Futuristic Portals to the Afterlife

[whitepaperplates]

Popping one of the finger foods into her mouth she was chewing it thoughtfully when the burly arm snaked around her hips and tugged her closer to his well built frame. Apollo jutted out her chin and turned her head away slightly as he parted the curtain of strands concealing her bright eyes. “Ya know I nevah lie.” And it was true. Apollo did not mince or sugarcoat words. She only spoke truths, her own at least. Whenever they were on her mind. Whatever they might be.

His grip loosened slightly and Apollo shifted in his hold, turning to face him once more. She balled her hands in the fabric of Woods’ shirt she leaned far back, unafraid of falling with his arm around her. She shot him a coy smile in invitation and pulled herself in close. The drink on his breath matched her own and she hid her silly grin against his chest. He was one of the few people she knew of that could hold their liquor as well as she could.

One would have had to be hard-pressed to call his words sweet nothings. That was a phrase far too innocent. The whispers would have made any other woman blush the fiercest scarlet, and heck, even a few men. All it openly roused from Apollo was a sultry smirk and soft laughter. She could not deny it to herself. The warm air of his seductive whispers managed to churn insides and curl her toes. Tilting her head this way and that, she welcomed the presence of his lips upon her cheeks. She hummed softly as his hands slipped beneath the slit of her skirt and roamed over her skin. The rough callouses on his fingers ghosted over her, tracing the nicks and mars of her flesh.

Apollo curiously peered around the Captain as another woman attempted to take his attention. She scuttled away, filled with indignation at his dismissal, but as Apollo snickered she paused and looked back. ‘Stupid,’ Apollo thought to herself as they made eye contact, ‘you can’t snatch a man from me.’ Apollo brought Woods’ head down lower and fervently met his lips. Lightly pulling back with her teeth. She grinned into the kiss as the woman’s face colored and she stormed off.

Apollo pursed her lips in thought at the proposal. How long had it been since the last time? Shame on her if she started to spoil him. He would already know her answer, but there was no harm in teasing him.

Pulling herself up onto her tiptoes by his shoulders, she spoke into the crook of his neck. “What if I say I already have a fella for the night.” She raised a brow.

Chordling

 

[Pretzel Heart]

Oh, it was…Brie. The only reason he knew her name was that she was the ship’s chef and self-proclaimed “surgeon,” so one of the more useful members of the crew. Then again, he had seen the sorts of questionable practices she qualified as “medicine” and was reluctant to call her such himself. Though he figured he should be more understanding. It wasn’t as if the pirates exactly had much to work with- stolen medical supplies, stolen knowledge, stolen practitioners…they only had as much as they could get their grubby little hands on. Wait, was he feeling sorry for the ruffians…? Pah! Not likely. He was just feeling sorry for himself, trapped on a ship of murderers with no hope of proper medical care should he get his throat slit.

Not that even the finest doctors in the military would be able to help him there…

At least she wasn’t wearing her eerie bird mask today. He would never understand the pirate’s infatuation with the grotesque.

But she had said one thing that was far from grotesque. She had actually thanked him. With a little bow! Those were words he felt like he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

So, with a little less reluctance than usual, he did his best to shoulder the boar and push through to where Brie had directed. All he had to do was make sure no one touched the hefty platter. That should be simple enough, right?

And then he heard her shout.

"Boar! Here! Eat!"

Iksel had never had a nightmare about being swallowed alive into a nest of worms, but he suspected it would feel something like the endless swarm of filthy, sweaty, grimy hands that suddenly descended upon him. Brie may have been short, but Iksel was not doing much better in the growth department (Blodwens were late bloomers, that was all!), and the vast majority of the crew towered over him. Meaning their thronging bodies might as well have been the Cyanean Rocks to his scrawny frame.

In a voice he was ashamed sounded as panicked as it did, he desperately cried out to the tiny chef.

“B-Brie! I can't--”

But she was already gone. By the time Iksel was able to catch sight of her through the writhing bodies of bestial merrymakers he could see her - completely unaware of his desparate plight - cheerfully embracing that boy. Toki. Darling of half the ship. Any warm feelings he might have developed at Brie's politeness shriveled up within.

Thankfully, at least, the questionable doctor had sense enough to summon a replacement. He couldn't remember the man's name, though his plainish face stood out somehow. The man was one of the ship's technical crew, though Iksel couldn't recall what it was he did exactly, either. Brie voiced aloud his innermost thoughts about the matter and provided the name "Winston." Iksel followed in kind.

"Ooh thank Heavens. Here, you take this." The roast was already a third gone by the time he began to try to shove it onto his soft-spoken senior with all the airs of one disposing of a used napkin. It certainly didn't help that both the tall-tale-telling pirate he had scoffed at earlier and Aleksander - second in command and one of the more suspicious characters, in Iksel's opinion (he had to be hiding something treacherous behind that kindly smiling face!) - had both called in new herds to the boar. Didn't anyone on the ship have any sense of decorum? Meals should at least be landed before they were gobbled up! Imagine if he and his siblings had attacked the servants, platter in hand, halfway to the dinner table! It would be scandal enough to make the morning newspaper. And yet such a question might as well be an oxymoron. The day he saw a decorous pirate was the day he woke up with blue hair.

On the topic of oddly colored hair, if anything was more repellant than rambunctious pirate children, it was the pair that was next to make their way over to the feast.
Captain Woods and Apollo.
The sight of that outlandish fuchsia made Iksel instinctively recoil, but then he remembered that he had, after all, been told to fetch her. Though when he thought about it, he couldn't remember for the life of him which of the scurvy thieves had been the one to ask him to do it. Oh well then. All the pirate likely wanted from the painter was more than her duties should entail. Not to mention that she appeared to be getting plenty enough of that kind of attention from the Captain already.

It was impossible for Iksel to hide his disgust as he observed the pair, unable to turn away as if watching a ship wreck and yet growing more incensed and aghast by the second. What audacity for them to behave like feelsy hooligans in plain sight of the entire crew--! They could at least have the decency to get their own cabin first!

He would never understand Apollo's appeal. He supposed she was - completely objectively - not hideous, but unable to hold a candle to the beauty he saw in the quiet elegance of his older sister, or the other gentlewomen he knew. Besides, subjectively, Apollo's attitude was boorish at best, completely reprehensible at worst. Perhaps life on the winds had addled these men's brains, and they were truly just that starved for female companionship. Thank the good graces of Fate to spare him being enslaved by anything of that nature. Iksel had always been the type to manage firmly sticking his head to his studies, too preoccupied with staring at those ahead of him to have time for a wandering gaze. Not to say that his brilliance and good looks went unnoticed. Though after, perhaps not-so-delicately, rejecting more than one proposal, word got out among the girls that he was of an "ill temper." Eventually they had stopped asking, and the giggling glances they used to throw him had been slowly replaced by cool scowls. Which was all fine and dandy. Less distractions meant more time to focus on what really mattered. Even if it meant having to put up with the occasional whispering about where, if not with fine young women, his predilections might lie. Not to mention the accusations of "all that time" he spent with Lauriel. Well, pirates weren't the only ones capable of uncouth behavior. At least the few rabble-rousers at the academy could be ignored as long as he outshone them.

Though it had always bothered Iksel to see (usually right after he had given some speech on the importance of prioritizing training over...thinking with one's loins) his rival Vardan - still somehow top of their class - walk by with a set of laughing ladies trailing off each arm.

Muttering to himself, put into an even darker mood than usual at the thought of his eternal foe, Iksel was finally able to tear his eyes away from the outrageous couple when his gaze was snagged by the sharp bellows that could only come from one very large dog. Each new ripple of sound tore through his chest like a musket ball and he frantically whirled around to find the source.

To his complete horror, the Captain's mutt was about to attack the poor, weird little cat that he often saw hanging around Brie's offices. The dreadful beast was crouched down, ready to pounce, bewildering its hapless prey with its horrid barks.

Flying behind the food table Iksel could do little more than cower behind the man - Winston - that Brie had inadvertently introduced him to earlier. All aversion to touching anything pirate-contaminated momentarily forgotten, the cabin boy clutched the man's arms, positioning him in-between himself and dog (though said creature was still rather far away, especially given the myriad bodies separating them). Trying (and failing) to recollect himself, he could only manage out a few blurry words.

"You have...do something... ...the C-C-Cat!"

IctoraPost ​

 

[Ronan]

STEP_AUTHCOMMAND.BUI / ACCESS TERMINAL : V003.

[ INITIALISING ... ]
[ struct group_info=usage=NOVA_(1) ]

IS THAT IT? A mystery—a pale moon's beauty behind the veil of clouds? Nine's expression had changed. She would've never known had she not been so close to her. It took a year of Nova in Nine's presence for her to understand and discern the sudden transformation in her tone and body language. Nine didn't reveal much, but when she did, Nova treasured it. She adapted to the kindness hidden under layers of insecurity. Sometimes it was just a look; sometimes it was a gentle hand on her shoulder; sometimes it was just her presence in the room to let Nine know that she was here. She may not understand; she may never fully grasp the true depth of emotions (maybe she could, once upon a time), but she did try. She learned the appropriate responses to emotions. Mimicked it; memorised it. Sadness is equal to a comforting hug. Happiness is equal to smiling. Anger is equal to submission or war. But in this case, it was her cedar-gaze fixed on the hardening features of Nine's facial lines. She hoped to convey a, 'we will talk later,' and a 'you are beautiful' in her scrutiny. Nova truly came to value Nine's companionship and friendship in the year she had gotten to know her. She inadvertently taught the mechanic how to be softer and aware. She would always be aware of Nine. Never anyone else. Maybe Nine didn't feel the same way towards her, but Nova still valued her all the same.

She turned away from Nine, briefly ignoring the cracks in her shell for Angelica, still snotty-nosed and terribly drunk. She scoffed at her comment about men: how easily they fawn over the fairest in the room and not careless towards the things that made a person. Only beauty. She leans forward in her cross-legged position, drawing Angelica in with a hint of a smile beseeched in her autumn face, ❛ All t'men? ❜ Her grin grew as if she was onto something. ❛ You're pretty, Angie. Opal and Apollo are nice, but nothin' special. Captain's just a lamecarchos. He'll fuck anything that moves. ❜

Nearby, there's a loud spat of a drink at the boldness of the comment. So? Nova knew she was right. Give the Captain a goat and he'll gladly fuck it. Name the goat Apollo or Opal and he'll stick in twice.

She sniffs, gives a rub of her nose, and continues, unbothered by the criticism. ❛ Leave Toki and Leksi t'me. They seem t'listen 'cause they're weird about the arm— ❜ She gives her left arm a shake. ❛ Seem t'think I'll strangle 'em or something. M'not a cyborg. But Brie? Yeah, girl's all yours. Don't want anything t'do with her. ❜

She turned back to Nine, hopefully not too taken aback by the brashness of her commentary. Have I been enjoying the party? Piracy Day is so old and dull. To newcomers, it was practically a festival for the ages. She enjoys a goblet of ale but that's it. She'd rather have a drink and then get back to work or set out to explore Ruins. She was good at building bombs. A month ago she blasted a hole in a mountainside to see if there was a Portal. Nothing. But she was still good at her job. She was an invaluable part of the excavation team. ❛ Mmmm—aburrido. Es lo mismo todos los años. I'll have a piece of t'boar later. You? Have y'eaten? ❜ Sometimes Nine forgot to eat. Sometimes Nova forgot to eat, too. It was just one of the many facets of their friendship.

Anyways, so here we are: Piracy Day, year fifteen. Here's to a boring, future year sixteen coming.

[ SEARCH TAGS : Syrenrei / The One Called X ]

 

[IctoraPost]

Winston watched as Brie dashed off into the crowd, leaving behind the boar, the boy, and the horde of drunk, hungry pirates thirsting for the taste of meat for him to deal with. But that was fine. He was the one who offered, after all. Thanking the almighty gods for his decision did seemed a little excessive, but, with a life potentially on the line, that was fair enough. Hopefully, whoever had called was in the care of the surgeon now, where she could work her magic and fix everything.

And Brie was definitely a worker of magic, a fixer of everything. The carpenter could still vividly remember the time when he broke both his legs in an unfortunate accident while working in the engine room, and the surgeon had been there within minutes. After only a month, he was back on his feet again, returning to the jobs that had been shunted onto Nova and the other carpenters. And there was that cat of hers. Just like Nova's arm, he had no idea how Brie had managed to attatch functional mechanical parts onto a living being. The gun was a slight anomaly - how in the world did the animal even reload the thing? - but he was sure that it had some purpose he hadn't thought of. Brie was just that smart of a person. And a very good cook as well. Speaking of cooking...

Winston blinked. A third of the boar had disappeared. When did that happen? His diligence was wavering. Focus on the job. Still, the boy seemed to be handling the situation relatively - huh? Why- Heaven? No- Okay, it seemed that the responsibility of the boar had changed hands. Now the lust of the pirates had turned to him. The lust for food. Not the other one. Even the quartermaster was weaving his way towards him. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and raised the dish over his head, calmly surveying his audience with a gaze that could still water. A hush fell upon the onlookers. Not even the faint sounds of music, nor the uproarious din of the distant crowd could penetrate this bubble of silence. Winston spoke.

"People. Friends, comrades. Brothers, sisters. I stand before you today, bearing this platter of meat - this holy offering from the almighty gods of heaven - as the finest boar you have ever tasted. This is the dish that will make you smile 'till you turn blue; that will make you lust after any boar you see for the rest of your lives. This is the dish you will be telling your grandchildren, and your grandchildren's grandchildren. This is the dish that will be passed on for generations as the greatest dish ever conceived. This is the dish that will make your day.

"So I implore you, crewmates, siblings. I request you all be more patient, more humble. More in tune with nature itself, and let others taste the wonderous sensation that is this boar. Do not be selfish, for selfishness leads to downfall. Do not be a glutton, for gluttony is unworthy. Do not stoop so low as to commit these atrocities. Do not waver in your diligence. Do not be afraid, for we are with you. Let the light guide your way, so as to not fall to the darkness. Trust in the light, for, if it ever leads you astray, there will always be something, or someone, greater, watching, ready to help in times of need. Let not the shadows consume. Let us all eat boar."

And with that, he slowly lowered the dish, gently settling it on a nearby table as the crowd watched on in awed silence. Then, swiftly, he tore off a strip of the meat and consumed it in front of the rapt gathering. There was a pause. Then a tumultuous cheer! The swarm closed in and tore apart the carcass, piece by piece, to the bone. Glory. Life. Enlightenment. Victory.

Winston stepped back from the ruckus. These people really were drunk, to actually think the rubbish he spouted out actually meant anything. Grinning to himself, he was about to turn and leave when he felt something clutch his arm and heard a trembling voice squeak out. Spinning around, he saw what the boy saw - the great, big beast harassing the poor, little, gun-toting cyborg feline. He knew Diablo well enough to be fairly sure that the dog wouldn't hurt the cat, but, just in case...

Jumping back into the feasting crowd, the carpenter ripped a rib from the now-meatless meat dish and darted towards the trouble, past the loitering in-betweeners. Arriving at the fight scene, he slammed the bone in front of the assailant with one hand, scooped up the hapless victim with the other, then strolled back to where the boy was standing, plopping the cat in his arms. "There. Make sure to return him to Brie when you get the chance."

Pretzel Heart

 

[Chordling]

Woods raised his own eyebrow and smirked at Apollo's coy response. The captain did not mind if she slept with other men. He would be a hypocrite if he was. Apollo could have any man she wanted just like he could seduce all the women he desired. But if anything bothered the captain, it was the order of which things happened. Sure, Apollo could have another gentleman for the night, but the other fellow would have to wait his turn. Woods made sure to express his thoughts to Apollo through another library of enticing murmurs.

Diablo's barks ripped through the air once more and dragged the captain's attention away. He was clearly upset about something but god only knew specifically what it could have been. The whining pup weaved his way through the crowd towards his owner and sat by the captain's feet. Diablo looked up with a sad pair of eyes and pressed his ears against his head.

"Cat please," he tried to say but Woods didn't seem to understand. He turned his head towards Apollo, hoping she might know what he meant.

"Cheer up," Woods said. "I need you to find the boatswain, quartermaster, and pilot. Remind them to see me in my quarters an hour after the celebration has finished." It wasn't the answer Diablo had been looking for, but at least it was something to do, and probably would make him feel better about the loss of his new feline companion. "I have a meeting with a few of my crew members later this evening," the captain turned to Apollo. "You are more than welcome to join me before then." He sent the woman one more devilish grin before releasing her from his grip and disappearing through the mass of bodies.

As the music continued to flow through the middle decks, Diablo pushed his way through the party in search of the captain's desired company. He gave the quartermaster a gentle nudge with his nose when he found him by a table of food scraps and gave a small woof. The look in his eyes meant that he meant business and that business specifically required meeting with the captain. Next, he found Torrey again, sitting beside Opal. This time, he wasn't looking for leftovers. Diablo sat in front of the boatswain and lightly wagged his tail back and forth. He licked his nose, panted for a few moments, then left. Torrey would understand.

The afternoon dragged into the evening. Nearly every piece of food had been consumed. Trash of every variety littered the middle decks and everything reeked of B.O. and alcohol. Diablo was still trying to find the pilot.

"Angelica!" he woofed, but there didn't seem to be any immediate response. Eventually, he found her huddled near a corner with Nine and Nova. Was she... crying? His tail lowered as he pushed his way towards the pilot. Gently, he licked a snot filled tear or two away from her face. After attempting to cheer her up, he cut straight to the chase and informed her in two woofs that the captain needed to meet with her. Yes, meeting with the captain would make her feel better. It always made Diablo feel better. Without any further commands, Diablo ran off to find his captain once more.

Spoiler: GM Instructions

SentinelSevn , Alecto , ApfelSeine , IctoraPost , Kaerri , Life. , Pretzel Heart , Rhakun Ronan , Syrenrei , The One Called X , whitepaperplates , and YumenoTsukishiro

Hello, maties!

At this point, all of your previous conversations have ended. The afternoon has turned into the late evening and everyone is beginning to clean up now that the party has finished.

Kaerri , Alecto , and The One Called X , you have been ordered to meet with the captain in his quarters. You may help with cleaning up but should start heading towards the captain's quarters pretty soon. Don't worry about knocking. Woods will not be with Apollo by the time you are to arrive.

Everyone else is free to begin new conversations at their own will. The cabins are now open. All areas of the ship are now accessible. Rumors from the day's event will likely circulate through the ship. Feel free to do with this as you please but please keep it under control.

 

[Kaerri]

Torrey Singer, Boatswain

Diablo's attentions to the cat distracted Torrey from his own awkward attempt at conversation. He could tell the dog was just being playful, but he wasn't sure if the cat was equally aware. He set his plate down and started to wobble to his feet, only to be forestalled by one of the ship's carpenters. "Thanks..." he searched his inebriated mind for the man's name, hoping he remembered the right one, "... Winston!" Reaching down to pat Diablo's head, he found himself back in the chair again. "Sorry, boy, but I don't think Berry wanted to play right now."

He watched as the dog made his way over to the captain, who spoke to him briefly, then to the quartermaster, then back to Torrey himself. "I haven't gotten more yet," he began, then realized the dog was looking at him, not the licked-clean plate. Clearly Diablo wanted something, but what? Torrey stared back into the dog's eyes, wishing one of them could actually speak the other's language. Then suddenly the dog moved off, apparently in search of someone else.

Dog, captain, quartermaster, self, someone else. Torrey started humming under his breath, thinking, then realized he had some other urgent business to take care of while he figured out what Diablo had wanted. Pushing back up to his feet, he shrugged ruefully at Opal. "Sorry, lass, I need to head... to the head. Eheheh. Sorry. Back in a bit, maybe." He wove his way through the crowd to the proper room, found an empty seat, and took care of his business. Washing up after, he turned his attention back to the problem of the dog's message.

Dog, captain, quartermaster, self... who else had the dog been looking for? Suddenly he smacked his palm into his forehead. Of course! The meeting! Which meant he probably ought to cut off the alcohol for the night, so as to be properly sober for it. Food would help too. He wended towards the food tables, forking up a new plateful of tidbits (including some of that delicious-looking boar), but kept to water for a drink. When he'd emptied the plate, he set it to one side and rejoined the dancing, quite a bit steadier this time. He didn't do a lot of dancing ordinarily, but he had a good sense of rhythm, and as the alcohol wore off, his feet went where he told them to. He was particularly good at (and fond of) jigs, but danced cheerfully along to anything the musicians played.

As the party began to wind down, Torrey started circulating through the room, gathering up abandoned dishes and tableware. With the captain wanting to see him not long after the party was over, he thought he'd get cleanup going a bit early. It wouldn't hurt, and it'd be less work for the others to do. He eyed a few of the ship's female crew along the way, but didn't speak to any aside from responding to greetings and such. When he had a good-sized stack of dishes, he carried them back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink, then returned to get a new stack.

Several such stacks later, he decided he'd done his part and headed for the captain's cabin. Knocking twice, he let himself in and nodded to those already there.

 

[The One Called X]

Angelica started to tear up again. "Aw, Nine. M'sorry I got all yelly. Got a lot of feelings. My mouth keeps saying stuff. We- we should take leave, probably. And- and do something. Fun. Fun is good. You're- you're the best. You're aces."

She pushed Nine's comment about Aleksander to the back of her mind. She didn't- she didn't like him that way. He was just nice to look at, is all, and she liked talking to him, even if she did get all stammer-y about it sometimes.

Then Nova spoke up, and Angelica had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles. She didn't know exactly what the Spanish word meant, but Nova's tone indicated that it wasn't anything good. She didn't even mind that Nova had called her Angie. "Shh. You're not supposed to say stuff like that about the captain," she said, grinning, her eyes shining with delight. She leaned forward, pitching her voice to a stage whisper. "Even if they're true."

She leaned back again, still snickering. It was all right if people heard her. The Captain knew damn well that she had no compunctions about backtalk. He wouldn't do anything about it unless she said or did something real drastic, on account of his odds of finding another pilot half as good as her were infinitesimal. Say what you would about the man's personality, he was a good leader and willing to put up with a lot for the sake of having the best people on his crew.

She frowned a little. It rankled to admit that Woods had good points, even in her head. Joey took a break from watching Nova in order to shift his gaze back at Angelica, as though he knew what she were thinking. Angelica scrunched her nose at him, and he huffed before going back to his observation.

She was beginning to feel a little better. Her face was still wet, her eyes seeming to not have gotten the message that she felt less sad now. It was irritating. But her head was a bit clearer. Still fuzzy, but it was easier to hold a train of thought. She shrugged at Nova's comments on Brie.

"Yeah, she can be a bit much sometimes. She's just- she doesn't- she ain't like the rest of us, y'know? She ain't- she's- she never saw a whole lot of trouble in her life. So she don't always- she don't always know how it is, with folk like us. So she comes on pretty strong." She paused, eyeing her drink. It wasn't completely drained yet. She pushed off of the wall, grabbed the tankard, and set it as far away from herself as she could reach before slumping back again. She didn't care to be quite that drunk again. She didn't think she liked being drunk in general. She was a little less in the throes of it now, enough to be aware of how meandering and slippery her mind felt, and that just made everything unnerving. She was saying all sorts of things she wouldn't normally, and she couldn't seem to stop the flow of words. "Dunno why everyone's odd about th' arm. S'just an arm. Could happen to anybody. S'like with Joey. Everyone's scared of 'im on account of the scars and the teeth but really he's just a dog. Stuff happened to him, is all, just like anybody else."

She took a deep breath, leaving Nova and Nine to their conversation. They seemed to be pretty good friends. Angelica tried to get her brain to calm down. Thinking about Joey's past had made her all weepy again, damn it all. Bastard rich kids and their barbaric bloodsport hobbies. Bastards. Hadn't even gave him a proper name- called him the Destroyer or Killer or Undertaker, some edgy nonsense like that. Not like he knew what he was called. What kind of monster spent the kind of money on a dog they'd spent on Joey and didn't even bother teaching him his name?

Her thoughts were interrupted by sad dog noises. Diablo, she thought. He was a lot more vocal than Joey, at least in public. She looked up as the black lab licked her face, laughing a little. Diablo was a sweet dog.

Joey, meanwhile, had reacted quickly to Diablo's presence. He'd sprung to his feet as he realized that the other dog was approaching, backing several steps away as tension suffused his body. He knew that Diablo would not hurt Angelica, but he made Joey horribly nervous. Diablo was a very big dog. He was a bit smaller than Joey, but not by as much as, say, Berry, and so it was very difficult to ignore him. Joey did not want to fight with Diablo. Diablo probably did not want to fight with Joey, either, but Joey worried. He lowered his head, ears flat, looking away respectfully. He licked his nose, his tail stump wagging uncertainly.

When Diablo left, Joey went immediately to Angelica's side. He yawned widely, shaking off to calm himself before sitting next to her, leaning into her.

Angelica took a deep breath, scrubbing at her face with her sleeve. Other dogs made Joey nervous if they were more than half his size. She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve, trying to force herself to be calm. If she stayed scattered and upset, Joey would feed off of that and just get more nervous. If she was calm and steady, he'd settle down easier. Diablo was a real good dog, but he had awful timing. He didn't usually seek people out when they didn't have food, unless- "Shit," she said. "Captain's looking for me. Shit. Meeting. I forgot. Because drunk. Gotta- gotta get sober, shit, fuck it all."

She stood up slowly, using the wall for support. She had to wait a moment for her head to stop spinning. "Nine. Nova. Was a pleasure talking to y'all. You're- you're good folks. I gotta- gotta eat somethin', that helps with the drunk, yeah? Then I gotta talk to the Captain. God help me. Bastard. But- I'll see y'all later. All right. I can walk in a straight line. Yeah."

Having thus made her farewells, she patted Joey's head and made her way carefully towards the food table. The dog stayed behind- the party still had enough momentum to unnerve him. He shifted ever so slightly closer to Nine, though he continued to keep an eye on Angelica.

Angelica took her time getting to the food. Woods was probably still busy with Apollo, and she didn't want to stumble on anything that she'd have to get drunk again to forget. She took care to savor the food instead of just scarfing it straight down- it was Piracy Day, after all, and she should try to enjoy at least some of it.

A few minutes after eating, she felt far steadier on her feet. Embarrassment crept up on her. She'd gotten weepy drunk on a portion and a half of watered-down ale. She'd taken in little enough alcohol that one good meal was enough to sober her up, and yet she'd been that far gone. She probably owed Nova and Nine an apology. She couldn't hold her liquor for shit. She hoped it hadn't been noticed by too many people.

Joey appeared at her side. The party had wound down, people bustling in and out, everyone who wasn't passing-out drunk helping with cleanup. The sounds of work were less unsettling than the sounds of revelry, and Joey was finally comfortable enough to move around freely. Angelica took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back. Time to go see the captain.

When she got to the captain's quarters, she let herself in. Her heart, infuriatingly, sped up a little when she laid eyes on him, and she crossed her arms, smirking in a way that she hoped would get on his nerves as Joey sat down beside her.

Syrenrei Ronan Chordling

 

[Syrenrei]

It was nice hearing Angelica call Nine "aces" but the fun comment missed the mark. Nine wasn't talking about taking leave to have fun. To her fun and fulfillment was conducting experiments as she did in her quarters, plundering ruins for seeds and flora, running the greenhouse on the ship with an iron fist, and exploring the world of botany. The Cold Raven gave her more opportunities than the Giovanni did simply because she could be part of the salvaging parties on the surface, combing through the soil for superior materials. Pirates were steadfast comrades but not necessarily adept at distinguishing an abnormal leaf shape and coloration that was indicative of newfound mutation. Nine understood their expertise lay elsewhere. Similarly, she could not discern intricacies in machinery, carpentry, or alchemy as they were not her specializations. The sort of adventure Woods' ship provided was absent on the Giovanni. Regardless, it was technically possible for her to continue profession as a researcher and scientist aboard either ship. What fun could the Giovanni possibly provide that The Cold Raven could not? What was Angelica imagining?

Nine just assumed it was a pleasant notion, a passing remark, without too much thought. The wild parties that pirates often threw were not the sort of affairs she could attend comfortably though Angelica was of age to do so now. Drinking and dancing, much like tonight, would be more enjoyable for the young woman. It would take more time and focus before Nine imagined she could dance and in such close proximity. If this was still the military she could ease into the touching with a formal ball, waltzing across a polished floor with a single suitor, knowing that the most contact she'd have with others would be when their trails of gowns brushed against one another. That was a lovely thought. For all its flaws (and there were many), Nine sometimes wished she had been in one of the upper echelons of the society to enjoy the fruits of elite social standing.

Although Nine saw the glances of Nova, she neither commented nor acknowledged them. It would be difficult to have a proper conversation about their differing opinions on the subject of Nine's physical attributes. She also suspected that Nova would want to privately discuss this plan to leave the ship. Both of the women were damaged in their own ways but Nine admired that Nova felt so rooted and accomplished. It was truly enviable. Her seniority alone made her irreplaceable and it felt as if there was little that Nova could not do. There were less tangible ways for Nine to prove herself, as a scientist could spend their entire life making little or no advances with experiments; greater minds had been rewarded with only failure despite their genius. Nine was desperate to have a legacy. Hers could not be in the impressive construction of the ship, nor the repair thereof, and it would not be as one of the best swordsmen, sharpshooters, nor most enduring pirates. No matter what she thought or believed, Nine was certain Nova's actions and most of the rest of the crew would echo for decades. What of her? Nine wanted a discovery, and if that could not be certain, she wanted to build family. Family! Did Nova did not miss hers? Where were they?

Rambling daydreams were pierced by Nova's bold assertion that Woods would 'fuck anything that moves.' It wasn't completely untrue so Nine made no effort to contradict it; in fact, it elicited laughter from the researcher. Nine laughed long and hard, tears almost in her eyes, at Nova's candid truth and how simply she was able to state it. It would be a lie to say that it didn't immediately conjure even more hilarious images to her mind. Next time she saw Woods she would have difficulty looking him in the eye without giggling under her breath.

Nine didn't know Iksel nor Toki well enough to comment on them. As younger members of the crew she didn't cross paths with them often. If Captain Woods had started an education program and wanted her to tutor them in science then she might be more familiar, but as it stood she kept to her studies and they kept to their work. With a roll of her shoulder she glanced towards the other subject of the discussion- Brie. The insanity their surgeon possessed was disconcerting and Nine avoided her, but it was hard to dismiss her on those grounds alone. Intellectual brilliance often found itself coupled with eccentricity or mental illness. Nine wouldn't be surprised if most of the crew considered her crazy. "She's nice enough, but it can be exhausting to talk to her," she weighed in, agreeing with both in part. "I think she's seen her own amount of trouble, it's just internalized rather than external. Her intensity is not my issue, but rather her constantly shifting focus." Well, that and the creepy as hell skull that Brie called her thinking cap.

" I haven't eaten," Nine admitted. "Too much of a crowd," she said with a gesture towards the mass of bodies that had descended upon the meat on the other side of the room. It wasn't worth risking a drunkard rubbing against her or groping her, even if it wasn't malicious, simply to have a serving of boar. There would be leftovers to be certain as Brie had outdone herself. Once everyone retreated to their rooms, or that of their crewmates, for sleep and/or sex, she'd make herself a plate. Nine wasn't picky about what she ate; as long as it wasn't raw meet or completely burnt beyond recognition she'd enjoy it well enough.

Diablo ran up to them, licking Angelica's face, woofing at her, and then disappearing. Joey seemed unsettled though Nine imagined that eventually Diablo and Joey might make excellent playmates. Joey just needed more time- a feeling she knew all too well. Angelica mumbled about needing to get sober for a meeting and then excused herself while Joey kept close to the remaining pair as she ventured into the throng of people. Nine sighed lightly to herelf and, in an attempt to distract Nova from the subject of those leaving plans, babbled on for a spell about her mutated walnuts endeavor. This crop that was just now growing might produce an oil that would reinforce the wood of their ship. As Nova was a carpenter surely she would be interested.

The One Called X Ronan

 

[Ronan]

STEP_AUTHCOMMAND.BUI / ACCESS TERMINAL : V004.

[ INITIALISING ... ]
[ struct group_info=usage=NOVA_(1) ]

NOVA STIFLED A LAUGH, her dimpled cheeks prominent with keeping it contained. It was not often she made a frank comment like that ( most of the crew avoided her ), but Angelica drunken stupor encouraged it. She smiled seeing Nine doubled over in laughter and Angelica struggling to suffocate hers for fear that others would hear. So? The whole ship could hear and she could not give a shit. Captain Woods can't touch her. He's defenceless against the rumours and Nova has all the ammo. She swipes the stray tears from her eyes, the laughter dying down and offers an Adios Angie-Mangie as Angelica leaves with Joey, waddling between the tables and determined to un-drunk herself before her meeting the Captain.

‵ Y'know Brie barged in on my shower last week? Ripped open th' curtains and stepped in and had a full conversation w'me about m'arm. She seemed unfazed, ′ Nova added thoughtfully. It was hard to decipher how she felt about the intrusion. It wasn't surprise; Nova isn't shy about her body, but there was a certain shock to be had at the surgeon's boldness.

She exchanged another smile with Nine. She would kick Brie off the ship if she ever tried to do that to her, Captain Woods be damned. Nova sniffed and turned around to glance at the dining table, still crowded with people and conversation. She'll eat later with Nine after they've left. ‵ Yeah, a crowd, ′ she agreed. ‵ M'not eating 'til they're all gone. ′

She uncrossed her legs and moved from her spot to Angelica's against the wall, still warm and now directly next to Nine, knees pulled up against her chest. With the pilot gone, Nine began to talk about mutated walnuts, something she became engrossed with listening to. The scientist was brilliant; she contributed much to the ship: ideas, femininity, and a firm voice of reason. The Cold Raven wouldn't be the same without her, and who knew the crew desperately needed a Nine? They were missing out until recently. Nova's previous years on the ship were dull. She got along well enough with Winston, but they often stayed out of each other's way and delegated their tasks. The others were busy and they had members come and go. They were all the same: looking for a legacy leave in the realm of Piracy. Nova only wanted the desert again. Home. Wherever it is now, and to complete her revenge. She wasn't concerned with legacies. Retribution and rebuilding the Sahara dust is where her heart is — if she had one. ‵ Would th' walnut oil need t'be painted on th' exterior? Might be hard. Winston usually takes care of that and I work on th' engines, but it's doable. We'll have t'test it first, though. ′

Maybe she did have a heart, however small. For years she was just the engineer with a cybernetic arm that everyone feared and simultaneously revered. Nine brought more than science and reason to the crew, she brought friendship. Something Nova never knew she'd been missing. She had been content to simply move through life, no matter how dull until her arrival. Yeah, Nova would always protect her. She stood up from the wall and offered her right hand, her human hand, to the scientist, ‵ C'mon. Let's go to m'workshop down in th' engine room. Winston's busy so he won't bother us, and I can show you th' ship design and how we get th' walnut oil on it. Acuerdo? If it works, we can bring it to Cap'n Fucks-A-Lot and get t'work. ′

[ SEARCH TAGS : Syrenrei ]

 

[SentinelSevn]

"Oi, OI! Get a move on! We have to get the ship back in workable condition before we decide to fly again." The sound of Emil yelling across half the airship's middle deck resounded like an echo, the aftereffects of the party catching nearly everyone consumed in its merriment in a lackadaisical mood. The drunkards had their headaches, the stuffed had their tummyaches, but Emil was far behind either of those conditions to understand the suffering the others were going through.

"Get yer arses moving! 'les you want some leftover hog from tonight's feast to smack ye upside the head mid flight. Clean laddies!" It wasn't vital to have the ship as clean as Emil wanted, in fact it would be rather useless considering everything would go flying the next time the captain decided to toss them within the midst of another skirmish. However it was during this time Emil had his fun with the crew. His own chance to lead aside from when the ship was heavy into the thralls of combat. Near all feared an angry Emil, or they were at least intimidated by his standards. The fact that he was getting them all to clean was enough motivation in itself that he might have them on scrubbing duty even without the captain's approval.. somehow..

Even Emil was taking part in some of the cleaning, grasping the remains of someone's boney portion of Brie's finely cooked hog, and tossing it some wandering pirate gathering the mess. " 'ere, take that off my hands, will ye. Give it Diablo or Joey, will ya? They might like a bone to chew on while we're movin' in the air or somethin'. " The gunner hardly had any relationship with the hounds, seeing them wandering the deck or even doing their part in assisting the crew. But like with the way he is with children, he treats them far differently than he would with other pirates. Almost like he had a sweet spot for the canines, just not quite as obvious as it was with the kids.

 

[Alecto]

The number of people that had taken notice of the roasted boar made Aleksander's stomach drop slightly as he pushed his way through the crowd. There was no way he was going to get there before it will be stripped to the bone, he always had the boar and he was not about to miss it, gods be damned so he had pushed through the crowd and reached the boar just in time for Winston's voice to start ringing out above the all the noise.

When the man finished, Aleksander had been ready to tear into the boar as much as the rest of the crew, but then he felt something brush against his leg. Looking down to see Diablo, the captain's trusted companion, Aleksander barely heard the woof the dog let out because of all the sloppy chewing and drunken chatter around them. It did not, however, take a genius to figure out what the dog meant, not with the glint in his eyes. He had been hoping to retire to his quarters - preferably with someone - after all the celebration, but it looks like he had to abandon that plan. Oh well, he snorted to himself as he tried to get food, all the while trying to keep his glass from spilling all over the place. The floors were already filthy; he'd rather not add to the mess, especially since he wasn't exactly drunk.

He balanced a couple of plates of food as he tried to make his way back to his table; a cheer went up from the men as he set all the food down. Shaking his head, he nursed his drink - and no more - for the rest of the celebration, deciding that meeting the captain drunk off his ass wasn't a good idea at all. While might have earned his keep and his position, and will probably not lose his position for something so trivial; there was no need for embarrassment. As the celebration began to come to an end, with some people sobering up and a couple more passed out, Aleksander helped out with bringing some of those who were stumbling badly to their respective rooms, having a laugh as they told him some of the antics they had gotten into. As he helped one last man into their room, Aleksander figured that they really did need this break after the last couple of weeks, happy for the little bit of time for just relaxing and having a drink. He most certainly did that during the last weeks; in his quarters after hours, but there was something different when you have people with you.

Now, though, it was back to work, he thought to himself as he made his way to the captain's quarters as quickly as possible, maneuvering through people stumbling for their rooms. As much as he wanted to make sure no one knocked themselves out, he had business to attend to. Upon reaching the captain's quarters, he rapped on the door thrice before letting himself in, "You wanted to see me, Captain?" The corners of his lips quirked up as he saw Torrey and Angelica, "Ah, apparently I'm not that special." He quipped as he closed the door behind him.


Chordling The One Called X Kaerri

 

[IctoraPost]

As the party wound down, its mechanisms exhausted and its lubricant spent, people began wandering off to bed, for sleep or otherwise, sober or otherwise. Some left with a stomachful of satisfaction, full and content. Some left with an armful of man or woman, eager for the night ahead. Some left with wobbling legs, wandering footsteps and wavering bodies. And some were left to clean up the mess that everyone had left behind.

It was a mess that eradicated any sense of cleanliness in the room and leaked into the hallways beyond, creeping across the floor and smothering any who ventured near. It was a danger; a pest; a parasite that fed on the celebratory celebrations of the day to become a bloated monster of monstrous monstrosity. Only the brave souls of Those Left Behind could ever hope so beat back such an abomination, for no others had the will to stay, the fortitude to fight, nor the misfortune of being yelled at to clean up by the ferocious gunner.

Winston knew it was all for show - well, some of it, at least - but Emil's bellowing voice still compelled him to clean up as best he could, as fast as he could, and as discreetly as he could. Discarded cups, mugs, tankards and glasses littered the floor, along with plates, food scraps, overturned tables, and something brown and sticky. The carpenter cautiously nudged at it with a boot. It was a stick. Maybe someone had stolen it from the greenhouse? Crouching down, he stared stared at the thing, hard, as if the answer to its origin could be extrated from it using eyepower alone. Which, of course, it couldn't. Unsatisfied, he pocketed the anomaly, making a mental note to ask one of the researchers whether they were missing a wooden twig.

Just as he got to his feet, however, a pile of bones were thrust into his field of view, causing him to stumble back a little. Oh, it was just Emil, asking him to give the discarded bones to the dogs. Very well. He'd already given one to Diablo, who hadn't seemed too enthusiastic about it - probably because his Berry good friend had just been carried away. Someone had once told Winston that bones were actually bad for dogs - something about it splintering and puncturing the animal's stomach. If that were true, then he'd best not give these organ-killing weapons of death to the ship's pets, but if it were false, then he would be disobeying the indirect sort-of orders of a kind-of-but-not-really superior. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

SentinelSevn

 

[SentinelSevn]

Emil's entrusting of the bones to Winston initially went without a doubt to the gunner, continuing his seemingly inexhaustible commanding of the deck's cleanup. "C'mon boys, the quicker ye' can get all this bloody rubbish off the deck, the quicker yer heads can hit yer pillows for the night." It wasn't until Emil looked back over his shoulder that Emil recognized the pirate being Winston, the ship's very own carpenter, and his slight predicament with the bones.

An evil smirk grew on the face of the gunner, thinking he would in fact have a bit of fun with the soft-spoken pirate and tease the carpenter's questionable look. Quickly approaching the pirate, he gave him a rather violent pat on the back; one loud enough to resound a light thud upon impact. Then, snaking his arm around the shoulder of the pirate, Emil brought Winston close to his side. "Whatsamatter, Winston? Scared o' these bones, are ye?" The gunner's face held a grin that immediately expressed his rather flippant attitude.

Emil grabbed one of the smaller bones in the pile he had earlier passed to Winston, eying it carefully before before looking back at the other pirate. "Ye aren't afraid of those puppies, are ye?" The two were never particularly close, meaning Winston's fears were far from on the tip of Emil's tongue.

Of course, with the pace Emil had the rest of the pirate's moving, the pirates of the mid-deck of the ship had nearly complete in their task of erasing any traces of the celebration held just a few hours prior. What remained of the food, which was really just a fifth of Brie's boar and meager amounts of bread and liquor, was set to a table along the bulkhead of the ship. The few collapsed drunkards, which to Emil's surprise did not contain Angelica, had been escorted somewhere nearby the medical bay in the off chance they grew ill. Even the spills of liquor or partially digested food, predictable from such a rowdy bunch, had been mopped and disposed of far away from anyone's quarters. Well, Emil wouldn't doubt the idea that a few of the youngsters brought it to the rooms of the researcher's as possible fertilizer. If he wasn't already chuckling when teasing Winston, he would have been at the thought.

IctoraPost

 

[Chordling]

Captain Woods was quietly relaxed in his chair when Torrey, Angelica, and Alek had entered the captain's quarters, one by one. Diablo was by the captain's feet, snoozing off the festivity's meal behind his master's desk. Placed on the surface were piles of documents and maps. Judging by their disorganization and the multiple notes engraved in charcoal, the papers had been analyzed greatly before. Captain Woods specifically laid out an old map of the ruins and a heavy book titled, A Scavenger's Survival Guide. The cover to the encyclopedia was long lost but the rest of it still remained well intact. Scribbled in elaborate cursive on the title page read, 'To my love, my queen, my happy ending, Belladonna'.

"Welcome," Woods began. "Now, let's get started." He pushed the large map forward and began to refer to different points with more charcoal. "We are here." A crude sketch of his family crest was plotted promptly in the North Ruins. "That means Xavier and his government scum are over here." Quickly, his pen slid across the paper to connect with a smudged representation of the government's logo. "And scavenger outings have been spotted along here, here, there, and over here." Simple dots located the areas of the scavengers. Logically, he connected them with the rest of the drawing. Woods had seen this formation before. The government often liked to create a parameter around the Arcaine with small scavenger outings. It was one of many ways they used to torrent away pirate ships. This had been illustrated by the charcoal outlines on the map.

He continued to show the trio where they had done their digging for the past few weeks. Then he drew the course that they had taken for the past couple of months, and so on. The original drawings on the map were beginning to become obscure. It would have been hard for some to even tell it had been a map in the first place. Slowly, the focused look he held turned into frustration, and rather red.

"So where the hell is the damn portal?!" he nearly screamed. The piece of carbon turned to dust as he slammed his palm against the desk. Diablo jumped from his nap and let out a quiet yawn. His paws pushed him into a sitting position and he waited for his sleepy gaze to focus. Unexpected, loud noises were not his favorite. The captain allowed his posture to relax and sighed as he watched for reports from the trio that he invited into his quarters. Out of the entire crew, they would be the most well informed. His quartermaster was knowledgeable of everyone's chores while his boatswain did all of the basic work anyway. And his pilot took them places. Where they were and when was crucial. Especially during a treasure hunt.

Kaerri , Alecto , and The One Called X

 

[The One Called X]

Angelica shifted her weight, feeling Joey slowly relax beside her as it became evident that Diablo had no interest in rousing from his nap. By the time Aleksander arrived, he'd settled down to lie on his stomach- aware, but not on alert. Angelica ducked her head when the quartermaster noted her presence, her affected smirk turning into a softer, more genuine smile without her express permission. "Aw, don't say that," she said, "I'm sure we're all equally special to the Captain."

She was fairly glad when the captain started to talk, jerking her out of the sudden self-consciousness that rose up after she spoke. It always seemed to happen whenever she had to talk around Aleksander. It was the oddest thing. She wasn't nervous of him, precisely, but... she always got horrendously nervous around him, conscious of herself and how she sounded and terrified of looking foolish. She was the tiniest bit nervous of Torrey- she hadn't seen him very much outside of working- but... she had seen him earlier at the party, and he'd seemed more approachable there, so perhaps he was all right. Joey didn't seem to mind him overmuch, at any rate, which was a rather large point in the boatswain's favor. Joey didn't care very much for men on the whole.

Angelica suppressed the urge to sigh as the captain continued to reiterate their path for the past few weeks. She knew the course fairly well already, and her mind started to wander. Joey, for his part, was focused mainly on Aleksander, who he disliked a bit more than he disliked most other people. He was content to devote only the smallest amount of attention to Torrey, who was mostly acceptable, and the captain, who was safely behind the desk where there would be plenty of warning if he decided to do anything. The man's outburst took them both by surprise. Angelica only started slightly, but Joey leapt to his feet, bristling, torn between bolting for the door and staying with Angelica.

Angelica exhaled harshly, crossing her arms. Irritation surged up, and she did her best to keep her voice level and calm so as to help Joey level out. "Easy, Joey-boy. S'alright. Our grand an' accomplished leader here was just havin' himself a little temper tantrum, is all. Nothin' to be concerned about."

Joey's hackles went down, though he remained standing and kept his head low, eyes now focused on Woods. Angelica's posture mirrored his, from the tension in her jaw to the surly set of her shoulders. It wasn't entirely warranted, perhaps, to be quite that annoyed. Then again, Woods knew damn well how bad shouting like that would spook Joey, especially in a closed room. Angelica wasn't inclined to be charitable about people upsetting Joey. And anyhow, what'd he expect? Chasing fairy tales didn't exactly lend itself to efficient time tables. She almost wanted to say as much, but... Woods was awful devoted to the idea of the Last Portal, and she'd already sassed him pretty strongly. Best not to poke the beast. She sighed. "The hell do you expect me to do about it, anyhow? We've been most everywhere the government ain't. I might be the best there is, but I can't work miracles, Captain. I take the Raven too close to that perimeter, and the whole damn military'll know we're there."

Chordling Alecto Kaerri

 

[Life.]

As time passed the energy of the party began to wind down. Many began staggering to their quarters and others were being dragged by sober ones to their rooms or to the medical bay. Of course some were being brought close to Brie's workspace. Some just couldn't handle the aftereffects of alcohol in their systems, and they believed that Brie could help them fix that. What many don't realize is that she simply gives them a placebo, or if they saw through her ploy then she'd give them a nasty home remedy to help with their hangover. At the current moment Brie was was flitting around from table to table gathering together what was left from the ravenous pirates. Surprisingly there was plenty of food left for a small meal. The cook slithered around others as she helped with the clean up. She directed those who was helping with the leftovers to the kitchen. Oh my there was quite some food left. I wonder if everyone ate?

Brie's attention was then caught by the sound of Emil and Winston's conversation. She turned over to see Winston in a bind of whether giving the bones to the dogs or not, Emil on the other hand was poking fun at him for not giving it to them so quickly. Immediately Brie's surgeon instincts kicked in and propelled the tiny girl forward. With a quick dash the surgeon charged forward in between the two tall men and swooped in and grabbed the bones from the carpenter's grasp. "No!" she yelled as skidded to a halt to turn and look at the men. "Bones bad for dogs," Brie panted out at first. She cleared her throat when she realized how odd she sounded, "I-I mean bones can be dangerous for dogs. It is best not to give it to them." The blonde woman's eyes moved between Emil and Winston for a moment before she gave a slight bow and walked away with the bones in hand.

Now that she solved a potential problem she stood there with bones in hand. What should I do with these bones? I could use them for a stew some time. Or maybe I should just throw it off the ship? Hm maybe Winston could have made it into daggers or something... Her thoughts were running all over the place as she continued moving dishes between the room and the kitchen. There wasn't silence in her mind until her eyes spotted Nine and Nova across the room. Brie had totally forgotten about her favorite patient and researcher until she saw them talking amongst themselves. Almost like a dog Brie made her way over to the two ladies with plates of leftovers that she was holding. Nova! Nine! Nova! Nine! Brie's enthusiasm accelerated as she walked over to them. The surgeon was not all too keen on how they may feel about her due to her admiration for them.

"Hiya gals!" Brie exclaimed as she came to a slight skidding halt in front of Nova and Nine, tilting the plates towards her to make sure that the food did not fall. "Did you guys eat? How are you guys? What'cha guys doing? Where are you going? Oh how's your arm Nova?" A flurry of questions left the surgeon's lips as she stood close to them. If her hands weren't full she would've tried inching her way towards the cybernetic arm, despite the consequences that she may have faced.

SentinelSevn IctoraPost Ronan Syrenrei

Oh what a wonderful day it is today. First it is loud and rowdy with the aimless festivities of the humans, the little humans tricked me into following the tiny light, and now I stand here facing the filthy, stinky beast that is known as Diablo. The claws of the black feline flexed in and out of his tiny paws as he stood there, ready to attack. His tail began to slowly puff up in an attempt to appear bigger. Berry even tilted the gun that was attached to him up towards the nose of the dog. He began wiggling his hindquarters as he felt a slight growl rumble in his chest. But just as he was about to jump one of the humans interrupted their interaction. It was a quick interception too as Berry saw Diablo quickly occupied and not a second later he was being lifted off the ground. What? What is going on? Let me down! I say, let me down! If only the humans could understand such a simple language. Yowls escaped the feline's mouth as he was lifted up from the ground until he felt himself placed onto the arms of another human. Oh great another human. Berry's gold eyes looked up to see whose arms he was in. It was the cabin boy. Hm it's the boy with the disgusted outlook. Almost like me. The other dumb humans don't see it but the human boy cannot fool me. Berry didn't enjoy the feeling of arms around him, so he swiftly jumped out of the boy's arms. With a quick look back to the cabin boy he gave a slight glare with his gold eye before walking away.

Pretzel Heart

 

[Kaerri]

Torrey Singer, Boatswain

Torrey grinned at the quartermaster's comment and the pilot's response. Personally, he figured the three of them probably were considered special, by the captain at least, since he'd invited just the three of them out of... well, offhand Torrey wasn't sure of the exact crew count, but three out of an awful lot was a pretty small fraction however the bottom number came out. But before he could say as much, Captain Woods called the meeting to order and began drawing on the map. Torrey observed the drawing's progression interestedly, comparing it to his own mental notes of where they were (and had been) compared to the others out and about. Used to the all-too-common unpredictability of tempers aboard ship, Torrey didn't react to the captain's sudden outburst, aside from a quick glance at Joey to make sure he wasn't dangerously startled. However, the dog settled down enough at his girl's command, so it seemed all was well in that quarter for now. Aside from the irritation it had provoked in her, that was, but the boatswain didn't blame her for that, any more than he blamed Woods for his frustration. None of which was answering the question at hand.

Keeping his voice mild and his stance neutral, he replied to them both, "Well, logically, either we've missed it, or they have, or one of us has found it without realizing what they've got. Or it isn't here at all and we're looking in the wrong place. Not all the 'prohibited' lands are tapped out; some are just too complicated to navigate." He looked apologetically at Angelica as he added, "Even with the best pilot on the planet." He leaned forward, looking for any section of the map that hadn't been drawn over yet.

Torrey wasn't sure he believed in the Last Portal, at least as pirate legend described it. Still, he figured any portal would be a coup if they could snatch it from under the government's nose, particularly if it happened to go somewhere pleasant, or at least not instantly lethal. It would be interesting to explore such a portal on its own merits, let alone the possibility of treasure. Torrey wasn't particularly ambitious, and liked his life well enough as it was, but he was as fond of money as the next person.

 

[Syrenrei]

Although her original intention had been to distract Nova from the plotting she had made to depart the ship at some juncture, she had become so immersed in her own topic that Nine had successfully distracted herself. She waxed poetic about plants enough that it almost sounded as if she held them in as high of regard as people. The impassioned speech about walnuts would have been exciting, given her enthusiasm, if it wasn't for the fact that Nine had spent so much time divulging rather boring scientific details. Nine had no issues explaining things patiently and simply, but sometimes she got so wound up she needed reminders her audience wasn't composed of botanists. Nova's quiet indulgence in Nine's diatribe had made her a poor storyteller or teacher- but Nine recognized it for what it was. Not just anyone would tolerate such a subject. Some well-meaning pirates rolled their eyes and walked away as they hadn't joined the ship to become academics. The mechanic placated her, engaged her, and treated her warmly. At times Nine was at a loss of how to properly show her appreciation.

"Oh, but... I'm not sure it's done yet," Nine stated. Nova's offer had jolted her out of her soliloquy and now she displayed a great deal of trepidation. It was one thing to have a failed experiment in private but another to have it witnessed by others. She held the woman beside her as a dear friend. Could she risk the blow to her pride if Nova saw the walnut oil do nothing? It would be much more humiliating than having a random cabin boy whose opinions mattered less watching. Thus far most of the current oil's predecessors had given negligible results. Nine wasn't sure how confident she was with the current strain of walnut. This one had the most promise by far but the researcher had a similar level of faith in the prior oils.

"It might not be a terrible idea to get some space, though," she admitted. While Nova had offered only her human arm, Nine did not have an aversion to the one comprised of metal. Most of the ship seemed to either be apprehensive about or obsessed but strangely Nine was neither. At best the scientist had a rudimentary knowledge of how mechanical things worked and she acknowledged her weakness. It was not that she was disinterested in machinery but rather she wanted to apply herself where she would excel the most and thus contribute the most. To Nine this particular hunk of metal, however, was just an extension of Nova herself. It may be an unconventional limb but she treated it no differently than if it had been flesh and bone. After tucking her book under her arm Nine grabbed for both of Nova's hands with both of hers before getting to her feet.

One leg had cramped after sitting for so long and she stood awkwardly and unbalanced, clearly favoring her left leg over her right. Was it a good idea to wander off with Nova? If they were not going to continue discussing the walnut oil it was likely that Nova would thoughtfully inquire about Nine's plan. Paranoia blossomed inside her chest and spread until it seized hold of both her heart and mind.

"Ah!" Nine startled, exclaiming loudly and in a bit of a panic. Brie's intrusion had given her a start for she had, for the millionth time, been lost in her thoughts. "It's nice to see you Brie. We were just... I was just..." Nine was floundering slightly, her eyes wide as if she was a deer in headlights. Suddenly she reached forward, taking one of the plates, remembering she had not eaten a damn thing during the entire party. With a nod of gratitude she began to quickly eat. In her brilliance Nine deduced that she couldn't answer any probing questions if she was shoveling food in her mouth. She wasn't about to abandon Nova and leave her to fend for herself with Brie around, but if the focus was on anything besides herself she would feel quite a bit better.

Ronan
Life.

 

[IctoraPost]

Winston stared at the bones, willing them to give him the answer to this complex matter. The bones refused to oblige. Of course, this was only because the bones were inanimate objects and not because they were completely unwilling. Maybe if the ghost of the boar were to suddenly appear, it would provide some clues as to what the carpenter should do. But no – the animal would be terribly angry at the people here for slaughtering it, roasting it over a fire, then ripping it to shreds and eating it with no regard for basic table manners. It might even decide to spread vengeance upon those still here using the ghostly powers that it must have obtained in death. But ghosts didn’t exist. They were just stories made up to frighten people. No need to be scared. Just had to dispose of theses bones as quickly as possible before the boar decided that he was the one who had to die…

The thump on the back caused Winston to let out a squeak and almost fling the pile at a passing pirate. Feeling something meaty slithering itself around his shoulders, the carpenter was about to give the assailant a faceful of rib, intangible ghostliness be damned, when he was pulled into a solid wall of flesh. Oh, it was just Emil, asking if he was scared of the bones. “Um. N-no. I just… No, I am not afraid of these, uh, these bones. They do not hold any power over me. They are just ordinary bones. Nothing to fear. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just natural, normal bones…” He nervously began moving the pile away from his body, before glancing up at the gunner to see if he’d noticed. The evil, flippant smirk-grin he saw was rather unsettling, to say the least. And that chuckle, seemingly unprovoked. What was so funny? Was he laughing at him? Winston anxiously looked around, trying to spot something worth being amused at.

Instead, he saw the surgeon sprinting straight at them, looking like some kind of avenging angel. The bones were swiped from his grasp before he had a chance to react, leading to him not being sure whether to let slip a yelp of surprise or a thanks of gratitude. Ah, so bones really were bad for dogs. That was one problem solved. “Oh, thank you, Brie. I was in quite a predicament there…” But she had already left. The carpenter turned to the next dilemma, silently wishing the cook had stayed to provide moral support. “So, Emil. I, um, I mean, er, what should we – I – what should… should I leave now? Most of the mess seems to have been cleaned… Or should I stay? Um.” He attempted to extract himself from the arm of his kind-of-but-not-really superior while acting as discreet as possible. Not working.

SentinelSevn