Sang Sur La Mer [h|na]

[Trance Harper]

It was always interesting, being on the ship, any ship for that matter. Roy was never sure if it was the wood giving way just a little beneath even the lightest footstep, or the slight shift of weight the made the most minute alternation to the course, or if he had bonded so closely with the ship itself that he felt the approach behind him as the ship felt it. On the one hand, it meant he was difficult to sneak up on onboard - which, frankly, was in everyone's favour - but on the other hand it was unnerving to think that his feel for the ship went beyond merely knowing her by her bones and heartbeat.

The humming gave Gerald away as himself, his voice was still young compared to the older, gruffer crewmen that dominated the ship. A soft clearing of the throat and the boy shared his feelings on the subject of the wind. Roy often had half a mind to tie him to the bow like a ship's dog and have him point the breeze, but it was always a passing notion. Roy preferred the idea of an actual ship's dog, but then there was the feeding and the training and all the other fuss that went into the proper care of an animal. Then again, maybe that would be the perfect task for young Gerald, give him something to do instead of lollying around and touching things he ought not.

"I'll admit I'm in no particular hurry, but I'm sure the rest of the crew wouldn't say no to the notion of setting foot ashore sooner than later." Rob Roy said to the lad, reaching his right hand back to grab him firmly by the shoulder. It wasn't malicious, a simple gesture that his thoughts were appreciated in the moment. He loosened the hand he still kept on the wheel and felt the ship begin to take charge of her own course and wander where she would. "Give us your hand, lad, feel the wind on the Bearing."

The hand on the teen's shoulder pulled him closer to the wheel before taking his arm and moving Gerald's hand to one of the spoke handles. Roy still kept his left hand on the round of the wheel but nodded encouragement to the boy. "Just find her back into the right place on the wind and say when."

It wasn't that Roy was lazy to the idea of steering the ship himself down to where cabin boy had pointed; the boy was meant to be navigator. A true navigator needed to learn the feel of the ship and how to take her into the places he wanted her to be. If the wind was best where Gerald had pointed, Roy expected him to be able to take her there and feel the way the ship itself changed when the wind did. After all, Roy couldn't be at the helm all the time. And young whippersnappers like Gerald needed to be learning useful skills like really navigating a ship - skills like that and he could go anywhere. Maybe even find a life away from piracy.

The thought made Roy want to smirk at himself. The boy's life was his own, to be a pirate if he wished or to settle up or settle down. Yet deep down, perhaps because he frowned on his own decision to take up the jolly roger, he wanted to see the lad make more of himself than a criminal. He had yet to take a life or do anything truly unforgivable in the eyes of the law; there was still hope for him.

 

[angeldenoche]

___Jas Astrin_____



“Merow.”

The plaintive cry echoed far too loudly in his ear as soft fur pressed under his chin. “Nawwwmmmm.”

“Merooow.”

“No.”

Soft fur and pads touched his lips and chin several times, gaining intensity with each insistent tap.

“Cat!”

“Mow!”

“Fine. Fine! Fine! You win!” Jas reached out and batted back the small feline body as he opened his eyes. With his free hand, he reached out to the side table and grabbed his glasses. As they slid into their accustomed place, the blurry world came into focus. Brown eyes glanced down at the gray tabby cat, winding itself about his legs, purring contently now that he was up. With a smile, Jas reached out to scratch behind the impetuous cat’s ears. “Well, good morning to you too, Priss. Finally decided to come back to the domain you have claimed as your home I see?”

The cat, one of several strays in this part of Moore, danced away and out of Jas’ reach. With the shrug, Jas turned to grab his pants from the foot of his twin bed and shoved them on, wincing at the pain as his right leg protested the movement. Must have rained last night, he reasoned. Or it was just that damp here in Moore Town. Maybe he should stop leaving the window open so much.

A flash of grey from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to see Priss leap gracefully upon what served as a table. “Need I remind you about some ground rules we established a while back when you decided you wanted to adopt me, cat?” Jas asked, forcing himself to stand up. Leaning against the wall, he stretched his leg, forcing the muscles to move and loosen up, the pain and tension was familiar, like putting on a jacket that was too small and constricting. He breathed through the discomfort until the leg felt limber and strong enough to hold his weight.

“Okay, Priss, as I was saying ground rul....Oh,” Jas' statement stopped short as he saw the bloody present awaiting his approach to the table.

The tabby purred and stretched, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“While I thank you for the peace offering, really, you shouldn't have. I can fend for myself and I'm not starving...yet. Do I really look that helpless to you?"

Priss sauntered over and bumped her head against his body.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Jas sighed, running his fingers through his hair. This whole making it on his own in the world was becoming more difficult than he had imagined with each passing day. Work here in Moore Town was....sketchy...to say the least. At least the work that he had found anyway. Not that it had truly been much better at the mines if he was really to compare the two, but at least there they were upfront about it. Here, everyone swore up and down that the junk they plied was “authentic gold” or “a rare gem from across the seas from the exoctic kingdom of Suchandsuch.”

He had learned quickly not to believe the claims and even to watch his pocket, not just from the street urchins and thieves which lined the streets as thick as molasses upon a spoon, but from his own employer as well. That job didn’t last long. Not that any other job he had managed to acquire in the last five months had fared any better.

Jas sighed again as he walked over to the tiny counter to see what there was for food. The remains of a loaf of bread and some jam. He checked the tiny supposed-to-be cold box that had come with the apartment; a half eaten sandwich and a lump of cheese.

Bread and jam it was.

He quickly prepared the meal and hobbled over to a chair near the table. “Well, Priss,” he stated, “it’s time to start another day. Do you think the Grogram will dock today?”

Priss circled a few times then curled up on his table.

Jas considered the cat as he finished his breakfast. “You do realize that if Chris is actually able to do what he claims he can then I’ll be leaving Moore, right? You’ll have to find someone else to pester...To think, me on an actual airship. Like Kip and Adam. Mom’s gonna throw another fit when she finds out. Not that that is really anything new with her.”

Jas leaned back in his chair as his eyes drifted over to the side table where two letters rested. One was from Chris and the other was sealed and addressed to his parents. Any day now. The Grogram could dock at any time and with that, the promise of a new life, a better life. Beside the table on the floor was a worn, gray bag, already packed and ready to go. Jas had not brought with him to Moore Town and he found he did not have that much to leave either. The only new addition was the gun, purchased at Chris’ suggestion, not that he would really know what to do with it if he had to use the thing. But he had it nonetheless.

“Well, Priss,” Jas drawled after a moment, as he began to push himself up from the chair, “either way I’ve got at least another day of work ahead of me. Time to get moving, I guess. Try to stay out of trouble until I get back okay?”

Priss merely blinked at him.

With a shake of his head, Jas grabbed his cane from beside the door, and let himself out into the world of Moore.

It wasn’t a long walk to the Broken Dagger Inn, which was good since his job required that he stand most of the time. He did make a quick stop by the nearby docks, watching the ships and men scurry about them, like frantic ants tending to the colony. His eyes scanned the names of the airships, C.S.S. Rover , C.S.S. Skip , C.S.S. Bountiful, those names and more could be seen, but no Grogram.

Not yet.

He looked to the sky, shading his eyes from the harsh glint of the sun. Not a speck in sight. “Where are you, Chris?” he asked softly under his breath. “Any time now would be nice.”

This had better not another joke of his. A frown crossed his face as he considered that possibility, yet again. Chris did like a good prank and joke, but surely he hadn’t joked about this. The man had been aching to get on a ship to study kalimagi for a while now. And the last letter he had sent had sounded too solid, too sure, to be anything other than a joke.

A breeze danced against Jas’ face and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. Even after five months, he still found himself savoring the crisp, salt-laden, and yes, fish tanged, scent of the sea. It was so different from the acidic smell that permeated the mines and everything around it for miles. He wondered what the air smelt like up in the air. Hopefully, he’d find out soon enough.

Knowing his time was running short, he reluctantly turned away from the port after one more glance up to the skies. Still nothing. Shaking his head, he started off towards his place of current employment.

______”And the ocean she understands
Just the man I could be” ____

 

[Tesunie]

As Roy gently pushed Gerald forwards to take the wheel, he was washed with a little discomfort. He wasn't use to people giving him any responsibilities on the ship, mostly leaving him alone. He'd sometimes find an odd job here or there that needed to be done, such as moping the deck from time to time or helping in the kitchen, or was it called a gallery? Didn't matter really. Though it would be strange to call the place where one ate a gallery. It wasn't like there was art on display there. Or, was food and cooking considered an art?

At first, Gerald wanted to give the wheel a full on spin, but after watching other people at the device he knew that an action such as that would disrupt the whole ship. So Gerald started off with a very slow and hesitant movement, trying to nudge the ship in the right direction. He often heard the wind and how it carried the ship, so he wasn't completely unfamiliar with the way the wind would hit the ship, but how the ship handled and moved itself within the wind was a different matter. Thankfully, Roy was there to correct any mistakes he might make. Gerald was sure a disruption to the ship would probably make his life here a little uncomfortable for a while. Probably not too much though, as he did seem to be needed often.

Taking his time, Gerald moved the ship slowly in the direction he intended. "Down. We need to move down." Gerald muttered, expecting Roy to assist with the matter. Before too long though, the ship was going in the direction it needed to go in.

A crisp wind was the first indicator that they are hit the right spot as it seemed to blow by Gerald and Roy. This caused Gerald to smile to greet the wind as it seemed to dance around him for a moment. The wind smelled of rain and moisture spent, and it quickly started to tug on the sails. "Hi. All the way there? Okay, thanks, " He seemed to talk to himself. He then addressed Roy more openly as he looked upwards trying to see Roy as he was standing behind him, "The wind says he's going almost all the way to the rocky lands, I mean Moore. He's tired after having spent his anger and is going to rest in the mountains for a while. We should be there by morning now I think." Originally, they would have been there by nightfall tomorrow, now it seemed that half a day's trip was being shaved off their journey, and from just a little movement off their original intended path.

 

[Tunes14]

Swish… Swish… Chris groaned as he came back to consciousness. The sun was up already – it was late into the morning. Late for him, anyway. But he wished he could just stay asleep. There was no movement in his sleep. Unlike on this blasted ship with the constant rocking and rocking and rocking… Who knew he would find riding on a ship so sickening, even after the number of days he had already been aboard the ship?

Swish… Chris stood up and steadied himself on the wall. Blasted ship with its blasted rocking and blasted smell… Not that the smell was particularly bad there – it had certainly been worse in Sangsable. But the constant fishy smell of the ship only seemed to enhance the nausea.

Finally, the room stopped spinning and he stood up on his own. He took a deep breath of relief, which he instantly regretted. Looking past the seasickness, he went over his situation again. It was always a great activity to get him started on a positive note each day. Alright, who am I? I am Chris, and I hardly have the patience for this... What am I? I am a researcher on kalydium. Where am I? I am on a ship – the C.S.S. Grogram, destination Moore Town. When is it? Too late in the morning for me to be only beginning to wake… He shook his head and pulled himself back on topic. Why am I here? To examine the effects of kalydium on those in constant proximity to it. How do I fare? …Sickly… He wondered if perhaps this wasn’t the result of the kalydium making him feel sick, but of course, those weren’t the types of symptoms people were complaining about. As much as he didn’t want to admit that the sea made him sick, he was likely suffering from your average bout of seasickness and nothing more.

Alright, the past then. He thought, pulling himself back to his morning routine. Relevant facts today include my mother, who died at sea doing very nearly the same thing that I am doing now. I grew up with Jas in Sangsable, and though I haven’t seen him in many years, we have managed to keep contact through letters. I heard about a ship after some kind of major kalydium collection, the crew of which has been experiencing odd symptoms involving kalydium exposure, so I boarded the ship. My present consists of my riding on a ship, carrying a gun recommended by my colleagues at the research facility in case of a pirate attack so that I may not die the same way my mother did. I am on a ship destined for Moore Town, where I may get to meet with Jas again – if he would have the bravery to board a ship. Such a coward, he always was. Or perhaps it really was just his mother. Either way, he did move out to Moore Town, didn’t he? So perhaps he would like… Either way, he will want to see me. That much, I am certain of. Oh, yes, my present. He was having difficulty focusing today. He could already tell that it was going to be a difficult day for him. And I am examining the crew of this ship looking for any sign of something out of the ordinary, though I have seen nothing more odd than the captain driving nonstop without rest – surely that can’t be healthy, but likely has little to do with kalydium. And for the future, we will arrive in Moore Town soon, where I will meet briefly with Jas and come back on this ship to continue watching the crew, with or without my childhood friend.

He held his head up and took a very slow breath, ignoring the putrid stench of rotting fish. He pulled on a clean pair of pants and a clean shirt, took the gun from the desk beside his mattress and stuck it in his belt, and walked to the door to his room. Stepping into the sun instantly cleared away his sickness and his vision in one fell swoop. Blinking away the light, he squinted onto the deck to see what was going on in the waking world. His first surprise was that the captain was not at the wheel. But after a moment, he decided that it wasn’t his place to worry about. He began wondering aimlessly to watch out for anything involving kalydium or odd symptoms of exposure to it.

PLACEHOLDERGrogram deck PLACEHOLDER Alone PLACEHOLDER Groggy

 

[L`Tisha]

Fleur Elise Rousseau

Fleur glanced at the steering wheel station from her vantage in the radio room. She could barely make out the slim figure of Gerald pointing and then being guided to steer the ship in that direction. Fascinating that Master Pierce would trust young Gerald that much. It spoke to his wisdom and patience as much as to Gerald's own unique talents and abilities.

She turned her attention back to the radio array. Gerald was handling the steering smoothly, and no one was calling with a problem. For the moment, at least, things seemed to be going rather well for them. Fleur tried to unthink that thought. That was the kind of thinking that just asked for trouble to come tumbling in, take up residence, and make a mess.

 

[RapscalliantJackalope]

The alleys of Moore Town were bathed in a perpetual twilight. By day, so little light filtered through the canopy of slipping roofs and full clotheslines that it might as well have been night, and by night the flickering light of soot-stained street lamps reached just far enough into the maze to illuminate exactly none of the hazards stacked high against crumbling walls. Rats, being nocturnal, seemed to like this arrangement quite a lot.

Nathaniel Benbow was not a rat. Sure, the well-clothed passers-by on the streets spat and stomped at his shakily proffered hat, and more than a few muttered about ‘street rats.’ And maybe he’d gradually lost his sense of time and gained a bit of whisker-twitch sense in the dim back streets.

But for one thing, he was rather larger than a rat, though it seemed like a close thing sometimes, listening to the scurrying on every side as he tried to keep his eyes closed and catch a few winks. And he didn’t have a single actual whisker, just a head of curly mouse-brown hair that seemed to have a special affinity for splinters and rotten straw.

He really tried to keep himself clean, just like Mother had always told him. He brushed off his hat when it got wet or muddy or thrown under the tracks of a carriage by a disgruntled gentleman. He snuck down to the water and washed his face, making sure to scrub extra-well behind his ears. He’d even tried to neaten up his shoes with some smudges left in a discarded shoe-shine tin.

And maybe rats cleaned behind their ears too, but they didn’t take care of their little sisters. He combed Janie’s hair with his fingers until he picked up a beautiful little comb that had fallen out of a lady’s purse. He always gave her the middle of the stale bread, and let her pick the potatoes out of the soup, just like Father had done.

This evening, the stream of people in the streets had been utterly unsympathetic. He had two small coins left. Janie was chewing on an apple peel she’d snatched from a carpenter’s lunch, but his stomach rumbled. The lamplighter was just beginning to make his rounds.

Nathan gnawed gently on his thumb. His stomach was quiet, but it ached no less than when it chose to be louder. The further from the street-corners he traveled, the more he entered the kingdom of the rats. There were meaty bones and rotten melons and even the occasional half-eaten tart, but the resident rodents grew larger and larger on the bounty. Spending the night in there could be fatal, he’d once heard his older sister whisper. But he was venturing in more and more often, because hunger was just as fatal, or so he’d heard. His stomach seemed to agree.

“Stay close,” he whispered to Janie. Familiar with his plans, she glued herself to his side. They crept through the angled shadows, searching the scattered piles of refuse. The occasional window lit their way with a comforting glow. The sounds and smells of families sitting down to dinner twisted his stomach with sadness more than hunger ever had. They’d been like that once. Not the type to throw their delicious roasted chicken scraps out the window, but a family nonetheless. He bit his lip, hard, to keep from sniffling. Janie would cry if she heard him.

He was thankful for the distraction of a droning radio. The sound leaked from a cracked window, echoing off walls until the steady narrator was almost unintelligible. Nathan paused beneath the window, hugging Janie close. Ships. The man on the radio was talking about ships. Brave sailors who docked in Moore Town nearly every day. Maybe if he had whiskers he’d be able to get a job aboard one of those ships.  

[Chef Of Sweets]

Hester frowned a little when Archibald declined her offer. It was not every day that she ran into someone like him. Yes, it was a bit of a rather quick decision that seemed to have been given hardly any thought but as a Captain she was used to making quick decisions that often effected others lives. Reading people's strengths and weaknesses was something she had to do on a daily basis and Archibald's strengths were what her wait staff was lacking in greatly. From what Hester had noticed about him was that he carried himself in a professional manner, showing respect to others while also giving off an air of authority. He was someone that they needed aboard this ship and his rejection of her offer was something she did not want to have to accept but at the same time she did not want to make him feel as if she were desperate. In fact, she was only sad to hear that she would not have the enjoyment of having another person who took to small detail matters as importantly as she did. After all, the smallest things were usually the ones that make up the whole picture.

Hester stood up from her desk as he gave a small bow to her and she lowered her head in return, feeling a bit weird that someone was bowing to her. Before he left though a servant came in with her afternoon tea and watched in amusement as Archibald stopped the servant from walking farther into her study. A smile appeared on her lips as she raised an eyebrow and watched the scene unfold before her. Archibald was a born leader and perfectionist, someone she would greatly enjoy having around. Perhaps luck will be on her side and have him change his mind. A small chuckle escaped her as she shook her head at such a thought. Luck very rarely ever had anything to do with anything in her life. Hester made sure of it in a way, since she liked to have order and for things to go according to plan. She hated nothing more than chaos and uncertainty. It was a waste of time in her eyes and only caused more harm than good. She tilted her head to the side as Archibald turned back around and walked towards her. “After some careful consideration, Captain Whitlock, I believe I will take you up on that offer. The terms of my employment, as well as my wages, may be discussed at your earliest convenience.”

Hester smiled largely at him and nodded her head, "Of course, we shall discuss everything on the morrow. For now you may either try your best to rest or you may go to work right away. I'll leave it up to you, Mr. Twitch, for now I have some lovely paper work to go over." She held out her hand and took his, shaking it firmly. "Welcome to the Grogram family. You may go unless you have any questions for me." She then took her seat once again and began to take on the pile of papers that were sitting in front of her. She hated being stuck up in her study and not out at the wheel but someone had to do the paper work and she rather do it than leave it for others to do. She was very hands on when it came to her ship, without it they would have no way of keeping the skies safe for travelers. It was something she knew all too well. She took a sip of her tea and took the papers in hand, making sure to read each and every word that was on the document. Changing a few ways that things were worded here and there, while also debating about prices with other things. It was going to be a long afternoon but she knew that tomorrow would bring better times as she knew her wait staff were going to be doing many a changes.


----


Hester felt the wood beneath her fingers jerk slightly as strong winds pulled at the ship but she kept it steady as she navigated the ship into dock. The last raise of the sun shined on them, her green eyes reflected the firey light of the sky as shadows cast themselves all around. They had just made it into port at Moore Town in just the nick of time. Any latter and she would not have risked docking, it would have been too dangerous with thieves always waiting for the cover of the night to strike. It was a coward's way of doing things, Hester would rather meet the enemy face on than sneak up on them. Sadly not everyone thought the same way as her, the one who seemed to on this ship was Archibald. Mr. Twitch had made much progress since he was hired just a couple of days ago. The wait staff was much better and with only a few protesting about Mr. Twitch being hired. The change in staff was felt by everyone and in a good way as well as Hester was seeing more compliments than complaints. It was a welcoming bit of fresh air to hear that everything was working smoothly and that she was not going to have to worry about the wait staff any longer. Though regardless of how well things were going on the ship, something was gnawing at her and she knew that feeling all too well. It was always a feeling she got, first it would start at the back of her head, feeling as if she had forgotten something important. Then, the closer she got, the stronger the feeling got but it did not stay in the back of her head, no. It would travel to her stomach and twitch and turn into a knot, making her all but lose her appetite.

No, something was about to happen and this something was going to be soon. Perhaps not tonight but tomorrow they were surely going to come. And by 'they' Hester was only too familiar with. Turning to her second in command, her lips turning into a tight line. "Keep watch and put the men on high alert." Her second forward his brows at her as he shifted from one foot to the other. "Pirates will be here soon and we must be ready for them at once."

 

[Tunes14]

It was a long dull day in which nothing happened, as the others had been. And still no sign of anything that seemed strange to him. If these crew members were showing symptoms, they surely were not showing them to him! But he had wondered down to the ship's kalydium store to try to get a closer look. Twice. Both attempts had been thwarted by the crew and he couldn't get a particularly good look. He hoped it hadn't been taken too seriously. He hadn't put up a fight either time that he was told to leave the area, as it was off-limits. But going down there twice would make him a repeat offender, if the crew talked amongst themselves about such things. Either way, he hadn't seen any sign of trouble, so he assumed he would be let back on the ship when it was leaving Moore Town.

He wandered around on deck, watching the captain drive the ship, as she normally did. Then as he looked out to the brightly colored horizon, he saw it start coming closer into view. Moore Town! Hardly a silhouette against the setting sun. He watched in fascination as the silhouette grew larger and larger, and he began to make out individual buildings, and then the dock, and then the people...

It was nearly dark by the time they pulled up to the dock and began releasing the passengers. He still had to find a place to rest for the night - he had an early rise in the morning if he was to board the ship for the next journey. There was also the matter of his friend, who was hopefully awaiting his arrival. They had prepared a place to meet, however he wasn't sure if Jas would be there at all. There was a chance that perhaps his friend had no intention of boarding a ship out of Moore Town. He had gone through quite a lot to reach Moore Town, after all. And above that, with the time being so late, would he come out to meet him at this hour? Would he even know the ship had arrived? Chris had no answer to these questions, but they were rather important questions, now that he was stepping off of the ship.

So what would his next course of action be? He could look for a place to sleep. He could waste time trying to meet with Jas this late in the evening. He needed a place to sleep and there was a good chance that Jas would not be in the arranged location this late in thee evening. However if Jas was aware of the ship's arrival, and did intend to meet with him, even briefly, then Chris might also be able to share his roof for the night he would be staying in Moore Town, which would save Chris both time and money. He figured it was a gamble worth taking.

He took a deep breath and made his way out into the streets of Moore Town, reveling in his adventure outside of the research facility.

PLACEHOLDERMeeting Place PLACEHOLDER Alone PLACEHOLDER Excited

 

[angeldenoche]

___Jas Astrin_____



Through his shift at the Broken Dagger, Jas kept a close eye on the docks and the hours as they passed. The good thing about the Inn was its placement near the docks. That and a decent cook in the dining area, also made it a convenient place for dock hands and sailors to come for meals and lodgings. It made it easy for Jas to overhear what ships were leaving and which were coming in.

When he overheard from the docking master that the Grogram had requested permission to dock, he sprang into action. It had taken quite a bit of haggling and ended up with him taking an extra hour on his shift today, but in the end, he managed to convince Lisa to swap lunch breaks with him.

That was when the clock slowed down. Time seemed to inch by in almost agonizing slowness. It taunted him as the seconds dripped away, building up to the time to see Chris. The last time they had seen each other had been before the accident, the night before his thirteenth birthday. They had never had a proper chance to say goodbye to the other back then, only letters to keep contact all these longs years since that fateful day.

Finally, it was time.

“Be back later!” Jas announced, as he tossed off his half-apron and headed out the door. He walked as quickly as he could down the streets of Moore to another small restaurant he had written to Chris about in the past. He had mentioned in his letters that should Chris ever come to Moore, they would have to go there, the sea chowder was the best in town. Surely, that was where Chris would go once the ship docked as a meet up point. It had to be. It was the only place Chris would know to go.

Jas just hoped it made it there in time.

Would they even recognize each other after all these years? Well, even if he couldn’t recognize him, he just had to keep his ears and eyes open for the most blunt man in the room. Surely that would tip him off as to where Chris was. Tact had never been his strong suit as a child and if his letters were any indication, time had not tempered the trait either.

Stupid leg. The dull ache was growing into a sharper pain, forcing Jas to stop and rub at his leg. Oh, he was going to pay for this tomorrow. He could already tell by the way his muscles protested the movement and kept trying to tense up on him now. The speed pushed in this walk, the walk back, the extra hour of his shift, and the walk back to apartment would do him in for sure.

Just like most things in his life, though, there was no help for it.

He rubbed at his leg for a moment longer, then pressed onward and forward. “Wait for me just a big longer if you’re already there, bud. I’m on my way,” he softly asked under his breath. “Just a few more minutes, Chris, I promise.”

______”And the ocean she understands
Just the man I could be” ____

 

[Tunes14]

Chris sat down at the table and leaned back in his chair. He had just searched the area and didn't see Jas. Figures. Well, may as well grab something to eat and see if he shows. Chris picked up the menu and skimmed over the (slim, compared to places he had been to in Banbury-In-Dorchester) selection.

A man came up to the table and asked what he would like to order. After making a quick choice of edibles, Chris pulled out a notebook, without even waiting to see if the man had anything else to say. If the man did have anything else to say, he thought better of it, because as soon as Chris was settled with his work, the man walked back off toward what Chris assumed was the kitchen.

Chris looked over his notes. Kalydium was such a complex topic. He was fascinated by it, but he hadn't gained anything thus far from his trip. After having the facility pay for his travel on the ship, he couldn't come back empty-handed. Biting down on his finger slightly, he skimmed over the notes that he had made while at the facility. Maybe he could make some kind of conclusion by reading over what he knew. Maybe he could come across some kind of wisdom... Or perhaps he could get his hands on some kalydium here in Moore Town. Probably not, but if anyone would know, it would be Jas. Now Chris knew he probably couldn't get kalydium legally, but that didn't mean it was impossible to obtain in some other way...

A look of frustration overtook his features as he slapped the notebook closed. If Jas didn't show up, what was he going to do? Find a bed to sleep in. End his day and leave early to start the next leg of his journey. The first segment of his trip would be over and he would have absolutely nothing to show for it! He had made it ou to mean nothing when they spoke in the letters - Jas could do whatever he chose and they would just do whatever was needed at the time. They didn't have a real plan. Hell, their meeting place was just a casually agreed-upon location for him to visit if he made it to town. It wasn't even a formal meeting place! And while that had all seemed well and good at the time, he was really regretting it now. How unlike him to be so un-thorough! He supposed his excitement pulled his immaturity forward for a moment. He was a researcher. He needed to act like it!

He rested his forehead on the tips of his fingers, massaging the skin slightly. He needed to calm down. He hadn't been here more than a few moments - Jas very well may still come. And he would wait. After all, he had no preferable option.

PLACEHOLDERMeeting Place PLACEHOLDER Alone PLACEHOLDER Frustrated

 

[Trance Harper]

Abigail's eyebrow twitched at the mention of attempting to intimidate the pirates they pursued by letting them see their vessel. She trusted most of Reim Morrow's decision, but in the end he was just a man and men were prone to rash and foolhardy actions. The Sanglante Ruth's advantage was stealth and silence; they weren't a fully-armed and fully-armoured battleship that cast a shadow like some great prey of prey descending from the sky with razor talons and lethal bulk. No, she was a falcon, light on the bearing and shallow on the draft, quick and pristine, the kind of bird whose prey didn't see her until it was too late and she rammed them into oblivion.

But that's what Abigail was there for, to remind the captain that brute strength was not the only way to win a war. She merely rolled her eyes at the idea, only to follow it with an inaudible snort on the subject of Reim donning his uniform. Thus far in their voyage, Abigail had only seen the captain properly attired when they made port, and even then only when they expected to see peers or superiors. He certainly wasn't one for pomp and circumstance.

"All this radio silence is frankly agitating, even if it does benefit the war effort and avoid the dissemination of secure information," she murmured when he revealed that little had been shared from the Admiral. Of course, the Ruth was equipped with a telegraphing machine, like all Coalition ships, and they carried a volume of the latest set of codes, but given the ability of ships like their quarry to swoop in and upset more than a few operations, there was reason to believe that the pirate armada had acquired a copy. Silence now was the best policy.

"Moore... what a den," she replied with distaste. She'd never been but had heard plenty of stories from her peers back in the Court. Best place to lose change to loose women and bottomless pilsners. She let her gaze drift from their bearing to the setting sun on the horizon. They would fly through the night, as they always did. If Moore became a way station in their journey, the men would certainly appreciate a reprieve from the cloistered glass and steel embrace of the ship, even if only for a short time. "If you don't mind Captain, I will take the night watch."

With that, she clicked her heels together and about-faced, returning to the wheelhouse to relieve Watson, quickly stepping into the galley to pick up a small dinner for herself. Though she was not fond of night watch she had a feeling about tonight, something in the weather. There was a storm ahead, whether it be foul weather or merely a change in the wind she could not be sure yet, but something told her she would only sleep poorly if she tried. Better to let the others rest. As the sun dipped below the line of the sea and the twilight turned to true dark, the Ruth cast only a soft glow about her nacelles as the electric lamps dimmed for stealth. Abigail guided her by compass and stars, keeping her bow trained on the glimmering speck in the distance of the spyglass. News from the Admiral to engage could only come too soon, fingering the gold chain and pendant about her left wrist.

 

[angeldenoche]

___Jas Astrin_____



Made it.

With a worn smile, Jas limped inside. He just hoped that Chris was still here and hadn’t left already. That would be the rub if he wasn’t. Chris wasn’t known for his patience with these sort of things.

“Evenin’, Jas. Done for the day?” a female voice from the nearby counter greeted him.

Jas turned and his brown eyes smiled warmly at the dirty blonde standing behind it. “Hi, Triss. Wish I was done. Just a short break. Here to meet someone actually.”

“You? Meeting someone?”

He chuckled lightly as he made his way over to lean gratefully against the counter. “Yeah, I know right? He’s an old friend of mine. And heee’s...” Jas scanned the small dining room, looking the patrons over. Not that there were that many people to look over, nor was the room that large.

Jas’ eyes settled on a single man sitting alone. He recognized that hair as well as the posture of those shoulders. It was the same look he had whenever Jas' mother had taken it upon herself to discipline the "reckless influence that was always out trying to get Jason hurt." While Chris was facing away from him, Jas was fairly sure his friend’s eyes were balefully glaring at the no doubt offensive journal which was sitting before him just as he used to glare at his mom.

“....right there,” Jas finished, with a nod and pushing himself off the counter.

“You have a time for a quick meal?”

“Only if it’s already made.”

“I’ll see what there is in the kitchen.”

Jas hardly heard her. He was already busy making his way across the dining room. It would figure that Chris would have selected the table furthest from the door. At least that was what it felt like.

As he neared, he was suddenly faced with a different problem. What was he going to say? There were so many different greetings he had thought of over the years, some serious, some emotional, from funny and flippant. Now that the time had finally come, he couldn’t decide and nothing seemed to fit.

Figures.

So in the end, he settled for simplicity. “Hey, Chris.”

______”And the ocean she understands
Just the man I could be” ____

Edit made 9/5/14  

[Dokuro Togiretogire]

Reim couldn't help but to smile at the lass. Among all she was the closest friend on this ship. It was only natural, since they where more or less the only officers on board. The old man was there but that man wasn't in the meeting to discuss orders and information. No, it was him and her to decide the fate of the ship. Long talks and arguments of best course of action. The best mate he cold have found. Honest opinions to his suggestions molded his orders and plans. Even the mightiest generals had people around him that aided the outcome.

Not to mention that she was also the best way to remember important dates, people and things that he must do. Yet again it seemed that she enjoyed watching him entertain the rich fools that walked around on their high stick shoved up in the aft. Well that was good in a way he guessed. If it was some enjoyment in it for her, at least someone had a good time when such occurrences happened.

Reim shifted his attention to the sky and placed his hands behind his back. Agitating? Was that really a good enough word? Maybe Reim could hold it to be bloody frustrating and not to mention irritating among the seven depths of hell, since it was his own mother on the other end. "Aye and Aye. But that's been her style for as long as I can remember. Do what you've been told until you're told something new." He shook his head as the words left his mouth. The hands on him was almost shaking for that moment. During combat there was only one place for Reim to be at, where the action was. Be that at the wheel, the cannon. Hanging from a rope fighting on the side of the ship. The Bearing and her treacherous bastards that brutalized it's gentlemen pricks where in reach. They had been in reach for his justice longer then any pirate before.

A deep and calming breath with his eyes closed. Abigail's words snapped him out of his mental raging rant. As he turned to answer her request she was already leaving and no need to be shouting. If she wanted the night shift, there was other things Reim could do. So he'd stayed for a while to clear his mind. A metallic whisper slowly creaked out as he drew his blade. With his legs crossed, sitting down, he let his fingers sweep along the steel. The sun was slowly setting and it gave away that silent tranquility in the ship. Slowly shutting his eyes and mentally rest himself. Something was going to happen soon. This was the silent before a big storm, they probably could all feel it. The Ruth was aching for combat, the girl could sense her prey now.

With a smile Reim stood up, sheathed his sword and turned around in one move. Walking down the hallway, grabbing his dinner and finding himself in his quarters. His sword belt come undone and swung over the back of his desk chair. Then when biting down on the cold green apple. Their fruit supply was dwindling so there had only been the few in a cold barrel in the back. Still juicy though, that sweet and some what sour water running down from the corner of his lips. The final reports to be written and logged. As a proper man of the blade his writing was impeccable, the feather flew across the paper. This part was one of those things that Reim took very serious. Another bite of the apple. So the minutes fly by until he leaned backwards and got some shut eye.