Atia runs into Joran on her way back to the galley after handing out breakfast, almost literally. "Oh! I've been looking for you," she says, a small, worried smile on her face. "Do you have a moment? I don't want to get you into trouble."
Seeing Atia head his way, the barbarian can't help but smile. Looking around before he responds, "For you, gorgeous, always. And please, darlin', I don't want you to ever think that. Never will you be the cause of getting me into trouble. Never. I pretty much do that well enough on my own unfortunately," he winks. "So what's up?"
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Seeing Atia head his way, the barbarian can't help but smile. Looking around before he responds, "For you, gorgeous, always. And please, darlin', I don't want you to ever think that. Never will you be the cause of getting me into trouble. Never. I pretty much do that well enough on my own unfortunately," he winks. "So what's up?"
Atia blushes, unused to being complimented, and glances around as well. Her movements are a little twitchy, borne of a newly-developed paranoia. She leans in to speak as quietly as she can to the barbarian: "Syl paid me a visit last night. While I was cleaning up the galley." She shudders, a frown tugging at her lips. "She saw us last night." Atia blushes even redder, her lips upturning briefly at the memory before she shakes her head and continues on. "But, uh, I don't think she's going to tell anyone. Yet. Just, you know, hold it over my head like the terrifying creature she is."
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Atia blushes, unused to being complimented, and glances around as well. Her movements are a little twitchy, borne of a newly-developed paranoia. She leans in to speak as quietly as she can to the barbarian: "Syl paid me a visit last night. While I was cleaning up the galley." She shudders, a frown tugging at her lips. "She saw us last night." Atia blushes even redder, her lips upturning briefly at the memory before she shakes her head and continues on. "But, uh, I don't think she's going to tell anyone. Yet. Just, you know, hold it over my head like the terrifying creature she is."
As Atia leans in, Joran works to concentrate on what she's saying, yet, finding it difficult because he can't help but wander back to last night with her being so near - When she touched his bicep, when she drew him back near her, the kiss that felt so fleeting - Smiling, "Yeah, that was... wait, WHAT?! Syl knows?! By the gods!" Extremely unhappy at this information, Joran takes a moment to collect himself. "Okay, well, that's horrible. Damn!" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to think. "I don't, I don't know what to do. Seeing how she knows," shaking his head, "I don't know. I guess about the only leverage we do have is, as long as she tells no one then she can toy with us at her leisure. But if she does tell someone then she loses all the power. Here's hoping she loves the power." A look of concern then washes over him as he looks upon Atia. Glancing around again, he places a comforting hand under her chin and looks into her eyes. "I will not let them hurt you because of me. I won't. I promise you that. If it comes down to it, tell them you want nothing to do with the overgrown oaf. Lie, cheat, steal, whatever you have to do to make them believe you want nothing to do with me. Please, Atia. I can't have them punish you because of me. I can't," he pleads.
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As Atia leans in, Joran works to concentrate on what she's saying, yet, finding it difficult because he can't help but wander back to last night with her being so near - When she touched his bicep, when she drew him back near her, the kiss that felt so fleeting - Smiling, "Yeah, that was... wait, WHAT?! Syl knows?! By the gods!" Extremely unhappy at this information, Joran takes a moment to collect himself. "Okay, well, that's horrible. Damn!" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to think. "I don't, I don't know what to do. Seeing how she knows," shaking his head, "I don't know. I guess about the only leverage we do have is, as long as she tells no one then she can toy with us at her leisure. But if she does tell someone then she loses all the power. Here's hoping she loves the power." A look of concern then washes over him as he looks upon Atia. Glancing around again, he places a comforting hand under her chin and looks into her eyes. "I will not let them hurt you because of me. I won't. I promise you that. If it comes down to it, tell them you want nothing to do with the overgrown oaf. Lie, cheat, steal, whatever you have to do to make them believe you...
”I think she does enjoy the power. I said as much to her when I was trying to convince her not to rat us out right then. She isn't subtle.” Atia grimaces, Syl’s terrifying smile and laugh surfacing in her thoughts.
At his touch, Atia shivers and feels her face burn even redder, but she manages to look back into his eyes with earnest determination and stubbornly replies, ”I don’t feel good about making that promise. I’m not going to stand by if I can do something. But I’ll be cautious,” She concedes the last point, a soft smile briefly flashing across her lips. ”You need to keep your head down, Joran. Scourge has it out for you. And the Captain, too.” She reaches up and covers the hand under her chin with her own, leaning into his touch. ”I want to be able to get to know you. It’ll be hard to do that if you’re hurt.” Or worse. She doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication hangs in the air between them.
Rigging CrewRatline nodded at Terry. "Ambitious goal. Some of them have been with the officers a long time, getting them to turn on friends is going to be a challenge. And even then, no way you're going to get the officers to go against Harrigan."
Terry sighs lightly. "Yeah, I know it won't be easy, and I expect to fail in some cases. The leadership here wants us against each other. Means less risk to them for treating everyone so badly. Big part of why I want to try to get the crew together."
Without Ratline
"Hey, Ming? I was given a present." He taps the dagger he's wearing. "I would rather have a sap unless we are trying to take another ship. You want this?"
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”I think she does enjoy the power. I said as much to her when I was trying to convince her not to rat us out right then. She isn't subtle.” Atia grimaces, Syl’s terrifying smile and laugh surfacing in her thoughts.
At his touch, Atia shivers and feels her face burn even redder, but she manages to look back into his eyes with earnest determination and stubbornly replies, ”I don’t feel good about making that promise. I’m not going to stand by if I can do something. But I’ll be cautious,” She concedes the last point, a soft smile briefly flashing across her lips. ”You need to keep your head down, Joran. Scourge has it out for you. And the Captain, too.” She reaches up and covers the hand under her chin with her own, leaning into his touch. ”I want to be able to get to know you. It’ll be hard to do that if you’re hurt.” Or worse. She doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication hangs in the air between them.
Taking a deep breath, Joran gives a resigned sigh. "Okay, I guess I can't really argue that. And I don't see how I can ask you to do something that there's no way in the Nine Hells I would. You're beautiful you know that? In more ways than one," he smiles. "Okay. Then we do this together. And I'll work on staying out of trouble as best as I can. For you," he declares, smiling again. Joran has to fight against every fiber of his being not to take her in his arms and replay last night. Forcing himself to mentally shake free of such fantastic thoughts, Joran glances around again. "I guess we should break this up before we get seen again. I got rat duty. If there's anything else you need or want, just let me know. I won't be far," he winks. "And let's not worry about Syl. We can't do anything about her anyway," he shrugs.
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Taking a deep breath, Joran gives a resigned sigh. "Okay, I guess I can't really argue that. And I don't see how I can ask you to do something that there's no way in the Nine Hells I would. You're beautiful you know that? In more ways than one," he smiles. "Okay. Then we do this together. And I'll work on staying out of trouble as best as I can. For you," he declares, smiling again. Joran has to fight against every fiber of his being not to take her in his arms and replay last night. Forcing himself to mentally shake free of such fantastic thoughts, Joran glances around again. "I guess we should break this up before we get seen again. I got rat duty. If there's anything else you need or want, just let me know. I won't be far," he winks. "And let's not worry about Syl. We can't do anything about her anyway," he shrugs.
Atia grins at the compliment, her stomach twisting with a mixture of nerves and joy. She, predictably, also struggled against the urge to replay the night before, wanting to pull him down by the shirt collar and drown out the overwhelming pressure of her conscious and unconscious nightmares with the feel of his lips. ”Ah, thank you. You’re…breathtaking,” she replies, then shakes her head, immediately reprimanding herself for saying such a weird thing. She takes a step back, grasping the hand on her face and weaving her fingers through his and pulling it to just a regular handhold. ”You’re right. I'll try not to worry too much. Oh, and uh… speaking of jobs,” Atia pulls out one of the biscuits, offering it to him somewhat apologetically. ”Here’s breakfast. I need to get dinner doing and see if I can kick Kroop into functionality. I’ll see you at dinner?”
-- In the Galley, After Speaking with Joran —
”Grok! Atia calls as she walks into the galley, peeking her head over into the Quartermaster’s Store, still a little bit flustered from her encounter with Joran. ”I’m going to go wake up Kroop, Grok. I need his help. I can’t keep doing this on my own. It’s okay if it isn’t today, but it’s got to give.”
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Atia grins at the compliment, her stomach twisting with a mixture of nerves and joy. She, predictably, also struggled against the urge to replay the night before, wanting to pull him down by the shirt collar and drown out the overwhelming pressure of her conscious and unconscious nightmares with the feel of his lips. ”Ah, thank you. You’re…breathtaking,” she replies, then shakes her head, immediately reprimanding herself for saying such a weird thing. She takes a step back, grasping the hand on her face and weaving her fingers through his and pulling it to just a regular handhold. ”You’re right. I'll try not to worry too much. Oh, and uh… speaking of jobs,” Atia pulls out one of the biscuits, offering it to him somewhat apologetically. ”Here’s breakfast. I need to get dinner doing and see if I can kick Kroop into functionality. I’ll see you at dinner?”
Smiling as he mindlessly accepts the biscuit, "Absolutely, darlin'. I'll be there." Watching her leave until she's out of sight, the barbarian turns in the opposite direction and takes a bite of his biscuit, repeating, "Breathtaking," while bearing quite the confident look. With a little more swagger in his step, the barbarian looks for Seadreamer.
Stopping in his tracks after not getting too far, Blast it all! I meant to ask Grok what she meant by: "I’ll tell her that’s one". Pondering what to do, Ah well, I guess it can wait. I definitely won't forget because now it's gonna bug me all day. Let's get 'Dreamer his boots.
Remembering that Seadreamer has bilge duty, "Yeah he's not gonna want these now. I'll just leave them near his hammock." Joran heads to their quarters and does just that. With that taken care of, he heads up top.
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Looking around for Terry near the rigging, he waits until he can catch the half-elf alone.
When he does so, "Hey, Quent, how'd it go with Tam? Did he say anything you could actually understand? And what about Fipps? Don't suppose he's decided to use his brain yet, has he?"
"Sorry about that," she winced. "I didn't mean to bump into you."
Owlbear's cries quiet some. His arms are raised over his face protectively but he peers through the gap between them. The man is huge, even crouched as he is, the way they chained him down here. Destinie figures he must be at least seven feet tall when standing, and even Joran would have to look up to meet his gaze. His head is slightly misshapen, and it is clear he was born with some mental abnormalities. It was rare for such individuals to survive to adulthood in a place like the Shackles, but it was clear the officers saw value in his brute strength now that he was grown....although he was still speckled with feathers and bits of tar, leftover from some horrid torment inflicted upon him before your arrival.
No one else was nearby, and Owlbear often shouted for no reason, so nobody took note of her.
Can you bot me as needed the next couple of days, stuff is still flying at me and i have to try and make order out of chaos
Dreamer spend his day down in the bilges. The work is foul and smelly, and he occasionally has to bat away a spider that crawls down from the ceiling, but he's no stranger to hard work -- and at least, down here, the officers aren't constantly watching over him, and the ones from the brawl aren't around to try and start things.
Of course, work would be easier if the damn handle, shoddily repaired from Joran's mishap on the first day, didn't snap right off partway through the shift. Katara returns to the bilges to find the thing busted, Seadreamer trying in vain to fix it.
”Grok! Atia calls as she walks into the galley, peeking her head over into the Quartermaster’s Store, still a little bit flustered from her encounter with Joran. ”I’m going to go wake up Kroop, Grok. I need his help. I can’t keep doing this on my own. It’s okay if it isn’t today, but it’s got to give.”
"Good luck," is all Grok says, with a tone suggesting she wouldn't find much.
Kroop and Grok, technically officers but given a lower status aboard the Wormwood due to their less than blind devotion to Harrigan, share a tiny cabin with two hammocks and two footlockers, and not much of anything else. Kroop is fac down in his hammock, the fat man bent backwards in a way that sure seems uncomfortable. One arm dangles free, the other is being used as a pillow, his face smushed against it, drool shining on his hairy skin. He smells like a brewery and also likely pissed himself in his sleep, if her nose is to be believed. Saying the man's name or prodding him does nothing, though his snores assuage any fears he may be dead.
"Good luck," is all Grok says, with a tone suggesting she wouldn't find much.
Kroop and Grok, technically officers but given a lower status aboard the Wormwood due to their less than blind devotion to Harrigan, share a tiny cabin with two hammocks and two footlockers, and not much of anything else. Kroop is fac down in his hammock, the fat man bent backwards in a way that sure seems uncomfortable. One arm dangles free, the other is being used as a pillow, his face smushed against it, drool shining on his hairy skin. He smells like a brewery and also likely pissed himself in his sleep, if her nose is to be believed. Saying the man's name or prodding him does nothing, though his snores assuage any fears he may be dead.
After almost a week on the ship, Atia felt that she had gone nose-blind to a lot of things. Her own smell, the smell of others, the scent of the chickens and other animals roaming the galley...but this? This scent burned her nose-hairs and it was all that Atia could do not to gag. How does Grok put up with this? She thought, incredulously.
After several pokes and prods and calling his name, Atia growls in frustration. A man this far gone surely had some internal demons to contend with, but Atia was dealing with external demons, and the kitchen was getting difficult on her own. She goes out into the galley and gets a big cup of water, then goes back in and pours it unceremoniously over the snoring man's face.
Kroop splutters and coughs awake, flailing his arms as though fending off an attack, and ends up flipping out of his hammock, sitting on the floor in a heap and looking around blearily. "Man overboard!" he slurs halfheartedly.
Kroop splutters and coughs awake, flailing his arms as though fending off an attack, and ends up flipping out of his hammock, sitting on the floor in a heap and looking around blearily. "Man overboard!" he slurs halfheartedly.
That was the next step... Atia thought, rolling her eyes. She stands in front of Kroop, arms crossed over her chest, face stern, and kicks the chef's leg lightly to catch his attention. "Ambrose Kroop, are you aware enough to understand me? Do you even remember me? Your new assistant?" She huffs, crouching down to his level and staring stony-faced at the man.
Destinie decides to proceed with caution, shuffling her feet so as to move closer without frightening the man (or keeping herself off guard). "It's okay. I won't hurt you."
Eventually, she got within arms length of the mountain of a man. It's there where she laid the back of her hand on his cheek in a relaxing manor.
"No one's thought to talk to you, huh." she spoke sadly. "Yet we're all trapped in this cage of a ship. But at least mine aren't as visible."
Cass spent most of the day working but took a few spare moments to look around for possible new confederate she seeks out Shivikah.
"Hey, noticed you mostly keep to yourself, is that just for lack of reasonable company or something deeper?" she starts "I'm Cass by the way, sorry if its a bit prying for a first introduction, I've been told I can be that way."
"Ambrose Kroop, are you aware enough to understand me? Do you even remember me? Your new assistant?" She huffs, crouching down to his level and staring stony-faced at the man.
Kroop blinked up at her stupidly for a moment, though one of his eyelids was faster than the other by just a moment, so it looked more like winking with one eye after the other. "Assistant..." he slurred. He wink blinked again. "She's a sweet little thing. Reminds my of my Tilda. Don't know a thing about cooking, though." He laughed as if that had been some great joke. Still on the floor, he rolled over on his side, curling up as if to return to sleep.
"No one's thought to talk to you, huh." she spoke sadly. "Yet we're all trapped in this cage of a ship. But at least mine aren't as visible."
Owlbear lowered his arms and looked at Destinie. "Not supposed to. Not supposed to talk." He rocks back on forth nervously. "He said. He did." He flinched a little from her touch, but mostly seemed confused by it.
"Hey, noticed you mostly keep to yourself, is that just for lack of reasonable company or something deeper?" she starts "I'm Cass by the way, sorry if its a bit prying for a first introduction, I've been told I can be that way."
The dark-skinned woman with the long dreads glanced up at Cass from where she is scrubbing the floor. "Shivikah." She returned to scrubbing. "Can't say I care to consort with anyone on this ship." She left unspoken that present company was included, which, all in all, was better than Cass feared things might have gone. Plenty aboard would have told her to go away directly.
Kroop blinked up at her stupidly for a moment, though one of his eyelids was faster than the other by just a moment, so it looked more like winking with one eye after the other. "Assistant..." he slurred. He wink blinked again. "She's a sweet little thing. Reminds my of my Tilda. Don't know a thing about cooking, though." He laughed as if that had been some great joke. Still on the floor, he rolled over on his side, curling up as if to return to sleep.
Atia pinches the bridge of her nose with exasperation and grabs the man by the shoulder, attempting to yank him back to face her again. "Oh no, you don't! Wake your ass up, Ambrose Kroop. You're right. I don't know anything about cooking, and Captain Harrigan is only going to put up with it for so long," She says to him, loudly and slowly. "I really need your help." She finishes, all but begging the man. Why am I even bothering? She thinks, frustrated with Kroop and herself.
Grok's voice came from behind Atia. "Tilda was his daughter." The tone of her voice left Atia little doubt that the story did not have a happy ending. "Think maybe you really do remind him of her. He started drinking even harder than normal last few days, since you came aboard."
Kroop was out again. Atia determined her best course would likely be to try and intervene with tonight's drinking. For today, he seemed well and truly useless.
Grok's voice came from behind Atia. "Tilda was his daughter." The tone of her voice left Atia little doubt that the story did not have a happy ending. "Think maybe you really do remind him of her. He started drinking even harder than normal last few days, since you came aboard."
Kroop was out again. Atia determined her best course would likely be to try and intervene with tonight's drinking. For today, he seemed well and truly useless.
Atia sighs heavily, nodding to Grok, and gives up for the moment. She stares down at the man, thinking about her own father - a distant man who rarely showed affection (or any feeling at all, really). She feels a pang of sympathy for Kroop and takes a moment to make sure he's situated in a way that he won't suffocate himself to death if he rolls over or vomits in his sleep.
"Well, I suppose all I can do is wait until he's sobered up more. I'll check on him again tonight." She turns a pleading expression onto Grok. "Please try not to let him go too crazy tonight. If you can. We're still looking for the thing you asked for, and who knows how the Bloody Hour will play out."
Atia spends the rest of her daytime hours preparing the night's meal, which doesn't end up going well either - she's so distracted by the litany of problems on the ship that she doesn't pay much attention to the quality of what she's making.
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Sandara & Samms
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Joran makes a point to search out the two women. Once located, "Hey, Red, Samms, I just wanted to thank you two for giving me the heads up the other night. That was mighty nice of you," he nods. "Who knows what would've happened if you hadn't. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks. I've got someone else I need to talk to. Hey, if you ladies need anything, let me know. Least I can do." He smiles. Unless they've something to say, Joran takes his leave and looks for a certain halfling...
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Rosie
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Once he manages to locate her, Joran appears a bit nervous but swallows his trepidation and approaches. "Hey, um, Rosie, I just wanted to say I'm, uh, I'm sorry for what happened on the first day. I did not see Scourge pulling that one. I wished it would've been me." He quickly holds up a hand, "And please don't cuss me, darlin'! Please?! I'm asking here. You know you're a lot cuter when you don't cuss like a sailor. Just sayin'," he gives her a wink, grinning. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. You can still hate me and wish a thousand painful deaths upon me, that's fine, but at least I got to tell you that. I got rat duty so I better get after it. If you need anything, let me know. I owe you one." Crying out loud, at the rate I'm going, I'm going to owe the whole ship! Ah well, gotta make up for my mistakes. That and return the favor to those that help me. Unfortunately, the former seems to dominate the latter.
Just before he takes his leave, "Oh and if 'owing you one' means 'stay the hell away from you' then that's no problem." He gives her a thumbs up and a wink. "Totally understandable."
Owlbear lowered his arms and looked at Destinie. "Not supposed to. Not supposed to talk." He rocks back on forth nervously. "He said. He did." He flinched a little from her touch, but mostly seemed confused by it.
"Well why not? You're human after all?" She mainly checked the face for any sense of bruising done by him. "Are you hurt? I can fix that if you want," she gave put a small smile.
"Please try not to let him go too crazy tonight. If you can. We're still looking for the thing you asked for, and who knows how the Bloody Hour will play out."
Grok grunted. "I'm not exactly a good role model in that regard. But I'll see what I can do."
Joran makes a point to search out the two women. Once located, "Hey, Red, Samms, I just wanted to thank you two for giving me the heads up the other night. That was mighty nice of you," he nods. "Who knows what would've happened if you hadn't. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks. I've got someone else I need to talk to. Hey, if you ladies need anything, let me know. Least I can do."
Samms just nods and goes back to work, Sandara sighs and steps aside with Joran for a moment. "I know Des can handle herself. I worry that I may have made the wrong call enlisting your help last night. She's been acting off all day, keeping to herself. I'm wondering if maybe she knows I sent for backup, and now she's annoyed with me for doubting her."
"Hey, um, Rosie, I just wanted to say I'm, uh, I'm sorry for what happened on the first day....
Rosie stared at him with an unreadable expression for the entirety of his speech. When he was done, she reached up and gripped a fistful of his shirt from as near to his chest as she could reach and pulled so he'd have to look her right in the eye. "You listen up, you son of a b~*$~. And you listen good." She let the ominous silence hang for a painful moment then shoved him off. "Ha, I'm just f+~%ing with you. The look on your face. Listen that wasn't the first damn time I've been whipped and won't be the last, don't sweat it. But if you ever call me cute again I'll rip your balls off. Deal?"
"Well why not? You're human after all?" She mainly checked the face for any sense of bruising done by him. "Are you hurt? I can fix that if you want," she gave put a small smile.
Owlbear nodded. "Bumped into Master. He fell. Mad. Very mad. Put tar all over, burned. Burned!" Remembering the pain agitated him, and he started rocking again. Des could see burns were still healing over much of his skin, scabbing badly where he'd picked at the tar and feathers.
The bell rang for the Bloody Hour. Last night had been punishment-free... how would tonight fare?
Samms just nods and goes back to work, Sandara sighs and steps aside with Joran for a moment. "I know Des can handle herself. I worry that I may have made the wrong call enlisting your help last night. She's been acting off all day, keeping to herself. I'm wondering if maybe she knows I sent for backup, and now she's annoyed with me for doubting her."
With a perplexed look, "You know, Red, let me talk to her because I really don't think that's the case. She's a pretty good gal, easy going, you know? If I were a betting man, I'm betting the captain did something to her. Maybe threatened her or something. Let's be honest, the captain did not pull her in there just to 'see how she was doing'. You and I both know they weren't catching up on old times. He wanted her for something. I don't know what it was but I can try and find out. I'll see if I can't catch her before dinner and I'll get back with you," he nods.
Rosie stared at him with an unreadable expression for the entirety of his speech. When he was done, she reached up and gripped a fistful of his shirt from as near to his chest as she could reach and pulled so he'd have to look her right in the eye. "You listen up, you son of a b@@~@. And you listen good." She let the ominous silence hang for a painful moment then shoved him off. "Ha, I'm just f&+@ing with you. The look on your face. Listen that wasn't the first damn time I've been whipped and won't be the last, don't sweat it. But if you ever call me cute again I'll rip your balls off. Deal?"
Smiling, "Rosie, dear, you scare the absolute hell out of me. I'd rather face ten Captain Harrigan's than one of you with a broke arm and leg. So having said that, I guess we gotta deal, you ugly backside of a pissed off jackass with the temper to match," he winks, giving her a salute and taking his leave.
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Amazingly enough, Joran actually has pretty good success in finding enough vermin. "Ol' Scourge is gonna be thrilled, I just know it. Maybe I should show him. You know, open the bag, stick his face in it and let the bugs feed." He shrugs, smiling at the thought before remembering what he promised Atia. Sighing, "Yeah I know, she makes a good point," he concedes, taking his leave.
Terry has an almost leisurely day in the rigging, talking off and on with Ratline and Ming.
Des had seen enough. She placed a hand in the burn area and whispered a chant. Once she was done, her eyes glowed white and hopefully some of the open wounds closed up. Once she was done, her eyes closed and were back to normal when opened.
"I hope that helps." With that, she walked up to continue her duties.
Cass was tiptoeing towards a rat she spotted between two barrels when a voice spoke up behind her. ”Saw you last night. Wasting supplies.” Turning, she saw the harlot from the brawl a couple days ago. ”Should count yerself lucky bein’ on a boat so free with booze. Makes me wonder why you weren’t keen on drinkin’ it – maybe it’s ‘cause you got plans to creep about at night after we’re all sleepin’ ours off. Fipps telled me some thing went missin’ from his locker the other day. I’m thinkin’ maybe that were you.” She loomed somewhat threateningly, being a good bit heavier than Cass.
"Hello, if you'd like I can pass it off to you next time!" she says "And as far as me stealing from anyone you saw how shoddy a job I did at hiding the alcohol you really think I'd do any better hiding myself?"
Katara returned to the bilges to find Seadreamer in a pickle, the handle for the pumps broken. Being a handy sort, she was able to fix thing thing eventually, after a whole lot of mucking about in the nasty water while Dreamer kept the spiders at bay. By the time the shift was done, every muscle in her body ached from the effort and she felt worn out.
Joran was good at catching vermin. He simply pretended each rat, roach, or other annoyance was one of those on this ship that he looked forward to paying back. Stomp on Scourge the roach. Snatch up Rat Harrigan. It wasn't such a bad day after all.
Ratline hit it off well with Ming and Terry, and they have a jovial enough time that for a while, they're able to forget they're on the Wormwood.
Owlbear made surprised noises as Des healed him, looking at his arms where the burns had cleared up somewhat. He didn't respond, but he sounded happy, and Des filed away that he could probably use a friend more than any of them.
Cass held her breath for a moment as she awaited the woman's reply. After a long glare, the harlot's expression morphed into a smirk. "You're right about that. Deal. Slip me your rum and I won't say nothing."
The crew assembled together for the Bloody Hour. The Captain came up onto the poop deck. "Master Scourge. Would you please tell me why the bilges of my ship are full of seawater and s$**e?
Scourge kept a straight face, the memory of his recent whipping leading him to be cautious. "Because the guttertrash assigned to pump them empty couldn't be arsed to do their f%+*ing jobs, Captain."
Harrigan nodded. "That won't do. Bilges need pumping. Send them back in. They can finish what they started instead of eating, tonight."
Atia watches the Bloody Hour stoically, making a mental note to try to figure out how to sneak 'Dreamer some food, even if it's just something left in his bunk later.
When the hour ends, Atia heads down to the kitchen to grab the meal she was going to serve. A slight scorching scent tickles her nose as she walks into the galley, and the horrible realization that she scorched the pan leaving it too close to the stove dawns on her. She takes it off of the stove, ladles out what she feels might be salvageable, and tries to add a few things in.
Unfortunately, she didn't catch in time - the meal, while edible, tastes of burnt something and isn't the most pleasant meal to consume this night.
Before she leaves the galley to go serve dinner, Atia tucks the daggers she acquired into her spell-components pouch, just to keep them out of the way - intending to give one each to Des and Cass.
Seadreamer curses slightly under his breath as he is told to go back to the bilges.
On his way he heads by the Quartermaster.
The bilge pump handle broke, do we have something that I can use to act as a handle until a new one can be made?
He looks around and points at a handle of a boarding pike.
That should work a treat for a handle.
Seadreamer will take whatever is given to use and heads down to the bilges.
---------------
Destinie
---------------
Breathing an internal sigh of relief nobody was getting lashed tonight, Joran takes a moment to search out Destinie.
"Hey, Destinie, you got a moment?" If she does, he pulls her off to the side. Crossing his arms and keeping a lookout, "You know, I never got to ask you how things went with the captain. What did he want with you? And I know it wasn't anything good because it's the captain. Plus, you seem a bit... I don't know, rattled I guess. Care to talk about it?"
-----------------
Terry
-----------------
Once his conversation ends with Destinie, Joran looks for the half-elf and makes his way to him. "Hey, Terry, how'd it go with Tam? Don't suppose he said anything you could understand, did he? Also, what about Fipps? Make any headway on him? Or is he just ready to kill us all first chance he gets? I've got my money on that last one. On Tam being right there with him too if I'm honest."
Terry shrugs. "Both went about as expected. Both are the Captain's men, Tam more-so than Fipps. And, yes, I understood what Tam said well enough. 'Bugger off' is a pretty easy concept to recognize. Shame. I thought I had started to make a connection with Fipps. I really did." Frowning, some, he looks around at everyone else, as they calm down for the night. "How are the others? I saw you running around on the deck, checking on people. I was just too far up to hear anything. That's the trade-off on being in the rigging, you really don't get a chance to do much other than be in the rigging." He shrugs.
Once the conversation with Joran winds down. "Guess I'll try talking to someone new tonight." He works his way around to Shivikah.
"Evening! I've noticed you generally avoid the old crew. I'm guessing there's a history involved of some type? I get it. Despite my efforts, they are making it hard for me to stay near them, too. Thing is, a ship can be a horribly lonely place if you can't find somebody to talk with."
Terry shrugs. "Both went about as expected. Both are the Captain's men, Tam more so than Fipps. And, yes, I understood what Tam said well enough. 'Bugger off' is a pretty easy concept to recognize. Shame. I thought I had started to make a connection with Fipps. I really did." Frowning, some, he looks around at everyone else, as they calm down for the night. "How are the others? I saw you running around on the deck, checking on people. I was just too far up to hear anything. That's the trade-off on being in the rigging, you really don't get a chance to do much other than be in the rigging." He shrugs.
"Yeah, had to round up the vermin. The others are holding up alright I guess. Just got through talking with Destinie. She's a bit rattled with that whole meeting with the captain but overall, I think she managed pretty well. Better than I would have. I'd have been keelhauled already," he states plainly.
Looking around a moment, "As far as the rest are concerned, they're holding up pretty well. As about as well as can be expected when you're a prisoner, you know?"
Stroking his chin, "Yeah that's too bad about Fipps and Tam. That means when we do get off this tub, and we absolutely will," he vows, "then we're gonna have to go through the lot of them." Shaking his head, "Ah well, so be it. We just got to remember to keep our eyes and ears on them at all times or at least as often as we can. Being the captain's thugs, anything we can do to get the jump on them will help. Especially that Syl. She's a loose cannon. I know she could flip at any time and there's just no way to tell when," he states somewhat ominously before looking to the half-elf and saying, "Trust me."
Taking a deep breath, "Hey, thanks for the heads up, Quent. Now it's just a matter of letting the others know talking to that group was a dead end and to really watch their backs... as well as each others." He gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder and takes his leave.
Atia smiles at Joran - an expression that she feels doesn't accurately convey the happiness that briefly wells up in her chest - as she heads into the hold after serving dinner, feeling a tad bit of relief on seeing him after the long day. She keeps in mind that Syl may be watching their every move, and in the interest of that, she keeps from approaching him right away, heading towards Cass.
-- Cass --
"Good evening," Atia says as she approaches the Elven woman, smiling a small, rather shy smile. She lowers her voice, pitching it so that (hopefully) only the two of them can hear. "I have something for you..." She sits next to the woman, passing her a dagger. "Just in case we get ganged up on again. Also...there's apparently a rather strong love potion loose on board the ship...haven't had any luck finding it. Be careful." Atia sighs and rolls her eyes, face drawn with concern. "There is a lot to worry about on the ship right now. How are you holding up?"
---------------
Destinie
---------------Breathing an internal sigh of relief nobody was getting lashed tonight, Joran takes a moment to search out Destinie.
"Hey, Destinie, you got a moment?" If she does, he pulls her off to the side. Crossing his arms and keeping a lookout, "You know, I never got to ask you how things went with the captain. What did he want with you? And I know it wasn't anything good because it's the captain. Plus, you seem a bit... I don't know, rattled I guess. Care to talk about it?"
The time of bloody hour always got her tense. At least in this case no one was getting lashed, so she felt slightly relaxed. At least until Joran arrived. There were a number of things that were racing on her mind. It all washed away when she had one question on her mind: "How much did Atia tell you?" she asked neutrally.
-----------------
Atia
-----------------
Cass sees Atia’s approach and grins happy to see a more talkative face. At the offer of the Dagger Cass glances down at it and murmurs quietly back “Thank you so much, but I think it might be better for me not to have it honestly, I won’t be able to use it well at all and could draw the attention of others.” she looks around before saying ”Maybe having a sidearm would be good for one of the others?” at the mention of the love potions her ears perk up a fair bit more ”That could be bad, quite bad indeed. What do we know about it, and who all knows?” finally in response to the final query Cass responds ”Honestly, better than I have any right to have expected. It seems those folks here without much station and with a few major exceptions are decent and good people is most of what I need to survive.”
-----------------
Later that night
-----------------
Cass kept a close eye on what she ate at dinner and tried to do the same for others especially those who were in the dark. After dinner was finished Cass spends a fair bit of time looking around for the potion, especially around the booze area and in the locker room.
Cass sees Atia’s approach and grins happy to see a more talkative face. At the offer of the Dagger Cass glances down at it and murmurs quietly back “Thank you so much, but I think it might be better for me not to have it honestly, I won’t be able to use it well at all and could draw the attention of others.” she looks around before saying ”Maybe having a sidearm would be good for one of the others?” at the mention of the love potions her ears perk up a fair bit more ”That could be bad, quite bad indeed. What do we know about it, and who all knows?” finally in response to the final query Cass responds ”Honestly, better than I have any right to have expected. It seems those folks here without much station and with a few major exceptions are decent and good people is most of what I need to survive.”
Atia tucks the returned dagger back away and shrugs. "There were some to go around. I have one, but I'm far more adept at magic." She leans back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Terry may be the only one who isn't aware of the potion. He's been up in the rigging all day." Atia looks over at Terry (if he's still in the area!) and raises an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to join them, if he so desires.
While they wait, Atia's smile widens a bit. "We do have a few good people here, and they make things far more bearable, I agree. The bad ones, though..." Atia heaves a sigh. "Well, you know."
The time of bloody hour always got her tense. At least in this case no one was getting lashed, so she felt slightly relaxed. At least until Joran arrived. There were a number of things that were racing on her mind. It all washed away when she had one question on her mind: "How much did Atia tell you?" she asked neutrally.
Looking mighty confused, "Atia? No, no, it wasn't... Atia? Really? Yeah I did not see that one." He rubs his chin in thought before looking back to Des. "What are you talking about, Des?" Pondering it all a moment, his eyes relax as it hits him. "So he did do something to you, didn't he? What did he do, Des? Did he hurt you? Did he try to get you to turn on us all and threaten to kill you if you didn't? If so, maybe I can help, or any of us for that matter, to help make it look like you're on his side or something. Whatever we have to do to help it appear that way we can try to do. I'm here to help. It's what I do. Well, try to do anyway." Joran seems to drift for a moment before speaking in a far-off tone, "Doesn't always work sometimes, unfortunately," and sounding somewhat somber. Several moments later he shakes himself free from wherever he was, "Anyway, um, talk to me, Des. What is it? What do you need? And let's see if we can make it happen."
Atia tucks the returned dagger back away and shrugs. "There were some to go around. I have one, but I'm far more adept at magic." She leans back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Terry may be the only one who isn't aware of the potion. He's been up in the rigging all day." Atia looks over at Terry (if he's still in the area!) and raises an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to join them, if he so desires.
While they wait, Atia's smile widens a bit. "We do have a few good people here, and they make things far more bearable, I agree. The bad ones, though..." Atia heaves a sigh. "Well, you know."
Cass begins "Fair, I just figure there's a chance someone could see it and use that against me but thank you" She finishes taking the dagger
She then continues on "Okay, we can fill him in and then get to looking" moving on to the relatively more happy topic she replies "Well, a few good folks is enough and those undecided will hopefully see that they have a choice between a rag tag group of folks who want to do away with this idiotic leadership and a group of insane murderers who think this is hunky dory I know who I'd pick" She pauses before admitting "Though I am a bit biased"
"I've seen people carrying weapons here and there...just don't go flashing it, and I'm sure things will turn out well." She shrugs, then nods along with Cass. "As am I, to be honest. Biased, that is." She grins.
While they wait for Terry:
"I saw you do a reading the other night--that was fascinating. I had read about those here and there in my studies, but I've never witnessed one in person. If you're ever up for it, I'd be interested in seeing one up close sometime." Atia smiles, leaning forward with obvious interest in the subject.
Atia smiles at Joran - an expression that she feels doesn't accurately convey the happiness that briefly wells up in her chest - as she heads into the hold after serving dinner, feeling a tad bit of relief on seeing him after the long day. She keeps in mind that Syl may be watching their every move, and in the interest of that, she keeps from approaching him right away, heading towards Cass.
As Joran approaches the mess hall in thought, he manages to look up in time and catch Atia. Instantly he returns her smile with one of his own. Man it is always a pleasure to see you, my darlin'. He nearly said it out loud but managed to refrain from that. As he watches Atia move over toward Cass, he nonchalantly scouts out for Syl, wanting to keep an eye out for her and her thug buddies before finding himself a seat. He then remembers something and quickly rises back up, making his way over to Grok.
If she's there and not passed out drunk, Joran leans in, keeping his voice low. "Hey, Grok, I was wanting to ask you about something. Now this is just between you and ol' Shark Bait, okay? Okay, anyway, you know when you gave me those boots for 'Dreamer you said: "I’ll tell her that’s one." What did you mean by that?" He takes a glance behind him just to be safe.
The time of bloody hour always got her tense. At least in this case no one was getting lashed, so she felt slightly relaxed. At least until Joran arrived. There were a number of things that were racing on her mind. It all washed away when she had one question on her mind: "How much did Atia tell you?" she asked neutrally.Looking mighty confused, "Atia? No, no, it wasn't... Atia? Really? Yeah I did not see that one." He rubs his chin in thought before looking back to Des. "What are you talking about, Des?" Pondering it all a moment, his eyes relax as it hits him. "So he did do something to you, didn't he? What did he do, Des? Did he hurt you? Did he try to get you to turn on us all and threaten to kill you if you didn't? If so, maybe I can help, or any of us for that matter, to help make it look like you're on his side or something. Whatever we have to do to help it appear that way we can try to do. I'm here to help. It's what I do. Well, try to do anyway." Joran seems to drift for a moment before speaking in a far-off tone, "Doesn't always work sometimes, unfortunately," and sounding somewhat somber. Several moments later he shakes himself free from wherever he was, "Anyway, um, talk to me, Des. What is it? What do you need? And let's see if we can make it happen."
Huh. So she read the room wrong in that case. She placed a palm on her head as she shook it. Maybe she was just tired and all.
With all that said, she signed. "You need to keep a low profile right now, while I have to make a big decision to make. Just know that you'll be safe from it," she nodded. "Actually... I need to talk to more people about this and I promise I'll tell you more about it okay?"
She gave him a hug of reassurance before setting off in search of another person involved: Sandara Quinn.
Huh. So she read the room wrong in that case. She placed a palm on her head as she shook it. Maybe she was just tired and all.
With all that said, she signed. "You need to keep a low profile right now, while I have to make a big decision to make. Just know that you'll be safe from it," she nodded. "Actually... I need to talk to more people about this and I promise I'll tell you more about it okay?"
She gave him a hug of reassurance before setting off in search of another person involved: Sandara Quinn.
Nodding as he finds himself even more confused, "Yeah. Will do," he mutters to himself as he watches her leave. Scratching the back of his head, Funny. Atia advised me of the same thing. Turning, he makes his way to dinner.
As Joran approaches the mess hall in thought...
"Just got through talking with Destinie. She's a bit rattled with that whole meeting with the captain but overall, I think she managed pretty well. Better than I would have. I'd have been keelhauled already," he states plainly.
"Well, I've no idea what happened, but I can't imagine any part of it was good. Maybe I'll ask if she wants to talk about it at all."
Looking around a moment, "As far as the rest are concerned, they're holding up pretty well. As about as well as can be expected when you're a prisoner, you know?"
"There's a secret to that, you know? Every sailor's a prisoner on every trip. Locked on a ship with no space, no privacy, no power, and the same people for what seems like forever. The only difference is how the jailor treats you. Same problem as always, just an uglier face."
"Especially that Syl. She's a loose cannon. I know she could flip at any time and there's just no way to tell when," he states somewhat ominously before looking to the half-elf and saying, "Trust me."
"The thing about loose cannons is once they start rolling across the deck nobody can control which way they go or who they roll through. Instead of trying to reduce the threat, maybe we need to work on figuring out how to get her to target the others instead? I don't have any ideas on that at the moment, but it is worth the effort, don't you think?"
Atia looks over at Terry (if he's still in the area!) and raises an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to join them, if he so desires.
Terry lifts his chin, pointing it in Atia's direction while still with Joran. "Seems like she wants my attention. I was always taught to never keep a woman waiting if you can help it, so I think I'm going to see what she has in mind." And with that Terry heads over to see what Atia wants to discuss.
"Evening! What can this poor, lost soul do for you ladies tonight?"
"Well, I've no idea what happened, but I can't imagine any part of it was good. Maybe I'll ask if she wants to talk about it at all."
"Yeah me neither. Might as well give it a try. Maybe she'll talk to you." He shrugs.
"There's a secret to that, you know? Every sailor's a prisoner on every trip. Locked on a ship with no space, no privacy, no power, and the same people for what seems like forever. The only difference is how the jailor treats you. Same problem as always, just an uglier face."
Letting out a huff, "There's definitely no arguing that one."
"The thing about loose cannons is once they start rolling across the deck nobody can control which way they go or who they roll through. Instead of trying to reduce the threat, maybe we need to work on figuring out how to get her to target the others instead? I don't have any ideas on that at the moment, but it is worth the effort, don't you think?"Pondering that a long moment, "I just don't know, Quent. Personally, I don't believe she even cares to listen to anything from anyone. I guess it wouldn't hurt to try but I know she's not going to listen to me. I tried talking to her once. It didn't go too well. If I can think of something that might turn her looking the other way then I'll let you know. I got nothing offhand right now. And if you do decide to talk to her sooner rather than later, make sure you've got a blade on you just in case. Because if she has one, she'll cut you without a second thought," he warns.
Terry lifts his chin, pointing it in Atia's direction while still with Joran. "Seems like she wants my attention. I was always taught to never keep a woman waiting if you can help it, so I think I'm going to see what she has in mind." And with that Terry heads over to see what Atia wants to discuss.
Nodding and smiling, he looks over Atia's way as Terry heads over in her direction. Crossing his arms, Joran completely loses himself and simply stares at her probably for longer than he should, smiling all the while as his mind once again races back to the other night. Eventually, he snaps out of his reverie, wondering how long he's been standing here staring at her and now feeling a bit awkward. Get it together, Joran! You're going to mess everything up! He sighs.
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Nodding and smiling, he looks over Atia's way as Terry heads over in her direction. Crossing his arms, Joran completely loses himself and simply stares at her probably for longer than he should, smiling all the while as his mind once again races back to the other night. Eventually, he snaps out of his reverie, wondering how long he's been standing here staring at her and now feeling a bit awkward. Get it together, Joran! You're going to mess everything up! He sighs.
Atia catches Joran's eye briefly while Terry is walking over and smiles, mouthing, "Later?" as subtly as she could, a hopeful expression briefly flashing across her face. She missed him and rankled at being trapped by the desire to keep hateful eyes off of them.
Terry lifts his chin, pointing it in Atia's direction while still with Joran. "Seems like she wants my attention. I was always taught to never keep a woman waiting if you can help it, so I think I'm going to see what she has in mind." And with that Terry heads over to see what Atia wants to discuss.
"Evening! What can this poor, lost soul do for you ladies tonight?"
When Terry arrives, she shifts her attention to him with a nod and a more reserved smile, keeping her voice low. "Cass and I were just catching up on the day. We thought you'd like to be in the loop...there's a philter of love loose on the ship." She pauses for a moment, leaning forward a bit conspiratorially. "These aren't love potions from the stories, either. They're bad. And there's a reward in it if we find it - getting our things back." She bites her lip, furrowing her brows with worry. "Although, at this point, I'm a little worried we might be too late...I learned about it this morning but didn't have the time to look around..."
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The look Terry provides in response to the tale of a Philter of Love lost on the ship would get even a jester punished if directed at his patron. "Riiiight. Let me guess. Bottle looks like a stylized heart, too? I can play in your snipe hunt easily enough. Not my first trip, you know. The bottle might even be real."
The look Terry provides in response to the tale of a Philter of Love lost on the ship would get even a jester punished if directed at his patron. "Riiiight. Let me guess. Bottle looks like a stylized heart, too? I can play in your snipe hunt easily enough. Not my first trip, you know. The bottle might even be real."
Atia blushes a little and frowns with mild embarrassment. "Well, yeah...that's what Grok said..." She leans back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest with a little bit of a huff, looking at her feet thoughtfully. "Mmmm...she also drinks a lot..." She finally sits up and looks back at Terry with a chagrined smile, shaking her head. "It's possible that I've been a bit gullible."