So the boat sides through the choppy dark waters towards a destination unknown. The sky overhead a smattering of pin-pricks of light occasionally blotted out by the fast moving clouds, however the moon hangs there big and pale as it ascends upon it's daily trip over the heavens. Not quite full yet, the moon has a slice slid off it but the shadow off the earth.
From the ship up ahead there's the faint sounds of upraised voices, then the lights guiding you goes out.
Kenneth does his best to keep an eye on the boat ahead and anticipate its direction and make sure that his group doesn't accidentally lose them... It's far tae easy tae follow that light, isnae it? I'm just waiting for them tae trade off with another light... or, worse, have us focus on the light and nae see that we're putting ourselves headfirst intae a noose..
Tangris, the scent of the sea and the wind rousing him, keeps a close eye on the ship they're following.
"Heh. This reminds me of a joke." Danny whispers to the others as they peer intently into the darkness, searching for the other boat.
"So this Navy captain was sailing his ship into port after a long tour of duty at sea. They were making their final approach to port in the middle of a moonless night. WHen the captain sees the light of another ship dead ahead, he orders his signalmen to send the message, 'Attention vessel, You are on a collision course with us. Adjust your course 4 degrees East'."
"The reply quickly comes back, 'Adjust your course 4 degrees West'. This infuriates the captain. who signals the reply, 'This is Captain John Smith of the NAvy. Adjust your course sir!' The reply comes back, 'This is midshipman Jones of the Navy. Adjust your course 4 degrees West'."
"Enraged, the Captain signals, 'This is a Battleship. We will not change our course!' The final reply comes back,..."
" 'This is a lighthouse. Your call.' "
From the edge for your senses, you can see the boat change tack - specifically to throw off any pursuers, whilst also confusing the sailors. However it does mean the navigator of the smell vessel knows where they're headed.
From the distance there's a soft green glow, small as if from a single light source ... or maybe a trio of lanterns.
The eerie green glow materialises into the fluorescent lights of another ship, this one is a yacht of some luxury. Pale and ethereal, the green hue gives it an unworldly appearance.
It bathes the chugging fishing vessel in it's glow, seemingly making it recoil and cower from the presence of the superior vessel.
"Ooo, fancy boat. Do you think Gilligan or the Skipper is on board?" Tangris murmurs.
Morien quirks an eyebrow at the sight awaiting them over the Mote's bow. "Both, I'd wager." She angles the sail slightly worse against the wind, slowing their approach. Wouldn't want to run into the vessels now drifting near one another.
However Morien manages to position the vessel in such a way as to get close enough to see aboard the other pair, to hide amongst the shadows whilst managing the choose the best illumination of their targets.
Thus from the grey and fluorescence, light slides across the slick leather of a long slowing duster whilst a figure emerges from the deck of the yacht. With a trio of purposeful strides out from the cabin door, the figure starts a graceful leap from he deck. An inhuman arc of at least 60 yards of intervening sea between the vessels, her long hair whipping with the billowing duster framing her lithe physique.
Shaking the fishing vessel, the woman lands with poise and inhuman grace - there seems to be an aura to her. Moments later, one figure lets out a loud yell and dives overboard. Upon the Whitby vessel there's a general commotion and the other illuminated luxury yacht comes about and starts moving away - having delivered its cargo.
Danny nods at the smaller vessel and purses his lips.
"Um,... That's not good. Is it?"
Morien gives a resigned sigh. "If his own crew doesn't collect him, we ought to. Or did you mean Herself over there?" That last with a touch of wry humor.
The aura from the figure upon the boat is palpable, in the dim illumination amidst the fog - you can just see the figure of Molly approach the inhuman leaper as their ship starts to move back towards the coastline of England. The fog and mist is palpable with a heavy emotion laden aura, that's both oppressive and invigorating.
Oppressive the unknown others' presence may be, but it may as well try to weight down the waves as inflict itself on Morien in her element. She attends to the Mote, deftly maneuvering her little craft out of the diesel-reeking boat's way, but keeps a weather eye on the figure as Molly approaches it.
Used to the mixture of magical pheromones and overbearing heat that radiates from the creature on the ships, seems not to over-come Tangris' nature. However it leaves Laura panting softly and affects Morien and Kenneth lightly.
Morien smirks faintly at Laura, all but invisible in the darkness. Finding her attention drawn back to the scene aboard the other boat despite herself, she studies the figure that might as well glow with presence.
Kenneth winces slightly as he feels something pushing on his emotions. Cannae say I liked that... But it seems tae have passed... Mostly.... I dinnae think I'll need tae shield us against... whatever that were...
Implying this is Poppy Court, and that whomever this is is really powerful.... definitely a challenge for Jade Dragon.
Danny leans back as the aura rolls over him and the others. He immediately starts re-humming his song from earlier, the old 3 stooges joke 'You can't see me, I've got my eyes closed!' running through his mind.
Danny mind is awash with images and sights and sounds, his merely hummed song almost a palpable presence to his fellows on the boat. He allows the aura to wash over him without settling. His own ego refusing to admit that anyone else can command that much stage presence. Without cheating.
"That'll be the unnamed 'third party' at Laurence's meeting, I bet. Wonder if Laverna knows." Morien hums along to Danny's reprise of the earlier tune as she brings the Mote around near to the swimming sailor, keeping enough distance that he won't get knocked against her hull or dragged around in her wake. He's making indifferent progress towards shore - ten or twenty miles away. "Kenneth, Tangris, one of you throw the poor sod a life preserver and reel him in."
Kenneth says, "I dinnae like this -- was expecting some easy drugs tae clean up instead ay a Poppy strong enow tae feel from back here... especially since they're supposed tae be a dying breed....", but then starts to look for a life preserver, as directed, while muttering, "I ought tae have blasted her mid-leap."
The dark scow slips away into the night, unsteadilly chugging it's way back to shore with Molly at the helm and the unnatural figure beside her.
Laura slips towards the hawsers and leans upon the rail there, trying to focus upon the horizon to get her bearings back. Her breathing just audible as she overcomes one of her first direct magical attack.
Floundering amongst the heavy waves, the swimmer in his heavy jacket and thick sea-going clothes barely notices the lifebelt that lands amongst the heavy waves nearby. However some natural instinct kicks in and an arm in the midst of his flailing catches hold on an edge. With a deathlock he wraps his arms around it.
"THAT was a 'Poppy Court'?!?" Danny hisses from between clenched teeth.
"I haven't felt a wave of power like that since the last time I attended a White Court party. And that was a few working their mojo at the same time." Danny shakes his head, then smiles at the memory.
"Yeah, they were,..." then he looks at Morien, and Laura, and to Tangris' bright-eyed attentiveness. Danny coughs and manages to almost look abashed.
"Yeah, well, never mind what they were doing,' he says to Tangris' obvious disappointment.
"The point is, I figure I felt the concentrated whammy of at least three Whites, who were trying to get a,... reaction. But I'm pretty sure that Poppy wasn't trying. HArdly." He adds, looking at the poor schmuck in the water clinging to the life preserver for dear,... life.
"They've got their own arcana, and that one's evidently loaded with it. Wish I could read Sanskrit, or whatever it is that shows on their human 'skin' if you kill 'em." Morien shakes her head in frustration.
When their new passenger is nearly aboard, she re-orients the Mote's sail to start chasing their prey again. "How about some hot air, Danny? It'd be interesting to see where the Poppy disembarks, but we'll need to catch up for that."
Kenneth says, "Aye. Well, if it makes ye feel any better, based on the aura, I'm thinking that was the Poppy Court, if ye ken what I mean. That's the aura ay an auld, powerful being... and one that's well fed and doesnae seem tae be affected by whatever affliction is plaguing the rest ay them..."
Kenneth pauses as his conscious mind starts hammering down his jumbled thoughts into something more linear, and he exclaims, "By Nuada's Severed Arm! This isnae about the drugs... 'tis about a cure... they're likely bringing out that one tae go back tae the original source -- tae try tae use the 'pure' strain tae cure the others."
Tangris grins. "No worries, Danny-me-boy! I'm sure when this one tries, it'll get interesting!"
Aboard the Mote, they haul the sodden sailor in. His teeth chattering with the freezing sea and overloaded sea-coat. Staring off into the distance with blood-shot eyes that seem to have the edge of bleeding tears, ragged breaths slip from his broad barrel chest.
Flopping on the shining decks of the Mote, the man appears non-compos-mentis looking into the mid-distance. In a low husky voice he repeats; 'The eyes, the eyes, beauty, horror, pale eyes.'
The Mote tries to clip after the chugging vessel, however despite the imperfect steering of the scow it starts to pull a lead to shore - the waves seem to turn against the Mote.
Morien looks at the sailor like a fisherman who'd baited their line for tuna but landed a refrigerator. "I was hoping he could tell us something useful. No such luck." She sighs. "I suppose we get him warm and dry, and hope he recovers. Humans get hypothermia way too easy."
However, she doesn't move from her position in the nook of the sail lines. Instead, she wrings the last possible Newton of force from the wind as the Mote struggles to oppose the falling tide.
"Oh I think he's talking just fine Morrie," Danny says distractedly as he leans over the shivering sailor. He manages not to wince at the glare of daggers Morien gives his back at his use of the cutsie nickname. They've had THAT talk before. Once.
"Come on now fella, it's not that bad. Why I knew this girl once, her voice could flay you alive from 10 paces. And that was when she was happy!" Danny tells the guy as he rubs his chest, trying to help him warm up. Danny hums a few bars, then sings lightly. It is a rollicking happy tune, similar to the sea ballad he sung earlier, but evoking images of huddling around a roaring bonfire on a beach.
Sal huddles in her chair, hands clamped around hot tea for warmth, and strains to see out the window onto the dark waters. Frustrated, she sighs and leans in to speak quietly to her companion.
Morien takes the boat, cutting across the dark waves of the sea. In the chugging distance is the boat, it puffs back towards shore. After a while it turns towards the bright lights of Whitby, where it seems like it's going to dock.
The aura given off by the Poppy Court vampire upon the vessel has been suppressed - to such an extent they'll only be a minor 'pheromone' wake at her passing.
Whilst the man in the boat starts to recover thanks to Danny's kindness and magic, however he stays seated and is still groggy.
Danny turns to the others,
"Well, is it just me or did this whole party just go sideways?" He asks with a grin.
"And here I had my heart set on scaring some misled low-level delivery boys back onto the straight and narrow. Somehow I don't think the 'Shame on You' songs I had in mind will have much effect on THAT." He nods towards the chugging craft.
"So, um,... NOW what do we do?"
Kenneth chuckles, "Aye, and I cannae say I much like the cargo we've discovered. 'Tis far less likely tae let us cast it intae a fire and be done with it."
Tangris shakes his head. "So who is this dude that they enjoy throwing overboard so much?"
Kenneth chuckles, "Aye, and I cannae say I much like the cargo we've discovered. 'Tis far less likely tae let us cast it intae a fire and be done with it."
"Yeah. Inconsiderate cargo." Danny gives the distant, noisy boat the universal single-digit salute.
Tangris shakes his head. "So who is this dude that they enjoy throwing overboard so much?"
Danny looks at the still-shivering man thoughtfully.
"I'm not so sure that was a 'throw overboard' as much as a 'throw himself overboard'. Whether it was a desperate attempt to save himself from what he saw, or the Jade ordered him to do it,... I dunno. And HE'S not going to be tellin' us much for a little bit I'm afraid." He shakes his head sadly.
Kenneth says, "Aye, either one is as likely as t'other... Sadly, I think this is generally a bad situation.. Unless, a'course, Moiren's got a few torpedoes that I dinnae see?"
The selkie barks a laugh. "I wish. Munitions are Sal's department." A pause. "Hope she's having a quieter time of it."
The man gasps quietly, his pale still devoid of blood - sapped away by the freezing water. "That woman, so fearsome - I had to leave. Ken knows when to fold 'em." he says softly in a slurred voice.
Danny awkwardly pats the man's shoulder.
"No shame there mate. Many a man's been put to running by a woman." He says sympathetically.
"Or a jealous husband. Father. Whatever." He adds innocently.
As the Mote drifts into port after the chugging vessel - keeping out of reach of the perception of Molly's patron. The mists of Danny gently slip away from the hull, whilst the sea-faring ship enters the port.
Looking amongst the ships, you can feel the last wispy miasma of the Poppy Court vampire and see the fishing/tourist boat badly moored amongst a few similar ships.
"Thank me giddy aunt, tha' I back to land. Oh there's t' boat - tho' I think I'll keep me self t' me self."he slurs slightly, the effect of his heavy drinking obvious. Mayhaps another effect may have been to dull his mind so that his mind did take the full psychic brunt of the Vampire's presence. His hand vaguely points to the docked form of the chugging vessel.
Kenneth nods, "Aye, you're safe enow, though ye'd best lay low for a mite... and come up with a story about how ye fell off your boat drunk and then floated in on a piece of driftwood... and how lucky you were that your charter brought the thing back... ye ken?"
"Yeah, think I'll get t' bed and sleep it off." he stutters. "I think it was all a bad dream." He starts to shakily get up and moves to the gang-plank.
Laura turns to the rest of the crew; "Does this frequently happen?" she wonders.
Danny flops an arm over Ken's broad shoulders, having to reach more than a little to do so, and grins.
"Well,... When you have TWO handsome, charming, silver-tongued devils like us around,... Yep. Pretty much." He nods, looking at Ken for confirmation.
Tangris grins. "Aww, it's sweet when you think I'm charming and handsome enough for two people! I mean, don't sell yourself short, Danny. You'll come into your charm one of these days, I'm sure."