Retrieving The Wave Dancer - Part 1

[rassafraggin]

--[ Wandering Duchess ]-----------------------------[ Shipboard ]----

Morning begins softly at sea with a lightening of the sky to the east as the first indication that the day is hovering somewhere. Stars begin to dim as blue is added to the black vault above. Sailors stir as the cooks pass out coffee or tea. Those going off the night watch settle in while those coming on duty yawn, stretch and probably scratch. Captain Flame comes out of her borrowed cabin, accepts a mug of coffee from some king soul and walks out on deck. This morning her hair is carefully braided and she walks with an air of; if not ownership, at least belonging.

Whether anyone has noticed it or not, there's been a hawk of some sort nestled in the rigging up at the top of the sails since the ship left. It was probably there when everyone was partying, and it's still there now that morning comes with a more somber (hung over) air to it. The bird stretches its wings and begins a lazy, spiral descent, aimed at putting itself on Maggie's shoulder.

Jacen steps out onto the deck looking as well kept and dressed for the current environment as any of the blood of Amber might with enough experience tweaking Shadow to their liking. There's a mug of coffee in his hand, comfortable looking dark grey breeches tucked into the tops of a pair of soft soled boots. A dark blue and grey loose tunic serves for a shirt, his own hair swept back in it's customary pony-tail as he surveys the deck and the water beyond with a quick glance.

Leaning against the railing toward the port side of the ship, Maggie glances up at the spiraling hawk. When it aims to land on her shoulder, she lifts a brow, but moves the thickness of her braid out of the way. Although she cannot recall having a hawk decide that she would make a decent perch, she seems willing to let things be this morning. The coffee mug is lifted and she takes a swallow then looks at it speculatively and holds it to that side, clearly offering the bird some of the stimulant. When Jacen comes out on deck, she lifts a chin his way and speaks softly so as not to wake anyone, "Morning."

Bashar stretched his arms out, offering the morning a great big yawn as he wakened himself for the start of a bright, new day. "Good morning, Miss Maggie." he said, greeting the woman with accustomed cheer. Jacen's presence is noted and a welcoming smile is offered to him, as well. "Oh, hello." The knight errant pulled himself up against the railing alongside the as yet boatless captain. "Sooooo, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked.

Jacen makes his way towards where Maggie and now Bashar have taken up a space of railing and joins them, leaning with his back to the rail in something as close to an indolent lazy slouch as one can get when still largely on one's feet. Bashar's given a nod, a quick once over glance, and a quirk of a smile, "Good morning..." then his gaze shifts to Maggie, the smile repeats itself, "..to the both of you." he finishes, before taking a sip from his coffee and glancing at the hawk.

Merrisol comes into view from... somewhere from Aft. He's got a couple of thick woolen blankets folded neatly over one arm, and first goes to a heavy trunk set off to the side of the throughways, to deposit them within. Then he's free to follow the rough scent of coffee through the brisk deck air. Spotting some of his fellow wayfarers by the siderail, he lifts a hand in greeting then scrubs it back through his dew-crisped hair.

The hawk sits quietly on Maggie's shoulder once it's availed itself of that perch. Mind the talons! They're sharp. But he tries not to move too much or make a deal of hurting her. Brown eyes turn from one person to the next, watching the arrayed adventurers.

A yawn begins, then is halted as Jacen and Bashar join her at the railing. "Captain Flame while we are aboard ship, please, Bashar." While she still holds the mug for the hawk, Maggie offers both Bashar and Jacen a smile, "Morning to you both. Let me see... You two haven't met yet, right? Okay. Lord Jacen, this is Sir Bashar. Sir Bashar, Lord Jacen. Bashar's been a friend of mine for a long time. Jacen is my cousin." She winces just a bit at the talons and makes a silent promise to buy padding for her shoulders if this is going to be a common occurance. She looks over as Merrisol walks fore from aft. He also wins a morning smile and a nod, "Morning." To Jacen, she indicates the blanket bearer, "And that is Captain Merrisol. He is my second for this trip."

"Of course, Miss Maggie!" Bashar said, happy to oblige the woman and only realising after the fact that he managed to fail in doing so. Frowning, he said, "Err, I mean, Captain Maggie. Or, uhhh, Miss Flame. Oh gosh darned it!" He threw up his arms in exasperation. "Miss-- Captain! Captain Flame. There." He sighed with relief before casting Maggie a grin. "I think I got it that time. Is that your super-secret pirate name?" Bashar then offered Jacen a polite bow of introduction from the waist. "A pleasure to meet you, my lord. And don't listen to Mi-- the good Captain here. We've just been very young friends for a very long time, is all."

Jacen's gaze flicks once to each of the men as they're introduced and he gives each of them a nod, "A pleasure to meet you both," he says simply, another sip taken from his coffee as he glances at the hawk once more on Maggie's shoulder, "Quite the bird you've got there, Maggie, though I'm going to make a guess that he's not a usual shoulder adornment for you. " Then back to Bashar, "Could likely be a mix of both, given the way Shadow and time works, Sir Bashar...or neither even, if one was careful in where one walked."

The hawk's head turns and it preens at Maggie's hair. Which is to say, it uses its beak to pull red strands. Surely there are no bugs in there to actually eat.

"I work with horses, my lord," Bashar told Jacen with a jovial grin. "so I tend to be -very- careful about where I walk."

There's a slow triple-take as Merrisol focuses on the cook's helper doling out portions, then glances back at the trio to port, then back to the coffee, frowning, then the trio.. or, the quartet? No, need the java, seeing things. And finally, back to Bashar, Jacen, Maggie, and... ah there's the fourth - on her shoulder. And Merri starts to turn back slowly... then around he spins, completing the full turn to go for that coffee tin after all. "Didn't even -have- any of that rice wine last night.." he mumbles to himself.

Maggie winces a bit as the hawk steals some strands of hair from her braid. She even closes one eye on that side, "Ow." Since the hawk has ignored the coffee, she recenters the mug, then takes a sip from it, eyes flickering around the deck once more. "Plan? Once Captain Catriona and Quinlan are ready we will sail into Minos and, hopefully, find my ship." Sounds straightforward, doesn't it? "The dolphins are still with us, I see." Several of the pod that went with them the night before leap and splash off to the starboard side of the ship, playing whatever games dolphins play. Merrisol's slow turn that becomes a spin wins the man a quick grin but she does not comment on it. Instead, she nods, "Young friends for a long time? Time friends for a... Never mind." Shifting against the railing, she answers Jacen, "The hawk? I don't own one and am not honestly sure where he came from." Though she does seem certain of the gender, "But, if he wants sanctuary aboard the ship, I don't mind providing it. Though I will be adding layers. Those talens are sharp."

There's another squeeze of talens, probably on purpose, and then it leaps from her shoulder to flap back off into the rigging.

Bashar nodded as he listened to Maggie detail the fool-proof, certain to succeed plan to reacquire her wayward vessel. Leaning forward against the rail, he watched as the dolphins played water quidditch. It looked like Flipper was up and had posession of the quaffle but there was still four minutes on the clock. Still anybody's game for all intents and (pun alert) porposes.

"Seems like I might be able to find an appropriate shoulder pad below, if I look about long enough, cousin." Jacen replies with a touch of a smile, "Either way, I trust the party went well last night?" He glances over his shoulder at the dolphins, and then towards the hatch that leads below and presumably Catriona's cabin, "I don't think she'll be too much longer."

Yeah, Merrisol probably did spin just to flaunt the full crimson pleating of his coat like another type of bird. See, it worked. Rival bird is gone! "Mnnn Good morning," he greets the group as a whole. "Captain Flame.. Sir Bashar." He glances at Jacen and waits, having missed any previous introductions.

He's got his cuppa. And a sippa.

"Good morning, Sir Merrisol." Bashar greeted, taking his eyes off the game to offer the man a polite nod. "I trust the day meets you well." THe knight errant sniffed the air, eyes darting hither and thither. "I smell saussages."

Another wince is won by the hawk for that extra talen flex, "Ow." Nodding, Maggie watches the hawk lift up to the rigging, "Please, cousin? That would be really nice of you." Lowering her attention, she follows the man's gaze below, then nods, "When she is ready." There is an impulse to add 'no hurry' but... The compulsion to find her ship growing upon her with each passing moment. So, she turns her focus to other things. Or people. Since the bird has flown, she can use both hands, not simply gesture with mug and mug. Lifting her free hand, she motions for Merrisol to join them. She even makes room for him against the railing. "Captain Merrisol, this is my cousin Jacen. Well. Lord Jacen, if he wants the title used." A lifted brow turns toward the man in question, "Do you?"

"Certainly..after I finish my coffee however." Jacen replies with a bit of an impish grin, a glance at the hawk and his cousin a moment, before he sips again from his mug. A glance then for Merrisol as he's introduced and then he pauses at the question and shrugs, even as his eyes glimmer with more mischeif, "If we're using titles, Your Majesty is more appropriate for me, I suppose, but by the time you've got thirty or fourty of them they tend to get a bit heavy and rather noisy when turning around too quickly; some even get a bit sharp edged and poke back every now and then. " He makes a vague sort of wave with the coffee mug, managing to avoid spilling it, "So..Jacen's just fine when not at court or amongst the acknowledged Amber royalty anyway."

Merrisol's gaze flickers to the vacancy being made for him in the prime rail estate... but he looks from Maggie back to Jacen at the intro, bowing his head a little lower, a little longer, whilst keeping a studious eye on the other man. He shifts his weight back, straightens, and remains where he stands. "Honoured to make your acquaintance, Lord Jacen," he states, after having been given leave to, well, leave the Lord out of it. "If I may inquire.. do you serve on board the Wandering Duchess in an official capacity, or one of the many here to personally assist Captain Flame's endeavor?"

The sunlight grows as the sun rises over the horizon. Golden shafts sparkle over the waves, set the underside of a few high clouds to glowing pink and orance, then flash from metal and chrome. While the intensity of the light grows, the brilliance is mitigated by open air and perspective. Maggie takes a moment to parse that, laughing very softly at the whirling, metaphorical references to family members both known and unknown. "Mmhmmm. Jacen it is." She tilts her head back slightly, then nods to Bashar, "Sausages. And... eggs?" Lowering her attention once more, she shakes her head, "Neither, Captain Merrisol. He is Captain Catriona's fiance." She flickers the man in question a slightly lifted brow, "Yes?" The morning sun touches a faint rose to her cheeks.

Reaching into his cloak, Bashar drew forth his silver flask. Raising it salute to Jacen on Maggie's information of the pending marriage, he then took a swig. "Official capacity it is, then." he said with a grin, before he offered the flask to the others. "Tea?"

Jacen nods in agreement with Maggie, one of those vague hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he finishes off his coffee before he responds. "I tend towards showing up in all manner of places, but here at least, for the simple choice of spending some time with Cat. That and the view is rather appreciably stunning this morning. " There's a nod in thanks and acceptance of Bashar's raised flask, and a glances to Merrisol, "So in general, Maggie's got it about right."

Maggie's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile and an errant breeze flutters through her hair and adding to the coloration in her cheeks. Lifting her mug, she declines Bashar's offer with a soft, "I have coffee, thanks though." Lifting the mug, she takes a deep swallow, the heat of the brew and the familiar taste a balm on this slightly balmy morning. Lowering the mug, she nods toward the stairs down, "Breakfast must be about ready for those who want some."

"Sounds good to me." Bashar said to Maggie after retrieving his flask from the last person to use it. "I'm famished. I think I'll head down to the galley and see." Offering a parting wave he departed from the party. "See you all later, lords and ladies, captains and captainesses. Don't run off without me!"
Merrisol considers the 'twist' with a faint incline of his chin, gaze sliding from Maggie, to Bashar and his blasted tea, back to Jacen, all framed against the backdrop of that spendiferous morning sky. "So noted," he concludes with a fleeting smile. To Bashar's flask, he just goes back to frowning: "No thank you, if it's anything like what you were brewing at the Crown.." His tongue is already remembering that fuzzy feeling, but he refrains from making a face.

Sunrise awakens Liya, though she's not moved much to begin with. She stretches out, petting Mayhem easily and lazily, as she listens to the sounds and takes in the aromas that are wafting through. Mayhem chirrups happily, headbutting against her leg, and otherwise suggesting he's an awake kitten who wants to play. That brings a soft laughter to Liya, and she sits up.

"I'll wait until I know that Cat's up before I have breakfast. I /might/ go see if I can find that shoulder pad for you, Maggie, if others are going to find food." Jacen replies after a moment's thought, his glance wandering across the deck and then he levers himself upright off the railing again as if just to arrange to do that.

There's a soft sound of the door opening, and then closing again, a gentle 'click', as Catriona emerges from the Captain's cabin. In one hand is a flask, in the other, Maggie's map. Today, the Karm is dressed for leisure in fitted breeches of deep fawn, a striking white blouse, tall boots of umbre that hug her calves lovingly, and a cloak of midnight blue. The cloak flutters softly behind the pale blonde as she makes her way to the helm, a warm smile allowed for those whom she passes. Out here, the strong, bold woman is emergent, more at ease.

It is the chirruping of that oversized kitten that alerts Maggie to Liya and Mayhem's wakefulness. She ducks a little to peer over to where the pair slept. A coffeemug lift in greeting is offered, "Morning. Coffee is being delivered by some of Catriona's kind crew but breakfast is in the galley. I think. Not sure, really." Her lean against the railing is not proprietary, but she does look at home on the gently rocking vessel. The reminder of the hawk's talens causes her to lift that shoulder and glance at it. No tears in her shirt, which is a blessing, "Hmmm. Yeah. That would be really nice of you, Jacen. Should get that done sooner rather than later in case the bird decided to perch again." Catriona's arrival is met with another coffee mug lift and a cheerful, "Morning, Captain."

Merrisol lowers his tin cup, almost empty, as Jacen makes to depart the rail. He follows the destination with his gaze in time to see Catriona arrive on deck, and almost clicks to attention again, however upon catching himself wills his stance to remain easy. "So that was a hawk I saw, Captain," he remarks Maggie-wards after a few seconds' pause. "You never mentioned a pet." Speaking of pets.. he looks over to where Liyandra is now sitting, observing the antics of the 'kitten', and raising his cup to the woman to include himself in Maggie's greeting.

Looking up as Catriona comes up on deck, Jacen flicks a smile at her and one might get the sense of a certain .. satisfaction that's in the man's gaze when he looks at the ship's captain. He turns to nod to Maggie, "I'll see what I can find, I should probably grab a moment to make a call or two now that I won't be waking anyone up...that and find some more coffee as well." Jacen glances over towards the noise of the cat and the waking Liyandra, lifts an eyebrow slightly, then offers a nod in greeting..moving in round about fashion to catch up with Catriona before he goes below, a hand sneaking around her waist and drawing her to him for a moment to steal a kiss in greeting for the morning and a few quiet words before he steps away and heads down below.

Liya glances over to Maggie as she hears her voice, catching the words that are spoken. The Sukhoti woman looks perfectly at ease on the deck of a ship, even a ship this size. Coincidentally, so does Mayhem. Liya gets to her feet, folding up her bedroll and blanket, and then she tucks it out of the way with her remaining things. "Good morning," she replies to Maggie. "I think some tea would be lovely, and maybe a bit of water, if that can be managed." She smiles at everyone else, but doesn't say anything more for the moment, instead just moving to unbraid her hair, so it can be tidied up for the day, not really part of the group.

Shaking her head, Maggie looks up into the rigging where the hawk can just be seen doing whatever it is hawks do, "Yeah, Captain." That is in reply to Merrisol's pet comment, "A hawk. But, he is not mine. I seem to recall him, or a bird like him, flying above us on the walk over from the Inn. Which is odd. Aren't hawks day time hunters?" Clearly she does not know anything about birds. "Anyway. He isn't a pet. Though I may have been adopted. I hear it happens that way sometimes." Shrugging, she looks over to Jacen, "Thanks. Let me know if you find anything. I'll sew it in later." She does grin a bit at Jacen's way of greeting the ship's Captain and averts her eyes. Liya's request is answered by a nod, "I can step below and get something sent up, Liya. Breakfast is calling." Pushing from the railing, she starts that way, "Does anyone else want anything while I am down there?"

Catriona accepts the kiss from Jacen with enthusiasm and then a blush, perhaps at the gesture done so openly, or perhaps at his hushed words. Whatever it was, when the blonde steps away, there is a delicate pink on her milky-white cheeks and she is... smiling. "Of course, my lord. A hawk, you say?" Her head tilts back to the rigging, her grin curving wider. "On the open seas? I would say, Captain Flame, that you've not found a hawk. You've found a Karm. Just be glad he is not using the phoenix, this day," Catriona cautions Maggie as she heads to the helm, relieving the man there of his duty to find some sleep. "Breakfast is below. I hope you all slept well?" Her dark green gaze lingers on each deck occupant in question.

Merrisol turns with Maggie but doesn't follow along. "I haven't seen Mordecai or Shao yet, though I wonder if they rose early to offer their services in the galley," he says after her. "I'll check around for them while I get the bedding back in order, and rejoin you soon, Captain Flame." He pauses to attend Catriona's information about the mysterious hawk, and casts a brief look into the sails and rigging himself.. but nothing appears to be smoking much. "Yes, thank you, Captain," he presently replies to the general query.

Maggie pauses to look up into the rigging at Catriona's information, "Huh. Walter? I didn't know he could do that... Handy." Then she startles and her eyes flash back to Catriona, "Well. I think I'll pass, actually. Singed ball gown and blistered skin is not my idea of a fun evening." Though there is a flash of a smile, "Though you seem to have survived it." Starting for the hatch once more, she nods to Merrisol, her attention settling on him, "Okay. Thank you. Best to take stock of the crew. Make sure no one rolled off during the night. See you later, then." Breakfast bound then, she steps that way with a list. Tea for Liya, water for Mayhem... More coffee and foods. The day is good.

"Thank you, Ma - Captain Flame," Liya says, with a smile on her face, hearing Merrisol's words. She concentrates on her hair, as she wants it out of her way. Mayhem chirrups again, and she chuckles. "Patience, kitten," she says, warmth in her voice. She takes a breath then, and stretches. Her gaze goes up to the rigging as she spies others looking up there, but she isn't necessarily hearing the whole conversation.

Catriona gives a polite smile, then, but her attention is turned to steering the vessel, consulting with Quinlan as she does.

Merrisol pivots and makes his way back Aft alongside the rail, tossing the remaining drops of his coffee over the side with a flick of his cup. "Liyandra," he re-greets as he gets closer, kneeling to take the folded blankets to the safety of the dry, heather-lined trunk for the group's linens. "If you'll allow me to move your personal items to a locker, I can do that and bring back something from the dry stores for.." he gestures to the rather vocal feline, "..Mayhem to nibble while he waits. A few dozen kippers might do.."

Liya pauses as Merrisol simply and efficiently puts things away nice and dry. And then she does manage a smile. "I can put my things in a locker, now that we are settled somewhat and everyone is not hither and fro, in the way of the crew." She pauses, and then says, "But if you wish to assist, I would be glad of the help." She also glances down at Mayhem, at the topic, and she chuckles. "I think feeding the kitten might be more important than feeding me. He has the potential to be far crankier."

"And for how much longer is he to be considered... a kitten?" Merrisol asks drolly, offering his knuckles out as he crouches by the various cases and retinues, for Mayhem to sniff or bat, before he goes and collects some of the cat's mistress' heavier things.

Liya does pause at that question, looking over at Mayhem, and then back to Merrisol. "Well," she starts, "Truthfully, I am not sure. But his eyes are still blue, which is usually a sign of a kitten, his ears are too big for him and so are his paws. So I guess, he won't be a kitten any more once he grows into them." She pauses, a hand reaching to pet the kitten, and then she says, "I had a discussion where we came to the speculation that he might be a Shadow-version of a jaguar. And research suggests that they live with their mothers for two years after birth."

Merrisol nods with satisfaction as the subject of Mayhem's species gains weight, so to speak. "Forgive me, he is rather larger than the domesticated breeds I know about, and chalked it up to the wistful desire to see him as a baby, still," he grins. "What's that they say, about the trouble with kittens.. is they grow up to be cats. Jaguars, even.." Between himself and Liya, and no thanks to gamboling Mayhem, they get the Sukhoti's possession over to the personal lockers.

Time passed aboard the ship with morning easing naturally toward noon and then beyond. Coffee and breakfast was dolled out, send up by Maggie who volunteered to help in the kitchens for a while. Once clean up below was finished, she returned to the deck, bustling and cheerful. Jacen was apparently successful in finding something to use as a cushion for her shoulder for she carries a bit of padding and some tools of the tailor's trade with her. Glancing around, she spots Liyandra and angles that way, "Liya? Do you know how to sew?" Oh, man. Maggie, apparently, cannot.

Mordecai was also helping out in the kitchens. A little too much, he may have annoyed the cook.

Shao appears from below, a cup of steaming drink in hand. He goes for the starboard rail, to watch the sky marry with the ocean.

Merrisol is over by the community trunk, storing away a checkers set that had seen a few rounds with various participants. Sitting at the open edge, he reaches down and pulls up a deck of cards.. who put that in there..? He just as quickly drops it and covers it over with Mordecai's spare drawing pad and.. ping pong paddles? Now, really. He looks askance at Shao by the rail. Maggie's call out to Liya has him looking around to hear the answer. Liyandra can't possibly sew!

Liya has been on the deck, helping out where needed. When Maggie comes out and calls to her, she's busy working through some stretches, hair totally braided once more, and out of the way. She blinks, and turns to face Maggie, with some grace. "Sew? Me? Uhm - I asked the seamstress in the shop in the city to do the sewing I needed," she admits. A little shrug and she adds, "I haven't a clue, really, other than a needle and thread should be used."

Mordecai comes topside. "You want pretty, or you want done?"

Shao sips, watching the horizon, listening to the waves kissing the hull and the wind teasing the sails.

Looking a bit torn between laughter and resigned, Maggie nods to Liya, "Guess I should look into hiring one for the crew then." She flickers a glance to where Merrisol has hidden something. A brow lifts, but she is distracted from commenting by Mordecai's query, "Done. I don't much care what it looks like." Lifting the pad and sewing impliments, she motions to her shoulder, "I need a shoulder pad attached in case the bird decides to use me as a perch again. If you don't mind? I'll get my other shirts from the cabin." That will make her lopsided, but it is a small price to pay. Those talens are sharp. "Thanks."

Mordecai digs around in his pack, comes up with a surgeon's needle and catgut. "Works just as well if you don't need pretty."

Maggie nods to Mordecai, "Thanks. Just a sec." Turning on her heel, she walks back toward the hatch to the hold. On the way, she waves to the back of Shao's head though she is positive he won't spot it. Though the man is quick and observant so maybe he will. Then she ghosts back down into the hold, headed for her borrowed cabin.

Liya laughs, agreeing with Maggie. "Sorry," she says. Mayhem moves his paw, reaching out to try to get Liya's ankle, and she has to quick step out of the way. "Mayhem!" she scolds, with a laugh that takes the sting out of it. "Though honestly, Maggie - I don't remember if I have ever even tried to sew something, so maybe? But that won't help you much right now."

The wind changes a hair, blowing a tad stronger. The Duchess rolls a bit higher than usual. Shao bends over the rail, looking down to the deeps.

Returning once more from below, Maggie carries several shirts with her. Unlike Catriona's, Maggies are almost all one shade of green or another. They range from emerald to an almost sea-green. She has found enough padding to make one for each, but is flummoxed by the needle and thread thing. Turning them over to Mordecai, she offers the clever surgeon a grin, "Thanks. That will save my shoulder from the ravages of Walter's talons. Though maybe I should suggest a pedicurist. Do pedicurists do hawks talons? I'm not sure."

Mordecai takes them, sits, and gets to work. "Wrong person to ask," she says, curved needle working quickly.

"I just assumed it wasn't in your power to repair a rip when Mayhem plucked a strip from this coat," Merrisol volunteers insight to Liya from his spot at the toy trunk, before delving back in to rummage around. He comes back up with a couple of blunt-edged practice swords which he puts aside on the deck.

Shao keeps looking deepward. The powers of air and water combine efforts to rock the boat again. Heave, Ho! Shao hoists the breakfast's colors and feeds the fishies with them.

Watching Mordecai for a while, as though she could learn from pure observation, Maggie tilts her head to one side. "Well, I guess, Mordecai. I don't know anyone who could answer that one, really. Hawks are hunting birds, so... They need their talons. Just not in me." Turning, she scans the deck, sort of taking stock. Noting Shao's lowered gaze, she moves off to join him by the railing. Leaning against it, but not looking down, she lets the wind of their passage blow through her hair. The long braid sways down her back. Finally, she looks down as well. "What are you look..." She shies back then and winces, "Um... Are... you okay?"

Liya glances at Kerf, and she grins. "If I had thought of that, I'd have done so," she acknowledges. "So, you are correct, I certainly do not recall how to sew, if I ever knew." She moves towards Mayhem, finding a toy stick for him to play with. She takes a bit of the deck, and tosses it. Mayhem tears off after it, much like a dog. Course when he gets the stick, he has to stop Right there. In the middle of the deck. And KILL it deaddeaddead.

Mordecai whistles idly as he works.

"Yes," Shao lies, recovering to show lividity, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He washes down the bad taste with a swallow of tea and smiles for Maggie. He notices the others gathered around clothings and toying with various tools, over there. "Do you need my help?" he offers Maggie.

Merrisol nods to Liya, attention then roving over to the Penglai hanging over the rail like some undulating scrap of sail. Uhhh, oh good, Maggie's got this. But he leans over and hunts the supply chest for a water pouch. He shakes it once to verify its containing a quantity, then holds it up for Shao. "Ahh, all right," he notices the tea bowl, and uncorks the canteen to take a swig for himself.

"I could use a hand, Shao, if Captain Flame doesn't require it," Merrisol adds, as he repacks the chest with various sundries.

Maggie nods when Shao says he is okay. "If you are sure. I am pretty certain we packed some anti-sea sickness meds. It does ease, though. After you get used to it. It's an inner ear thing." Watching to be sure that the tea does not make an immediate reappearance, she lingers, "Need you for something? Well, not right this moment. We just need to get there at this point." There. Merrisol is given a quick smile at the offer, and she adds, "Oh, and be sure to stay hydrated. Hard to do when your stomach is rebelling, but it is important." There? There. She turns her gaze that way once more. Soon... Is that a smear of darkness gathering on the horizon? She blinks and holds one hand out and down. It is an automatic gesture as though she fully expects something useful will be placed there. Gesturing with her chin, she asks, "Do you see that? What is it?" Cloud? Smoke? Noting? Hearing Mordecai, Maggie turns a smile his way, "Thanks. Staying busy is always good."

Mordecai squints at the horizon, but doesn't get up, still sewing.

Shao says, "Yes, Captain Merrisol," and "Yes, Captain Flame." Following the hierarchy, he looks to the horizon, then back at Maggie. "There is a spyglass for you, under the deck? I find it at the Stuff of Shadows?" he reminds, speaking softly. He represses a hickup. "Excuse me," he adds, before leaving the rail to side by Merrisol.

Merrisol clunks the latch back on the trunk, gets one boot heeled on the side, and gives it a shove back out of the way. Straightening, he shades his eyes with one hand to sight the far horizon as well, like he might get a better picture from his somewhat taller vantage. "Map say any land to be had in that direction?" he wonders to Maggie. He glances over at Shao and raises his other hand, in which is held both blunted swords by their handles. "I need to gauge what skill I possess with the blade," he explains. If any. "And I'd like to determine that -before- trouble begins. Would you mind?"

Mordecai blinks at Merrisol, looks between the amnesiacs. "Grease and grime," he mutters, "Am I the only one burdened with memory?"

Maggie shakes her head slowly, "Not... on the map, no. But, this is Amber and we are sailing into Shadow. I am not manipulating the Shadow. Quin may have brought land to us before subtracting it. Or, we might be closer to one of the islands than I thought." Her hand does that, 'give it here' thing and she looks down to stare it it. "Um. Apparently, I unconsciously expect something to be handed to me right about now. Odd." She watches the sword hand off begin and the hand turns to rest on the handle of her cutlass. "Good idea." Then, "I need a spyglass. There is one in the trunk, yes?"

Merrisol thinks for a moment on Maggie's question. "Third locker," he tells Maggie, indicating the stores for personal effects. "Black case, brass trim."
Shao nods for Merrisol, taking one of the swords. He weighs it, tests the grip and the balance, showing no emotion. He takes a step back from Merriol and raises his practice sword in an acceptable guard position. "I defend only?" he asks.

Maggie nods to Merrisol, "Thanks." Before moving off, she watches the two duelists get ready. "You should try cat's paw." Then she blinks and frowns, turning away. Where did that come from? What does it mean? Why is it relevant? The memory whirls around in her head a while, rattling and crashing and trying to come into the clear. A hand lifts to her temple just about the time she makes it to the locker. Opening it; the locker, not her temple, Maggie focuses on the case inside. Slowly lifting it, she shakes off the percistant but indistinct memory to open the case and lift out the spyglass.

Mordecai watches Maggie carefully, hands automatic in his sewing. He's not embroidering, here.

Merrisol stands back, having divested his waistcoat for this, and pauses pensively over Maggie's strange remark. He shakes it off and looks at Shao, his study and handling of the 'blade'. "At first," he amends. "Ramp it up if you must.. it's okay." Half turning and with a last glance over the rail to the smudgy horizon, he holds this own sword closer, blade resting in the crook of his hand while he focuses on it and tries to dredge up something.. an image, a feeling, for it. "What are you to me," he murmurs too low for any but the highly tuned senses to catch. His gaze cuts to the side at Shao, hard, intent flashing in his eyes as he releases the blade end and arcs his arm in full extension, stepping into the blow he aims for Shao's blade arm.

Shao takes a half-step sideways while twisting his wrist inward, his off-hand coming to the handle to secure the grip, placing his sword in an angle that would deviate Merrisol's line and let it slide, instead of blocking it. The Penglai man shows nor fear or joy in this, only concentration from the way he frowns slightly. "Look at me, please," he says sternly.

Maggie catches Mordecai's look and offers a smile. The headache will fade, or the memory will come through. Taking the spyglass carefully around the duelists, she darts up the stairs to the forecastle. As she moves, she looks at the spyglass for a moment or two, then unfolds it. Once the sections have come cleanly together, she holds it up to her eye to peer through. Whe does hold it properly, which is a good thing. Training the glass on the smear, she waits a few moments, lowers the glass to look with her naked eye, then looks through the glass once more.

Mordecai offers, idly, "You have a dark ring around your eye, now."

While the blades don't connect with parrying force, the resulting clack is loud enough to be heard all around the deck. With a grating swish, Merrisol's effort skates from Shao's like a whetstone, pulling the taller man forward from unsoaked momentum. Shao's advice draws his focus up, and he nods grimly. He'd been watching his strike path closely, not Shao's face. With a pivot on his forward heel he makes a quarter turn and steps back from Shao's range even if the man doesn't take a swing. With superior reach, he flicks his wrist to try and clip Shao's blade tip aside as he closes in once more. Eyes up this time.

Shao sidesteps again, letting Merrisol's blade pushe his own, yet putting his body a tad out of Merrisol's expected location. "Do not think, do," Shao instructs calmly. Maybe his defense is not enough to foil Merrisol's attack?

Maggie lowers the spyglass as she catches Mordecai's comment. She does not move or look away from the horizon, however, "Lack of sleep on one side. Tomorrow it will be the other way." Dark circle or not, she flickers Mordecai a smile and a wink, then goes back to scanning the horizon yonder. "I think it's a storm. But we aren't going that way, so we should miss it. Might make for some nasty waves later, though." Hearing the resounding clack, she folds the spyglass away and moves to the aft portion of the forecastle to watch. Many other sailors, those not on duty, move in to see the show.

Mordecai keeps sewing. Calls out, "Let me know if I need to stitch anyone up."

Merri's brows knit in a mixture of confusion and impatience, backswing succesful but the strike missing its mark as Shao scoots and instructs, effortlessly it seems. A half-spin, an arc turned aside, someone chuckles. "Damn it, Shao. Can't do, until I know.. can't know, unless I think.." Merrisol argues when they separate and face-off once more. That is why you fail, Merri. With a shake of his head, he lifts his other hand to curl the lower half of the hilt, and a shadow seems to pass across his eyes. "The weight is wrong," he mutters. But maybe that's just an excuse to give up. He sidles back into range, and tries once more in a series of angled swings to knock Shao off-balance.

Mordecai keeps Maggie in stitches. Or something.

Shao is not showing expert swordsmanship, only a general grasp of beating and wrapping, and which end of a tool is business. Shao backs-off, letting his sword point down by holding it above shoulder's height, so it covers for his upper body with lesser efforts. Moving out of harm's way has its limits, namely Mordecai. Shao cannot go further back, nor dodge, without putting the surgeon in danger. The Penglai man moves his sword out of the way and lets Merrisol last swing hit.

Mordecai is "watching" the spar. In actuality, he's sewing on women's clothes. With a curved surgery needle.

Liya had taken off to get some exercise and some for Mayhem, chasing stick, and otherwise being silly, but out of the way. Liya, though she's far more used to smaller ships, has enough ship sense to stay out of the way of the work being done, and she keeps Mayhem out of the way too, as the pair do a nice circle. And eventually they make their way back, pausing as the sparring match is noted.

Tirelessly, Merrisol pushes Shao back, the blades meeting more frequently now in parries that start to seem more calculated than random. He watches the Penglai angling his defense, perhaps looking to conserve energy against the swings. A fleeting grin at the idea, but he still shakes his head, puzzled. When the opening is presented, Merri draws up his practice sword, hesitating. Well, fine, just a tap.. for Great Progress. He sweeps his arm down to lay a faint smack to Shao's ribs...

...and the deck heaves beneath him, sending him staggering a pace. Not just him, though. Under everyone. The ship's heading yaws to port, beginning an alarming tilt as wind rushes sidewards into the sails.

Mordecai reaches up and grabs onto support. He's already sitting.

Shao smiles to Merrisol, when he feels the sword pat his flank. The sails clap under a gust of wind and the ship rocks noticeably, ruining Shao's bow to the victor. Shao keeps his balance, somehow. And his lunch.

Liya is not sitting, but somehow, she reaches for a hand hold, bracing herself just before the deck heaves, and she manages, just at the last second to catch Mayhem as well. "Looks like we get fun now," she calls out.

Maggie is still up on the forecastle, watching the two below. A smile warms her face to see the outcome. Which is spoiled in a way as the ship heels over to port a bit. Startled, she looks up to starboard. That stain? A gust of wind whooshes by and she automatically does two things. One is to reach for a hat that is not there. Has not been there. Should be there? The other is to put her other hand out again as though she expects to be handed... something. That imperious hand. She looks down at it in growing consternation... then fishes the spyglass out of her pocket to look. Sweeping the horizon from the storm and away again. "It is headed this way." The glass is folded as she lowers it and tucks it away. "This is Captain Catriona's ship, but as she is busy below, batten down the hatches, people. It still might miss us, but let's be ready."

Mordecai says, "Of course it is. Because you spoke aloud that it wasn't going to. Therefore it had to be onery."

The wind keeps steady in the sails, the Duchess's roll recedes to its previous amplitude but she rocks harder now; it looks like the waves have swelled a little. Those looking at the horizon will see the storm has grown a bit closer.

Shao stumbles a few misteps, missing Mordecai by inches. Maybe the surgeon can make the pidgin Thari-Penglai trail of bad words Shao is muttering. Shao looks like he needs a moment to find back his baby sea-legs before he can act upon Flame's orders.

Mordecai reaches up to catch, but it seems Shao doesn't need it.

The swells do not relax, but keep to a steady surging. It is low, yet, sort of calming in an up and down sort of way. Maggie braces her legs against the railing on the forecastle and watches the ocean a moment or two. There is a frown growing between her brows and she touches a hand to her forehead to shade her vision. A troubling notion is growing within. Still, there is work to be done. Leaving the forecastle, she passes sailors at work clearing the deck and preparing for a storm. She moves to their pile of baggage and begins sorting things. "Everything that will fit goes into my cabin. We'll lash down the rest."

Liya doesn't even pause, as she moves to start doing exactly what Flame is suggesting. Mayhem stays right at her side, the big kitten apparently not needing to run off and play with storms. "Let me know if there's anything in particular you want me to focus on," she says, though she does give Merrisol a big smile. "Kerf, thanks for the help with the locker earlier!"

Mordecai seems to be fine with the pitching and yawing, as if this was nothing new to him. He has his sea legs as he starts to stow things away, including Maggie's altered clothes.

Shao comes to Merrisol's help to secure the blunted swords. "Hai, Captain Flame," he answers Maggie, letting her know he understands.

Merrisol swipes his coat up from the deck before it gets too trampled, shrugging into it before he continues with the heavy work, disappearing down below with the linen trunk.

Steady as she goes! The wind and the sea keep steady, letting the Duchess's crew and passenger acclimate to the new sway. For the moment.

Mordecai says, "I'll set up down below in case of injuries."

Once her folk are doing their part to make sure the ship's goods and their own belongings are stored below or lashed to the deck, Maggie returns to the forecastle. She stands up there, surveying the scene of ordered chaos below her on the decks, then nodsd once with satisfaction, "Once everything is secured, everyone who isn't working get below." She smiles to Mordecai, "Thanks, doc." If the storm comes too much closer, they will lose less and maybe people will be okay too, "If you are prone to seasickness, find a bucket." Eww. Although the gusts of wind do not increase, the swells of the ocean do. Gradually.

Quinlan is at the bow, as he was before, handling the shifting of shadow. He seems all right with the standard swaying of the decking with the waves.

Liya is not at all prone to seasickness, nor is Mayhem. In fact, Liya stays above decks to help turn her balance and skill to use, where needed. She moves over to Maggie, and simply says, "Let me know what needs my help. I am not likely to get sick, but I am not as familiar with these big ships as you all are." The swell of the waves disconcerts her not at all, as she adjusts automatically to the differences. Mayhem mrowls, not entirely sure he likes the scent of the air.
Shao returns from below, where he had followed the others, with a wool blanket. After a quick glance at the deck, he climbs up the stairs to the castle. "Lady Liyandra," Shao says, offering the blanket. "For Mayhem, if you need to carry him."

As the ship continues on course, the sea continues to be choppy, swells and waves hurrying away from the storm pitch and roll the vessel like a toy in a giant's bathtub. Froth begins to appear on the wavelettes; a testament to the storm's power. The angle of the storm seems almost to coincide with the path they are taking, the distance closing ever so slowly. Perhaps they will outrun it after all...

Maggie remains on the forecastle, the increasing wind rippling her braid down her back and snapping the deep green cloak she wears. That spyglass is used time and again as she tries to dredge up memory, tries to find her own way through to help the ship. Some things seem automatic, others less so. And every time her hand lifts as though to be handed something. Something. That imperious hand. She looks at it as though it belongs to someone else. Gradually, a new question forms in the back of her mind and will not let go no matter how many times she shoves it into its mental locker.

Even though Catriona's First Mate would be the one carrying out Maggie's direct command and calling out her orders from the forecastle, Merrisol moves amongst the labouring crewmen, seeing that they are all of the same mind on their tasks, all geared towards the latest commands, and putting the storm behind them.

Liya glances over towards the storm, seemingly not surprised by it. She rests a hand on Mayhem's head, as she moves to help with fastening down anything left on deck that needs to be kept. Or bringing it below decks. There's a calm steadiness about her, as she works efficiently. In fact, as she starts to work, she begins to sing a sea chant about preparing for a storm, one that is easy to work to, helping to time things, and at the same time, brings a reminder that every storm runs out of rain.

It may or may not be helping matters that the ship is traveling through universes as it travels through the weather. Quinlan keeps a tight grip on the hull, just focusing on doing his part of the overall task; keeping the ship on course, shadow-wise, for Minos.

Shao steps out of Liyandra's way, tucking the wool blanket under his arm. He stays by Maggie's side, just at the corner of her eye, hanging to the railing.

It isn't that the storm is following them, truly. It is probable that each of the shifts Quin manifests is independent of the strom. Each shift does seem to ease the storm farther behing them. Still, the sky above grows by degrees darker or lighter depending on their location in relation to the storm. As well, the color of the sea changes correspondingly.

Turning, Maggie does spot Shao where he hangs and she offers him a smile. Surveying the deck once more, she calls an order to tighten a sail and ease another. Seems that there is no First Mate, for the order is not repeated. She frowns, head tilting to one side as an unfamiliar reaction takes her in a wave. It strikes her the way that imperious hand does. Off putting. Unnatural? Or natural and forgotten? Shaking it off, she realizes that she hears singing and Liya is offered a thumbs up, then, "Captain Merrisol? Captain Catriona does not seem to have a First Mate. Since she left me in charge, would you please do the honors?"

Liya doesn't exactly do what Kerf is doing, since he's got it covered. She does however, find a nice spot on the deck, near Maggie and Shao, and she continues to sing. It's at least something to keep the crew morale up, as they work. The storm doesn't seem to have won a lot of the Sukhoti woman's attention. She does flash a smile to Maggie at the thumb's up, and then to Shao as well, as he moves to leave her room over there with Maggie. Shao's taking care of them - it's noticed.

Quinlan keeps his grip on the hull until the waves die down. They are also, at least briefly, a particular shade of neon pink rarely seen out of ten-year-old's bedrooms. Thankfully, that doesn't last.

Merrisol returns from across the deck, for about the same reason - lack of yelling coming from the forecastle. Someone lost their voice, or... "Oh..?" he holds the staircase railings, leaning upwards to hear his Captain's update on the situation. "I thought," he starts, then cuts his own thought off to nod briskly. "Nevermind." He pivots to face the other way to shout the previous sail orders clear across the deck in resounding baritone. The cry is taken up to confirm its task being done.

Maggie seems relieved when the waves subside. She darts Quin a smile that turns to a strangled gasp of astonishment at the cotton candy colored sea. Relief flashes across her brow when the color is gone again, "Wow. So glad that is not the seas I generally sail. That would give me a fierce headache." Her attention slips to Merrisol and she shrugs, "Her preference. I didn't ask. But, thank you." Again, she looks out over the sea, then up toward the rigging, "Shao-san? There is room up in the crow's nest for two easily enough. Can you climb up there and let me know what you see?" She offers the man the spyglass that she has kept in her pocket since claiming it earlier.

"Hai, Captain," Shao says over the wind. He accepts the spyglass, secures it in his sash and moves to the main mast, dodging a crewman. He looks up. After a deep breath, he begins climbing, pausing when the wind or rocking makes him uneasy. This will take some time.

As Quinlan manipulates reality, the world around the vessel starts looking more and more like the seas of Minos. And as they near, now and then - more and more often - ships can be seen winking in and out of existence. Minosian ships.

Liya sings, but once past the pink! seas, there is a moment of hesitation. She continues to sing, and then she rubs the back of her neck. Mayhem yowls plaintively, and Liya's hand on his head pets gently. Then she stops singing, taking a few steps one way, and then the other. "Maggie," she says, now speaking up. "Something is different," she starts with. A hesitation and then, "The storm was just a storm but there's something coming. Or - something there. It's a feeling I have. Maybe something beneath the water?" She's got a sensation in her stomach and head, hackles raised, just like that trip to Sukho.

Per chance, the gusting wind calms down for a spell, allowing Shao to make good progress upward. He takes a pause, this time to look around the ship.

Maggie pauses when the singing stops. She turns a frown to Liyandra, then listens. "What do you mean under?" Then she looks out toward the storm, but cannot see anything. Waves are beginning to jostle the ship once more. That frown begins anew and she leans toward Merrisol, "Get a report from Shao-san, please. I want to know what he sees." Since he is at a vantage point they don't have. And Merrisol's voice is just perfect for the job. Looking over her shoulder, she almost asks Quin what he sees or senses but he is busy getting them there. Nodding, she waits then for Shao's report.

Merrisol comes the rest of the way up the stairs to assume a position to one side of Maggie. Kept busy by the storm and the ship's constant need for adjustment, he hasn't yet given a lot of contemplation to the way the seascape and sky fluctuates around the ship. Thankful at least for the obvious veteran nature of the deckhands in the brain-melting face of infinite horizons, he spares an impressed glance towards Quinlan of the pranky parlour tricks. Short-lived though, as he receives new orders. "Ayeaye, Captain," he calls as he steps back down to yowl upwards at Shao, "What news from the crow's view?"

Shao makes that, from Merrisol. He waves back at them. He scans again, this time using a hand as a visor. Soon he spots something, something he wishes to confirm using the spyglass. What he sees through the lense? Has him almost lose his grip, or the viewing tool. He aims his voice to Maggie and Merrisol, howling, "YAIJUUUUUU! Big ANIMAL!" He also points insistantly toward it. "Get the AXES!"

Quinlan shouts, "Ignore it!" without looking away from his view. "We'll shift away from it soon enough. Adjust course so we don't go head on at it!"

There is something so right about hearing her orders translated to the crew in that fashion. It is just... Right. Maggie shadows Merrisol a quick smile and nod of approval and thanks, then looks up to where Shao is. She stands with legs slightly parted, hands clasped behind her back. And then Shao spots something in the water, confirming Liyandra's warnings of doom. She looks first up to the man at the crow's nest, then out to the water, as though she could see the animal. Animal? Drat. So much for it being Martin leading a welcome party of Rebman folk and Sirens. Martin riding in a dolphin pulled chariot of pearl. That? Maggie would love to see. This? Not as cool. Nodding to Quinlan, Maggie steps forward, "Captain Merrisol. Adjust the sails to bring us to starbord, sir." In her element? Maybe. "And have the crew break out the boarding axes as Shao-san suggested. Just in case." Then, "Liyandra? Let us know when we can relax, please. Oh, and Captain Merrisol? Please tell Shao-san to keep us posted, but to return to the deck when we are clear of the creature. Whatever it is."

Whatever it is, it creeps Liya out. She is staring in that direction now, her hands subconsciously at her waist, where her knives are. She's not drawing them, but she's watching. She darts a glance Quin-wards, and then up to the crow's nest as that confirmation comes in. Dreaded, but expected, all the same. Liya's breath exhales, and then she says, "Aye, Captain," without any hesitation at all. Mayhem is on all fours, crouched down like he's thinking of pouncing. The rumble out of the cat, in reaction to Liya's emotions and body language - he's growling.

Quinlan seems to have little to say; he's focused on his job, which is to get the ship from here to there without it being sunk or swallowed by anything.

"Aye, Captain," calls her Mate from the deck just below, having turned to yell out the sail commands immediately before checking back to gather the less crucial orders. He strides off across the lurching deck, overseeing one part of the rigging operation that angles one section of sails into the wind, guiding the prow to the right. "Master Shao, return to your post when we have the creature to starboard!" He calls up the main mast and walks on by to assign a selection of crew to the task of collecting the boarding axes from a particular crate down below.

Shao shouts back, "Hai, Captain!", thumbs up one thumb and returns to watching. From time to time, he points in the direction of the sea monster when he sees it, the rest of the time he scans around. It seems the unnamed danger is in fact both fading from existance and being brought to port, little by little.

Soon the ship is rocked by things other than waves. Sea creatures leaping and jumping out of the water as they fly before the behemoth behind them. Splashing and splishing, spraying the deck, the rigging and the crew with sea water. Some land flopping and flipping and skittering across the deck. Maggie spares them but a glance, though she lifts her voice, "Get someone to catch those, please, Captain Merrisol. We can have fresh fish when this is over." And maybe Mayhem can have one of his very own. The kitten gets a quick glance, but that is all the attention spared for the guy. Although they are not low on provisions. And why should Merrisol see to that? She shakes her head, almost as though trying to dislodge a bug from her brow. "Belay that last, Captain." Leaning over, she points to a sailor who; while not lounging, is not as involved in the race away from the sea creature, "You? Please gather the fish. Thanks." Standing up again, she frowns, though it is an inward thing. And then the shadows shift and the seas are calm. Sort of. Instead of whatever the creature was off to port, there is a ship. A ship sailing closer to their position, formed of dark wood with dark sails and a dark flag. That shadow flickers and is gone. What was a ship is now a cresting whale, blowing and arching to rise above the sea and crash back down atain.

Quinlan is hanging on to the hull for dear life, and paying no heed to anything but his work; get them out of this reality and into a hopefully kinder one. He does, however, look a lot like a drowned scarecrow with the water dousing him.

Mordecai is below decks, having set up a medlab should there be casualties.

From up the mast, Shao confirms, "BIG FISH! All GOOD!" He reaches for a line, one that goes all the way down close to Maggie. Climibing down a line is way faster than a mast. Soon enough, he is next to Maggie. "Shao, back to *flap*". A large carp just collided with his skull. Shao stumbles and sit against the rail, legs spilled. Carp is flapping and flailing.

Liya has been through enough shadow trips that she's not phased by the phasing. She keeps watch on that direct line, where whatever it was is making her hackles raise. As fish and such come flopping aboard, water spraying wildly, she gets wet as does Mayhem. The kitten's fur is not so long, and he looks like a wet cat, but he doesn't get that bedraggled drowned rat look so many cats show. In fact, getting wet merely shows off the compact solid lines he has. Liya ignores that, ducking out of the way of a fish that tries to spit her with a long snout, at just the last moment, and said fish goes flopping across the deck. From large something to ship, to cresting whale, and Liya breathes a sigh of relief. "Shao-san is, I think, right," she adds her bit.

Brief bouts of exclamation rise from various hands on deck, in reaction to the smatter of shiny-skinned snappers, or perhaps flying mackerel, or both and more, now flopping about underfoot. Merrisol arches a glance at Maggie as she proposes a harvest of fish for dinner, turns to relay it, only to let the order die on his lips with another turn towards the forecastle. Perhaps Captain Flame had a lucky premonition though, since First Mate's superfluous turning saves him getting a shimmering straggler right in the kisser. Instead, it smacks him in the back and leaves a trail of scales down the length of his coat. Ugh. Merri barely notices, really, as he, along with other deck hands, pause to watch the spectacular sequence of the leviathan - dread ship - whale go pop pop pop. "...Show's over, back to your stations," Merrisol orders, a little subdued.

Quinlan eases up a little on his deathgrip on the hull, looking very...drowned rat. Wet clothes do not flatter toaster rack chests. But he's held his concentration this far; the ship still flickers through Shadow.

But, poor Liya. The trip through shadow is not yet over and the wheel of posibility turns again. A gold sky arches over head while butterfly fish dip through the sails and skim over heads. Beautiful wings, peacock blue with black spots flap wettly overhead. One pauses to rest on Maggie's head, the blue looking like a fetching hat, but for the mouth moving to extract air and the long, cat-fish-like tendrils. She shudders and it takes off again. Shift and a long tenticle rises and angles toward Liya only to vanish as a waterspout rises to starboard. "Come to port, Captain Merrisol." If Maggie notices the fish scales down the man's coat, she is not saying a word. Not a word. There is too much to watch.

Mordecai is missing all the visuals. Someone's making sketches, right?

The hatch from below deck opened, Sir Bashar climbing out and up to the open sky. "Goodness gracious," he said to anyone who was within earshot, pausing a moment to yawn into his fist. "I just had the most tumultious dream. There was this giant grandfather clock, you see. Massive really. And there I was on the swingy thingy, ermm, the pendulum! Right, the pendulum. And there were these fuzzy... they looked kind of like monkeys. Each one had a bucket and they were all taking turns splashing one another as the pendulum went back and forth, back and forth." Bashar made swinging motions with his hand, almost as if bunding a baseball bat. "I'm surprised I didn't wake up with a headache." Sighing, he looked around deck, noting the general level of disarray and the flopping of fishes upon the deck. "Oh. Did I miss anything important?"

Using the rail as his support, Shao rises. "I will be down below," he informs to whomever this blur nearby is. A valiant wish that is not fulfilled: Shao is struck with nausea and has to lean over the railing to ease his stomach. He clings there, moaning.

Liya is just relaxing as the shadow switches, and the tentacle comes rising up. Her danger sense screams and she ducks, flattening on the deck, only to have the tentacle vanish, leaving her feeling like she should be gibbering. She closes her eyes, muttering Sukhoti curses that hopefully nobody else understands. And then Mayhem comes over to lick her face, just adding to the insult. Dignity, where did you go? She gets to her feet, taking a wary look around now. "Water spout?" she calls out, in case it's not obvious.

The first casualty makes his way down to Mordecai's triage. He'd made the mistake of grabbing a carp through the mouth instead of gaffing the gills, and it totally bit him. He sits for stitches and tells Mordecai alllll about it.

And finally, things begin to settle. The sky gains and retains that particular color of blue that it has in and around Minos... The water is also just crystalline and clean. Oh, other than that spot of tumult over there. Where? Why there. Where there is a glowering grey rumble of lightening and thunder. A contained mess of rain, or sleet or hail. And what is that right on the edge of the storm? Why, could it be? It is. The Wave Dancer, rolling on stormy seas. And on the other end? A shimmer and sparkle, a flash of... What?

Quinlan exhales, pushing wet hair out of his face. "We're in the right shadow," he calls. "...I'm going to dry off now, salt in my pants gets really itchy."

"Goodness gracious." Bashar repeated, coming to Shao's side and lending him a sturdy hand. "You look a bit worse for wear, Master Shao." Together the two made it below deck where the Jadite might have the opportunity to recover. Bashar was hardly gone, having seen Shao to safety and return forthwith to the dock. Nearly bumping into Quinlan on his return, he replied to the man's remark, "I may have an ointment for that."

Mordecai calls up, "We stop moving about?"

Liya looks over at Bashar, and she chuckles. "No, not really," she says. "Just a little storm and a run from danger that we didn't have to fight." She is finally relaxing, when her danger sense twangs with all the subtlety of a brick to the side of her head. "Oh, lava rocks," she grumbles and then switches languages to say, "Maggie - in case you didn't know, that is a little on the dangerous side," she says softly. "Staying out of it - probably a great plan."

Bashar said to Liyandra, "Oh, well, that's good. I mean, the not having to fight bit. I imagine the storm... ahhh!" Ephiphay struck and the context of his dream made sense. "That was the giant pendulum! I get it now. Yes, but, anyway, I hope that nobody was injured, or that any such injuries that occurred were serious." Then Bashar's face contorted and he turned to Maggie in consternation, a hand pointed toward Liyandra. "Hey! How come she gets to call you Maggie and not have to use your super secret pirate name?"

Mordecai deals with Shao. It does not involve a needle, or a bucket. There may be a kumquat involved.

Quinlan gives Bashar a kind smile. "Won't need that - just a few minutes of not being attacked by angry sea life." He finds a clear spot on the deck, stands feet apart, and raises his arms. Murmuring spells, warm air whirls briefly around him. His clothes dry very quickly, salt crystallizing and dropping to the deck, leaving the mage clean and dry, auburn hair all clean and fluffy again. He takes a brush out of his bookbag and starts attacking it. "MUCH better. I hate being wet while on land."