Seadreamer wanders into the mess, grabs his square plate of turtle soup and goes to find a spot by the door, when Sharkbait walks quickly in.
Hey Joran, the soups good tonight. pull up a plate and sit down
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Grok shrugged, her face a picture of confusion. "Ya got me. He came by asking for some boots, then got all nervous and declared he was important..." she shrugged, then cocked her head to one side thoughtfully. "Keep it between us..." she mused. Grok snapped her fingers suddenly. "I've got it! He's a prince! Maybe even a king? He doesn't want anyone to know, because he'd be in greater danger if they did. I'll bet Ol' Scourge suspects, and that's why he's coming down on him so hard.". She took the idea and ran with it, imagining a whole alternate life for big man. She wore a dopey grin on her face all the while. "Don't you worry, beefcake, your secret is safe with me.". She remembered Atia was there. "Us. Right?"
Later that night, when Joran goes to turn in, he'll find his own boots and shirt waiting for him at his hammock.
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Grok shrugged, her face a picture of confusion. "Ya got me. He came by asking for some boots, then got all nervous and declared he was important..." she shrugged, then cocked her head to one side thoughtfully. "Keep it between us..." she mused. Grok snapped her fingers suddenly. "I've got it! He's a prince! Maybe even a king? He doesn't want anyone to know, because he'd be in greater danger if they did. I'll bet Ol' Scourge suspects, and that's why he's coming down on him so hard.". She took the idea and ran with it, imagining a whole alternate life for big man. She wore a dopey grin on her face all the while. "Don't you worry, beefcake, your secret is safe with me.". She remembered Atia was there. "Us. Right?"
Later that night, when Joran goes to turn in, he'll find his own boots and shirt waiting for him at his hammock.
Atia crosses her arms over her chest and furrows her brow in bewilderment as Grok speaks. She purses her lips, then opens her mouth to interrupt and then decides it isn't worth it. "Of course, 'beefcake's' secret is safe with us. Have a lovely evening, Grok." Atia suppresses a laugh and heads out, heading up to the deck with everyone else for the Bloody Hour and then, as the Bloody Hour was unusually peaceful, down to dinner.
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Relieved that he avoided getting someone else lashed this night, Joran heads down to grab something to eat. I've GOT to talk to Atia and find out what she may or may not have heard. Man I REALLY hope she didn't overhear that. Why do I have a bad feeling about this? If I would've know that I would've... what? you would've come up something MORE intelligent? Don't lie to yourself, Shark Bait, don't lie to yourself. He shakes his head again at how utterly foolish he was.
Seadreamer wanders into the mess, grabs his square plate of turtle soup and goes to find a spot by the door, when Sharkbait walks quickly in.
Hey Joran, the soups good tonight. Pull up a plate and sit down
Making it to dinner, he peeks in a moment, looking for a spot that's somewhat secluded from the others and tries to quickly make his way there. At least until Seadreamer calls out and startles him. "Whoa! What? I've no idea what you're talking about!" he responds defensively. It then registers how inane that sounded and he shakes his head in an attempt to get it together. "I mean, yeah, sure, thanks, 'Dreamer." He then takes a seat next to him, acting a bit fidgety as he starts his leg to bouncing. While waiting for the soup, he props his elbows up on the table and clasps his hands. He then nonchalantly turns his attention to the dwarf and attempts to hide behind his hands. "Hey, buddy, you haven't heard anything... strange of late, have you? Just curious."
Anything strange, not yet
Seadreamer looks at Joran, as he inquires.
Oddest thing is that the capn didn't call for anything during bloody hour. But that might change by tomorrow.
He looks around, and then comments.
Why, what have you heard
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Anything strange, not yet
Seadreamer looks at Joran, as he inquires.
Oddest thing is that the capn didn't call for anything during bloody hour. But that might change by tomorrow.
He looks around, and then comments.
Why, what have you heard
Shaking his head violently while smiling uncomfortably, "Who me?! No! Nothing. Nothing at all. Just, you know, curious is all," he simply responds, sighing and drawing his hands down his face. "Man this has been a long night, let me tell you. And I thought for sure I was gonna get lashed for busting that stupid mop. Man it was such a good day too," he genuinely smiles at that. "If it wasn't for that last stupid hour. Ah well, tomorrow's another day."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Atia brings out the soup, Joran's heart begins to race as she nears. Calm down, man, what's your problem?! Smiling somewhat awkwardly, "Hey, Atia, thanks for the soup. Nice job wrangling that turtle by the way. I saw that. That was well done. I wanted to help when I saw you and Destinie grapple with it but I was afraid of getting either of y'all lashed for it. You know how Scourge is," he says, the irritation obvious. Taking a drink of the poisonous grog, he looks at her a moment as if studying her before, "Hey can we talk later?" he asks plainly, his heart seemingly to be racing faster as his perspiration increases.
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When Atia brings out the soup, Joran's heart begins to race as she nears. Calm down, man, what's your problem?! Smiling somewhat awkwardly, "Hey, Atia, thanks for the soup. Nice job wrangling that turtle by the way. I saw that. That was well done. I wanted to help when I saw you and Destinie grapple with it but I was afraid of getting either of y'all lashed for it. You know how Scourge is," he says, the irritation obvious. Taking a drink of the poisonous grog, he looks at her a moment as if studying her before, "Hey can we talk later?" he asks plainly, his heart seemingly to be racing faster as his perspiration increases.
Atia returns Joran's smile as she walks up, thankful she had eaten a bit before she had come out in the process of tasting the soup and making sure it was edible. She wasn't sure she'd be able to stomach anything right now, what with all the butterflies swirling around inside her.
"I appreciate your help on that front, Joran." She turns slightly and inclines her head to Seadreamer, still smiling. "I saw you singing, as well. Thank you. Hopefully, the dinner lives up to the trouble...it could use some work, but I'm not sure I want to endure butchering another leatherback for the practice." Her smile falters slightly and she shudders, trying to push the memory of the draining turtle out of her mind.
Instead, she focuses on Joran. "I wanted to talk to you, too. What about now?" She wrings her hands a bit nervously, equal parts giddy and anxious. "Um, unless you want to wait?" She stays standing while she awaits a reply, shifting her weight from side to side as a way to let off the nervous energy. Atia, calm down. You are being ridiculous. She remembers that she's holding her rum ration in her hands and drinks it in one go, gritting her teeth against the burning sensation and shudder that rippled through her. Liquid courage?
It was a nervous affair for her. Everything pointed towards her getting a lashing... until it didn't happen. Scourge may think he could intimidate her by calling her a 'bilge-sucking maggot', but she already had a dismal opinion on him to begin with. And at the very least, Atia managed to escape blame for their stunt.
Which made the next round of grog seem more of a mundane affair with her gulping it down with little affair.
Hmm... the rum didn't even seem to affect her that much anymore. With that said, she still needed to work on not feeling exhausted after swabbing. But that would be for another time.
She looked over to see Joran and Atia looking at each other weirdly and decided to give them some space. For now, she felt the need to make amends with Samms.
Despite her exhaustion she managed to keep more of a confident front this time around as she explained herself.
"Hey. I'm sorry about being evasive before. I... didn't really have that many friends back him. Sure there were plenty of people who wanted to talk to me, but it was never on even footing. Either side just wanted something from the other. I wanted a change of pace so... here I am." she shrugged awkwardly. "Granted it wasn't my first choice... or even my top ten. But this place does have a fee bright spots."
-------------------------
At dinner time...
-------------------------
Katara truly enjoys the turtle soup - what a pleasant surprise, she thinks, all things considered. She pays no mind to Joran and Atia's business, instead seeking Terry through the crowd. Once she finds him, she sits by his side with a smile; she tries to ensure they're alone when she does so.
Ahoy, mate! I wanted to talk to you. 'Ya know, just sheer curiosity. - she starts, then following - 'Aye heard you have some curious story from Quent... Sum'thin' about a magic parlor trick involving a disappearing old piece of cloth.
She pauses, waiting for his response. Meanwhile, she looks around to make sure no one else is paying special attention to them, so pushes for the small talk.
----------------------
After dinner...
----------------------
Still with one of the daggers well hidden, Katara goes for yet another night of exploration. She has been lucky, so far, but her small size and nonchalant behavior helps wrap her in the shadows and she moves away from prying eyes. This time, she tries to seek the brig of the ship, or whatever place was being used to keep Jakes (the keelhauled man) before.
"I appreciate your help on that front, Joran." She turns slightly and inclines her head to Seadreamer, still smiling. "I saw you singing, as well. Thank you. Hopefully, the dinner lives up to the trouble...it could use some work, but I'm not sure I want to endure butchering another leatherback for the practice." Her smile falters slightly and she shudders, trying to push the memory of the draining turtle out of her mind.
Instead, she focuses on Joran. "I wanted to talk to you, too. What about now?" She wrings her hands a bit nervously, equal parts giddy and anxious. "Um, unless you want to wait?" She stays standing while she awaits a reply, shifting her weight from side to side as a way to let off the nervous energy. Atia, calm down. You are being ridiculous. She remembers that she's holding her rum ration in her hands and drinks it in one go, gritting her teeth against the burning sensation and shudder that rippled through her. Liquid courage?
Shooting up from his chair and wide-eyed, "YES! I mean, yeah, sure. Right now is good. It's good," he nods nervously. Why am I going nuts here?! Why can't I calm?! Looking to Seadreamer, "Excuse us, 'Dreamer," he nods and turns, motioning for her to go first before leading her to a 'less busy' area.
Once they are alone, "Okay, Atia, I was wondering, um," he clasps his sweaty palms together before splitting them again and wiping them on his pants, "did you by chance hear anything I said to Grok? Like, you know, anything at all?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, his nerves completely shot and feeling like his heart is about to explode out of his chest.
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Shooting up from his chair and wide-eyed, "YES! I mean, yeah, sure. Right now is good. It's good," he nods nervously. Why am I going nuts here?! Why can't I calm?! Looking to Seadreamer, "Excuse us, 'Dreamer," he nods and turns, motioning for her to go first before leading her to a 'less busy' area.Once they are alone, "Okay, Atia, I was wondering, um," he clasps his sweaty palms together before splitting them again and wiping them on his pants, "did you by chance hear anything I said to Grok? Like, you know, anything at all?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, his nerves completely shot and feeling like his heart is about to explode out of his chest.
When they're alone and Joran asks her what she heard, a look of concern flits across her face, but unbeknownst to the nervous man, it's because she's two steps away from bursting into laughter, and she's not ready to let him know she knows what's up. She looks down, feigning her usual nervousness (to a certain extent: the man made her as anxious as a deer staring down the nocked arrow of a hunter, and she enjoyed it). She bites her lips and takes a deep breath, looking up at him with as much concern on her face as she can muster. She reaches out a hand and grasps his forearm with sympathy.
"Oh, Joran. I was so sorry to hear about your...condition." She can barely contain her giggles; if Joran looks closely, past his own anxiety, he will see her eyes glittering with mirth.
"Hey. I'm sorry about being evasive before. I... didn't really have that many friends back him. Sure there were plenty of people who wanted to talk to me, but it was never on even footing. Either side just wanted something from the other. I wanted a change of pace so... here I am." she shrugged awkwardly. "Granted it wasn't my first choice... or even my top ten. But this place does have a fee bright spots."
Samms gave Des a little smile. "Don't worry none. Although I find folks always want something from each other, no matter how they try to sugar coat it. Human nature, and surely still true on this ship. I mean sure, we're sittin' here havin' a gab. You like me enough that you came over and apologized, I like you enough that I didn't tell you to leave. But it ain't wrong to say there's ulterior motives there, going both ways. You're not just making friends, you're forging alliances. Nothing wrong with it. S'how the strong survive in a situation like this."
The conversation was interrupted as the nearby crew quieted suddenly. Scourge had appeared in your midst, despite officers rarely mingling with the deckhands after the shift was done. The expression on his face was the same he usually wore -- one that looked as though he smelled something awful. And, to be fair, after three days at sea on a ship full of pirates, he probably did.
Scourge strode over to where Samms and Des were talking. "Captain Harrigan has requested your presence in his cabin," he said to Destinie, glaring at her. "Come with me."
Still with one of the daggers well hidden, Katara goes for yet another night of exploration. She has been lucky, so far, but her small size and nonchalant behavior helps wrap her in the shadows and she moves away from prying eyes. This time, she tries to seek the brig of the ship, or whatever place was being used to keep Jakes (the keelhauled man) before.
Katara slipped down into the bilges, which doubled as a brig for offenses that were so egregious as to require more than a quick flogging. She was halfway down the ladder when she hesitated, looking at the foot or two of black, filthy water that had collected along the bottom. Then, in the ceiling, the dense mat of cobwebs filled with fuzzy, fist shaped spider. Still, there several discarded crates and boxes around the edge of the space, could be something in them.
Deciding it was worth a try, she made her way over to the crates, wading through the musk. She spent a while digging through them. Most were empty of all but wet, moldy straw. One made her jump as a rat leapt out and scampered out of sight. But in the end, she found a decent
Confident that the crates held no more treasures, so headed back for the ladder when he foot nudged something solid under the water. Feeling around with her hands, she brought up a tarnished but still salvageable It occurred to her there might be more hidden in the brackish liquid, but she had quite a bit to try and stealthily carry back up the ladder already.
She was at the base of the ladder when she heard Jack's voice through the trapdoor grate that led to the crew quarters above. "Katara? Are you down here?"
When they're alone and Joran asks her what she heard, a look of concern flits across her face, but unbeknownst to the nervous man, it's because she's two steps away from bursting into laughter, and she's not ready to let him know she knows what's up. She looks down, feigning her usual nervousness (to a certain extent: the man made her as anxious as a deer staring down the nocked arrow of a hunter, and she enjoyed it). She bites her lips and takes a deep breath, looking up at him with as much concern on her face as she can muster. She reaches out a hand and grasps his forearm with sympathy.
"Oh, Joran. I was so sorry to hear about your...condition." She can barely contain her giggles; if Joran looks closely, past his own anxiety, he will see her eyes glittering with mirth.
Initially shocked by her giggling, it's not a moment later the barbarian breaks into a wide smile, begins chuckling, and then just breaks into laughter. FINALLY able to relax a bit, "Okay, okay, fair enough. So I take it you did hear. Do I at least get to explain?" he asks, looking back in her eyes and unable to contain a wry grin. Wow. She is so very..., he shakes himself free of the deep stare, trying to stay focused. Clearing his throat, "I can wait until the giggling stops. Don't mind me, I've got no pressing matters to attend to," he jokes, crossing his arms and shaking his head while waiting for her to calm. Although, the barbarian does find himself enjoying her laughter a great deal to where he can't stop smiling.
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Initially shocked by her giggling, it's not a moment later the barbarian breaks into a wide smile, begins chuckling, and then just breaks into laughter. FINALLY able to relax a bit, "Okay, okay, fair enough. So I take it you did hear. Do I at least get to explain?" he asks, looking back in her eyes and unable to contain a wry grin. Wow. She is so very..., he shakes himself free of the deep stare, trying to stay focused. Clearing his throat, "I can wait until the giggling stops. Don't mind me, I've got no pressing matters to attend to," he jokes, crossing his arms and shaking his head while waiting for her to calm. Although, the barbarian does find himself enjoying her laughter a great deal to where he can't stop smiling.
It takes Atia a moment to catch her breath - she has to put out a hand against the nearby wall to steady herself. "Yes, explain away, beefcake." A final giggle slips out with that last jab, but she takes a deep, cleansing breath and looks up at him with eyebrows raised. "You know, if it helps, Grok thinks you said important. Apparently, you're some kind of secret prince or king."
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Terry smiles as he realizes Katara was seeking him out. "Well, I suppose you could call it a parlor trick . . .. Several years back, before Wide Olga was on the Pirate Council, the Beckoning Nereid was in port, and her crew was doing the things that sailors tend to do with a little shore leave. Now, as an entirely different story, Wide Olga managed to publicly insult Tessa Fairwind early in that stay. Fairwind's reputation requires that she respond to a public insult in her own town, so she had to do SOMETHING." He stretches a bit, shrugging before he continues on. "As the Beckoning Nereid prepared to depart, Olga realized something was missing. Her banner. Somebody had stolen the pennant she flies so that others can recognize her presence! She, naturally, suspected Fairwind, but could prove nothing. The crew wasn't happy with the search of the town they had to try to perform without running afoul of the local authorities, but many were happy to have more time to slake their appetites before heading back out to sea. The morning that would be day four of the search, her First Mate, Bucktooth Buckley, was climbing out of a whorehouse bed when several of the ladies came in and made a point of stripping the bed before he could leave the room. Wide Olga's flag had been in the sheets, and was stained from more than one transaction. So, a disappearing piece of cloth was produced "in the parlor," in about the most embarrassing way possible. I seem to remember that the Beckoning Nereid left port without a First Mate. Bucktooth Buckley never has recovered, near as I've heard." He stops and scans the audience that's developed, that always develops when somebody's spinning a yarn at sea. "Or did you have a different vanishing cloth parlor trick in mind? I'm sure there are more!"
Destinie smiled in response, as if a great weight was lifted from. Only for it to be stacked back on her with the arrival of Scourge. When he beckoned her to follow him, she glanced at Samms, then to whoever else could be watching them before standing back up.
Well... you know where I'll be." And with that she followed Scourge out the gallery.
-------------------------
At dinner time...
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Oh, 'ya crack me up, mate! - she says, now stopping to clearly look around to see if anyone else has gathered around them - Dunno who suffered tha' most... Buckley, The whores to entertain that ugly bastard, Olga for the shame, or that poor flag!
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After dinner...
----------------------
Oh, for crying out loud! This kid has eyes of an eagle!, she thinks. For moments she ponders if she should just keep her silence and hide, but is concerned that he'd come down to search for her and end up hurt. Instead, she rushes upstairs, and tries to put her mouth to shut him up.
Shhh! - she whispers - Come, b'fore someone sees us. I'll explain 'ya.
She tries to pull him out silently, towards the crew quarters.
Seadreamer quaffs the drink.
Man I got to figure out how to get rid of this rotgut. Maybe I could ask Sharkbait to see if Atia will cut the grog with more water.
He gets up, and wanders up onto the weather deck to look around and enjoy the night air away from the hustle and bustle of the belowdecks.
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Story Time
----------------
Conchobar and Tilly had wandered close enough to hear Terry's tale. The gnome was laughing hysterically, while Tilly smirked and shook her head. "Never heard that one before," she chuckled.
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Katara and Jack
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Jack had been seeking her in the crew quarters, where the trap door to the bilges was -- he jumped a but to hear her voice come from below his feet. He moved off the trap door and offered a hand to help her up or take some of the things she was trying to carry.
"Oh! My apologies!" he said quietly, looking around to be sure no one was paying them any mind. "I was just looking for you to return this." He held up the finished scrimshaw piece, now with a small, smooth hole bored through one end and a leather thong tied onto it to make a necklace. He smiled shyly.
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Destinie
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Samms frowned with concern and nodded, and Destinie saw her get up and move over to speak to Sandara, who glanced her way with a worried expression right before Des lost line of sight on her. Seadreamer also noted her being escorted away, right as he came up on deck.
Scourge said nothing, just walked a couple paces ahead of her, his personality one of stewing anger, as always. He knocked on one of the doors to the Captain's cabin, and Harrigan's deep voice boomed out. "Enter."
Scourge opened the door and waited for Destinie to enter before walking in behind her.
Captain Harrigan’s cabin was richly decorated, its walls covered with intricate carvings depicting krakens devouring whales. A quartet of portholes allowed moonlight to drift in, and a luxurious looking double bed hung from four chains attached to the ceiling, allowing it to sway with the ship. There was a table that likely served for planning as well as dining, and two plates of food sat upon it. A large fur rung and a mismatched but expensive exotic one of Katapesh design covered much of the floor.
"Thank you, Scourge. You may go." The boatswain bristled at the dismissal but nodded his head curtly and left. Destinie found herself alone with the Captain. He was standing near a shelf on the wall, and for a long moment he looked her over, arms crossed over his chest. He bore the same inscrutable expression she'd seen on him earlier, when he was watching them haul the turtle aboard.
Harrigan grabbed two glasses in one hand and strode closer, setting them on the table. He uncorked a bottle of brandy, and poured a small amount in each, handing her one. "They tell me you're called Destinie. A most portentous moniker." He held his glass up in a faux toast and drank it, then poured himself another. "Please, join me for dinner. Assuming you've not already eaten your fill." Grim humor, that, as they barely fed the lot of you enough to take the hunger pangs away. The table setting included bread -- the real stuff, not hard tack, and with butter and jam for spreading -- some fresh vegetables from Port Peril that were not yet wilted, and, of course, Atia's soup.
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It takes Atia a moment to catch her breath - she has to put out a hand against the nearby wall to steady herself. "Yes, explain away, beefcake." A final giggle slips out with that last jab, but she takes a deep, cleansing breath and looks up at him with eyebrows raised. "You know, if it helps, Grok thinks you said important. Apparently, you're some kind of secret prince or king."
Joran covers his face with a hand and rubs his eyes as he goes red in embarrassment at the term 'beefcake', yet, he still can't help but be caught with a smile.
His eyebrows then raise at the revelation. "Important? And a secret prince or a king? Gods bless that half-orc for being drunk!" he rejoices! Completely losing himself in the thrill of the moment, he reaches out, firmly takes hold of Atia's face in both hands and quickly leans in toward her lips with his own. Fortunately - unfortunately? - his mind kicks back in gear at the last second and he abruptly stops - a mere inch or two from her face. Swallowing hard as his eyes dance back and forth while he looks into hers, "I, um, I," before backing away while still mindlessly holding onto her face. He quickly let's go, scratching the side of his face in an effort to cover up the awkwardness. With his heart back to racing again, he clears his throat and tries to pretend nothing happened. "Okay, um, well you're gonna love this, darlin'...," he tries to hurriedly move on.
"Well, all I wanted was to try and get my shoes back. I would've asked for a shirt but it didn't get that far... thank the gods," he deadpans. " Anyway, so I went to Grok to see if she'd give me shoes. Next thing I know, she's throwing out 'beefcake' and grabbing my bicep," he shows her, flexing it, "and wonders what I could 'give her' in return. Well, unfortunately, I don't own anything. Well except for these britches. And I ain't giving her those," he shakes his head vigorously. "So... well... in a nutshell, I panicked and threw out... you know," he shrugs. "I tried to think of something better than that but I just couldn't," he shakes his head, placing his hands on his sides. "Anyway, maybe if I would've kissed her I could've gotten shoes, shirt, armor... who knows? I can tell you this, if she would've asked for something 'else'," he does air quotes, "then I guess I'm NEVER going to find out what I could get. That gal frightens me, I gotta say," he states matter-of-factly and now has to wait for Atia to stop giggling again. Shaking his head again while still unable to contain a grin, "You done? Any time now," he crosses his arms and waits. When she finally ceases, "Anyway, that's what happened. I didn't realize you were behind me. If I'd've known that...," he shrugs, not really knowing how to finish that or even why he started it.
She was prepared for a lot of situations. There was always the chance that Scourge was lying. Even if he wasn't, she was ready for the Captain to shout her head off for shirking her duties for a bit.
Which made his actual reaction to throw her for a loop.
After spending some seconds trying to strategies just what in the nine circles of hell he was up to, she decided at least the brandy was safe enough to toast and drink while struggling not to take it all at once to sate her hunger.
"I would say so too," she replied courteously. "My parents were convinced I was destined for great things. Not everyone has a baby arrive at their doorstep, much one that had white hair from a young age."
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At dinner time...
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As she notices the Conchobar and Tilly approaching, Katara understands that's her cue. She stands up laughing, tapping on Terry's shoulder, and leans to whisper to his ears only.
Keep'em busy, Terry th'Tiger... We need the friends, or at least tah' understand where loyalties lie. I'll leave something by your hammock tonight.
She blinks to him, right by the moment the gnome and the human get by. She leans on the gnome's shoulder.
Tis' guy is hilarious! - she speaks to Conchobar while pointing at Terry, and as soon as she sees them engaging with him, she will use the distraction to disappear for her night activities.
On the way, she will seek Terry's hammock, make sure she's not been observed, then leave a hidden object wrapped in some old clothes - in which she writes "Olga's Flag" with a piece of coal.
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After dinner...
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Oh! - she says, picking the piece from him and immediately wrapping around her neck - It's fantastic, mate!
She organizes the objects with his help, then speaks.
Ya' know, 'tis will be another of our secrets. We gotta be ready... And I do have sum'thing for you as well, that I got today with Grok. - she pauses, looking around as he did to make sure they aren't being observed, then produces one dagger - Keep it hidden, mate. 'Tis not ta' be used, huh? Only if 'ya need to defend yourself. Find me if you ever need help... But try to lay low so ya' never have to use it.
While she is aware that he had to be using something to carve the scrimshaw, she figured it would have been something improvised - and hoped that the dagger would give him some protection and a better tool for the job.
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Joran covers his face with a hand and rubs his eyes as he goes red in embarrassment at the term 'beefcake', yet, he still can't help but be caught with a smile.
His eyebrows then raise at the revelation. "Important? And a secret prince or a king? Gods bless that half-orc for being drunk!" he rejoices! Completely losing himself in the thrill of the moment, he reaches out, firmly takes hold of Atia's face in both hands and quickly leans in toward her lips with his own. Fortunately - unfortunately? - his mind kicks back in gear at the last second and he abruptly stops - a mere inch or two from her face. Swallowing hard as his eyes dance back and forth while he looks into hers, "I, um, I," before backing away while still mindlessly holding onto her face. He quickly let's go, scratching the side of his face in an effort to cover up the awkwardness. With his heart back to racing again, he clears his throat and tries to pretend nothing happened. "Okay, um, well you're gonna love this, darlin'...," he tries to hurriedly move on.
"Well, all I wanted was to try and get my shoes back. I would've asked for a shirt but it didn't get that far... thank the gods," he deadpans. " Anyway, so I went to Grok to see if she'd give me shoes. Next thing I know, she's throwing out 'beefcake' and grabbing my bicep," he shows her, flexing it, "and wonders what I could 'give her' in return. Well, unfortunately, I don't own anything. Well except for these britches. And I ain't giving her those," he shakes his head...
Maybe it was the rum ration, the gentle swaying of the ship on the ocean, or even a little bit of adrenaline from having a somewhat decent day. Atia, usually feeling rather in control of herself, wasn't sure just how she allowed a soft huff of disappointment to escape her lips when Joran decides, at the last moment, not to kiss her. Her face, red with sunburn, flushes an even deeper red. A maelstrom had formed in the pit of her stomach and had whipped her heartbeat into a frenzy, leaving her feeling breathless. She rocks back slightly on the heels of her feet, watching Joran's lips more than anything as he explains himself.
"I feel like offering Grok a kiss would be as dangerous a path as offering her your pants, Joran," She says, her eyes flicking up to his own and she grins, shaking her head. "I don't know why you're so worried. About what I think." She reaches out and places a hand on the bicep he had flexed and squeezes lightly, reassuringly. She thinks for a moment that her hand seems impossibly small against the expanse of his arm, and the maelstrom in her center flashes like lightning. Atia suddenly feels emboldened, and she pulls Joran down closer to her, as close as he had come earlier, before he had backed out of kissing her. She tilts her head to one side and glances at his lips again, then back up to him, cocking an eyebrow as if to ask permission.
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As his heart races like an engine when she pulls him down to her, Joran doesn't hesitate a moment at her offer and presses his lips against hers, kissing her with a level of passion he didn't realize he possessed. Finally able to release the pent-up feelings that's been building, the barbarian doesn't hold back. For a long time he kissed her. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want this night to end. Ever.
Eventually, though, Joran separates his lips from hers ever so slowly and reluctantly, stroking her cheek softly before looking into her eyes. Smiling, "Man why do we have to be on this blasted tub?" he asks rhetorically, still smiling.
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As his heart races like an engine when she pulls him down to her, Joran doesn't hesitate a moment at her offer and presses his lips against hers, kissing her with a level of passion he didn't realize he possessed. Finally able to release the pent-up feelings that's been building, the barbarian doesn't hold back. For a long time he kissed her. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want this night to end. Ever.
Eventually, though, Joran separates his lips from hers ever so slowly and reluctantly, stroking her cheek softly before looking into her eyes. Smiling, "Man why do we have to be on this blasted tub?" he asks rhetorically, still smiling.
At the start, she had hoped that her inexperience wasn't wildly obvious throughout, but after a minute or two, she had stopped caring. Atia takes a deep breath when the kiss ends and nods with agreement, finding it difficult to put coherent thoughts and words together. She meets his gaze and smiles, speaking softly. "Well, that was new. And nice. We should do that again sometime." She laughs and takes a moment to glance around where they're at, hoping that they hadn't been seen.
"I hate to say it, but we probably shouldn't be gone too long." Her brows furrow with concern and she heaves a heavy sigh. "Scourge doesn't need more ways to make your life miserable."
At the start, she had hoped that her inexperience wasn't wildly obvious throughout, but after a minute or two, she had stopped caring. Atia takes a deep breath when the kiss ends and nods with agreement, finding it difficult to put coherent thoughts and words together. She meets his gaze and smiles, speaking softly. "Well, that was new. And nice. We should do that again sometime." She laughs and takes a moment to glance around where they're at, hoping that they hadn't been seen.
"I hate to say it, but we probably shouldn't be gone too long." Her brows furrow with concern and she heaves a heavy sigh. "Scourge doesn't need more ways to make your life miserable."
Smiling, "I'd like that." He then takes a quick glance around himself. "And you're right. We have to keep this between us. We can't let this get out. If it does," he pauses, the concern obvious upon his face, "I don't even want to know what Scourge will do if he finds out. C'mon, beautiful, let's get back. You go ahead and I'll follow in behind you a few steps back."
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Smiling, "I'd like that." He then takes a quick glance around himself. "And you're right. We have to keep this between us. We can't let this get out. If it does," he pauses, the concern obvious upon his face, "I don't even want to know what Scourge will do if he finds out. C'mon, beautiful, let's get back. You go ahead and I'll follow in behind you a few steps back."
"I'm not sure I'd like to find out what Scourge is capable of, either." She shudders. "You know, other than Grok and Fishguts, who are pretty drunk at night...the galley is nice and quiet. and secluded. Ah...and smelly, but I'm working on that. For future reference." She smiles a bit wickedly, stealing one last lingering kiss before leaving to go back to the hold where folks were eating.
-- Back in the Hold --
As Atia enters, she notices Tilly and Conchobar near Terry and walks over to them to tentatively join them - Terry and Tilly had both been kind to her on her first day, but she hadn't gotten out of the galley much (aside from the breakfast rounds) until today.
She will wait until there is an appropriate time to speak, so as not to interrupt any conversation or storytelling, and smile a bit shyly at all of them. "Evening. What did you think of the soup?" She cringes inwardly at her own awkwardness. She was, actually, genuinely interested in their opinions. She figured if she could do a decent job cooking, more folks would be less inclined to fight her.
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"I'm not sure I'd like to find out what Scourge is capable of, either." She shudders. "You know, other than Grok and Fishguts, who are pretty drunk at night...the galley is nice and quiet. and secluded. Ah...and smelly, but I'm working on that. For future reference." She smiles a bit wickedly, stealing one last lingering kiss before leaving to go back to the hold where folks were eating.
Joran grins magnificently. "Let me know!" he calls out as loud as he dares to as she leaves. By the gods let me know. Still smiling as he watches her until she's out of sight, the barbarian takes a deep breath and takes his leave.
Seadreamer quaffs the drink.
Man I got to figure out how to get rid of this rotgut. Maybe I could ask Sharkbait to see if Atia will cut the grog with more water.
He gets up, and wanders up onto the weather deck to look around and enjoy the night air away from the hustle and bustle of the belowdecks.
But before turning in, he decides to head to the upper deck to take in the salty sea air for just a moment. Even though he's got very little energy left due to the work and the drugs, he still finds himself quite awake amazingly enough. Catching sight of Seadreamer, he makes his way over to him and leans against the railing, looking out into the night as the wind blows his hair around while he listens to the water splash against the boat. "Hey, 'Dreamer, what's up, buddy?"
== Story time ends ==
As Terry smiles along with the obvious enjoyment Conchobar and Tilly are having from the quick story, he notices the women have swapped out on him. Katara walking away after having asked for the story, and Atia coming up on him during it. Keep 'em busy, she said. Distraction for the package gathering, maybe?
Meanwhile he responds to Tilly. "Oh, there are an amazing number of little stories like that. Every one true!"
When Atia asks about the soup, his smile broadens. "Something on board that is both fresh and not fish is almost unheard of! It was a marvelous delight. Will be even better if you can do it again after a couple more weeks at sea. We'll need someone with a divine spark to make the vegetables edible, again, but that bit of magic is worth 10 good men on a long voyage!"
== Trying to make friends ==
Hoping his luck with Fipps will hold, Terry works his way towards the mountainous man during the social hour. "Nice having a meal with neither the salt nor fish tonight, wasn't it? That Atia's doing her part to make the ship a better place, isn't she? I hear she's pretty much got the run of the galley, and needs it. I know, her problems aren't your problems, but being good with Cookie is always important for every sailor, yeah?"
== Bunk time ==
Finding the bundle, Terry doesn't examine it until after he's in his hammock, and can try to use his body to hide the contents from those around him.
I've really got no place to hide this. Safest bet will probably be to just wear it. I can honestly say it was left as a gift by a hidden benefactor. Maybe say I think it was Syl, hoping that if I'll choose to use it on other crewmembers and get punished for it.
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== Story time ends ==
As Terry smiles along with the obvious enjoyment Conchobar and Tilly are having from the quick story, he notices the women have swapped out on him. Katara walking away after having asked for the story, and Atia coming up on him during it. Keep 'em busy, she said. Distraction for the package gathering, maybe?
Meanwhile he responds to Tilly. "Oh, there are an amazing number of little stories like that. Every one true!"
When Atia asks about the soup, his smile broadens. "Something on board that is both fresh and not fish is almost unheard of! It was a marvelous delight. Will be even better if you can do it again after a couple more weeks at sea. We'll need someone with a divine spark to make the vegetables edible, again, but that bit of magic is worth 10 good men on a long voyage!"
Atia's shy smile breaks into a grin at the praise - she won't deny that she does enjoy being recognized for her work - and nods along with Terry. "Stories, hm? I'm sorry I missed it. As for the food, I am not looking forward to when we run out of the fresher things, but for now, we will have to enjoy this while it lasts." She shrugs. "Sure wish Kroop were a little more...helpful."
-- Galley, After Dinner --
Atia spends some time cleaning up to make things a little easier on her in the morning, shuffling around the chickens and the other livestock as she works. The actions weren't quite second nature yet, but they felt routine enough that she could sort through the events of the day. Tomorrow, if Kroop isn't up and functional, that damn man is going to get a bucket of water poured over him. I can't keep doing this by myself. She scrubs a stain just a little harder with frustration at the thought of Kroop, then chews on her bottom lip. Who just randomly craves turtle? I'll have to repay Destinie somehow...I wonder where she was?
Soon, the kitchen is slightly less terrible than before she started: pots and pans from the day cleaned and stashed, spices organized a tad, the worst of the general cooking spatter wiped off (so many weird, unknown, uncomfortable stains she couldn't get out of the wood!). It was now that she allowed herself to think about Joran. She rubs her face with both her hands, a warmth blossoming in her belly at the memory of the kiss. Never really thought I'd be able to tell someone, someday, that my first kiss was on a pirate ship. Almost makes up for how sad it is that it took me this long to kiss someone. Hard to do anything fun or interesting when you're being watched all the time. She smiles slightly, shaking her head, and walks over to pet Asmodeus gently. Hope he still likes me after he gets to know me better. I don't want to lose this feeling.
"It's time for bed, Asmodeus. You staying in here or coming with me?" No matter the bird's choice, Atia will head off to her hammock and fall asleep thinking about the earlier encounter with Joran, a foolish smile on her face.
Seadreamer[/b], he makes his way over to him and leans against the railing, looking out into the night as the wind blows his hair around while he listens to the water splash against the boat. "Hey, 'Dreamer, what's up, buddy?"
Seadreamer turns to look as the big man comes over.
Just taking in the night sky and thinking afore turning in.He quickly pauses and then carries on in a lower voice.
I used to take turns in front of the mast on my fathers ships when we passed near here. Hell, I could run this ship better than it is being run now
He shakes his head ruefully
I wanted to return to the sea, but I really didn't expect coming out this way.
"I would say so too," she replied courteously. "My parents were convinced I was destined for great things. Not everyone has a baby arrive at their doorstep, much one that had white hair from a young age."
The Captain pulled out a chair for her in a gentlemanly way that sharply contrasted with his brutish appearance. He waited for her to sit, then slid her chair into place and gestured for her to dig in to the meal. He, however, did not sit, swirling his drink and strolling over to the closest porthole, leaning his free arm just under it and craning his neck down a bit to peer out into the night.
"I left my mother to die when I was twelve," he said conversationally. "I knew I was destined for great things. And I knew I would not achieve them sitting at the bedside of a sick woman while she wasted away." He drained his brandy.
His next words gave her a bit of whiplash, as he changed the topic rather suddenly. "I've noticed you, these past few days. You're a people person. You make friends, forge alliances, gather allies. You had the redhead doing half your work for you from day one, and I don't doubt the little scullion will feel the need to repay you for your help with the day's catch." He turned away from the window to face her. "Skillful manipulation. The sort I could find a use for."
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Ya' know, 'tis will be another of our secrets. We gotta be ready... And I do have sum'thing for you as well, that I got today with Grok. - she pauses, looking around as he did to make sure they aren't being observed, then produces one dagger - Keep it hidden, mate. 'Tis not ta' be used, huh? Only if 'ya need to defend yourself. Find me if you ever need help... But try to lay low so ya' never have to use it.
Jack took the dagger, turning it over in his hands a couple times, then nodding and tucking into his belt, under his oversized tunic. "Be careful," he cautioned, a sincere look of worry on his face. "You should 'lay low' as well. Do not get caught stocking up on arms or it will paint a target on your back."
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Hoping his luck with Fipps will hold, Terry works his way towards the mountainous man during the social hour. "Nice having a meal with neither the salt nor fish tonight, wasn't it? That Atia's doing her part to make the ship a better place, isn't she? I hear she's pretty much got the run of the galley, and needs it. I know, her problems aren't your problems, but being good with Cookie is always important for every sailor, yeah?"
Fipps spat off to the side, then smirked in a most unfriendly way. " Oh I'd like to get good with 'Cookie' alright. Maybe one of these night I will." He let that statement hang there ominously and walked away, chuckling to himself.
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"It's time for bed, Asmodeus. You staying in here or coming with me?"
Atia is startled when someone other than Asmodeus replies.
"Aww, are you sure it's the bird you want to take back to your hammock?" Syl stands in the doorway, blocking it, and thus, Atia's only way out. Her face is split into a huge grin, and she giggles the same throaty giggle you heard during the brawl yesterday. " 'I don't know why you're so worried about what I think!' " she quoted in a sing-songy voice, followed by a series of kissy sounds and more laughter. "The galley is nice and quiet, and secluded'..." Syl made an exaggerated disgusted face. "Really? You two are going going to bump uglies in the place where you make our food?" She tsked. "What would the officers think?" She smiled.
Dinner Time
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Not having a taste for the cheap stuff, Ming tries to get rid of her rum portion again. She wanted to keep a clear head.
After Dinner
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After Dinner Ming made herself disappear in a corner, trying to scout out parts of the ship and the places where the crew lockers are.
Especially those of Tam and the others who took onto them the day before, Scourge and Plugg among them.
Ming does not spot lockers for the officers down here. Their private cabin is a couple levels up, and likely their belongings are there. Tam, however, does indeed have one. There is a lock on it, but Ming finds a moment when no one is around...
+2 with thieves tools
Ming tries to pick the lock with some of the hair pins she has left, but those are already rusty and old and it proofs a difficult task.
Jack took the dagger, turning it over in his hands a couple times, then nodding and tucking into his belt, under his oversized tunic. "Be careful," he cautioned, a sincere look of worry on his face. "You should 'lay low' as well. Do not get caught stocking up on arms or it will paint a target on your back."
Katara just smiles and waits for him to leave. It's already a bit late, so she stops to think about her next day; her priority right now is to put a weapon into Seadreamer's and Ming's hands; one of the maces and the last dagger likely would do the trick. She has no idea if anyone is actually martially trained, and these are simpler weapons to use than the exquisite handaxe. Maybe one of them would know how to don this leather armor too?, she wonders, considering on how to approach it without catching too much attention.
Atia, Destinie, and Cassandra don't look much the type to use weapons and Sandara had somewhat helped them already, but yet Katara wants to make sure even they end up with means to defend themselves better than resorting to spells or prayers. Maybe some more daggers, I guess? Or just some light maces? I can't have Grok having too many ideas about me, though., she concludes, thinking that she needs a better lock.
She goes to her hammock, finally, carrying the small crude bag with some of "her" "new" belongings. Somebody gotta be missing a leg., crosses her thoughts as she puts her left arm under the head. Tomorrow will be another day, but I already feel safer than a couple days ago. - and as she looks at the wooden ceiling, she holds the scrimshaw and prays to Besmara, preparing for more mischief.
The Captain pulled out a chair for her in a gentlemanly way that sharply contrasted with his brutish appearance. He waited for her to sit, then slid her chair into place and gestured for her to dig in to the meal. He, however, did not sit, swirling his drink and strolling over to the closest porthole, leaning his free arm just under it and craning his neck down a bit to peer out into the night."I left my mother to die when I was twelve," he said conversationally. "I knew I was destined for great things. And I knew I would not achieve them sitting at the bedside of a sick woman while she wasted away." He drained his brandy.
His next words gave her a bit of whiplash, as he changed the topic rather suddenly. "I've noticed you, these past few days. You're a people person. You make friends, forge alliances, gather allies. You had the redhead doing half your work for you from day one, and I don't doubt the little scullion will feel the need to repay you for your help with the day's catch." He turned away from the window to face her. "Skillful manipulation. The sort I could find a use for."
"I can actually relate to you in that way," she said before taking another sip of that cup of brandy, deciding to leave out why she did the same.
His next words caused her to flinch internally. She knew Samms words were encouraging such things, but it still stung. Was that the reason she had the cleric to help her? Or why no one else batted an eye when she left her duties? This couldn't be happening again.. could it? There was a lot racing in her mind.
Which was why she surprised even herself when she responded outwardly by placing her drink down while trying her hands together. "So what do have in mind?"
Ming's hair pin snaps, the tip stuck in the lock. She manages to dislodge it to hide the fact that she attempted the pilfering, but unfortunately, without real tools, she's not sure she'll find success. Voices warn of someone coming, and she doesn't have time to try again as Aretta and the Rahadoumi man stumble into the crew quarters, a bit amorously and clearly drunk.
----------------------------------------------
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Destinie:
Harrigan twisted and turned his empty glass, idly watching the light play over the crystal facets of the base of it. "Let's just say I have plans. Some of them require a soft touch." He closed his hand and shattered the glass he was holding suddenly, startlingly. "Something I decidedly lack." Discarding the bit of glass he still clutched, and plucking one shard out of his palm without flinching, he pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the wound.
His boots crunched on the glass as he walked back towards her.
He placed his uninjured hand heavily on her shoulder as he stood behind her at the table. It was massive, his fingers resting on her collarbone and his thumb behind her neck. She realized he, too, was skilled at manipulation, of perhaps a less subtle sort -- bidding her to sit in the armed chair and scooting her into the table left her somewhat trapped, as he stood there preventing her from moving the seat back. "Of course, I can't share my plans with a woman I can't trust." He moved his thumb back and forth along the nape of her neck, lightly, in spite of his earlier comment about lacking a soft touch. Still, his momentary gentleness did not make the man any less intimidating. A thinly veiled threat laid under his words.
---------------------------
Sandara and Samms came down below decks looking a bit anxious, and glanced around until spotting Joran and Seadreamer. They hurried over.
"Scourge just took Destinie to the Captain," Sandara said nervously. "Then he came back out, alone."
Samms added, "I overheard one of the officers mention they weren't eating with the Captain tonight, because he wanted his privacy." She let that hang there without elaborating, but her worry was clear.
Destinie:
Harrigan twisted and turned his empty glass, idly watching the light play over the crystal facets of the base of it. "Let's just say I have plans. Some of them require a soft touch." He closed his hand and shattered the glass he was holding suddenly, startlingly. "Something I decidedly lack." Discarding the bit of glass he still clutched, and plucking one shard out of his palm without flinching, he pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the wound.
His boots crunched on the glass as he walked back towards her.He placed his uninjured hand heavily on her shoulder as he stood behind her at the table. It was massive, his fingers resting on her collarbone and his thumb behind her neck. She realized he, too, was skilled at manipulation, of perhaps a less subtle sort -- bidding her to sit in the armed chair and scooting her into the table left her somewhat trapped, as he stood there preventing her from moving the seat back. "Of course, I can't share my plans with a woman I can't trust." He moved his thumb back and forth along the nape of her neck, lightly, in spite of his earlier comment about lacking a soft touch. Still, his momentary gentleness did not make the man any less intimidating. A thinly veiled threat laid under his words.
It did remind her of some of the old tricks in the past. Namely one where someone is coerced into a deal She silently cursed herself for not seeing things through. Namely finding herself trapped between a table and a hardened man. Whatever this man had in store, it may well tie herself to him for the rest of her life. And that frightened her. Outwardly, she stopped noticing the meal entirely and started to sweat. Thinking fast, she had something to say.
"Then don't. The less I know... the less can be tied back to you. Besides... I'm trying not to be that kind of woman... not anymore."
Harrigan's other hand moved to her other shoulder, and his thumbs pressed into her shoulders, massaging muscles that were sore from three days of hard labor. It felt nice, but still only served to increase her tension, given the circumstances. One forefinger ran along the side of her jawline. He leaned down and spoke from right beside her ear in his deep voice. "A woman like you, a woman meant for greatness, shouldn't be wasted lugging ropes and swabbing decks. Serving me more... directly... would have its benefits. As my star ascends, yours would follow."
Seadreamer turns to look as the big man comes over.
Just taking in the night sky and thinking afore turning in.
He quickly pauses and then carries on in a lower voice.
I used to take turns in front of the mast on my fathers ships when we passed near here. Hell, I could run this ship better than it is being run now
He shakes his head ruefully
I wanted to return to the sea, but I really didn't expect coming out this way.
As he looks out into the ocean, "Don't you worry, buddy, you'll get your chance. An opportunity will arise we just have to wait for it. And when it does, then your opportunity will arise, I promise you. Just hang in there." His attention is quickly drawn to the women approaching...
Sandara and Samms came down below decks looking a bit anxious, and glanced around until spotting Joran and Seadreamer. They hurried over.
"Scourge just took Destinie to the Captain," Sandara said nervously. "Then he came back out, alone."
Samms added, "I overheard one of the officers mention they weren't eating with the Captain tonight, because he wanted his privacy." She let that hang there without elaborating, but her worry was clear.
Eyes going wide, "Are you sure?! She's still in there alone with him?! Oh man that is not good, not good." He works to think on what to do before shaking his head. "We gotta get her outta there. There is nothing good that can come of that. I know captains like Harrigan. She won't leave out of there without agreeing to whatever it is he wants. Whether she likes it or not," he states ominously. "Give me a second, let me think...," and the barbarian does just that.
As he does he moves over on the ship to where the captain's cabin is directly below him and his mind begins to work as he looks around...
Damn that man to the Pharasma's realm.
He reaches up with a steadying hand towards Joran.
Be still, Destinie is stronger than you think and she will need both her wits and her own strength to deal with this.
Seadreamer pauses, and then continues
Since we do not have any weapons, all we can do if we charge in there right now would be to die, and I for one do not want to die needlessly. The capn and scourge will pay for what they do, but we cannot go before we are ready.
Once he is sure that Sharkbait is not going to charge in needlessly.
Mark it as another slight that they will pay for.
He then looks over at Sandara.
I feel so helpless without my armour or axes, but I really don't know whom might be able to recover them for me.
He glances over at Joran.
And whom might get his weapons so he isn't helpless either.
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Atia is startled when someone other than Asmodeus replies.
"Aww, are you sure it's the bird you want to take back to your hammock?" Syl stands in the doorway, blocking it, and thus, Atia's only way out. Her face is split into a huge grin, and she giggles the same throaty giggle you heard during the brawl yesterday. " 'I don't know why you're so worried about what I think!' " she quoted in a sing-songy voice, followed by a series of kissy sounds and more laughter. "The galley is nice and quiet, and secluded'..." Syl made an exaggerated disgusted face. "Really? You two are going going to bump uglies in the place where you make our food?" She tsked. "What would the officers think?" She smiled.
Atia's eyes go wide at the intrusion. Well, this is...not ideal. She thinks, a little foolishly. She glances around the galley for a moment and then meets Syl's gaze with an eyebrow raised. She is terrified, but she is trying very hard not to cower like a trapped animal in front of the psychotic woman. "There are several surfaces in here where no amount of food preparations take place if you're creative." She replies, trying to exude confidence she does not feel. "What do you want, Syl?" She raises her eyebrows and cracks a smile, tapping into a lifetime of verbally sparring with cruel nobility. "Need a goodnight kiss?"
Syl blinked at Atia, not having expected such nonchalance in her response. It led her to drop the playful act and go with a more direct approach, her cold eyes staring hard. "If you haven't noticed, Scourge has it out for your little boy toy. If he finds out you make him happy, what do you think he'll do to you, hmm? Give me one good reason I shouldn't tell him, right now. Because from where I'm standing, it seems like it would lead to alllll sorts of entertainment."
Noticing several mops lying around, he immediately goes and grabs two. He then heads back to the others as a horrible plan comes to him. "Yeah I can promise you I'm not going after the captain, 'Dreamer. Even I know that's suicide. But I am gonna need you all to leave. Red, Samms, I don't want you two caught up in this mess. Don't want you lashed... or worse. You too, 'Dreamer. You're gonna have to trust me, buddy. Please, I'm begging you. If this goes south like I fear it might, the rest of 'em are gonna need somebody to look after 'em - even it's in the background - because odds aren't good that I will be. I've got an idea but I'm not sure it's gonna work. But I've got to try. I can't leave her in there with that... whatever he is. I'm not so sure he's even human. I think he's more of a... monster."
Harrigan's other hand moved to her other shoulder, and his thumbs pressed into her shoulders, massaging muscles that were sore from three days of hard labor. It felt nice, but still only served to increase her tension, given the circumstances. One forefinger ran along the side of her jawline. He leaned down and spoke from right beside her ear in his deep voice. "A woman like you, a woman meant for greatness, shouldn't be wasted lugging ropes and swabbing decks. Serving me more... directly... would have its benefits. As my star ascends, yours would follow."
She was still sweating, but Destinie took deep breath to keep herself calm. And with the massage at work, it did feel tempting... but with renewed clarity she spoke.
"Wouldn't it be better for me to mingle with the swabs? If you showed favoritism now... that could turn people against me. No... you should put me in with the masses. I can help make sure they stayed satisfied with your leadership."
Once the others leave - or at least hope they leave - Joran quickly heads back to the area of the ship to where the captain's cabin is directly below him. He flips the mops over to where he's grabbing the swabbing end and the handles are pointing down. Taking a deep breath, his mind wanders to Atia for a quick moment. Atia, darlin', be my angel. I sure could use one about now. Joran then explodes into song as loud as he can while taking turns banging the ends of the mop handles on the deck.
Joran will repeat the song over and over while continuing to bang with the mops. And he'll keep going until he drops while wondering a great many things...
Before he leaves, Seadreamer comments
Don't do anything stupid, else you end up with the Cat
He reluctantly heads below decks herding both Sandara, and Samms ahead of him while he heads towards the galley to keep away from the capn and scourge.
Before he leaves, Seadreamer comments
Don't do anything stupid, else you end up with the CatHe reluctantly heads below decks herding both Sandara, and Samms ahead of him while he heads towards the galley to keep away from the capn and scourge.
Grinning half-heartedly, "You know me, buddy," he tells him as the dwarf escorts the ladies away. Joran then moves to put the plan into action...
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Syl blinked at Atia, not having expected such nonchalance in her response. It led her to drop the playful act and go with a more direct approach, her cold eyes staring hard. "If you haven't noticed, Scourge has it out for your little boy toy. If he finds out you make him happy, what do you think he'll do to you, hmm? Give me one good reason I shouldn't tell him, right now. Because from where I'm standing, it seems like it would lead to alllll sorts of entertainment."
Atia pauses for a moment. She didn't have a good answer to this - not that she wasn't good at thinking on her feet, or that she didn't value her budding relationship with Joran. She just didn't know what the woman valued, what she herself had to offer...
"A good reason? Look at me. There's not much to me. I would provide very little entertainment when it comes to torture and the like. Additionally, I have very little to offer you up front." She pauses, examining the woman. "All that being said, I would owe you. And you can do with that what you will. I'm relatively skilled at magic. and I have an 'in' in the kitchen. You would have quite a bit of power over me."