Ming grunts frustrated as her attack goes wide, but she knows she's not the best fist fighter out there. She has other advantages nobody knows about. Looking over her shoulder she sees the ugly dwarf on the floor, what relieves her.
She gives a nod to Joran, then repeats the call:
On deck, quickly now! Leave those fools!
She smiles at the woman as she tumbles out of her reach.
Come on, wanna take this upstairs?
Then she climbs the stairs, passing Destinie and Terry.
To the main deck, come on!
Joran finds himself disappointed the dwarf fell so fast. "Too bad. I thought that was a pretty good line too. Even you would've appreciated it, dwarf guy."
Regardless of whether or not she was able to lift the woman's feet off of her, she signaled Joran over with a wave as she climbed to the top of the stairs.
Looking up to see who's left, Joran catches sight of Destinie and throws a nod her way. "Right behind you!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joran knocks Tam out cold, too, releasing some of the pent of frustrations of the last two days on the bullies.
With the bald man and Tam both down, the remaining bullies backed down. Syl looked disappointed to do so, and she was grinning at Joran in a way that gave him the creeps, but it seemed the fight was done. Now, to get up on deck before your tardiness was noted...
Seeing the rest of them stand down, Joran takes a curious note of the look the psycho's giving him. He nearly goes into 'automatic mode' and responds with a flirtatious smile but just manages to catch himself. Whew! Man that was close. I'd have to be nuts to even THINK about somebody as crazy as that chick. He then takes off for the upper deck. As he does, though, he can't help but take one last curious glance at Syl - not really understanding why - before shaking himself free of such mental insanity. Hello! Idiot! She's a freak! And creepy! You know she'd just as soon stab in your sleep. Or in your awake. Doesn't matter, he reasons with himself, nodding. ALTHOUGH..., the barbarian starts but instantly shakes his head with gusto to get that thought out of there, not daring to finish that one as he double times it to where he's suppose to be.
Though the fight felt like it lasted a while, it was, in fact, over and done with in seconds, not minutes. The lot of you -- and those who were fighting you mere moments ago -- file up on deck and find, to your relief, the delay was not noticed.
Well...mostly not noticed. Scourge is glaring hard at the fact that Joran is still standing, and frowns deeply when he does not see Tam or the other unconscious man amidst the rest.
Plugg and Scourge bark out the orders for the day.
All three of the riggers -- Terry, Ming, and Rand -- are given mainsail duties. Conchobar is happy to show you the ropes, literally, and explain how the work is done, should you be unfamiliar. The Rahadoumi man sends an occasional glare from the crow's nest, where he serves watch today. A few times, you catch Syl peering in your direction. But they do not go out of their way to cause any more trouble.
Joran and Seadreamer are given swab duty -- handed a pair of mops and ordered to swab the deck. It's backbreaking work, mopping the decks and scrubbing them with sandstone blocks called holystones.
Cass, Katara, and Des are set to hauling rope and preparing it with knots.
Ropes. Again.
Already tired from nearly best up by goons, all she wanted to do was get her work done and not get into any more trouble. And she wasn't above asking for Sandara to help her out either
The good news was that she had the process memorized by now to the point that she didn't need any help with it. The bad news will come later.
It did give her time to talk to others, starting with Cass and Katara. "What was that language you were speaking?" she asked. "Usually when I'm like that I can't understand a thing."
Joran catches sight of Scourge's reaction, studying him a moment through narrowed eyes. Not looking good...
Joran goes hard at work. At one time when he finds himself near Seadreamer, he continues to work but glances around a moment to make sure no one is looking his way directly...
The Garundi works well enough, but still tries to make some time on her day to chat with the others - and hopefully go see the quartermaster at some point.
When the oracle speaks, she is quick to respond - looking around to make sure no one else would be sticking their ears on the conversation.
That was Aquan, mate... - says Katara, giving Destinie a smile - I'm sure tha' given enough time, we can teach 'ya. It seems tah' be a good option for us here.
She pauses for a moment to breath - while she's hurt, she doesn't feel it's anything that would kill her, and wasn't her first rodeo being roughened up. Yet, the pain is still there when she swabs around, as well as her filling hatred for the faces she well recorded in her mind.
What was that about? - she finally speaks towards Cassandra and Destinie - I mean... They said what it was about. They wanted tah' give the big loud guy their welcome. He does speak too much, 'aye guess, but why would they round us up with him baffles me. We gotta stick together, but this association is starting tah' feel a bit painful!
She's sincere as she speaks, stopping with a silent "ouch" as she bends her back while working.
"Mainsail, aye!" Terry accepts the assignment and moves to get to work.
As the day goes on, he tries to talking with Samms. "Hey, Samms! Just kinda curious. What do you think of that Tian woman? She seem right to you?"
Atia smiles weakly back at Grok and inclines her head graciously. The adrenaline from the fight had begun to wear off and the pain in her jaw started throbbing, but she would need to steel herself to pain eventually, so she tried to ignore it. "Thank you, Grok. I appreciate your help and advice." She looks around the kitchen and grimaces, cringing at the state of things, especially the free-roaming animals. Atia rolls her sleeves up and gets to work with breakfast.
She inspects her work after the morning meal was made and the evening's mise-en-place was finished. She had tried adding some flavor to the hard-tack, just a tad bit of herbs and spices from the rack in the kitchen, and felt that it turned out decently enough, nibbling on a corner of it before loading up the breakfast and heading out to deliver to everyone.
---
Atia tried to get through food delivery relatively quickly, anxious to avoid any of the people who had jumped them before. She had no plans to go out of her way to feed those thugs--if they were not around, they did not get fed. Or she'd leave the hard-tack somewhere inconvenient; easy to get wet or pilfered by any opportunists.
She did, however, want to check on her fellows who got jumped alongside her.
Cass starts her work off quickly hoping that she'll be able to do a bit better than the previous day and thankful to be doing something a bit cleaner.
"Yeah, Aquan" She joins Katara in saying "Its the only language that can be spoken underwater, my folks taught it to me."
In reply to Katara's question she says "Well, it looked like it might have been Scourge and if it was he probably is trying to intimidate all the newcomers but make a special example of his "quarry" so to speak"
she then will seek out the blonde halfling with a blind eye above jack in the list and try to make some conversation
"Morning, How long have you been on here? any recommendations to keep myself from turning out like that grizzly sight yesterday?"
"Aquan huh," she blinks. "I always thought I was just speaking gibberish. I'd like to test that out when we have the time." She hesitated before deciding an explanation was needed. "It usually happens whenever I'm in a fight. I get... more bold. My memory gets fuzzy too."
When Katara talked about the mugging, she responded in hushed tones. "It's just as much about beating him down as much as it is about convincing us to curry favors from them... in their own twisted way. I bet they thought we'd be crawling to their feet for protection the moment they saw the biggest man fall."
She looked over towards Joran for a moment before continuing. "He's a piece of work, but that's nothing compared to those crazy people. I wouldn't join even if I planned on being a pirate. At least I don't think we have to worry about them jumping us again... at least together. We already showed we're tougher than we look." She gave out a weary smile as she checked her face for scars.
She also turned towards Cass. "Well that's one card hat ended up coming true. Scourge already wants to have us beat to a pulp."
Sandara worked cheerfully alongside Des, Katara, and Cass, helping lug the ropes where they needed to go while you other three sat tying and untying the knots as needed and discussing events.
Cass makes conversation with the blonde gnome girl as she walks past, and the small woman jumps in startlement for a moment. "Oh! Are you talking to me? You are. Hi." She looks around nervously, but no one else is around. "They got me a couple weeks ago," she said quietly, in a voice that was somehow both nervous and perky at the same time. "Is it true you guys got jumped today? That's what everyone is saying. I'm sorry that happened to you, it must have been awful. I think they're coming down on you all so hard because you're such a big group that if you all resisted it'd be a pain to deal with you. I was the only one when I was brought aboard, and I definitely got picked on about whether I'd be able to do any useful work, small as I am, but turns out I'm really fast when I'm terrified, and I've been living in a constant state of perpetual terror since coming aboard, so I make a really good runner and they have me deliver messages around the ship, and so far I've done a good job at it and haven't been the star of the bloody hour, which, by the way, I find absolutely barbaric, and I'm talking too much, aren't I? I do that when I'm nervous, I'm sorry." She finally paused for air. "Oh! My name is Tiffer, by the way. Tiffer Gibbs. I'm glad you're here, since the mean ones are all way too focused on you guys to bully me anymore. I mean! I don't mean I'm glad they're bullying you! I'm shutting up now."
Katara excuses herself for a moment as if to relieve herself, but makes her way to the galley and the quartermaster's store. She sees Atia working her arse off, searching for ingredients, adding them to a huge pot of stew, and tasting it to see if it's any good. It was better than Kroop's for sure, but nothing to write home about. Katara walks over to the door of the storeroom, which has a three foot by three foot window open in the door, like a store counter. Peering through the opening, she sees Grok inside the cramped, packed room, perched atop a barrel. The room is filled with boxes, trunks, lockers, and crates with a variety of goods available. Grok looked up and smiled. "Morning. I happen to know you were relieved of your possessions when you were brought aboard, so if you came here with something to trade me already, color me impressed."
Joran is working hard on deck and doing his best to avoid a repeat of the night before. He didn't want anyone getting whipped just to spite him, and he's worried about the fallout from the fight. He does note that about half an hour passes before the bald man and Tam stagger onto the deck, and Scourge does not look very happy to see them.
Samms was sitting atop the mainsail support, bare feet dangling without a worry, clearly confident in her balance up this high. She looked up as Terry spoke, and glanced over at Ming. "First impression left a bit ta be desired. Don't think she's crazy or nothin'. Just has a really big mouth her foot went and got lodged in." She didn't seem to hold a grudge any longer, and was not glaring daggers at Ming or anything. She looked back to Terry. "You really from Quent?" she asked. She was eyeing him in a way he'd seen before, and he hazarded a guess this woman knew of a certain High Captain, and was making assumptions that many before had made as well.
Noticing the exchange, Joran waits for the right moment to speak to Baldy.
If the situation presents itself: Probably going to regret this, but, here goes nothing. "Psst! Hey! Baldy! Look, buddy, I know you did what you're ordered to do. I don't hold it against you. You'd thought we'd be easy pickings, I get it. And odds are it probably won't be the last time you come after us. My question to you is: What happens if you fail again? You think Scourge is gonna be pleased about you failing twice? You could very well end up like Jake. And we all saw what happened to Jake," he reminds him, trying to instill a bit of fear into him as he stares him dead the eye with nary an expression. "Think about it, hero." Joran then returns back to work, letting that linger for the man to try and figure it out for himself... if he can.
Samms was sitting atop the mainsail support, bare feet dangling without a worry, clearly confident in her balance up this high. She looked up as Terry spoke, and glanced over at Ming. "First impression left a bit ta be desired. Don't think she's crazy or nothin'. Just has a really big mouth her foot went and got lodged in." She didn't seem to hold a grudge any longer, and was not glaring daggers at Ming or anything. She looked back to Terry. "You really from Quent?" she asked. She was eyeing him in a way he'd seen before, and he hazarded a guess this woman knew of a certain High Captain, and was making assumptions that many before had made as well.
Terry smiles at her as she asks the question. "Of course I am! Had basically free run of the place until I hopped a ship and started sailing myself." He'll happily discuss same of the typical sailor haunts in Quent, and the significant changes a couple of them have seen over the past decade, if that's where she would like to take the conversation.
Looking out for the ugly dwarf and trying to gain Samms favor, Ming tried to give everything, which let her end up pretty exhausted at the end of the day.
Hey Samms, am i doing better today? Look, i'm really sorry about yesterday. Been hit on the head pretty hard, that left some traces. I'm just trying to find my place here.
Where's your other friend? Saw im down below this morning, must have bumped his head. Didn't seem to be in a good mood. You think we have to worry for him?
Overhearing Terry she bit her lips. Of course, a half-elf playing the Tian card.
Waiting for a moment when she was close to him, she mimicked his face with her inborn abilities, then called him up.
Ho there Terry, how you doin'? Any thoughts on that young half-elf? He seems right to you?
Looking at Ming, Terry would be looking into his own face for a moment, just to look at Ming again a blink later.
What's wrong? You alright? Flirting up Samms?
And he will see a big smile on Mings lips.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Destinue decided to help Sandara carry some of the rope they pulled.
Big mistake. Between the fight and the additional labor, the oracle was a tired, sweaty mess with tangled hair. Yet she felt inclined to tell her side of the story in the meantime.
"Truth be told it wasn't as bad as it seemed," she clarified as she huffed her way with another coil of rope. [/B]"They probably thought we were easy, scared marks, but Joran knocked out two of 'em cold. Oh and this?"[/B] She pointed to her face after she dropped her load. "That was Sly. Almost clawed my eye out. You're right about her being a psychopath."
Joran and Seadreamer are given swab duty -- handed a pair of mops and ordered to swab the deck. It's backbreaking work, mopping the decks and scrubbing them with sandstone blocks called holystones.
Katara excuses herself for a moment as if to relieve herself, but makes her way to the galley and the quartermaster's store. She sees Atia working her arse off, searching for ingredients, adding them to a huge pot of stew, and tasting it to see if it's any good. It was better than Kroop's for sure, but nothing to write home about. Katara walks over to the door of the storeroom, which has a three foot by three foot window open in the door, like a store counter. Peering through the opening, she sees Grok inside the cramped, packed room, perched atop a barrel. The room is filled with boxes, trunks, lockers, and crates with a variety of goods available. Grok looked up and smiled. "Morning. I happen to know you were relieved of your possessions when you were brought aboard, so if you came here with something to trade me already, color me impressed." Yes, -2 to the check.
As she walks, Katara gives Atia a brief smile, trying to encourage her companion to thrive. She's brief, though, as quickly she gets to the quartermaster and is greeted.
Howdy... - Katara responds, shy between her teeth - Well, t'would be hard for me tah' have something to trade when all my belongings were taken, right?
Katara is way too paranoid to trust anyone; she likes her skin too much. She just plain states the truth, before following.
Anyway, good morning fah' you too... My name is Katara. - she takes the time to introduce herself - I... I don't want to take much of your time. I can only imagine how busy ya' might be! To be trusted the stores on a ship surrounded by violent, strong individuals, ya' gotta be stronger than most.
The Garundi pauses briefly, tactfully analyzing Grok's size, features, and weaponry.
Well, not all of us can be like that... - she gives a smirk, showing some of the bruises from earlier - ... And yet, I... Look, 'aye don't want to hurt anybody. Keep me' weapons, if you may. I just need some protection... Maybe just me' armor. And I'll repay on tha' first chance...
Joran grins wryly at Seadreamer, giving a subtle nod to him.
Atia smiles slightly at Katara as she leaves the galley to go deliver food, nodding at the other woman. She hurries up to the main deck to hand out the daily rations.
She approaches Joran and Seadreamer first, holding out the slightly spiced and herbed hardtack to them. "Are you two alright?" She asks, quietly, brows furrowed with concern.
As Ming tries to get his goat, Terry jerks, frowns, and then just shakes his head. He finally responds as she takes the parting shot. "Kinda the goal, right? Make friends."
He then looks over to Samms and shrugs.
She approaches Joran and Seadreamer first, holding out the slightly spiced and herbed hardtack to them. "Are you two alright?" She asks, quietly, brows furrowed with concern.
Turning from his work and looking to the wizard, he smiles and accepts the offering. Nodding, "Thanks, Atia, I appreciate the food. And yeah, I'm good. But thanks for asking!" he responds cheerfully, as if he's never been asked that before, grinning. He then takes a normal bite of the food and stows the rest of it in his britches for later, seeing how that's still the only article of clothing he possesses. He then smiles and nods once again at her before returning to work.
The bald man was sore, and his pride was as hurt as his flesh. Joran could tell the thug wanted to hit him, but Joran's words rang true enough that he bit his tongue and just glared at him before walking away. Joran and Seadreamer spend the day doing backbreaking work, but both are in fine shape and make the deck spic and span, keeping their heads down.
Terry learns that Samms spent a fair bit of time serving on a vessel in Captain Fairwind's fleet. She was not personally acquainted, but she clearly brings the topic up while judging his reaction, among other similar probing questions. Ming tries her luck patching things up with the woman, but Samms still just blinks in confusion at her. "Hit your head. Right." Terry notices Samms roll her eyes, still unenthused with Ming, but at least she doesn't leave. Ming does a fair job hoisting the sails throughout the day, but finds herself wearing out, and is sore and tired by shift's end.
Sandara winced at Des's eye. "I know you said you can manage, but want a little help healing that? Yeah, word is she was a serial killer and the law nearly caught up with her, so she took to the sea. Most folks on this ship have killed, but she revels in causing pain and misery. Hope she falls overboard one day."
Grok grins as Katara compliments her strength. "Yeah, well, I don't know how much the Captain trusts me. Don't think he really trusts anyone. Checks my stock weekly, against my records and gold. If something went missing, and I didn't report it, he'd have my hide. And if I did report it, he'd search high and low, find the thief, and, well, you met Jake. Briefly." She saw Katara's disappointment, and continued, with an air of mock supposition to her voice as she tapped her chin. "Course, there's plenty of things on this ship just lying around that would make fair trade. Just sitting in certain footlockers, unguarded at night. Stealing from my store'll get folk killed, but stealing from other crew? Well, we are pirates. And most won't admit being victimized. Makes 'em look weak." She winked.
The day wears on, and the work is so tedious and tiring that time stretches and squeezes in weird ways, sometime feeling interminable, other times lulling you into a trance that makes the time slip away unnoticed. The bell rings signaling the end of work, and the beginning of the bloody hour.
There is an undercurrent of worry throughout much of the crew. Everyone knows of the fight by this point, and whispers spread of Scourge and Plugg wearing their arms off with the number of folks due a whipping.
The Captain makes his way onto the deck, his two henchmen flanking him. "This morning was very exciting for some of you," Harrigan's voice boomed. "I prefer my mornings to be quiet. Uneventful." There was silence among the crew as he paused and pointedly looked at each member or either side of the morning's fight.
After a long enough pause for awkwardness and worry to sink their teeth in deeply, he spoke again. "Master Scourge. Have you determined who started the little spat this morning?
Scourge grinned at Joran and nodded to the Captain. "I have. The big sunuvab&%&% there. He attacked two of my men, knocking them out cold."
Harrigan looked at Joran. Stared at him hard. "Which two men, Master Scourge?" The tone of his question showed he knew the answer already.
"Tam and Fipps, Captain."
Harrigan wagged two fingers, indicating the two should step forward. They did so, and Fipps, the bald man, opened his mouth to accuse Joran. The Captain interrupted.
"I expect my crew to hold their own in a fight, gentlemen. And a single green recruit lays both of you low?" He tsked. "Shameful." He looked to Plugg. "Three lashes for each of them. Should they relapse into unconsciousness, wake them before continuing."
Scourge wanted badly to protest, and the strangled look on his face was an overdue reward for some of you. The two men who'd led the assault against you this morning were lashed to the mast, and they bore their punishment, remaining on their feet, to their credit. Clearly they'd been the recipients of some healing since the morning.
"Now then, Master Scourge. Take their place. I think it'll be five with the cat for you." The Captain turned to stare at the man.
"What?! Captain, I--"
"I don't care for being lied to. You think there were no witnesses? That I wouldn't know about every last incident that comes to pass on my ship?"
Scourge allowed Plugg to shove him towards the mast and secure his wrists, removing his coat. The whip they used on Rosie, Tam, and Fipps was a single stranded one. It left bruises and welts, and occasionally broke skin if used too harshly. A cat o'nine tales was a different beast. The knots at the ends, bordered by metal beads, tore flesh and striped backs.
Plugg and Scourge were allies, but that did not hold the first mate back. Plugg sneered as he went to work, eager, in that moment, to distance himself from blame. The Captain stayed to watch until the lashes were complete and Scourge's back was covered in blood. He again looked around at his crew. "No one on my ship is above my rules. But know this. We have a repeat of today, and every single person involved is going to look like that, or worse. I will have order on this vessel."
And with that, he left, and the bloody hour was done.
Poker faces are always cool, Ming knows that, but seeing at least some of those who tried to knock them out this morning as well as their obvious patron getting the whip casts a wide and joyous grin on her face.
One she can't hide.
Right until the Captain mentioned everyone involved getting the whip and a bloody back.
That's not fair! I've not been involved! That half-orc barely hit me and i didn't hit anyone. Even though i honestly tried. Can't be blamed though, when they bloody can't stay still to take an honest hit. And my back is far too delicate for such a treatment. What if i get scars?
The grin on her face vanished and became a scowl instead.
They're gonna pay for this. With their stuff. Once i got some sleep. Yeah. First i need some sleep.
She yawns.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Terry
Mhm, kind of a goal, making some friends, besides staying alive, not getting beaten up, whipped, flayed or keelhauled. Might help in that regard. Tried to talk to that one yesterday and the dwarf, they sit on a high horse though.
Joran keeps his focus straight ahead, owning a nonchalant demeanor. He does happen to feel the captain's hard stare burn right through him though. Just keep staring, buddy. I want you to remember this face. Someday...
Joran doesn't watch the lashing of any of them. Not Fipps, not Tam, not even Scourge. He just keeps his focus straight ahead out towards the vast horizon with nary an expression upon his face. Someday...
Katara sits down with the others after the bloody hour. She's still quite bruised, but the young Garundi looks more absorbed on her thoughts than the usual - actually, she's thinking about what the quartermaster told her; and, at the same time, wondering if she'd become an unlikely ally. It seems the kineticist had already gotten some clues on the things that may appeal to the half-Orc, and she plans on how to make the friendship even more fruitful.
"I don't know. I heard some pirates appreciate scars." she joked. But her smile faded a bit as she continued, but she nodded in order to let the cleric tend to her wound. "In all honesty, I don't want others to feel like I'm getting let off easy. That I don't belong on this ship as a pirate. There's no fooling Scourge or Plugg about that. Two days in and I'm already worn out," she admitted.
---------------------------
During bloody hour, she tried her best to keep things cordial as the punishments were rolled out. But there was a small hint of a smile on her face as Scourge himself was whipped for his own actions. It made a fatiguing job worthy the efforts.
---------------------------
Night actions
The rum rations continued to improve her mood (and it didn't feel like her throat was on fire). Despite her exhaustion, she decided to continue befriending the cast, starting with the one Ming called Samms.
[OOC]Oof. I think Enhanced Diplomacy would have bumped it enough to influence her.
"If you don't mind, I was wondering why you do your job barefoot."
Cass chuckles lightly to herself at Tiffer's frenzy of explanations before replying "Don't worry Tiffer, you don't have to be nervous and certainly won't have to watch your tongue around me." She then extender her hand "I'm Cass"
at the Bloody Hour Cass keeps her eyes diverted from the spectacle. She takes some comfort in the knowledge that Scourge is unlikely to try attacking them again but not in his direct suffering
she drinks her rum ration when it comes not trusting herself to be able to hide it.
She then goes around to find those who were injured in the fight earlier and offers Joran a bit of healing
"Hey, I don't think I'm gonna have any more use for my magic tonight, I can try to heal some of your bruises from earlier if you'd like."
she then goes off to find Tiffer again
in quite slurred speech she says "So what do y'all do to keep busy after the work is done for the day?" she says as she sits at a table "Seems like the only thing the pack I got brought in with is good at is getting jumped."
Ming is so tired she goes straight to bunk.
She also gets rid of her rum.
Bloody hour surprises Terry tonight. A glimmer of hope about the Captain, or just a sign of how little he puts up with? More likely the second, sadly. Still not good odds, but probably our best chance to build an in with either of those two will be while the whip for following orders is fresh in their minds . . ..
Once they are handed their rum rations, Terry seeks Cas. "Thank you, for the healing. Your . . . method caught me by surprise. I'll try to keep a more open mind."
Then, putting thought to action, Terry takes a gamble and tries to extend an olive branch to the most recent enemy. "You were done wrong. We all know you were under orders, and if anybody didn't, they do now. We can look past what happened, and consider all the things we could accomplish together. There's an awful lot of wealth in this world to take, after all, and so much more easily claimed by a crew that works together, am I right?'
She then goes around to find those who were injured in the fight earlier and offers Joran a bit of healing
"Hey, I don't think I'm gonna have any more use for my magic tonight, I can try to heal some of your bruises from earlier if you'd like."
Looking down at his left side and noticing some bruising, Joran looks back to Cass, "Hey thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll be alright. Be a bit sore in the morning but shouldn't be much more than that. Go ahead and give it to someone who needs it more than me. I think a couple of the others got cut up pretty good. And if I'm not mistaken they surrounded Quent and got him pretty good too. Might want to check up on him first. Again though, thanks," he nods, giving a slight raise of his mug to her as she takes her leave.
Downing the rest of it, he rises to leave but not before looking over and seeing the half-elf speaking to Fipps. Hopefully he can convince him to wise up while he still breathes. None of them will last long at this rate. They keep doing Scourge's dirty work and failing, it won't be long before they'll all be with Jake. C'mon, Fipps, don't be stupid.
Before heading out, the big guy takes a moment to speak a passing word to Tam. "Hey, Tam," Joran directs the dwarf's attention toward the deep bruise along his ribcage, "Nice shot," before nodding and continuing on.
But instead of heading straight for his quarters, Joran ponders another route...
Moving about, Joran looks for the psychotic woman. Once he manages to catch sight of her and she of him, he pulls out his hardtack - that he saved from earlier - takes a bite of it and smiles, raising the hardtack in a 'toast-like' manner. Moving up near her, but not too near for safety reasons, he studies her a moment before, "I understand you, Syl, I do. More than you'll ever know. And I am sorry you've been through what you've been through." He then steps forward and sets the rest of the hardtack down next to her, gives her a two-fingered salute and a friendly nod before taking his leave and turning in.
During the bloody hour, Atia watches each lashing carefully through narrowed eyes. She didn't take pleasure in the lashings, but she also didn't feel too bad about the whole situation. It pulled at a dark area in her mind and caused a twisting feeling in her chest, one she couldn't decide was fear, excitement, or both. She decided to tuck that thought away for further exploration later.
---
Atia sits with her bowl more or less by herself, still nursing the bruise on her cheek, although the pain had more or less subsided. It only bothered her when she opened her mouth wide, which was not something she did often anyway. She glances around the hold where they were taking their dinner, gauging faces and watching people. Hopefully, dinner tasted better tonight than it did the night before.
After her rum ration is consumed, Atia is smiling and her cheeks burn with drink and warmth. She lets her hair down from the tight ponytail she usually wore, shaking out the long, blonde strands at the great relief of her scalp.
If no one approaches her specifically, she will set off to the galley under the pretense of cleaning up to see if she can find out where the rum rations are stored and how she might go about watering them down.
The woman who served as Harrigan's cabin girl, with the short hair and the eye patch, came by the galley for the officers' meals again, taste testing the food. Atia hoped it would suffice. She'd made a thick, meaty stew with some of the provisions the ship had taken on in Port Peril, and supplemented the officers' suppers with some day-old bread and butter and fresh greens, while they lasted.
Atia passed out the bowls of stew while grok handed out rum rations. It was decent, better than yesterday's meal had been.
Katara scopes out the crew lockers while folks are leaving the bloody hour and finding their way to a bowl of stew. She makes a mental note of whose is whose, and bides her time until the area is empty. She knows she'll have to be quick, folks wander in and out during the evening and someone could walk in and see her any moment, so she just picks one -- Fipps' is on the end so she goes for his. She helps herself to a coin pouch with that he left locked up in there.
Samms glances up at Des, brushing her hair back from her face. "'Zat how you start all your conversations?" she asked. She seemed more bemused than annoyed. "Don't know why I'd expect pirates to have decent social skills. Still, you don't look much like one." She finished her stew and dropped the spoon in the wooden bowl, leaning back against the rail. "The way you look, I half expect you to call me a peasant or ask me to shine your shoes."
Atia sits with her bowl more or less by herself, still nursing the bruise on her cheek, although the pain had more or less subsided. It only bothered her when she opened her mouth wide, which was not something she did often anyway. She glances around the hold where they were taking their dinner, gauging faces and watching people. Hopefully, dinner tasted better tonight than it did the night before.
After her rum ration is consumed, Atia is smiling and her cheeks burn with drink and warmth. She lets her hair down from the tight ponytail she usually wore, shaking out the long, blonde strands at the great relief of her scalp.
If no one approaches her specifically, she will set off to the galley under the pretense of cleaning up to see if she can find out where the rum rations are stored and how she might go about watering them down.
Just before leaving, Joran catches sight of the wizard looking a bit worn. Chewing on the inside of his lip as he glances around, he decides to walk over there and check on her. "You okay, Aita? That's a nasty bruise you got there. Mind if I take a look?" he asks. If she doesn't object, he carefully and gently - which may come as a surprise to her considering the man's physique - places a hand under her chin and examines the bruise. "Yeah you got walloped pretty good." Removing his hand, "You might want to see Cass about that. I think she's got a bit of healing left." He then looks around a moment before leaning in, "Hey, if we ever get in a scrum like that again, don't be afraid to use me as a shield. It'll at least take a couple of hits or three before I go down. After that, though, I won't be much good," he winks, grinning wryly. Leaning back out, "And if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I'll do what I can to help. Doesn't matter what it is," he tells her, giving a friendly nod and a grin. Barring any response, Joran turns and takes his leave.
Tiffer smiled at Cass. She was wedged between two crates, with her back to a wall as she ate. ”Oh! You’re talking to me again! I must not have scared you off before, then! What do people do? I’m not really sure. I try to avoid people mostly. They aren’t very nice to me, as a rule. I mean I can’t really blame them, this is a very physical job and I’m really more of an intellectual person, and people really don’t like when you make them feel stupid. So what I do is mostly, hide. This spot was working pretty well for me, I thought, but you found me, so I might need to find a new one. Oh! Not to hide from you, not like, I want to hide from you so you’ll leave me alone, just to…I’m doing it again. Sorry.” She clamped her mouth shut and handed Cass what she was working on – a schematic she was drawing for some sort of complicated-looking ballista device.
Fipps glares at Terry as he approaches and hears the half elf out. ”Look I get what you’re trying to do here. But Scourge and I go way back. You and I, we ain’t friends. Ain’t never gonna be.” He paused. ”That said, I’m inclined to let him fight his own feuds from now on, if they’re the petty sort. So you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone. Now piss off.”
Tam spits to the side as Joran compliments his punch. ”Mint.” he quipped sarcastically. Whatever that meant.
After Joran spoke with Syl and turned away, he felt the biscuit hit him in the back of the head, and heard her now-familiar unhinged giggle. ”Oh well, that makes all the difference...and now we can be the best of friends” she mocked. Her features hardened dangerously. ”You understand nothing. You feel sorry for me?” She strode toward him, and he worried for a moment he was about to be shanked. Instead, she continued past him, shoulder checking him, and making a point to step on the biscuit as she passed. Once she was a few feet away she turned back, all creepy smiles again. ”I look forward to gutting you.” She waggled her fingers in a little wave and left.
Atia saw Grok putting the extra rum back in her store, and locking it up. Watering it down was going to take a fair bit of stealth, and would mean taking a fair bit of risk. Still, something to file away for later.
After Joran spoke with Syl and turned away, he felt the biscuit hit him in the back of the head, and heard her now-familiar unhinged giggle. ”Oh well, that makes all the difference...and now we can be the best of friends” she mocked. Her features hardened dangerously. ”You understand nothing. You feel sorry for me?” She strode toward him, and he worried for a moment he was about to be shanked. Instead, she continued past him, shoulder checking him, and making a point to step on the biscuit as she passed. Once she was a few feet away she turned back, all creepy smiles again. ”I look forward to gutting you.” She waggled her fingers in a little wave and left.
Shaking his head as she walks away, "I'm sure you do, darlin', I'm sure you do." She's just far too gone... just like Naomi. Not sure how she's survived this long. He then looks down at the hardtack a moment before picking it up and inspecting it. Shrugging, "Beggars can't be choosers," he admits, taking a bite as he heads to his quarters.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Atia smiles at Joran's approach and nods at him. "I'm alright. Hurts a little." She allows him to touch her face, feeling her cheeks flush as he examines her.
Whatever advice he had given her went through one ear and out the other--Atia found herself quite flustered and suddenly overcome with a desire to stare at the floor so as not to give away her nerves. So, she does, especially when he leans in.
"Ah...thank you. I'll keep that in mind. I have a strong need to avoid ever being hit in the face again." She chuckles a little bit, studying a particularly interesting stain (blood? food? who could tell) on the ground.
Atia bolts to the galley soon after Joran leaves, filing away the information about the rum stores to share with some of the crewmates she felt she could trust during dinner the next day. After cleaning things up, Atia will pass out in her hammock.
A meal fit for the crew
Atia can see the sardonic grin on his face as he accepts the hardtack.
Nothing against the work that you do, just commenting on the general state of the ship.
Keeping a stoic look, he slightly shakes his head as the Cat is administered.
More proof that this capn is not really in charge. I wonder whom else might be interested in having people take a long swim with a heavy weight.
After lying down in the hammock, Seadreamer waits until Joran is back.
I guess there is another for that tasking that we talked about earlier today?
He shakes his head ruefully.
They can be glad that they took my axes, as there would have been a couple of bodies hitting the deck, and then I would have been for the cat or worse.
After lying down in the hammock, Seadreamer waits until Joran is back.
I guess there is another for that tasking that we talked about earlier today?
He shakes his head ruefully.
They can be glad that they took my axes, as there would have been a couple of bodies hitting the deck, and then I would have been for the cat or worse.
Lying there with his hands behind his head, Joran keeps his eyes focused upward and says, "Yep. But I'm not so sure if the entire crew mutinied against him and attacked him that we'd win. He's a different beast that one. It's almost like he's not even human. If we ever find our way off this tub, 'Dreamer, it will be because he was looking the other way." The barbarian lies there in silence for a couple of moments before, "And I'm glad you didn't have your axes either, buddy. We're definitely gonna need all hands working together to get off this thing. The last thing we need is you keelhauled. Our time will come and you'll get your axes back; it's just a matter of time. And when it does come, we'll all get to witness what a Stonebeard can do with a pair of axes... even the bad guys," he grins, finding himself looking forward to that day.
Katara goes back to her hammock, before then organizing "her own belongings". Before actually setting to sleep, however, she slips out to seek Joran. As usual, she navigates the ship as silently as she can, using the dim lights to her advantage.
She finally gets to his section as she's talking to the Dwarf, and holds for moments; then, she approaches and taps the barbarian carefully.
Sorry tah' disturb, mate. - she whispers, leaving a small object by his hands, wrapped in a piece of cloth - I'm sure 'ya can make good use of it, only and if needed. Not sure how tha' morning tomorrow will go, so I'd rather the strongest ones across us are better... Prepah'red.
She waits briefly to see if Joran or Seadreamer would say anything, but then leaves almost as fast and silently as she came. The wrapped object reveals to be a sort of kitchen knife - that could likely be used as a dagger.
Oof. Maybe conversing was a bad idea after all. It didn't help that she was dozing off. It seemed like honesty was the best option here.
"Trust me when I say these are cheap imitations of fancy clothes," she said. "It helps to fool people when they think you're important. But I'm actually from Riddleport... which is a pirate port. But no I'm not in that sort of business."
Samms tipped back her drink, draining the last of it. She studied Des for a moment. "Never could afford boots. Got used to going without." Destinie sensed there was more to it than that, but also that she wouldn't get more out of the woman just then. Still, the exchange had been cordial. It could have been worse.
The dawn bell chimes, and another day begins aboard the Wormwood.
The crew begins to swing their legs from their hammocks and unhook them to make room to move about. Most folks don't bother changing clothes when they sleep, wearing the same increasingly smelly, salt-encrusted clothing until it wears out, so it doesn't take long for folks to make their way up the stairs. Some of you are already longing for a bath, and long hair is becoming frizzy and tangled. Even if the ship was not captained by a fearmongering warlord and his henchmen, the uncomfortable realities of life at sea are settling in.
Atia reports to the galley to find Kroop is absent again. How did this ship function with him as the only cook? The woman with the eyepatch, who tastes the officers' food for poison each evening, is sitting on a countertop casually, waiting for her. "You are about to have a very bad day," she said cheerfully, her voice a tad on the sultry side. "Captain spotted some leatherbacks around the ship this morning. Sharing the same current we're riding in. He'd like turtle soup tonight. And since your boss drank himself into oblivion, looks like you'll be hunting and cooking today. Good luck. You don't want to disappoint him."
The rest of you report up on deck to receive your assignments. The riggers are set to doing line work today, hoisting and lowering sails as needed from the deck. The swabs are all set to...well...swabbing. Plugg gives the orders, though Master Scourge is usually the one to assign swabs their work. Scourge is a boiling pot under pressure today, looking fit to blow. He's not wearing his usual coat , just a shirt, and the way he's standing makes it clear he wasn't allowed healing last night and is still hurting. From the occasional murderous glare sent your way, you get the feeling he blames the lot of you, and not himself, for the punishment he received.
The officers ascend to the poop deck to confer with the Captain. You know the area to be off limits to non-officers when the Captain is on deck, unless serving as a runner, or summoned by one of the officers. For the moment, at least, you are left to your jobs with only casual supervision.
She finally gets to his section as she's talking to the Dwarf, and holds for moments; then, she approaches and taps the barbarian carefully.
Sorry tah' disturb, mate. - she whispers, leaving a small object by his hands, wrapped in a piece of cloth - I'm sure 'ya can make good use of it, only and if needed. Not sure how tha' morning tomorrow will go, so I'd rather the strongest ones across us are better... Prepah'red.
Caught a bit by surprise by how silent the young gal is, Joran accepts the item with a bit of curiosity. "Thanks," he simply says, nodding. As soon as she takes her leave, Joran unwraps it to see what it is...
Rising in the morning, Joran double checks he's still alive and still has his pants. Well, at least I've still got my pants. I've got to get me some shoes and a shirt at some point. Armor. Weapons. Some gear. Outside of that, though, I'm good, he thinks to himself, sighing as he runs a hand through his greasy hair. Sniffing a couple of times, By the gods I need a bath.
Looking around and catching sight of Destinie, he makes his way over to her. "Hey, I just wanted to say how gutsy that was standing there and blocking that dwarf the way you did. That was impressive because he packs a wallop, trust me," he nods emphatically, grinning. "You got guts. If he would've gotten through you, he would've surrounded me with Fipps and then who knows how it would've turned out. You saved my skin and I appreciate it. I won't forget it," he winks and gives her a nod of thanks before taking his leave.
He then looks around for Terry and makes his way over to him. "Hey, Quent, I saw you talking to Fipps last night. I didn't really hear what you said but by your body language it looked like you were trying to talk some sense into him. How'd that go?" he asks, crossing his arms and listening.
I got to figure out how to dispose of this rotgut before it kills me.
Rolling out of the cot in the morning Seadreamer checks his meager possessions.
Pants, check, shirt, check, nothing else yet.
He struggles up and onto the deck for the morning muster.
Time can heal a lot of things, and it was at least able to heal her injuries and get her well rested again. Still, it was clear she was really in need of a bath. With a sniff, she got up and straightened out her hair the best she could before venturing out.
When Joran complimented her on her stand, she shrugged in response. "That's something that happens when I'm threatened. I tend to take more risks and such. It sometimes a struggle to even remember what I did. Some say it's an outsider taking over my body or even one of the gods themselves."
Before heading up to the galley, Atia takes a moment to run her fingers through her increasingly greasy hair, trying to keep it from matting as best she can. I would do a lot of horrible things for a bath right now... Atia mused as she deftly braided her hair to keep it out of her face, the food, and from getting too tangled throughout the day. She is most thankful that she has not been bitten by anything in the night so far.
In the Galley
In the galley, Atia pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand, the other on her hip, and nods at the poison-taster. "Sure, sure. Just hunt and cook a turtle. Got it. Thank you, milady." She offers a slight bow from the waist. "My name is Atia. Pardon me for not introducing myself sooner."
After any conversation with the poison-taster, Atia will take care of the morning rations quickly and head out with her basket of hard tack to deliver to everyone.
On Deck
Her first stop is the deck, where she works hard to give Scourge a wide berth, avoiding eye contact with the man. Onlookers will notice her brows furrowed in a permanent state of concern.
When she finishes passing out the hard tack, she will lean over the edge of the deck, looking towards the back end of the ship, trying to catch a glimpse of the turtles she needs to somehow capture, slaughter, dress, and cook. The thought of getting the turtle ready to eat makes her stomach turn, but she pushes the feeling away, trying to focus on just the part where she has to catch one.
Atia growls in frustration, having trouble spotting anything other than ocean spray. She backs off from the edge of the deck, rubbing the saltwater away from her eyes ineffectively, muttering several extremely unladylike curses under her breath as she does.
When Joran complimented her on her stand, she shrugged in response. "That's something that happens when I'm threatened. I tend to take more risks and such. It sometimes a struggle to even remember what I did. Some say it's an outsider taking over my body or even one of the gods themselves."
Just as he's about to turn and leave, he stops in his tracks, a perplexed look about him. "Really? You don't remember? Like... anything that happen during the whole fight?" he asks, truly curious.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Deck
As Joran gets to work swabbing the decks, he manages to catch sight of Atia looking not very thrilled about something. Looking around a moment, he nonchalantly makes his way over toward Atia as he swabs. Wondering what it is she's looking at and why she seems quite perturbed, "Everything all right, Atia? Something the matter?"
When Joran complimented her on her stand, she shrugged in response. "That's something that happens when I'm threatened. I tend to take more risks and such. It sometimes a struggle to even remember what I did. Some say it's an outsider taking over my body or even one of the gods themselves."Just as he's about to turn and leave, he stops in his tracks, a perplexed look about him. "Really? You don't remember? Like... anything that happen during the whole fight?" he asks, truly curious.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Deck
As Joran gets to work swabbing the decks, he manages to catch sight of Atia looking not very thrilled about something. Looking around a moment, he nonchalantly makes his way over toward Atia as he swabs. Wondering what it is she's looking at and why she seems quite perturbed, "Everything all right, Atia? Something the matter?"
"Think of it like a dream," The oracle clarified. "You may remember some things that happen, but things are fuzzy. And it's easier to forget what happens once you wake up. I... try not to be put in situations like that. That's bound to get people to think outreach crazy."
Katara swabs around, pretending to care about the work, but with her head anywhere but there. She is glad they weren't jumped again, but has already started her preparation for the next time it happens - if it happens. While moving, she would talk with Jack, trying to gauge on how he was feeling.
Hey, mate... 'Tis my third day here now. You should be smilin' a lot more for having me' company! - she smiles to him, friendly, and even honestly worried - 'Ya know, one of me' new friends is Chelish too, like 'ya "adoptive" father. Atia, the girl by the kitchen helping tha' cook.
**********************************************
"Think of it like a dream," The oracle clarified. "You may remember some things that happen, but things are fuzzy. And it's easier to forget what happens once you wake up. I... try not to be put in situations like that. That's bound to get people to think outreach crazy."
"Interesting. And you won't get me to thinking that's crazy. Have you seen the psychos running this tub?" he winks. "See you around the ship," he nods, grinning, before looking for Terry...