On Deck
As Joran gets to work swabbing the decks, he manages to catch sight of Atia looking not very thrilled about something. Looking around a moment, he nonchalantly makes his way over toward Atia as he swabs. Wondering what it is she's looking at and why she seems quite perturbed, "Everything all right, Atia? Something the matter?"
Still rubbing saltwater from her face, Atia looks up at Joran, then casts a surreptitious glance beyond the large man, not wanting to catch Scourge's attention. "Fishguts is drunk again, the second day in a row, and of course, today the Captain would like some fresh turtle soup. Some leatherbacks are supposedly in our current, but I can't see anything through this gods-damned sea spray." She pauses her mini-rant, tilting her head back and blinking hard several times before the salt finally washed out of her red-rimmed eyes. A small smile creeps across her face and she lets out a sigh of relief, looking back up at Joran.
"If I had my pouches...I could definitely catch one of these things...if they even exist." She turns away and leans out over the railing again, looking in the other direction to try to spot the rumored turtles.
Thinking a moment, Joran takes a quick glance around, still swabbing - albeit at a much slower pace due to his lack of concentration - before saying, "You want me to go get 'em for you? I can get 'em. But I'll be honest, I'm a little concerned on two fronts. If I get them for you and Scourge gets pissed, he may lash you. I don't want you getting lashed. But if you aren't able to get them, they may lash you anyway. OR," another thought occurs to him, "they may lash me. Which would actually be perfect because I don't really care about that. If you look at my chest and my back, you'll notice it wouldn't be the first time," he winks. He then returns to swabbing with a little more purpose. "It's your call, dar...," he pauses, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip and grinning, remembering Katara's anger. "Atia. Sorry, habit. Just say the word and I'll dive in and get 'em for you. I told you if you ever needed anything, I'd help you as best I can and I meant that," he tells her, giving her a nod of affirmation.
Day 3; under deck; daytime
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
With a yawn Ming woke to the ship's bell calling everyone to deck.
She got out of her hammock and stretched, yawning more, tasting her own bad morning breath with a grumbling stomach.
Ahhhhhh, a new dawn, a new day, could be all so wonderful. Let's see what pleasant surprises this one holds.
She then stumbles onto deck, looking out for anything to eat.
on deck
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
On deck, she runs into Atia and Joran, overhearing their conversation.
Ah good morning to you, lovely lady. If i remember correctly, you're in charge of the breakfast buffet onboard. Got anything? Perhaps some dried bread with maggots? Or other good specialties? Anything at all?
She looks hungry and pleading.
What's that about turtles? I'm not bad at swimming, perhaps i could help, if i can find the time. If the ship will sail on in the meantime, we need to figure out a way how to catch them from aboard, or go into the water on ropes and tied up boats. Else we would be left floating in the ocean.
Talking of food, her stomach grumbles even more and she begins to drool a bit.
Day 3 (I'm pretty sure?); Daytime; On Deck
Atia does glance at Joran’s chest for a moment when he mentions it, the sunburn across her cheeks and nose flushing a deeper red. She looks back up at him and vehemently shakes her head no at the offer. "Absolutely not - I will not have you getting lashed on my behalf. I have a spell that would help, but I need some components for it." She thinks for a moment: head down, squeezing her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, an old habit from her studying days.
At Ming’s approach, Atia looks up at her, bristling slightly, irrationally, at the interruption to her thoughts. ”Uhh…yes, I do have breakfast. Blessedly, maggot-free,” she says, offering the Tian woman her fair share of the morning rations. Atia smiles a bit thinly and inclines her head politely at the offer of help, then shakes her head. ”I don’t want you to receive any lashings for shirking your duties, either.”
She shifts her attention back to Joran, grinning. ”But, I did remember what I needed for the spell, and they’re all in the galley. And…I could use your help as a distraction when I get back up here with the stuff I need. If you’re around” She leans in, touching Joran’s forearm, and adds on quietly: ”Ah…I don’t mind the ‘darlin’ stuff. That’s just Katara’s rule.”
Before Joran has a chance to reply to the last bit, Atia runs off rather quickly to finish distributing breakfast, waving goodbye to Ming as she passes.
----
Day 3; Daytime; Galley
After finishing her breakfast rounds, Atia swings by the hold to grab her spellbook from her hammock, then returns to the kitchen, rummaging through some of the things in the cabinets and pulling out a tiny bag. She examines it, wipes some of the unknown dust out of the interior, and then snags a small candle from a drawer. ”Perfect.”
Atia will make her way back up to the deck, and look around to see who’s around and where the best place to cast her spell might be. Her spellbook and the components are tucked under her arm as inconspicuously as possible.
"Think of it like a dream," The oracle clarified. "You may remember some things that happen, but things are fuzzy. And it's easier to forget what happens once you wake up. I... try not to be put in situations like that. That's bound to get people to think outreach crazy.""Interesting. And you won't get me to thinking that's crazy. Have you seen the psychos running this tub?" he winks. "See you around the ship," he nods, grinning, before looking for Terry...
"Oh you don't have to remind me." she chuckled before waving Joran off. [i]Not as bad as she thought. With that in mind, she set off to do some swabbing.
‐------------------------------Deck
Eventually she saw Atia moving around suspiciously on the deck.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked the wizard as she met up with her.
Day 3 (I'm pretty sure?); Daytime; On Deck
Atia does glance at Joran’s chest for a moment when he mentions it, the sunburn across her cheeks and nose flushing a deeper red. She looks back up at him and vehemently shakes her head no at the offer. "Absolutely not - I will not have you getting lashed on my behalf. I have a spell that would help, but I need some components for it." She thinks for a moment: head down, squeezing her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, an old habit from her studying days.
She shifts her attention back to Joran, grinning. ”But, I did remember what I needed for the spell, and they’re all in the galley. And…I could use your help as a distraction when I get back up here with the stuff I need. If you’re around” She leans in, touching Joran’s forearm, and adds on quietly: ”Ah…I don’t mind the ‘darlin’ stuff. That’s just Katara’s rule.”
As a fantastic smile forms, "You got it. I'll be looking for you when you return. Just throw me a nod and I'll think of something," he winks, returning to his duties.
Atia looks a little surprised to see Destinie approach, but not unhappy. She smiles warmly at the woman and nods a little bit. "I need to cast a spell to catch a turtle," She replies, surreptitiously looking over Destinie's shoulder to catch sight of Joran. She focuses back on Destinie quickly, smiling apologetically. "Ah, sorry. Context. The Captain wants turtle soup for dinner. Apparently, there are leatherbacks in our current. I'm having some trouble locating them, so I'm hoping this spell will help."
She pauses again, brows furrowing with a little worry. "I don't want my spellbook to get 'lost' or stolen because of this, so...I'm trying to be circumspect," She adds, quietly.
Night 2, Evening, Gally
Cass listens closely but again can't help but chuckle slightly at Tiffer's exuberance. As she finishes her appeal Cass says "Tiffer, like I said earlier you don't have to worry about that. folks can be s&%* but we'll find some decent ones around." she continues in a slightly lower voice "Seems like half the people on this dammed ship want off just as much as us if not more" When she's given the schematic she takes a few moments and examines it trying to determine what it is before asking "Help me out here, what am I looking at. Sorry I've never been great with the whole engineering thing"
Day 3, Morning, Quarters
Cass awakes a bit before the morning bell still feeling the aftereffects of the rum rations from the night before. she takes a few minutes to gather her bearings before getting up and trying in vain to tame her hair slightly. and heading up to the Deck where she stands with Tiffer during the daily call to show her that she still has allies and friends on the ship.
After the call she heads down to start her work.
Earlier on day 2, evening, gally
Terry
Once they are handed their rum rations, Terry seeks Cas. "Thank you, for the healing. Your . . . method caught me by surprise. I'll try to keep a more open mind."
"Of course. You saved me a few blows in that fight and looked pretty well knocked up so I figured it was the least I could do." She pauses a moment before adding "I know you have a loaded past with fate and destiny and all that, so I won't bring them up unless you want me to. But, if you ever are ready to think about it again you know where I'll be. No pressure at all."
Atia looks a little surprised to see Destinie approach, but not unhappy. She smiles warmly at the woman and nods a little bit. "I need to cast a spell to catch a turtle," She replies, surreptitiously looking over Destinie's shoulder to catch sight of Joran. She focuses back on Destinie quickly, smiling apologetically. "Ah, sorry. Context. The Captain wants turtle soup for dinner. Apparently, there are leatherbacks in our current. I'm having some trouble locating them, so I'm hoping this spell will help."
She pauses again, brows furrowing with a little worry. "I don't want my spellbook to get 'lost' or stolen because of this, so...I'm trying to be circumspect," She adds, quietly.
"Turtles?" That got an odd look out of her... until Atia explained why she was looking for it.
"Okay, that does make more sense," she chuckled in response. "I hope you're doing okay so far. This has to be different from what you're used to in Cheliax."
She pondered then began to walk. "Come on. If we keep walking it'll look like we're just talking."
"Turtles?" That got an odd look out of her... until Atia explained why she was looking for it."Okay, that does make more sense," she chuckled in response. "I hope you're doing okay so far. This has to be different from what you're used to in Cheliax."
She pondered then began to walk. "Come on. If we keep walking it'll look like we're just talking."
Atia giggles a little bit in response and nods, falling into step behind the other blonde. "This certainly isn't how I expected to end up on a pirate ship, nor is it an ideal placement...but I am adjusting. The galley is isolating. I'm used to being around a lot of people. How have you been handling things?"
In the galley, Atia pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand, the other on her hip, and nods at the poison-taster. "Sure, sure. Just hunt and cook a turtle. Got it. Thank you, milady." She offers a slight bow from the waist. "My name is Atia. Pardon me for not introducing myself sooner."
"Yeah...I don't really care. It's like naming farm animals...why bother, when they aren't going to be around for long?" She gave a little shrug and hopped off the counter. "Good luck, little chicky." She booted one of the free roaming chickens out of her way with a SQUAWK to punctuate her point and left the galley.
Hey, mate... 'Tis my third day here now. You should be smilin' a lot more for having me' company! - she smiles to him, friendly, and even honestly worried - 'Ya know, one of me' new friends is Chelish too, like 'ya "adoptive" father. Atia, the girl by the kitchen helping tha' cook.
Jack smiled at her comment about smiling. "I am sorry for not conversing more yesterday. With all of the morning's...excitement...I will admit I kept my distance out of nervousness. I...erm...I made you something, last night. If it is not too presumptuous of me." He rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a piece of bone about the size of a hardtack biscuit. Carved darkly into the bones was an image of such artistry, Katara could not do much but stare for a moment. It was an image of Besmara, as she was typically drawn, with long dark hair and rapier drawn, the jolly rodger symbol in the background. Only, he'd somehow managed to make Besmara's face look like Katara. "It is called scrimshaw," Jack explained anxiously. "The method of carving it, I mean. You mentioned Besmara taking you in, so I thought you might like a reminder that she still with you. Perhaps it will bring you luck?"
----------------------
When Katara heads to the store, she finds Grok in the process of portioning out the evening's rum rations. "Ah, back, eh?" Grok grinned. "Why, I'm betting that means you 'earned' a bit of coin or trade."
"Help me out here, what am I looking at. Sorry I've never been great with the whole engineering thing"
Last Night: "Oh! Well right now it's nothing. Work in progress, But I'm working on designing a shipboard ballista that's easier to load. See this trough right here? The idea would be you could slot multiple ballista bolts in at once and it would sort of reload itself after each shot. Still working out some of the kinks, though." Tiffer explained.
Atia giggles a little bit in response and nods, falling into step behind the other blonde. "This certainly isn't how I expected to end up on a pirate ship, nor is it an ideal placement...but I am adjusting. The galley is isolating. I'm used to being around a lot of people. How have you been handling things?"
"Turtles?" That got an odd look out of her... until Atia explained why she was looking for it."Okay, that does make more sense," she chuckled in response. "I hope you're doing okay so far. This has to be different from what you're used to in Cheliax."
She pondered then began to walk. "Come on. If we keep walking it'll look like we're just talking."
Destinie's smile turned into a weary sigh in response. "For someone who hasn't set foot in a ship until recently... okay. I definitely chose the wrong outfit. And I can't get through to most people on this ship, mostly because they already know I don't have boating experience. Sandara's the only one I've manage to connect with so far. Not to mention my hair feels like it's falling apart in the seems." she ended her rant with a huff.
Atia grumbles with frustration, commiserating with the other woman. "I understand. I have none of that experience, either. I finger-combed my hair last night and this morning and it's still awful. I tried braiding it to see if that would help."
She stops, having found what she believes might be a good spot on the deck, and looks around for Joran again. "Now, we need a distraction..." She says, more to herself than anything. "Joran said he'd help me with that...just need people to be looking elsewhere for a moment."
Cass, night before
He chuckles and lowers his head, shaking it as he does. "Well, I don't know that I'm ready to go quite that far, but, thank you, again."
Joran, Day 3
"I worked on the most basic line possible. I pointed out that a crew that works together makes more money than one that gets prodded into fighting against itself, and then offered that maybe the new guys would rather make money. Have to start somewhere to build a rapport, and that seemed like a point that he might hold onto. Guess we'll find out. Actually, I'm planning on trying the same tack with Tam later today. Hope he's at least as receptive. Not sure I want to get close enough to Syl to even try, though. She disturbs me, and I don't mean the same way a really good whore does."
Day 3, rigging work, Tam
As he goes about his chores of tending to the auxiliary sails, Terry makes a point of trying to reach out to Tam, exactly as he told Joran he would. "Hey, Mate? I'm not sure I understand how you got left out in the wind like that yesterday. Doesn't seem right. If we're going to be a successful ship, we do need to follow orders, but we also need to work together. A pirate's job is to make money, not fight the other pirates. You need the other pirates to keep it easier to make that money in the first place! While I'm not sure this is the ship I would have picked to sign onto, I agree with the goal. Let's go make some money. We should be working together to do that, don't you think?"
Joran swabs near Seadreamer, "Hey, 'Dreamer, you like singing?" he cuts him a wry grin. "Gonna need your help in assisting one of our own, buddy. Just follow my lead." Joran then continues on with his swabbing.
He then looks around to see if he notices Sandara while he swabs. If so, he works his way over to her quite methodically. While working, "Hey, Red, one of ours needs some cover. How's your singing voice?" he winks. "If you're up to it, just follow my lead." Joran then slowly turns and works his way back as normal.
Managing to catch sight of Atia, he moves to where Scourge can see him clearly...
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Clearing his throat, Joran starts his song and swabs with the rhythm...
"Now we are ready to sail for the Horn
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Our boots and our clothes, he raises a barefoot and bangs on his bare chest during this line,
are all in the pawn
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!
Heave a pawl, oh heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!
Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Where the pretty young girls all come down in their frocks, the barbarian nearly screws up and cuts his attention in the direction toward Atia,
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!
Heave a pawl, oh heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!
Come breast the bars, bullies, heave her away
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Soon we'll be rolling her down through the Bay
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!
Heave a pawl, oh heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!"
Once it ends, Joran shoots a wink toward Scourge and then gets back to swabbing normally.
Jack smiled at her comment about smiling. "I am sorry for not conversing more yesterday. With all of the morning's...excitement...I will admit I kept my distance out of nervousness. I...erm...I made you something, last night. If it is not too presumptuous of me." He rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a piece of bone about the size of a hardtack biscuit. Carved darkly into the bones was an image of such artistry, Katara could not do much but stare for a moment. It was an image of Besmara, as she was typically drawn, with long dark hair and rapier drawn, the jolly rodger symbol in the background. Only, he'd somehow managed to make Besmara's face look like Katara. "It is called scrimshaw," Jack explained anxiously. "The method of carving it, I mean. You mentioned Besmara taking you in, so I thought you might like a reminder that she still with you. Perhaps it will bring you luck?"
Jack, mate... - she looks shocked for a moment - You honor me with it! 'Tis incredible work! Where did you learn this... Crim shan? Scrimshaw? I'll treasure it forevah'!
She honestly likes the work; while on the back of her mind she was thinking where the materials would have come from (or who the bones belonged to), in truth she was in awe for it. Her devotion for Besmara was as real as the seas were salty, and the small object almost felt like a holy symbol for her.
Thanks for it. Don't worry about yesterday... I was glad 'ya didn't get caught on all tha' ado. I wonder if I can hang it in a necklace? - she completes, back to admiring the artistry.
----------------------
When Katara heads to the store, she finds Grok in the process of portioning out the evening's rum rations. "Ah, back, eh?" Grok grinned. "Why, I'm betting that means you 'earned' a bit of coin or trade."
My oh my, ain't you brawls AND brain? - Katara smiles friendly towards Grok; she really somewhat admired the half-Orc and her style - Yeah, did find sum' coins laying around. Guess Besmara fortunes the salties, right?
She leans against a wall and for a second tries to read if the goddess name had had any effect.
I don't want to take much of yarr' time, mate. But I guess we may have some minutes... Sum'day you gotta tell me your stories. How did you end up here. Who were you b'fore Harrigan give you this current... opportunity.
She pauses, hoping to make an impression - while she was genuinely interested in hearing about Grok's past and get a feeling of where the quartermaster's alliances would ultimately lie, she was also trying to sweet her deals with her and create a powerful ally in the ship.
Joran, Day 3
"I worked on the most basic line possible. I pointed out that a crew that works together makes more money than one that gets prodded into fighting against itself, and then offered that maybe the new guys would rather make money. Have to start somewhere to build a rapport, and that seemed like a point that he might hold onto. Guess we'll find out. Actually, I'm planning on trying the same tack with Tam later today. Hope he's at least as receptive. Not sure I want to get close enough to Syl to even try, though. She disturbs me, and I don't mean the same way a really good whore does."
Chuckling, "Yeah, you ain't kidding about Syl. I tried talking to her the other night but she's too far gone. At least, outwardly anyway. As far as Fipps and Tam are concerned, you're right about that. If we can just get them to question what's better for them; because when the opportunity presents itself for us to get off this tub, we just need them to remain neutral, then that's a half-dozen thugs we don't have to deal with. But if not, I'll guess we'll just have to kill 'em all," he concludes, shaking his head and shrugging. "Anyway, good idea on attempting to talk to Tam. Can't hurt. The only thing about Tam is, I don't understand a blasted word he says. If you manage to figure out what he's saying, let me know. I'm actually curious if anyone understands him," he gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder and nods, turning and heading for duty.
Atia grumbles with frustration, commiserating with the other woman. "I understand. I have none of that experience, either. I finger-combed my hair last night and this morning and it's still awful. I tried braiding it to see if that would help."
She stops, having found what she believes might be a good spot on the deck, and looks around for Joran again. "Now, we need a distraction..." She says, more to herself than anything. "Joran said he'd help me with that...just need people to be looking elsewhere for a moment."
"I think I need to bring it in this time around. Never needed to do so before, but I'll probably need to do so if I want it in one piece."
She did notice that Atia was looking around for something but it didn't occur to her what it was until it was stated.
"So that's why you were looking about for. I didn't think you of all people would trust him for that."
Between her time with Varisians and other pirate in her home town, she was used to the usual bawdy pirate song, but she was curious to see how Atia would react. "I don't suppose you've had your fill of saucy songs back in Cheliax, did you?"
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Atia hears the distraction Joran has set up and gapes for a moment. "Oh my god, you madman." She whispers, glancing at Destinie to see her reaction before opening her spellbook to the appropriate page, lighting the candle and performing a series of rapid gestures that ended with her pinching above the tiny bag and pulling out, as if it were a trail of smoke following her fingertips, an extraplanar Eagle. It perched on the rail of the deck, glaring at her above a wicked, curved beak.
"Find the leatherbacks in our wake!" She commands it, gesturing at the waves being cut out of the ocean by the ship.
"I think I need to bring it in this time around. Never needed to do so before, but I'll probably need to do so if I want it in one piece."She did notice that Atia was looking around for something but it didn't occur to her what it was until it was stated.
"So that's why you were looking about for. I didn't think you of all people would trust him for that."
Between her time with Varisians and other pirate in her home town, she was used to the usual bawdy pirate song, but she was curious to see how Atia would react. "I don't suppose you've had your fill of saucy songs back in Cheliax, did you?"
"I think he's the type who enjoys it when people underestimate him," She replies to Destinie's comment about Joran with a wry smile, nodding. "And, he offered. Very earnestly."
When Destinie comments on the song, Atia replies right before casting her spell: "I'm, uh...a bit ignorant in this regard." She says, her sunburn darkening across her cheeks again. What little enjoyments she had pursued as a young girl had been heavily monitored by her parents to keep her from embarrassing the family, as they had done with all of their children.
Yeah, I don't believe the luck Terry's had with the dice bot either. More than happy to do things this way in order to create confidence I'm not picking targets after I see the roll! What you're not seeing is how badly some of my other characters are being tanked by the dice bot at the same time, but, no sweat. Now, of course, the dice will tank just to make me look bad. <grin> And I know you'll deny that's the reason for the change, but the luck has been too good, too right on the money, not to cause SOME question. I'm not so foolish as to miss the flag being raised.
We should be working together to do that, don't you think?"
"Oh, just do one will ya, ya rank nobhead." The tone suggested Tam was telling you to bugger off.
A motherf+*@ing sea shanty
Sandara grins as Joran's voice rings out, and by the second line she's joined in with him. By the second verse, a handful of other, including Rosie, Tiffer, and Samms are singing along, and not long after that half the crew is. It works. Scourge is just scowling at Joran, and no one is paying any mind to Atia.
I wonder if I can hang it in a necklace?
Jack blushed at the praise. "My father taught me. The real one, when I was young. There are always plenty of fish skulls left after meals, I use pieces of them. After cleansing them, of course! It should not have much smell to it. I could bore a hole through the top, should you wish to tie a cord to it?"
---------Grok seems all too happy to chat about herself, and you sense she may have helped herself to some of the rum she was filling. "Ha! I know Harrigan's a hardass, but I've had it worse, believe me. See this?" She indicated a wicked scar that encircled her throat. "Some nice men gave me that when I was eleven. Had all sorts of things to say about my heritage. Let's just say having an orc for a daddy ain't all it's cracked up to be, even when you never meet him." She chuckled. "So uh...what're ya in the market for?"
"Find the leatherbacks in our wake!" She commands it, gesturing at the waves being cut out of the ocean by the ship.
A magnificent eagle wastes no time in taking to the air. It sees one of the creatures before it even leaves the railing, and strikes towards it. Leatherback turtles are quite large, and the eagle attempts to snatch it...but it poofs out of existence a moment later.
Something odd happens, then. The parrot, that had been perched on the sweatbox two days ago, seemingly the pet of its last victim, flew out suddenly from the rigging and began flapping near the turtle the eagle had spotted. Perhaps it was jealous, and trying to show up the magical bird.
Glancing around, Atia spotted fishing nets tucked under the rail. The turtle was near enough, she should be able to ensnare it.
Atia looks momentarily confused by the parrot's appearance, watching it try to bully the eagle before it disappeared. She does not, however, want to waste any time now that she knows where it is: she tucks her spellbook into her waistband and grabs one of the fishing nets and casts it where the eagle indicated the turtles to be...
...and just barely snags one, although she finds herself struggling mightily when it comes time to actually lift the massive creature out of the water. Atia looks at Destinie in a panic, straining with the rope. "I can't get it out of the water on my own. Can you help? Or get someone?" She begs through gritted teeth, leaning back so that all her bodyweight was straining to hold on to the leatherback.
Destinie replied with an understanding smile. "They may be crude, but they help let off some steam if you're tired. In this case, he's basically telling of Scourge. It's especially appealing... or embarrassing if it's done by someone you're attracted to." And for a brief moment, her eyes laid on Sandara Quinn. "I didn't know she could sing too..."
That all ended when Ariacpractically begged her to try and grab the turtle... which turned out to be huge! She probably wasn't that much stronger, but with a bit of effort she was able to help haul in the massive turtle.
Jack blushed at the praise. "My father taught me. The real one, when I was young. There are always plenty of fish skulls left after meals, I use pieces of them. After cleansing them, of course! It should not have much smell to it. I could bore a hole through the top, should you wish to tie a cord to it?"
T'would be awesome! I mean, assuming it can be done without crackin' it. - says Katara, already thinking on finding some small thin cord around the ship to use with the art.
She talks a bit more with the young man, happy and surprised to be actually creating stronger ties in this nightmarish ship than anywhere she had been before. Besmara is probably having a big laugh about it right now!, she thinks in a smile, going back to clean some rum stains from the aft deck wood.
------------------------------------
Grok seems all too happy to chat about herself, and you sense she may have helped herself to some of the rum she was filling. "Ha! I know Harrigan's a hardass, but I've had it worse, believe me. See this?" She indicated a wicked scar that encircled her throat. "Some nice men gave me that when I was eleven. Had all sorts of things to say about my heritage. Let's just say having an orc for a daddy ain't all it's cracked up to be, even when you never meet him." She chuckled. "So uh...what're ya in the market for?"
Me' friend, I hope these men's luck run out a long time ago, and the reapers already took'em souls to whatever hell they belong to nowadays. Eleven years old? I ain't even twice that yet! 'Tis just a shy over the fingers I use ta' count!
She gives Grok some space to talk more about it or not - by her own discretion - and as the half-orc asks about what she wanted, she continues.
Well, first 'aye really wanted to get me' wooden armor back. Bah, sorry, any wooden armor would work ta' be honest, I didn't care for the other one anyway. - she starts, quickly remembering that anything she had before, doesn't belong to her anymore - Plus, sum' daggers. No, I'm not looking far' trouble... It's just protection, you know well. 'Bout three daggers would do tha' trick, or even a rapier if you'd ask me fair coins for it.
She gives a smile to Grok; she was very much willing to negotiate, but probably wouldn't push her luck too far.
Atia and Destinie manage to haul the turtle aboard, using the rail as a pulley of a sort. The crature struggles within the net, and Atia realizes she has her work cut out for her -- killing, butchering, and figuring out how to cook the unlucky beast. It's not the cutest creature, but this was not a task she had a lot of experience in. She notices, from the poop deck, Captain Harrigan has glanced in their direction as they brought their catch aboard. His expression is difficult to read, and after a moment, he disappears from view as he returns to the business of navigating, wherever they're going.
Jack smiles and takes the scrimshaw trinket back from Katara. "It will be no problem. I shall return it to you this evening."
Grok isn't keen on talking more about her near death experience, but she is keen to do business. "Let's see what we can do."
Grok unlocked a large wooden locker. An assortment of gear is within. Katara spots her own belongings among them. Grok looks through the pile. "Your armor, and three daggers." She out the wooden armor you were wearing when they captured you, and three average but solid looking daggers.
She mulls it over briefly. "On you promise to stay out of trouble...I'll give you the armor on the house. Just cover the six gold for the daggers and we'll call it a deal, kid."
Last Night: "Oh! Well right now it's nothing. Work in progress, But I'm working on designing a shipboard ballista that's easier to load. See this trough right here? The idea would be you could slot multiple ballista bolts in at once and it would sort of reload itself after each shot. Still working out some of the kinks, though." Tiffer explained.
Night 2 Gally
Cass relooks at the image with Tiffers counseling and starts to understand "Wow, that amazing!" she exclaims. handing the schematic back to Tiffer. "What was the inspiration for this?"
Day 3, Afternoon, Gally
Cass seeks out Tilly to meet with her having seen her previously conversing in a seemingly friendly way with the others. when she finds her Cass says "Afternoon! I saw you talking with Terry a few days back, how has our arrival affected life here and how long you been here?
Joran works his way back again in the direction of Atia, curious if she was successful. He subtly cuts his eyes toward her as he swabs, seeing her and Destinie fight to get the turtle to the deck. "C'mon, c'mon, y'all can do it," he quietly cheers. Not a moment later, they finally get the massive beast up and onto the deck. With a beaming smile, "Way to go, darlin', way to go." Joran then continues his swabbing, heading back the other way once again.
On Deck
Atia catches the Captain's glance, making eye contact with him for a brief moment before she quickly turns back to her task at hand. It was hard to tell if he was pleased or disappointed that she had managed to accomplish the task, albeit with help. She supposed she would find out this evening.
As she begins dragging the leatherback towards the stairs to the galley, she looks at Destinie and smiles. "Thanks for your help...and the conversation," She says, punctuating the pause with a grunt of exertion as she begins to drag the creature towards the stairs nearest the galley. "I won't forget it. I can take it from here. Don't get into trouble on my behalf."
She glances over at Joran for just a moment as she's dragging the creature, reminding herself to thank the big man for his help later, too.
---
In the Galley
When Atia finally gets the creature in, she braces herself for the horrifying task of getting the turtle ready for dinner and preparing the dinner for the rest of the crew. She flips through the cookbook she had found before, surprised to find several recipes for turtle meat, and gets down to business.
Katara smiles to Grok, and then produces seven gold pieces and carefully organizes them over the table.
Thanks, mate! Like I told 'ya, I'm not really good at counting with me' fingers. I'm skinny but these things are as fat as manatees. I'm sure tha' Captain will check that these *six* gold coins perfectly make it ta' the chest.
She blinks, collects the purchases, then immediately takes a minute to don her armor under the clothes. The kineticist carefully hides the daggers on the same sack of coins she brought, bids farewell, then leaves to stash the belongings and get back to the chores.
Her her part, she managed to match the stare of the Captain... for only a brief moment before continuing to help Atia get the giant turtle onto the ship.
With that done she quickly nodded before scurrying back over to the deck to continue swabbing, not wanting to get flack for not doing her work for even a couple minutes.
Dexk
She went back to swabbing and decided to make more friends. If Terry had luck with Fipp, maybe she would have the same luck with Aretta.
She thought she had e eeything planned out: breaking the ice with something about the brothels in Riddleport. Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance.
When walking towards the woman, she slipped on some of the water and ended up bumping into her. To her credit, she did try to put her hands out in innocence.
"Sorry... should have checked the floor there," she replied with a wince. "I thought we could just leave each other alone after last night... okay?"
On deck
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To Atia:
Nah don't worry, i got the rigging covered. Can help you while pretending to change masts. Have you ever cooked turtle before? Be sure to drain the blood completely, but safe it! It's a very healthy drink and you add a bit later into the soup to make it thicker and for the taste!
Thanks for the breakfast!
Ming helps with catching the turtle, then climbs up the rigging to do her days work.
In the rigging
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Once in the rigging, she tries to talk to Samms casualy, mainly about food. Food is always a good topic. But also about the dwarf.
Samms, i know we didn't have the best start, but i want to talk to you about your friend the dwarf. He was among some other who tried to attack me and the other new "sailors". Why do you think he did that?
Also will this go on every day? Where is the ship even sailing too?
Joran, quite relieved and glad with Atia's success, swabs with a newfound energy for the rest of the day. Pretty much working with a grin the rest of the day, the barbarian is ready to call it quits until...
...he winds up catching a spot that causes the swab to hang. Looking over at Scourge, he smiles and nods - albeit a bit uncomfortably - before looking back to the swab and attempting to work it free with the handle. Unable to do that for some unknown reason, he leans over to tug it free, using the swab handle as leverage. As he does, he snaps the thing IN HALF! before hitting the ground himself with a loud thud and his hair falling over his face. He obviously didn't realize how everything on this boat is made of absolute junk. Punching the deck in anger, he takes a deep breath and eventually pushes his hair back before looking over at a demonic smiling Scourge. Subtly shaking his head in utter frustration, You gotta be kidding me.
Cass relooks at the image with Tiffers counseling and starts to understand "Wow, that amazing!" she exclaims. handing the schematic back to Tiffer. "What was the inspiration for this?"
Tiffer went on to explain to Cass how long it takes to load a ballista on a ship, so she figured a self-loading one would be as good as doubling or tripling how many were mounted to the ship, in terms of firepower. She goes on and one about the logistics of the machine itself, as well as how to calculate the trajectory the bolt will fire.
Cass seeks out Tilly to meet with her having seen her previously conversing in a seemingly friendly way with the others. when she finds her Cass says "Afternoon! I saw you talking with Terry a few days back, how has our arrival affected life here and how long you been here?
Tilly glanced up from her work at Cass. "Man, is this like, an interview?" she asked dryly. "Feel like I'm applying for a job or something. Well let's see, the officers have always been f+~&ing a$%~**@s, but I think they're not used to nearly doubling the size of their crew in one batch of kidnappees, so. They've really upped things last few days. Never seen Scourge get whipped before, that was honestly pretty funny. I've actually been here longer than most of the other lowly sailors -- got snatched same as you, along with a handful of the others. Barely had the hands to sail this thing, apparently the Captain got his last crew nice and dead."
When Atia finally gets the creature in, she braces herself for the horrifying task of getting the turtle ready for dinner and preparing the dinner for the rest of the crew. She flips through the cookbook she had found before, surprised to find several recipes for turtle meat, and gets down to business.
The parrot that had so helpfully pointed out the turtles flew over and landed squarely atop Atia's head while she dragged the turtle below to the galley. "Help! They turned me into a parrot!" it squawks. Apparently the former owner had a sense of humor before his untimely demise. It seemed clamped into her hair pretty well, so Atia hoped it did not relieve itself and continued on her way.
Killing the turtle was the hard part. It was looking at her. She found a butcher knife that was more like a machete (and made a note that could come in handy as a weapon for someone, like the dagger she'd found the other day), closed her eyes, and hacked the poor thing's head off. Ming popped her head in, giving some turtle related tips, and the thought of drinking turtle blood made Atia a touch queasy. Still, she took the advice on draining it, hanging it to bleed out while she prepared the other ingredients. There was a drain on the floor near the slaughter block that drained into the bilge to be pumped out. She spent the next several hours figuring out how to open the shell and which parts of the meat to harvest, then cooking up a big batch of the soup for the whole crew. It was odd, with some cuts of meat resembling pork and other bits more fishy, but it was tasty enough, and a welcome change from the usual fare.
She thought she had everything planned out: breaking the ice with something about the brothels in Riddleport. Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance. When walking towards the woman, she slipped on some of the water and ended up bumping into her. To her credit, she did try to put her hands out in innocence. "Sorry... should have checked the floor there," she replied with a wince. "I thought we could just leave each other alone after last night... okay?"
"Leave each other alone, after you gone and shoved me? I'd like to finish what Syl started and claw both yer eyes out but you ain't worth a whipping." She spat on Des's feet and moved away.
Samms, I know we didn't have the best start, but I want to talk to you about your friend the dwarf. He was among some others who tried to attack me and the other new "sailors". Why do you think he did that? Also will this go on every day? Where is the ship even sailing to?"
Samms looked over at Ming. "Ah, so you do know how to hold a normal conversation. That's the least weird thing you've said yet. Old Tam goes way back with the officers. Served with Scourge and Plugg a long time, been through all sorts of scrapes together. He's loyal. So when they put a bullseye on you lot, he went along. Truth told I was leaning that way myself, but most of you seem like hard workers. Saw that waif of a girl and the other pretty blonde haul a godsdamned half ton turtle onto the deck. Still think you're a bit weird, but I suppose most folks is." She gave a hint of a smile, which looked to be about the most she ever did. "An' yeah, this is pretty much it. Wake up, do the work, eat, sleep, repeat. Sometimes we'll spot a ship worth plundering, and you'll wish it was just another boring day when all's done. Sometimes we put ashore for supplies. But mostly, it's like this. Don't know where we're heading, Captain don't bother telling anyone ain't his officers."
Thanks to Ming's tips, Atia only needed to spend a little bit of time scrubbing the blood off of her arms as best as she could - very little had spattered on to her clothing, thank the gods.
After getting the turtle situated, Atia studies the parrot that rode her head in. She had set it down on a counter as she had butchered the turtle and jumped every time the bird had squawked some odd, terrible joke at her. At least that had helped distract her from the horrifying task she was methodically completing.
"Why are you following me, bird?" She quietly demands of it, pulling a bit of the edible vegetable scraps from the dinner prep out and offering it cautiously, wary of the sharp beak. "I don't want to get into trouble because you belong to someone who will get mad you're here, bird."
She at least had the awareness to move away in time to avoid the spit. One more thing to clean up, I guess, she thought. So she would get to it.
Between spending time helping Atia catching the giant turtle, using up said energy to haul it in, the lack of experience of swabbing the deck and getting shaken up with the shoddy attempt of reconciliation, it was a rough day. Try as she might, she couldn't keep up with the day's tasks and needed to lean on something just to keep standing.
Ming spends most time of the day in the rigging, working diligently, but manages to save her energy better than the day before.
"Why are you following me, bird?" She quietly demands of it, pulling a bit of the edible vegetable scraps from the dinner prep out and offering it cautiously, wary of the sharp beak. "I don't want to get into trouble because you belong to someone who will get mad you're here, bird."
The parrot squawked again. "Let me out, bastards!" the parrot intoned. Atia recalled it saying that before, as it perched upon the sweat box when they pulled a man's body out of it, before keelhauling that fellow the other day. Perhaps this bird was his pet? It certainly took to the vegetable scraps with abandon, as though it hadn't eaten in a while.
Looking over at Scourge, he smiles and nods - albeit a bit uncomfortably - before looking back to the swab and attempting to work it free with the handle. Unable to do that for some unknown reason, he leans over to tug it free, using the swab handle as leverage. As he does, he snaps the thing IN HALF! before hitting the ground himself with a loud thud and his hair falling over his face.
Scourge stares for a moment, his expression one of pure hate. "Destruction of property, Shark Bait?" he called in his scratchy voice. "Coming out of your pay, that is. Patch, how much would you say that mop cost?" He addressed his question to a gnome officer whom you'd all seen around, but had not yet chanced to interact with.
Patch smirked up at Scourge, peering over the railing of the poop deck beside him. "Ya know, boss, I'm pretty sure that map was a gift from the Master of the Gales himself. Priceless, really."
Scourge nodded. "Sounds like poor Shark Bait won't be earning a coin on this ship until the Master gifts us another one, then."
Joining in on the shanty, Seadreamers deep voice rises up along with Sharkbaits.
He continues to work while singing,
when the shanty is over, he slaps Joran on the shoulder and contines to work.
Hell of a shanty, we should try one more tomorrow.
Not recognizing the shanty, Terry listens at first, by the second verse he was lightly humming the melody, and on the third verse he was quietly vocalizing the repeated bits.
Joining in on the shanty, Seadreamers deep voice rises up along with Sharkbaits.
He continues to work while singing,
when the shanty is over, he slaps Joran on the shoulder and contines to work.
Hell of a shanty, we should try one more tomorrow.
Joran grins, "I'll keep that in mind, buddy," and throws the dwarf a wink before continuing his work.
Looking over at Scourge, he smiles and nods - albeit a bit uncomfortably - before looking back to the swab and attempting to work it free with the handle. Unable to do that for some unknown reason, he leans over to tug it free, using the swab handle as leverage. As he does, he snaps the thing IN HALF! before hitting the ground himself with a loud thud and his hair falling over his face.
Scourge stares for a moment, his expression one of pure hate. "Destruction of property, Shark Bait?" he called in his scratchy voice. "Coming out of your pay, that is. Patch, how much would you say that mop cost?" He addressed his question to a gnome officer whom you'd all seen around, but had not yet chanced to interact with.
Patch smirked up at Scourge, peering over the railing of the poop deck beside him. "Ya know, boss, I'm pretty sure that map was a gift from the Master of the Gales himself. Priceless, really."
Scourge nodded. "Sounds like poor Shark Bait won't be earning a coin on this ship until the Master gifts us another one, then."
Rising from the deck with the broken pieces, Joran simply gives the two an awkward smile and says, "Thank you, Master Scourge, Patch," in a plain and unenthusiastic way. Nodding proper, he takes his leave.
Walking away, Joran makes sure he gets close enough to the railing before tossing the broken pieces overboard. Another win for 'Shark Bait' it would appear. All I need now is to be lashed for it and we can call it a helluva day. Well the night's not over just yet, Joran, the bloody hour is still to come! The barbarian can only shake his in irritation at the thought. Ah well, Atia got her turtle, that's a huge relief. I can't - nor do I want to - imagine what would've happened if she hadn't. The big guy can - and does - breathe a sigh of relief for that at least. Stopping a moment, he looks down at his feet. You know, I've got to see if I can get my boots back.
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Grok
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Making his way to the quartermaster, "Hello! They call me Shark Bait. Don't suppose it's possible to get a pair of boots from you, is there? They're going to have to be pretty big by the way. I got big feet. You know, big guy and all," he motions to himself, raising his eyebrows as if saying: "See?" while flexing.
The parrot squawked again. "Let me out, bastards!" the parrot intoned. Atia recalled it saying that before, as it perched upon the sweat box when they pulled a man's body out of it, before keelhauling that fellow the other day. Perhaps this bird was his pet? It certainly took to the vegetable scraps with abandon, as though it hadn't eaten in a while.
Atia grimaces slightly as she remembers the keelhauling where she had first seen the bird, a real blip on the radar compared to the events of that night. She offers the parrot more scraps until it seems satiated. Poor thing. Lost its person because of this damn ship. Once it's had its fill, she dares to gently stroke its head once it has finished eating.
"Alright then, you. What is your name? and why are you following me around?" She demands. She has a vague thought that interrogating a bird probably isn't the most sane thing to do, but with everything that had come to pass in the last several days, she felt that she could get a pass for eccentricities. Just this once.
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Sorry about rolling before you called for it. I will try to remember to wait.
Making his way to the quartermaster, "Hello! They call me Shark Bait. Don't suppose it's possible to get a pair of boots from you, is there? They're going to have to be pretty big by the way. I got big feet. You know, big guy and all," he motions to himself, raising his eyebrows as if saying: "See?" while flexing.
Joran made a quick trip down to the quartermaster's store before the shift was to be done. Grok's somewhat homely features adopted an expression that he wasn't sure how he felt about. Her eyes narrowed and her smile seemed a touch on the predatory side. "Mmm, well hello beefcake," she purred in her somewhat gravelly voice. She hopped off the counter where she'd been sitting and approached close enough that he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She reached up and felt his bicep. "Big feet, you say?" She cracked a tusky grin. "What would you offer in trade, hmm?"
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Atia was pleased to find the parrot friendly, as it rubbed its head against her petting finger. "SQUAW.. Be quiet, Asmodeus."
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The bell tolled, and the shift was done. The crew looked to the poop deck, where Harrigan usually came to decree the evening's punishmnets, but tonight, he turned and retired to his cabin instead. The crew started to disperse to await their meals, and Joran and Des realized they might not be getting whipped, after all. It would seem the punishment for breaking a mop what not as severe as that of breaking a bilge-pump. The evening is yours, and tonight you dine on turtle soup.
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Joran made a quick trip down to the quartermaster's store before the shift was to be done. Grok's somewhat homely features adopted an expression that he wasn't sure how he felt about. Her eyes narrowed and her smile seemed a touch on the predatory side. "Mmm, well hello beefcake," she purred in her somewhat gravelly voice. She hopped off the counter where she'd been sitting and approached close enough that he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She reached up and felt his bicep. "Big feet, you say?" She cracked a tusky grin. "What would you offer in trade, hmm?"
Joran's eyes go wide in a panic as he turns them toward her hand squeezing his bicep. By the gods! Slowly cutting his attention back to her, "Ummm... okay," his voice cracks and he's forced to clear his throat. "Did not see this coming OKAY, what do I have to offer. What do I have to offer. That, now that, is a good question. Let me think on that a moment." He does take a moment before looking down at his pants and shivering in horror at the thought of what might happen if he were to give her those. "Okay. Well, I don't own anything, so, I mean, you know, um... Okay! Well... I've got... well... you see... Okay," he pauses, taking a breath, "Here's the thing," he holds up a finger indicating her to wait a moment.
With the panic being so blatantly obvious, Joran is so completely taken aback that he finds himself unable to come up with anything. Think, Man, think! Use that brain of yours! Be made of sterner stuff! Be confident! Just give her 'What For' in that no-nonsense manner of yours! Just be awesome! "I'm impotent," he blurts out, cringing fiercely. Really? Did you just say, 'Impotent'? THAT'S what you're going with? You're an oaf. Actually, 'oaf' is a compliment. What you are is an EMBARRASSMENT to oafs everywhere. You gotta be kidding me. Do yourself a favor and just go ask to be keelhauled.
Chuckling nervously, "Yeah, it's a... it's a terrible... you know... tragedy, or whatever. Long story and all that. You know, on second thought, I don't," he shakes his head, "I don't really need shoes. They're overrated anyway, am I right?! Hey, thanks for, you know... whatever!" he exclaims, throwing up his hands, seeing how he has no idea what he's saying anyway, while slowly backing away. "Hey, um, if you would, let's just keep this between us, hm? M-kay, thanks," he says, pointing and winking as he quickly turns and walks away at a rapid pace, glancing back multiple times to make sure she isn't following him.
Once he's made some distance, he looks around to make sure he is alone. Finding the nearest post, he grabs it and bangs his forehead against it while he berates himself. "I cannot believe YOU JUST SAID THAT! Impotent?! What the hell are you thinking, man?! Well what else was I gonna say?! I panicked! I couldn't think of anything else! Oh man this is gonna spread throughout the entire tub. I'm never gonna live this down. Here's hoping she's far too drunk to remember." The red-faced barbarian makes his way to the mess haul, shaking his head at how stupid of a bluff that was - and how embarrassing that it very well may become.
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Atia keeps petting Asmodeus affectionally, cracking a smirk. "Asmodeus, hmmm? Blasphemy!" She rolls her eyes and chuckles at her own joke, getting a kick out of the ridiculous juxtaposition of a loudmouth parrot being named for a mighty evil God, the God of her home country. "Fitting, I suppose. I'll keep you fed, As. Like a good Chelish girl." She helps the bird onto an appropriate perch in the kitchen, away from the soup to avoid any unpleasant additions to the dish.
--
When Joran enters the galley on his way to the quartermaster's store to speak with Grok, Atia is was off in the corner, rummaging through the spices to find something to add a little bit of a kick to the turtle soup. Between the sounds of her shuffling around in a cabinet, the bubbling of the soup, and the occasional chatter from Asmodeus, Atia does not hear the barbarian enter.
She pops back up to the soup bubbling away and adds a few pinches of the spice and stirs. She dips her pinky into the soup to taste it and shrugs, feeling a bit in over her head at judging the quality of a soup she had never tried before. Nothing special...It could use some acidity, but... She glances at a row of unlabeled jars with various liquids and decides that tonight is not the night to take any chances.
She moves the pots around to lessen the heat and let the turtle soup simmer to meld the flavors more until it was time to serve, and begins to walk around the corner when she hears Joran's panicked shout declaring his impotence. Atia's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline so quickly that it seems to knock her back. She stops short of rounding the corner to listen and watches, incredulously, as the large man all but runs away.
When he is through the door, Atia rounds the corner and gapes at Grok. "What in the world was that about?"