RP:Release the Kraken

From HollowWiki

Part of the Tales from the Row Arc

Synopsis: Finn and his crew prepare to hoist anchor and return to Rynvale, when the news that one of their own is lost is heard. The ship suffers an attack by a Kraken on departing the isle, and some discussion of the intentions of Rynvale’s spectre takes place.

Characters: Finn, Terra, Hanan, Domastine, Kirikae, Alaine, Grot

Location: Cenril; Mangove Beach at Anchor.

Finn’s descent from the decks above was somewhat akin to the ambling stride that often marked his arrival in the Barrel’s taproom from the parlor above stairs. The runner was in an odd mood. Some part of him was celebrating. Grot’s departure from the ship had been accompanied with word that the stolen contraband would be transported to the shore line within the hour. But while this pleased him..that he would return to Rynvale with that which he had come to retrieve..he could not feel entirely comfortable with the commitment made to the Bandit. Medicine for the Cenrili brats. At least it was the product..and not the gold he had asked for-then he would have been almost certain of a scam afoot. As it was, he didn’t trust the Razor as far as he could throw him..and without an official truce between them..there was noting to say that this whole dam tale wouldn’t unfurl with a second chapter. Maybe the Hellcat would be able to keep him on a short leash. She seemed to have his number. The male arrived in the galley, gold flecked gaze sweeping the confines of the most spacious and sociable quarters of the ship. He could use a drink. Where had the Fox ferreted up rum the night of the storm? A thought skittered toward the sparrow..was she still in bed recovering? He’d not seen her up on deck when he came out the meeting in the captain’s quarters.

Terra had an eventful past few days. After being placed so far from her element that it's almost a comedy she decided it best to stay in bed. But that got boring, quickly. Pretty soon she'd leave the small confines of the cabin, pausing in the hall for a stretch when the planks above were marked by the steady thump of boots across them. If this voyage had taught her anything it was to remain prepared - she'd be damned if that ghost would catch her otherwise. Red is the first thing she sees, that bright color of his hair unable to be diminished even by the faltering and sparse lighting. Leaving her shoes in the muddy pile of clothes and ruined supplies, she trailed after and watched from the doorway as he made himself familiar with the galley and what it held. "I'm not in the cabinets, you know."

Finn’s hands stilled briefly in their process of rifling through cabinets as her voice floated over his shoulder, teasing a lazy grin from his lips. “Unless you’re golden and wet darlin’” he drawled in a tone laced with mischief, “Reckon you’re not what I’m lookin’ for..” Ahh their game would never cease, despite having played so often to a draw. Fingers snagged the nearest unopened bottle, and it was lifted her way, along with a auburn brow in silent query as he moved toward the nearest table and chair. Bottle tipped to his own glass while he awaited her response, a single swallow taken as the possessive look in his eyed belied his own tease as they came to rest upon her in the doorway. “Still..bout time we talked about what happened out there aye? Wasn’t lyin last night..you looked like you’d been dragged hair first along the trails.” Curiosity caused the highlights in his eyes to shift as he watched her.

Terra kept one arm close to her side as though nursing a broken bone which wasn't the case, it sure felt like it. Her own fingers trail up the length of it, stopping at shoulder just to skim back down again while she watched him with her own curious stare. The twitch at the corner of her mouth suggested that the comment was heard and while amused, sometimes the best response was none at all. Offer of a drink and conversation caused hesitation, a backwards glance as though weighing the options and contemplating a cabin return before she'd eventually proceed towards him. One of the glasses is snagged and pressed towards him, while she settled into the seat closest to him. Bruised and scraped legs stretch under the table and she looked almost at ease if not for the tension around her eyes and lips. "We took a quick dip in some quicksand. It's not like the hot springs you know... far messier." A wry look was offered towards him, that strange sense of humor never one to abandon her. "Got out, heard voices... so we went towards the mountains." Lost in the recollection she'd trail off, eyebrows knitted together. "And then there was this sensation, like I was being watched. It was the Ghost. He's on the island, this Ghost, and he seems to know you. And our Captain, who I didn't stray from - not me, knows him, I think. We're all being haunted by a ... ghost." she'd finished lamely, emptying the glass and gesturing for another. "Got a little lost, got a little stuck, did some time swinging on a vine... It's really your run of the mill island adventure. How'd you fare?" This was all mumbled in a casual matter as though it really had been expected.

Finn’s brow furrowed more and more deeply with every passing phrase. Quicksand. Eyes flickered to meet hers. And a ghost? Why was it familiar..a teasing memory. Ah, Kae’s comment after the Chaser was hit. ‘Our men think we’ve been hit by a ghost.’ “The hell does the bugger want?..” he murmured absentmindedly to himself. “He’s hittin’ our ships..and finds a way to tail us all the way to god dam Selen?” Another abrupt swallow was taken, eyes suddenly growing chill. “ He talked to you then..did he touch you? Hurt you?” Whisky gaze pinned her with a stare that dared her to lie to him. If the spook had hurt her..he’d hunt him to the ground and tear him limb from limb.

Hanan had been up in her cabin, under the quarterdeck,discussing the particulars with Harry. "We're travellin' loaded... through Cenrilli waters. We've got to make sure we look poor. Make sure you put the tattered flag up, maybe we should switch to the dingier sails, with the patched holes..." Brown eyes peered out the door, at her men--most of whom were milling about, mugs in hand. She'd cracked open the ale barrel, didn't she? Maybe that hadn't been the best idea. Still.. she liked seeing them happy. "No... scratch it. Let 'em relax. We're putting back out soon." She looked up at the portly first mate, towering over her like that--and cracked a grin. "Go join 'em. Keep them from fallin' overboard." Once he left she let her shoulders droop somewhat, shut that door... found a growl in her throat. Damn Grot Kingsley... somehow she'd assumed he'd be coming back aboard for the ride back to Rynvale. Assumed this would feel more like a victory and less like they'd been had. The rutter had kissed her, hadn't he? Didn't exactly lead to a moment of passion--gods, she missed Yas--but that hairy bastard was probably inland, drunk, telling his boys about it. He was her prisoner, damn it--HER conquest, not the other way around. That's how these things worked... And all this so they could get some damn swords back. Damn Red. He owed her. Where's that lucky jacket? She shrugged into it--for no good reason, really--opened the hatch, climbed the ladder downward, into the officer's quarters hall, which she limped down to that little common area by the galley. Terra got a grin, Red a look... "We're ready to go soon as you are." A pause. "Didn't expect you to negotiate such... terms."

Terra is not about to confess that the pretend-phantom had managed to get the drop on her. For a vampire, it's just a sad state of affairs but he's able to cloak more than his movements making him nearly impossible to track. This thought process is more frustrating, quickly abandoned for another drink even if she took it upon herself to pour the glass. "We've met before..." she'd admit to in a rather offhand matter as though this should ease the concern for her current conversation partners. "Think it's you he's after. Seemed rather curious about you." She settled back into the chair, back of her head propped against the high point of the chair as her eyes fluttered close and she'd cradle that arm a little closer to avoid jarring strained muscles. Hanan's arrival caused one eye to open and in catching the sight of the jacket she'd grin back, giving the captain a half-hearted salute after a pause.

Finn leveled a look on the vampire that let her know..all too clearly, that he knew there was more to the story. But she was here..and in one piece more or less, so whatever it was, couldn’t be that bad. He assumed. Glass was already resting at his lip when her addendum caused brow to quirk in surprise. “Me?..the hell would the spook want with me? Not a captain..seemed boats was his thing,” he drawled huskily, even as head rolled to allow him eye contact with their captain as she made entrance to the galley. A second brow joined the first at her look. “ Didn’t figure you of all people would get on me about the deal Cat..” his tone was dry. “Your idea after all..” but that was not why he’d agreed to the trade. Not by half. “He took us to Terra..” It was all that needed to be said..an act that covered a multitude of sins. Once. “But I’ll feckin’ put a hole in his heart if I catch him workin’ the row..an’ I made that plenty clear.” This was no armistice in their undeclared war. “Now I gotta figure the hell to track down his god dam flower medicine.”

Hanan ::"No. My idea was to get you to pay me with silly flowers for Cenril, as thanks for choosin' not to kill me. And that you not kill the Razor. I said nothing about his damn operation. I figured you'd put an end to the thing and bring him back to Rynvale in chains." But saving Terra was a good incentive, wasn't it? She narrowed her eyes. "Good luck keepin' that bastard out of where he doesn't belong." She stepped into the galley, grabbed a glass, steppped back out, grabbed Terra's bottle--HER bottle, actually--and poured herself a drink. "What's this you're mutterin' about a ghost, Terra?" Pulled out a chair with her foot next to the two at the table, plopped down in it... messed a bit with the high stiff collar to that naval officer's jacket. It looked kind of funny over the wrinkled shirt. Nevermind. "Goin' after ships, you say, Red?"

Terra didn't need to see the look to know what it implied. Instead of spurring a confession it created a smile that's only diminished by the conversation as it continued. A muscle jumped in her jaw and she looked between Finn and Hanan, aware now of the decision that had been made and why Grot's presence had been necessary last night. "I owe ..Kae..was it? Inbetween grunts and scowls he actually came back." The vampire sighed hard and heavy as though this information was almost displeasing. Or maybe it was that she felt like she owed the captain something in return for his arrival on the scene. She's still not sure how she would have made it over the gorge had he not appeared. "Maybe some arrows..." the ideas are pitched to herself as they discussed the deal that had been worked out the evening prior. Whatever she seemed to have settled on she'd turn to Hanan again. "I like your jacket. Have I told you that yet?" Evidently she's unwilling to bring up the subject of the Ghost again. People were going to start her sanity - first she's feeling soft for Grunty McGee and now babbling about phantoms. She needed another drink.

Finn, for some reason, was finding it incredibly difficult to follow Hanan’s logic tonight. Pay her with silly flowers? The hell? But it was a moot point and what was done was done. “Aye..well short of killin’ him darlin’..there was no way we were gonna end his operation. The hell was I gonna do with him in chains? Walk up to the law and ask em to lock up the bastard that stole the things I stole?” He snorted softly at the thought, draining his glass. “Aye, Arien would’ve tossed me in right behind him. Nah. Works out for the best this way. I got my stash, he gets his flowers. And he gets the message.” The look on Finn’s face was grimly amused. “Reckon this dog is best left sleepin’..” He glanced the captain’s way as she dropped into the seat next to him. “Aye..we reckon he’s the one who messed with your ship in harbor. Same MO on the Chaser when Kae had a run in with him..but Terra here seems to think he’s interested in me..which opens a whole other can of worms I’m figurin.’ Smells of the law.. Don’t reckon our sort skulk around nearly so much. More like Kingsley..in your face and a bitch about it.” The male turned pensive, fingers falling to idle caress of Terra’s knee as he spoke. The next would be directed to her. “What -exactly- did he say darlin’? What’d he want to know?”

Hanan blinked at Terra. Fine, don't answer her question. Be rude like that. "Yeah, you have. Had it a long time. Yas--" She blinked, went mum a moment. Shyte, that's right. Yas wouldn't be there when she got back. Well, she'd be there, but not for... her. The grin had disappeared---she hastily put it back realizing, and leaned in her chair. Rum! Rum was good. She took a small sip, set the glass down. "Lots of people like this jacket. I think some assume I'll end up whiskin' them off..." She snickered. "Yeah. They like it. Don't know why -you- like it, though. You're the one who wants me in a damn skirt. Don't know why you insist on dressin' up when you get lost in jungles..." Red, though... "I figured you'd want revenge, that's all. Rough 'im up. Show 'im who won." That glass is in her hand again. "So whoever messed with my ship, followed us here... how?" She narrowed her eyes. No, couldn't be on her ship. She'd know... wouldn't she? The damn thing was small, not many corners for a man to hide in. She glanced up at the ceiling--yeah, mentioning the possibility of a stowaway now would just set her men in a panic. She'd have to sweep, later. Herself. "Watch your backs... we might be flushin' out a stowaway tonight."

Terra never could follow Hanan's logic unless they were both taking shots of absinthe. Then it all made more sense. Her eyes are trained on the female captain's face during the conversation concerning Grot and call it a woman's intuition but she suspected that the jacket's reappearence had something to do with that very same man who they currently dissected verbally. Touch on her knee has her straightening in the seat as though it was a summons to join in on the discussion to which she could only sigh at. "He's not..." she paused and her lips pressed together. How much could be said? She didn't know a thing about their ghost but he had been ... honest during their encounter - both. "He's not law. Well, not like Arien's version. A different sort, if any. His own." Chilly fingers wiggled their way through tousled hair, further ruffling caused as a result of nervous actions. "Just wanted to know why -Finn- was here, what business he had on this island." There was an emphasis on his name for a reason - the Ghost had said it, known it. "I think he knew most of the details, if not all." One shoulder shrugged, dismissing it before it could lead to further speculation about the ghost and the possible blame he shouldered. "Listen, he can't be horrible. He can't be. When he had the chance to take me out... he didn't." That said something - a lot to her, especially.

Finn nodded his understanding of Hanan’s thought processes. “Don’t reckon there’s much to be proven in beatin’ up on a trapped man. Kingsley’s day will come..an’ It’ll be my pleasure to serve him up somewhere I can actually stand up straight to swing a fist..” he drawled in some amusement. Another squeeze was offered Terra’s knee, half an ear to her response as he eyed the now empty bottle. He was still dry..and pretty sure there was another..if in one of the cabinets a bit farther away from their small group. “Refill?..” he’d ask idly, pushing himself to his feet. Response would be tossed Terra’s way over his shoulder. “ He called me by name?..” A rhetorical question and furrowed brow. Someone capable of information gathering then. And what the hell was his interest in what Finn was doing? To what end? To stop it..to cut in on his business? It was frustrating not having the pieces of the puzzle all laid out to stare at till they made sense. “Din’t say he was horrible Terra..just want to know what his game is. Some kinda god dam disguised do-gooder?...And the hell is the food Hanan? Man could burn a hole in his stomach waitin’ to eat on this dam ship..” Speaking of which. Where the hell was the crew? He was ready to haul anchor..and if he remembered, Hanan had said she only awaited his word. When he’d found with his drink, he’d head above to make a head count before giving the clearance for Hanan to lift anchor.

Hanan ::"It's in the ruttin' galley! Where else would it be?" Her cook--well, Harry... he cooked--was giving them three squares a day. She wasn't going to ask him to wait on Red when he got hungry early. Rutter could boil his own water. Back to Terra, back to someone slightly more reasonable. She finished off her drink, wiped the side of her mouth with a thumb, and grinned. "Alright. So you got lost in the damn jungle, ran into some kinda..." What had red said? Do-gooder? Hah! "Masked paladin, got asked questions..." She snickered. "Damn. All I did was nearly get pissed on in a swamp."

Finn would not be gone for a very long time. It would seem as if most, if not all of those who had taken this journey with him were more than ready to return. A quick patrol of the deck, a few murmured questions and it would become evident that everyone was back of his crew..everyone save Fletcher, and a few of Hanan’s crew hands who had, apparently not yet returned from their own search expedition. It was not unusual for the men to get distracted in persuit of the islands treasures…especially not Fletcher’s sort, but the runner was restless to be off. If they did not return soon he’d send someone after them. He wondered why the Fox had not gone with her mate..something was not quite right there, but he’d not had the opportunity to corner her this trip with the abundance of activity going on. The runner would trot back down into the galley, that pensive expression still in place, and a quick nod was offered to the captain. “Looks like we’ll be ready soon enough. Few stragglers..yours and mine both.”

Hanan ::"They'll straggle back eventually." The captain didn't seem too worried. She was busy with her bottle--which she was using to refill her glass--and the chart she'd spread upon the table before her. Marking the coasts of Cenril and Rynvale and all points between, it was covered in pencil marks; many clustering around the Cenril and Rynvale ports, with a couple thick lines drawn between. Once of them led to and from Selen, incidentally. "Should have a good course charted." Sip. "What're you planning when we put back in? I'm going to put my damn feet up."

Alaine ventured out from her quarters to retrieve, you guess it, a bottle of liquor. The artificer looked… tired; exhausted even. Choppy ebon locks were in disarray, even more-so than usual, skin was smeared with faint brushings of dirt and sap from the previous day's jungle-sprinting, and sterling hues sported delicate rings of lavender 'neath their sockets. Fletcher and the group of men he had set off with days ago had still not returned, the previous night spent sitting in bed waiting, hoping, and wondering. She kept silent as she trudged into the galley, reached into the open cabinet in passing, snatched a bottle's neck, and found rest in an unoccupied seat in the corner of the room all in one fluid series of motion. Lithe fingers swiftly pulled the cork from its security, swirling the rum about before pouring it into the glass she also managed to grab along her trail. Smooth lips eagerly parted to allow the smooth burn of the alcohol to pour down her throat, scruffling her hair and adjusting her goggles once a good portion of the glass's contents had been downed. She hadn't even taken in her surroundings, not bothering to scan for the familiar faces she knew and loved.

Domastine managed well on his own keeping away from any wandering crewhands throughout the night, albeit without the previous comfort of the artificer's room. He had tucked himself away in the same place during the night when Alaine and Lita had been conversing, though with a much lighter sleep than he would have wanted. Ever a moment from a full alertness, the shrouded figured crouched in the dark corner watched diligently the exchanges of the morning shift crews. Most of his body ached with a dull soreness. However, once the dawn came, the spectre slowly stood, mindful to keep his back taut against the corner in the galley to minimize the chance of his shimmer being caught. The ship was not yet in Rynvale, afterall. A bemused expression crossed his hidden face at the sight of the drinking elf. However, he did not even have the opportunity to berate her about alcohol so early in the day.

Finn nodded idly Hanan’s way. He was, likewise, not particularly worried. He would have himself been trapped on the island last night, had not the unexpected launch of a row boat from the ship provided him vehicle. Still, they were now some hours into the morning, and Grot had been shuttled back to shore. The men should have reported. A broad shoulder shrugged then. “When I’m ready we’ll move out..with or without em. Not the only ship at anchor..sure others will pass through.” If his men couldn’t follow orders or use common sense, they deserved the hassle of finding a way back to the mainland..without pay. The Fox’s arrival and sullen demeanor was noted with a thoughtful glance spared, and nothing further. Red would not pander to her absurd notions that he harbored any filial emotions toward her, but he’d keep an eye on her, despite his own return to drink. To Hanan’s idle question, a quirk of the lip and dry response. “No rest for the wicked cap’n..Reckon I’m way past due on deliverin’ a rat her commission..” this was all that was said of the matter..for now. One job at a time. Let them get home first.

Alaine hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, so the present hour seemed to be sunset in her restless mind. She was grumpy and worn, growling softly to the captain's regard as she settled in her seat. With his attention stuck in the liquor cabinet, he would promptly feel a thump against the side of his head, bottle's cork quickly falling after it had stricken his temporal. The artificer couldn't contain dry grin as she took another hearty gulp of ale and leaned back in her chair, not once paying the captain a glance.

Hanan ::"Time flies when you're half drunk all the time," is what Kirikae got from her--her, with her own bottle and a glass she emptied just after. "Hello, Fox. Try not to drink everythin' I've got stocked alright?" Red got a grin, she raising her glass to him. "You're not wicked." Was that a compliment? "Just naughty as all hell. I'm hopin' you don't need a ship for your little library raid. I mean it when I say: I'm on a break. The men'll come back--well, mine, anyway. The ones that just went to the beach. Don't know about yours. When the hell are you goin' to be ready?" Bottle was lifted, contents poured. Liquor seemed to punctuate a good half their conversations. "Load's loaded."

Kirikae said, "Wot?" He turned a look of feigned amusement across the room and landed it briefly on the Runner before gaze snapped back to the bottles underhand. "An' 'ere Ah thought ther' damned sun 'ad decided ter travel backwards ta-day." Of course he knew it wasn't bloody early. "Bas-" The rest of the word was bitten back as cork collided with the side of his skull. Seething with his wince, the captain glanced dangerously at the elf. He was going to do violence to a woman. Grabbing a bottle himself, Kae stooped down to recover the cork, dropping unceremoniously it into her lap as he walked by.

Domastine felt like a mouse caught in a den of serpents. The spectre was a scentless and invisible rodent, but the danger was nevertheless clear and present. All present seemed to have taken to drink, making his own presence slightly easier; if enough was consumed to affect their senses further, that is. Cautiously peeling himself away from the corner he occupied, his hidden eyes kept on the group while shimmying ever so lightly along the wall to make his way towards the hallway that lead towards the private quarters or the staircase that led up to the fresh sea air. His decision would have to wait as his body stilled. One of the snakes was slithering, even if not directly close to him.

Alaine slowly moved to grasp the cork in slender fingers, rubbing over the smooth surface as she picked up Hanan's remark. This was only her second bottle since boarding the ship; compared to some of Hanan's crewmen, the elf was a small mouse feeding on crumbs. Just as the elf parted smooth lips to retort, a shimmer across the room caught her eye, quirking a brow as it froze in its tracks. Was it…? The fox hummed contemplatively, waiting until Kae had found a seat before launching the cork across the room, looking away with the same grin as it plopped into his lap.

The sound of an unusual bustle of activity above deck, a few raised voices and just some unerring instinct for recognizing trouble, had Finn lift his head toward the thump of encroaching boots, coming with laborious thumps down the stairwell. A cluster of men, three, to be precise, all but erupted into the room. All bore the tell tale paleness and strained looks of men who had looked death in the face..though there would be no telling what..or what spurred their urgency, until the taller of the two who were already headed Hanan’s way blurted out loud enough for all to hear. “Cap’n we gotta get outta here. Kraken in the water..an’ its takin boats..” Sal, the third, it seemed, had drawn the short straw. He was moving towards Finn’s position at the table with almost painstaking slowness. And when he got there, he’d lean over and speak something quietly to the runner that would cause a certain measure of stillness to come upon the man. A hand reached into the interior of his coat and a slip of material removed and passed to the smuggler. The torn fragments of a familiar waistcoat. “Sorry mate..” came the recognizable murmur, before he pulled away.

Domastine allowed not even a muscle to twitch, ironically raising a brow in similar expression to the sterling eyes that seemed to stare into his olive ones. She could not have noticed him, could she? Now he was truly stuck. She would surely be able to see the slightest movement. His eyes darted off to the side as the stairwell erupted with the descent of boots. The situation grew worse, an exit now cut off. His gaze turned back to the new men as they informed Finn of some crew members' fates.

Finn said to Hanan, "Get us out of here Cat..now. I've got nothin' to wait for." Cold, hard. The runner knew the storm about to be unleased on the Fox's emotions..but he also knew the hell they would all face, if the Kraken tracked their ship to open water. "

Hanan said nothing--she was already shouldering her way past the two men who were not Sal and pounding her way up the steps. God damn Red and his lollygagging! "LIFT THAT RUTTIN' ANCHOR." Well, that's one order she hadn't had to give--there was Harry by the hoist, supervising the men with the winch--but he'd just started, damn it. They could only move so fast. "Unfurl the sails! Get someone on the helm!" But that was already being done as well. Damn that Harry. Her heavy boots were pounding toward the bow, she standing there a long moment, sharp eyes scanning the water. Nothing... she saw nothing, except... there's one of her boats. Smashed in two. She saw no bodies. What the hell was going on? Why were there Krakens in water this shallow? Was it some kind of damn... baby kraken? "Crossbow--" She turned, pointed to three of her men. "Grab crossbows from my quarters, carry 'em up while you let those sails down..."

Hanan said to Finn, "RED!!" She was shouting again, down the hatch as she passed. "Stay down there. Tentacles get ruttin' grabby."

Alaine had just been relishing the satisfaction of the distant thud of cork bottle before men came rushing in with urgency. Hushed whispers were not such, grim news audible to all those in the room, including the fox. They had lost one? Eyes narrowed in faint remembrance; those were the men that had set off with Ralien… Just then, a shimmer of silver trim was caught in its transport to The Runner, brows furrowing in sudden comprehension. No… Fists instantly clenched, body trembling as head was lowered to collide with the table's surface. Tears streamed over as chest heaved in silent, breathless sobs, mouth opening to scream, but voice couldn't be found. No...

Kirikae had barely dropped into his own seat before a familiar cork came sailing into his lap. He stared at it from over the mouth of his bottle for a moment before sky-blue gaze flickered in the direction of the elf. Slowly did that crooked grin arise, all but hidden behind his first draw from the container. The cork, like the gold coin Terra had tossed at him days prior, was dropped nonchalantly into the pocket of his considerably cleaner duster. He'd no chance to drink further before the men came shouldering their way into the hatch to deliver both a message that made his brow furrow with a touch of concern and shreds of fabric he only vaguely recognized. The captain stood, stepping forward on his way to collect his own bow before he found himself caught in momentary pause. Alaine's reaction. He glanced toward Red, before eyes dropped back to the cloth. Ah.. It had been that elf's. What was his name? Flet-something. One lingering gaze was spared toward the sobbing artificer before Kae continued toward his room. He was going to collect his bow.

Domastine held serious debate to his thoughts. Cornered in close confines with the rogues, or risking getting tossed overboard if this kraken were to close in on the ship. An opportunity rose as Hanan shoved her way up to deck along with whatever crew followed after attaining crossbows. A dull thud of skull to table jerked his attention to the center of the galley, and the artificer. Eyes narrowed curiously and with concern as to what prompted the abrupt emotion. The tattered piece of embroided coat recalled a memory in his mind. It belonged male that accompanied Alaine as the spectre followed both through the harbor. The soft spasms of her body through her initial grieving gave him pause. Even if he remained below deck, there was nothing he could do as a comfort for the woman while there were still others present. Revealing himself so readily would simply endanger him in vain.

Finn was in the most peculiar of positions. A storm of emotions was being unleashed by the artificer below deck..a storm of potentially fatal proportions pending above. Dammit but he hated to be anywhere but on the front lines..God dam Hanan for giving him orders to stay below. What was he, a woman? He didn’t see the irony of the thought. The hell was he to do? Already he was pushing away from his place, eyes flickering toward Kae’s retreating back..he knew exactly where the dam tree hopper was going. Whirling on his heels he moved across the galley to where the elf was sitting. “Shut it Fox..you’ll have time to cry if you live not to join him in Valhalla.” It was a bucket of cold water, and figurative slap across the face. “Fletcher is dead..and if you don’t fetch me some of your god dam toys we could be dead too. Now..Move Arctic..” It was what he knew to be her given name..the only one she had ever given him. That he used it was speaking in and of itself. As if to punctuate his claim, a low groaning THUMP echoed along the hull, as a body..baby or otherwise rammed into wood, and above deck, the first slithering sign of a tentacle feeling its way up the side of the ship.

Hanan saw that tentacle... the damned thing. The sails were unfurled, the wind already filling them to bursting as her helmsman spun the wheel like mad and sent them turning, turning toward the open ocean, Harry barking like mad... but if that tentacle was there, it was already latched on. Damn the thing! "Weapons! Cutlasses, machetes... We'll hack it apart!" She was sprinting toward the first tentacle, past her own rushing men and Red's idiots--lubbers--bending only briefly to grab a boarding axe--good, HER boarding axe, she'd been wondering where it disappeared to--off a coil of rope. Quick as the most practiced lumberjack that thing was over her head, then snapping downward, sinking through squidly flesh like butter. Would that deter the thing?

Alaine remained fixed in her seat, still unable to move, to comprehend any shred of reality. He was gone… Slender frame shook continuously, blocking out the sounds of the scurrying feet and clanking of weapons. Minutes passed with no response, no movement on her part until a voice finally broke through her guarded psyche; a name, particularly. "Arctic…" It rang through her core, images of past life under that title running through, commanding her men with Ralien at her side. A wire snapped then, eyes shooting open with hard gaze not even offering recognition to The Runner at her side before lithe form slowly rose from its seated-slump and she set off toward her quarters. Slender digits rummaged, picking through the assortment she had brought aboard before palming a copper sphere, equivalent to her fingers' stretch in size. Heavy steps carried her through the galley and up the hatched door, walking onto the deck without a word or glance to any of those currently battling with the creature below. Body turned once it reached the railing, facing the direction she had come as arm outstretched over the water. The kraken was just beneath them. Lurid silver hues looked to the ocean, keeping still even with tentacles maliciously climbing up the ship's side, jaw tightening before thumb simply flipped the switch on the side of the sphere and the artificer dropped it into the water. There was a pause, the elf already setting in motion to return to the galley and nearly reaching the hatch before a gentle burst could be heard from beneath the water. Without warning, the ocean instantly was consumed by a fiery shock that caused the kraken to shriek, its tentacles limply sliding from the dock as it retreated to the depths below, possibly to its uncertain death. Ship creaked and moaned from the wave of energy released, rocking slowly from side to side just as the fox was slipping back into the galley. If one cared to truly listen, they would hear the slamming of a door from deep with the ship's confines; seemed she wanted solitude.

Domastine clenched a gloved with an inaudible creak of the white leather as he could only watch the exchange between the Runner and the Fox. He was unaware of the irony due to a similar emotion that washed over the red head when learning about Terra's previous encounter with the spectre in the mountains. It took considerable restraint not to reveal himself and suddenly crack Finn's head upon the table in a more gruesome repetition of Alaine's previous grieving gesture. So focused was he on the woman that the sudden impact to the hull by Kraken tentactle had no trouble in shoving him off the wall his back had been flush against. A shimmering mass stumbled forward towards the table. In the breath of his awkward recovery, she was gone from the table and already well on her way up the staircase. The figure kept as still as possible, given that Finn still remained and stayed as such despite the shriek of a gargantuan creature in clear pain. Olive eyes followed the Fox as she returned with a strange sense of purpose to her movements before eyes winced faintly upon hearing the slam of a distant wooden door.

The slashes into slithering, rubbery flesh had affected tentacles, provoking the temporary releasing of initial hold on the frame of the ship. They disappeared beneath the waves with writhing, ocean staining splashes. Just enough of a retreat to spare, perhaps the worst of the blast unleashed by the Fox’s explosives. And even if not..the size of those tentacles would have betrayed a potentially horrifying truth. Mommy would not be happy with the outcome of events. For a moment..then two, enough leeway was offered to sail..movement of ship through water occurring until from crow’s nest a shout..and eyes turned to oceans surface might see that incoming streak of shadow driving toward the ships hull at ramming speed. Impact, should it be made without evasive maneuvers, might be enough to breech some level of the hull. The grown ups had arrived. Pissed.

Kirikae 's strides took him quickly out of the galley. The moment his sole touched the hallway, Kae's pace quickened to a near sprint, and he was shouldering past a few confused sailors who yet knew what was attacking the boat. "Move!" An order? It held no sustenance on another captain's boat, but he had barked the word with such ferocity that at least a small path through the men cleared for him. Bow was reclaimed, and in all but a moment the elf was readying an arrow as he trotted back to the hatch. Agile frame was already darting between a mass of sailors. Worn boots skidded to a halt across the boards of the deck, keen elven eyesight narrowed upon the tentacle, and the ship's captain as her boarding ax cleaved into the thing. Predatory smile resurfaced before the blonde captain whipped about, trotting within a few paces of the ship's railing where he could see more tentacles slithering along the surface of the hull. No sooner had he lifted his bow to release a shaft, did Alaine's dropped sphere and the subsequent shock that rocked the vessel underfoot send his aim off. Arrow went whistling uselessly into the water, and with a low grunt the captain steadied himself. "Th' bloody 'ell was tha'?" Came a question that was almost as perplexed as it was disappointed once the tentacles began slipping back beneath the surface of the water. The question was lost to a not-so-muffled smattering of curses for the call from the crow's nest.

The instant that it had become evident that the Fox was going to follow his directions, Red felt the freedom of release flow trough him, there would be no need for him to struggle with where he belonged in the unfolding scenario. Kae’s barked ‘move!” muffled through the hallway walls, may as well have been directed to him, for with a single look thrown over his shoulder toward the retreating elf, Finn was himself darting up the stairwell to the upper deck. Thus, would the runner not even be present for the spectre’s spill, and the ghost might find himself oddly free to do what instinct might demand, when the ghostly still form of the Fox moved back along that hallway to her room. Finn arrived on deck, just in time for that shout fro the crow’s nest and did what his own instinct demanded. He braced for an impact. The Hellcat was a dam good sailor, but could even she maneuver this old hag of a ship out of the way off a full grown sea monster on a ram run? And then the ship was turning..hard, so hard that it almost felt that her hull would kiss the water..that it could capsize any moment, and the runner was stifling curses at the creature and captain both. “Just somebody kill the the god dam thing!” he bellowed. An answer, the blast of cannon and a flail of flesh cut loose..stains in the water. And still she came, but slower, injured, the more restrined ‘bump’ of blunted impact, and then a pair of massive reaching tentacles flung into the air..out and over the aft portion of the ship..the captain’s precious cabin, falling with power toward the deck. Impact would splinter wood and smother flesh, dragging what remained overboard and down into the waves if unimpeded.

Kirikae 's expression hardened, and with bow in hand the captain was darting toward the mainmast- more specifically, the ratlines. With knowing easy, he scaled the various ropes until he reached steadier- if shared- footing at the crow's nest. He'd anchor himself as firmly as he could in place, bow drawn with two arrows knocked at the ready. Ears pricked at the captain's order, gaze dropping briefly to Hanan's head. Once more did he feel the corner of his mouth tilt upward as he raised the bow. Closing one eye, the Halfling aligned his side with the shade in the water. Somewhere amidst the blast of cannonfire, the arrows were released. Steel tipped shafts whistled through the air, aimed to bury themselves in the tentacle as if flung over the deck. Already another arrow was being knocked to be fired off; a process that was was going to be repeated until either he could shoot no more, or the kraken was stopped. The latter would be preferred, really.

Domastine did not know what in all the hells he should be grateful and cursing for. Finn left, but there came another hard heaving as the ship turned as fiercely as it could without snapping itself in half in the water. Though keeping in an unseen shroud, his legs unsteadily carried him along the hallway. Every heavy blow from more massive tentacles against the deck cause the usually graceful spectre to stumble, a gloved hand kept along the hallway for bracing as he lurched his way to where the Fox had secreted herself to. His hand struck harder than he would have liked upon the door when the trembling of the ship caused him to near on slam himself against it. Knowing everyone on board to be busy combating the creature above deck, he had no qualms about audibly calling out to her inside the room. "Elf?" came his voice. Even with the lifeless tone to his words, there came a clear amount of concern to the name for her.

Alaine heard the knocking and the calling of her name, even amongst the muddled roar of sharp barks and canon firing from the deck above. The mask would not be given a reply, now any motion for that matter. Slender form remained still seated upon the bed, knees curled to her chest with arms embracing her shins in support. Not even a glance was offered to the door not ready to will herself from the little emotional cocoon she had engineered.

Hanan narrowly dodged the tentacles by falling backward over one of the ubiquitous barrels. The boarding axe skittered out of her hand while she watched those two great fishy appendages drag down a few feet to either side of her, taking a good chunk of the rail, the back deckgun, planks, rope... and the limp form of her helmsman down with them. Damn it. Damn it! She scrambled for the axe, pushed to her feet, managed to hack off the tail end of the starboard tentacle, and stumble toward the wheel. She'd turn them. She would. Her men were stumbling around like crazy, the kracken had several crossbow bolts stuck in its tentacles by the time they finished dragging off, but her ship was still moviing forward, slowed, not stalled... and she could feel from the tension as she spun the thing hard to port and back out toward the sea, hopefully wrenching the ship out of that... thing's grasp, that she still had a rudder. "Where the hell is Fox?" she yelled, peering over her shoulder, legs spread wide against the dramatic dip in her ship. "We need another ruttin' bomb! We're gettin' raped out here!"

If it were possible for a sea monster to scream, this one would be. Blasted by cannon, hacked at by axes and pinpricked by steel tipped arrows the squidy flesh would retreat, sink below the waves one more time, and the dread tentacles would not return. As the ship pulled out into clear water, a cheer might be heard going up..though the old vessel was in a sadly battered state, she was afloat. Hauling himself finally, fully onto the deck, the runner would sweep a look around the mess, whisky gaze coming to rest on Hanan where she stood post bellow. A grin flickered. “Reckon the kraken don’t make particularly good rapists then aye?” A step out onto deck. “How bad is it?”

Domastine was not one so easily deterred by silence, given his actual profession. A hand was flatted against the door, a faint push to test whether or not the latch had been placed to secure her seclusion. It had not been. As the door softly whined upon its iron hinges, a visible white clad figure stepped through the threshold. Looking straight at the huddled figure on the bed, he took an uneasy step forward; the constant assault of the Kraken making even taking a single step something of great skill do without falling over. Reaching the edge of Alaine's bed, his leather glove rested upon her shoulder. Tentatively at first, before she would feel a slight pressure from a tender squeeze of his fingers on her.

Alaine kept frozen, even as the door's hinges whined in protest to its slow opening. Steps approached slowly in caution, a few stumbles udible against the floorboards before the weight of gloved-hand was felt on her shoulder. The only response the elf gave was a visible tightening of her jaw, perhaps to keep tears from spilling over the tender rims of dazed sterling hues.

Grot thought to himself, aloat in the god damn sea, in the god damn cold, tired and hungry. "Gee. Sure as feck don't get any better than this. What more could a god damn man ask for? Got a nice FECKING BARREL TO FLOAT ON. I'm WET AND FECKING COLD. SUCH A GOD DAMN NICE NIGHT FECKIN' INNIT?!?!??!?!" God damn it. Legs kicked in the water. Murky ass night. He'd been listening for the past twenty minutes or so to distant cannon fire. Echoing voices. Whatever the god damn feck had taken him out, was taking them out. So close too. Warm fires. Ale. A woman or four. Or five. The ferry driver-turned boats-captain didn't really know what to say. Matter of fact, he didn't say much. Mouth gaping, ghosts pale white when it started. Eh. A somewhat timid, as if he were afraid of what lurked out there - voice bellowed. A delfated voice. "He....Hello?" The fecking hell man. Gonna die out here. Get eaten by the god damn Krakhead or whatever the hell dat thing was. Eh. "Hellllloooooo?!" He could handle pirates. They are like dogs, feed them, tell them they look nice, and they'll be putty in your hands. Oh wait, that's tah bitches - erm. Didn't really hear much, maybe...they were gone too. "HELLO YOU FECKING FECKERS I'M OUT HERE ON TAH FECKING BARREL IF YER FECKING OUT THERE - IF YER FECKING OUT THAR I TELL YOU NOW IF YEH DON'T COME AN' GET MEH I AM GOING TO SHOVE MAH FOOT SO FAR UP YER ASS YOU'LL BE TASTIN' LEATHER FER A WEEK!" He was flailing his legs in the water, flapping arms, throwing a fecking tantrum more or less. Voice died down into a bellowing whimper, loud, but defeated - "H-Helllooo?"

Hanan ::"It's a ruttin' gentleman." She was leaning on the wheel, panting slightly, frankly surprised as hell the thing had stopped. Yeah, those were cheers. She was too busy. "Quarterdeck's now shyte. Rail's gone... deck's... torn apart a bit." She could peer through the floor and see the edge of her desk. Thank gods the tearing had been uneven, else she'd be dealing with rain on her bed. "But we've still got a rudder. I can get you all home, I--" Was that a voice, out there? A voice yelling. She turned--toward the back, a little starboard. Gods damn. Grot Kinglsey. "There's... a man overboard." Gods damn him. What the hell was he even doing there? "Man overboard!" The helmsman was dead, she'd seen it... no use sending a boat out. She couldn't even see a bobbing corpse. "Get a boat down! Follow the yelling!"

Domastine :With the utmost care lest any new sudden movement of the ship cause him to fall over, he lowered himself to sit beside the elven cuccoon. His hand relaxed and slowly traced along the back of Alaine's shoulder to reach the opposite one. With a single arm he held her. The white faceless mask simply looked ahead at the wall in front of him, hiding a growing expression of care for the Fox. Despite the cries of command and yells above, all the spectre could focus on was the irratic heartbeat of a sobbing elf.

Terra had, and this is somewhat impressive, slept through it all. The entire thing. From the sudden seize of the boat to the shouting to the mourning. Every single moment. It wasn't until she choked slightly on a sob that didn't belong to her that the empath would even realize anything was out of sorts. Foggy brained and so sad it's sickening, she'd look for the source of it. Alaine, in her grief, isn't hard to feel out. The stronger emotions were always easier to pick up on. Braced against the wall, she'd manage her way back out of her own cabin and moved to Alaine's own, rubbing at a teary face. She hated crying, dammit. Of course what she witnessed in that room in that moment is enough to make her freeze, eyes enlarged by the scene before she'd slam the door to. If anyone happened to come by with the desire to check up on the Fox she'd deny entrance with a low, "She wants to be alone... go away." What the hell else could she do?

Alaine bit bottom lip as tears boiled over, spilling out and streaking soft cheeks as form curled more 'pon the bed's cushioning surface. She shied from his touch, from any warmth or comfort that was offered, still aching from the uneven throbbing within her chest. Still, no words were uttered, eyes not straying from their focus on water-stained floorboards. Even as another voice was captured, the source being the blonde currently situated in the doorway, the fox remained lost in the grief.

Finn nodded Hanan’s way. “I’ll cover the reapirs when we get back to town he murmured. now that the immediate danger was past, he found himself in rememberance of the other bad news the kraken had brought with it. Fox. Who had retreated inside after the initial skirmish. Alone. Though it was to be hoped that one of the women had gone to her. Terra had been inside, Lita. Miya..the lot of them, surely she would not be alone. He needed time..to figure out what to think..what to do..how to be. He didn’t want to be the source of added pain..but this..this just want his scene..comforting. Death was part of their world..it was why it didn’t pay to love. His conscience poked at him. What if it had been terra lost to the creature’s grip? Suddenly restless, the male would dip a curt head hanan’s way..and lie. “Need to see to Fox..looks like you’ve got your hands full..” Yeah, he’d heard Kingsly, and wasn’t nearly in the mood to deal with his shyte at the moment. Restless. Running ..from an unspoken truth. He needed to be alone. And with a whirl on booted heel the male would disappear below through hatched entrance. He’d see Terra along the hallway, leaning against that door and the elf would be spared a long..searching look, before without a word, the runner would disappear into the depths of his their own cabin. He’d reach for the lock..hesitate..and leave it open. Fitting perhaps. And he would not emerge again till the worst of the emotional storm was over..on all fronts.

Kirikae began to scale steadily down the mainmast, narrowed study sweeping across what was left of the deck. A grumble of a curse slipped past his lips as bow was swung over shoulder. Someone overboard, the ship torn. Frustration marred his face with his usual scowl, a thumb slipping beneath the fabric of his bandanna. Eventually, with a low grunt, Kae rolled his shoulders, and headed for the hatch. There was some purpose with which he walked down the stairwell. Hands ducked into the pockets of his duster as he continued down the hall, gaze narrowing upon Terra and the door she guarded. "Oi," he frowned, stare trained on the empath's face. Had she been crying too? Looked like it. "Dove." He dipped his head in the direction of the door. "She's in there?" Another question lurked behind the first, though it would remain unasked. He'd always thought women had a tendency to flock in groups when one was.. distressed. Perhaps the rest of the lot where inside? He sure as hell didn't know.

Hanan grumbled. "Gee, thanks." Great. Now they were all just heading down the steps, as if a GIGANTIC KRAKEN had not just attacked her damn ship. They were probably going to start drinking again. That's all they ever seemed to do, she thought hypocritically. She nudged a broken board with one foot, peered out over her deck--not so ruinous, all things considered. She still had the mast. It hadn't gone for the sails or the rudder. As if the great stupid squid didn't even know what made a ship work. Only the helmsman lost... that was a damn shame, that loss. But they'd get home. That was the important bit. "Harry!" Silence. Her brow knit. "Harry...?"

Alaine twitched to another voice heard in the hallway, a voice welcomed over all the others that had presented themselves thus far; why a grumbly captain would be a wanted comfort was perplexing, even to the elf. But, head slowly rose one-the-less, glancing up to the door and mumbling incomprehensibly to the mask. She not only wanted a private conversation, but she couldn't risk allowing the ivory-cloaked man to be seen by Kae, who most likely would give into his frequent desire of punching the cloaked-intruder right in his expressionless face.

Terra is not unaware of Finn's presence down below and she would allow him the searching look because she figured, in the end, he would venture over to be made aware of Alaine's state, maybe even her own. But that moment doesn't come. Instead he withdrew from it all and while torn, the elf remained slumped at the base of the door. Between the Fox's situation, the sudden need to conceal it all, and now this... she's a tad distressed. Doesn't help that Kirikae is suddenly at the place she had thought Red would be, asking a question that is only answered by a slow nod and another stubborn rub of red cheeks. "She doesn't wanna see anyone right now..." She'd cough to clear the hoarse statement, give it more merit but found she didn't want to argue with him or ask him to leave.

Domastine tilted his masked face to incoherent mumbling from a raised head hidden behind a curtain of black locks. Despite the voices heard outside, including that of the halfling captain, he asked in a cautious whisper of hollow sounding words, "What did you say?"

Kirikae 's room was just down the hall. He thought he should keep his bow with him, but somehow he had gone below deck with sure intent on tossing it on his bed. He'd felt almost obligated to help the crew, despite himself. "Ri'." He nodded shortly. Hands remained in his pockets, feet turning just slightly in the direction of his room. "Yer checkin' on 'er?"

Terra looked at Kae, through him, and just nodded. Why else was she sitting in front of a closed door of a ship so full of mourning? Was that Hanan she felt just then? Lips pressed together even tighter and despite it all, her absolute hatred for tears and just ..emotions in general, she found herself still swiping at her eyes. Eventually she'd secure a bit of cloth from Kae's pants leg, the closest she could reach and gave a tug. "Just.. stay." Stay until the door opened again or if it didn't, until she could walk away.

Alaine frantically looked to his blank face, furrowing her brows slightly in distress as she glanced to the door, then back to him frantically. "Leave." The word was drawn on the vowel in emphasis, in plea as she nervously bit her lip once more. She couldn't allow him to be seen in her room despite a subtle moment of sorrow at the realization of her request; it would lead to his departure, should he follow the beg.

Kirikae 's expression tightened against the gentle tugging of his clothes, gaze flickering between Terra and the door. He nodded slowly and stepped to the side to lean beside the elf against the wall. Jaw tensed against the useless question he nearly asked about the empath's wellbeing, his brow knitting with the frown. Bloody hell he'd been around too many women lately. All the same, he would stay.

Domastine :The mask naturally gave no expression as it appeared to juxtapose her own grief wrought face. Slowly a leather hand rose between them. It did not reach for her face, but rather the lower brim of his covering. The mask pried gently though did not leave his face. Instead a single melodic, if solemn word of his natural voice was softly uttered in caring defiance. "No~" Resetting the mask properly, the spectre stood and strode silently to the corner where she had first discovered him. Gradually, his body faded from view. He was gone. But he remained, all the same.

Hanan paced back down the deck. Her quarters could wait until later. "Follow the yelling to Kingsley," she told the two men being winched down in the boat--the kracken hadn't attacked that. "Fish him out, get him back aboard, put him in the spare officer's quarters... and don't let 'im bother me. I'm too busy." Or she wanted to keep him waiting. "HARRY!" Where the hell was that bastard? There--flat on his back, with some of the men clustered around him, and a trickle of blood coming out his nose. Rutting hell--she was running in that direction before she even got a curse out. "S'fine, Captain." That was Olivey. He still smelled like olives! How? "Knocked out is all. Still breathin'." She heaved a sigh of relief. "My quarters... until he wakes up. Move 'im." She needed a drink. Bad. Down the steps she went.

Alaine was shocked at hearing his true voice for the first time, even if it was just a single word uttered to her. Weakened gaze followed the mask as he retreated to the corner and faded from view, but still remaining present; so much for privacy. Slowly rising from the bed, the elf made way for the entrance, steps hushed before swinging the door open and nearly cringing to the eerie screams of iron hinges in protest. Red-brimmed eyes lazily darted between the bird and the captain, fine brows furrowed slightly before a warm hand reached out to Kae in silence.

Terra stretched her legs out in front of her and breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. She's entirely selfish in wanting Kirikae to stay. He was an easier source to be near and the tears are suddenly gone, washed away in his ability to remain solemn and silent. After a moment of the silence she'd whisper the question that had been on her mind since she woke up, "what happened?" Hanan might find them all gathered in the small hall and if so, she'd give a small wave in acknowledgement.

Alaine was shocked at hearing his true voice for the first time, even if it was just a single word uttered to her. Weakened gaze followed the mask as he retreated to the corner and faded from view, but still remaining present; so much for privacy. Slowly rising from the bed, the elf made way for the entrance, steps hushed before swinging the door open and nearly cringing to the eerie screams of iron hinges in protest. Red-brimmed eyes lazily darted between the bird and the captain, fine brows furrowed slightly before a warm hand reached out to Kae in silence.

Terra heard the response, the door, and merely watched the scene. She didn't even stick around long enough to ask the question that had lingered during Alaine's stay in the cramped quarters. Instead she'd push off from the floorboards and looked away. On the way to the galley she'd come across her door, Finn's door, theirs? and pause with a hand raised as though to knock. Eventually it would settle flat against it as though debating an entrance or not. Her hand curled slightly and there's a tiny, almost anxious knock given.

Kirikae had no problem with the silence that stretched between them. Hands finally left his pockets so that arms might fold over his chest, gaze focused on a knothole in the wall across from him. The moment Terra's whisper reached his ears, the Halfling tilted his head toward her, brows knitted together with incredulity. The hell did she not know what happened? He answered anyway, voice a low rumble. "Krakens. 'It ther boats, and 'er el-" Words were cut off by the sound of the door coming to an unwilling open. Gaze met the Fox's red-rimmed own for a moment before shifting to the offered hand. He'd meet her eyes again, arms unfolding at the invitation. Briefly did eyes shift to follow Ter's retreating back, and with another low grunt rumbling in his chest, the captain made his way silently into the other's room.

Finn heard the knock were he stood at the porthole, looking out into the dark night. The murmur of voices in the hallway had not escaped him, and he had been torn, for long minutes between going and staying. Fox was hurting. Seeing her pain was a reminder of every reason he had sworn not to lose his soul to another woman..and yet, here he was. Teetering, on the edge. It was the first time he’d let himself admit it even to himself. He lived for her. Moment by moment..yes, but he lived for her. What if it had been her? The knock came again, and he closed his eyes against it, but he was turning, moving, standing finally before the closed barrier and swinging it open. He stood there then, for long moments with whisky gaze shimmering on pools of green. He said nothing, only drew her into his embrace and asked her with his silence, to stay.

Terra didn't know what to expect when the door opened or even if it would at all. The empath made the mistake of sleeping through most of the evening and now she's about two steps behind everyone else. So she took two steps in and shut the door. She had a feeling that this battle here was something similiar to the one waged upstairs and she's not entirely certain that a true victor would emerge that next morning.

Alaine pulled him in slowly, closing the door after he had made it through the entrance, though not without a curious grumble. The familiar growl from within his chest made lips pull up a fraction, a very minuscule amount, though it was still something. Once the knob gently clicked into place, the artificer froze in her tracks, keeping steady hold of the captain's hand so that he would also cease his strides. Sterling gaze remained fixed 'pon his feet for a long while, standing in silence before him with palm still cupped to his own. After some time, eyes peeked up to his own, brows creasing slightly as she cautiously maneuvered into an embrace. Slender arms found their way about his neck, jaw clenching as body tremored and visage was rested in the curve of his neck, tears soon seeping their way into his skin.

Kirikae allowed himself to be led into the room, turning just slightly as the elf closed the door behind them. He watched her in silence, observant gaze catching the faint twitch of her lips. His eyes were still upon her when she was looking at the floor, and though he would not admit it, the captain was rather at a loss for what to do now that he was actually checking on her. Before he'd even the opportunity to continue pondering, he'd find the arms woven about his neck, tears dampening his collar and flesh. He stiffened momentarily before his body relaxed, eyes falling to the top of her head. No, the captain did not return the embrace. Instead, a hand slowly lifted, palm resting upon her dark curls as it cradled the back of her head. It was the most he would do, besides stand there for her until she stepped away from him. Right. He had been spending too much time with women lately. Damn it.

Alaine loosened her hold, or any attempt of an embrace. She was in a fragile state, and though she normally would have insisted upon a hug in return, she just couldn't find the will to pester him for troublesome requests. Nose twitched as she sniffled softly, turning visage away from him as arms slid from his shoulders in silent defeat. "Sorry…" she whispered, though the word barely escaped. It had been her second attempt at speaking since hearing the news; seemed the artificer struggled finding her voice.

Kirikae looked on quietly as she stepped back, a somber cast upon his features. It was not until her whispered apology that the Halfling had to restrain a grunt. "Fer wot?" There came the scowl again, etching into his features far quicker than it had taken to disappear. His hand had never quite dropped. Instead, it shifted, carefully cupping the artificer's chin. Gentler than most would expect from the captain, he'd turn her head back to face him, sky-blue gaze meeting her sapphire own. It was just for a moment. In the next instant his hand slowly lowered, drifting back to the pockets of his duster.

Alaine froze at the gentle gesture from the otherwise-brusque captain. It caught her off guard entirely, following his lead as sterling hues met with his own; the color reminded her of the sky, a gentle, calming blue resembling the sky in perfect seafaring weather. "For… showing you unwanted affection…?" The statement was more of a guess, an attempt at uncovering the source of his obvious discomfort towards the brief hug that they shared. Arms uncomfortably crossed over her waist, unsure what to do with herself as she waited for a reply, most likely an exit from the ever-avoiding captain.

Kirikae snorted. The crooked grin flashed briefly before the captain's expression straightened. He neither confirmed nor denied her guess, and it seemed very much that whatever had sparked his gentler touch had faded by now. Still, he held her gaze. After a long stretch of silence, he shook his head. Carefully did he move to take her wrist and turn her hand so that her palm was facing up. Opposite hand moved to his pocket, and after a moment returned to hover over hers. A token would be dropped into her palm, his hand falling atop hers to curl her fingers about the object. "Sleep. It's late." With that, the captain was making one of his exits, already out the door before she could get another word out. As for the elf, unfurling of her digits would reveal what the blonde had left for her: The cork.