(Untitled)

[politestpirate]

There were threats of bodily harm, so thus

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[futures_of_ash]

Rachel probably isn't one of them. Doesn't stop her letting her braided hair dangled from the rafters, followed by an arm that pokes the top of his head gently. "You alright?"

[politestpirate]

Maybe not who he had been expecting, but that does not mean that Rachel would not be welcomed.

The rafters are a bit of a surprise, though, and Wellard blinks at her.

"Miss Rachel- are you alright up there?"

[futures_of_ash]

She just blinks down at him for a moment before chuckling warmly "Of course" she assured. "It's a little hard for me to fall"

She looks...tired. More worn than their last meeting, but at least she's still smiling. "You just seemed a little preoccupied, thought I'd ask.."

[politestpirate]

"The same could be asked of you, Miss Rachel." Eyeing her carefully, one of the chairs at the table is pushed out in invitation.

"I was just watching for someone- I hadn't seen her since..." His lips purse in a worried frown. "For a while."

[brothercadfael]

He'd torn himself away from the windows, and now he's quite content to wander about the bar, being nosy. Curiosity was always one of his faults -- or at least, he was supposed to think of it as a fault, but it never quite worked out that way.

Regardless, Cadfael draws to a half as he passes the young man working busily at some kind of drawing or diagram...particularly because the diagram looks vaguely nautical in nature.

[politestpirate]

Rather like a ship with too many sails, no rudder, and a hull that would not work well for water, but water is not what it is planned for. Tapping the pencil against the sketch for a moment, Wellard studies a conversion chart on another piece of paper- then blinks, and glances up to Cadfael.

"-Oh. Good evening?"

[brothercadfael]

Cadfael at least has the good grace to look a little embarrassed at being caught staring, but his smile hasn't diminished all that much.

'Good evening, young master,' he replies. 'Do forgive me for disturbing you...it was merely that your drawing caught my interest. Is it -- would I be right in thinking that it was some kind of sailing vessel?'

[politestpirate]

"Somewhat of a sailing vessel, yes." Wellard smiles faintly, standing.

"Though I am hardly a master of anything. Wellard, Henry Wellard, formerly of His Majesty's ship the Renown, sir." A moment for him to recall, and he adds, a bit wryly- "Um, 1802, last in the West Indies. The last has gotten to be rather proper, given this place."

[azarathsraven]

Raven had come down from her room, after spending some time resting and getting herself back to feeling somewhat human again. A hot bath had scrubbed most of the evidence of her messy death off her body- mostly the blood and thanks to Arithon, Bar had left her some clothing and shoes.

Now she was ready to eat and get some thinking done. As she passed by Wellards table she remembered that she would need paper. Sighing she glanced back to Bar and then to the man.

"Excuse me?" The girl of about 16 asked with a raspy voice, "May I borrow a piece of paper? I don't want to go back and ask Bar."

[politestpirate]

Wellard looks up, and nods even as he stands. "Of course, miss. Um- would you need something to write with as well?" There are pencils scattered on the table- he has rather become enamored of using those rather than ink or charcoal. He holds one out to her, even as he searches for the supply of blank paper.

[azarathsraven]

Raven nodded a bit, she would have forgotten something to write with too. It wasn't her day. Then again it hasn't been her day for almost a week now.

"Please sir, I'm sorry, I'm not quite with it today." She gave an apologetic smile. "My name's Raven."

[politestpirate]

He finds the paper, and pulls off a few sheets to hand over as well.

"Its quite alright, and very nice to meet you, Miss Raven-" Wellard blinks at that, looking at her curiously. "My name is Wellard, Henry Wellard, late of His Magesty's Ship the Renown. ... 1802."

[simple_tool]

There's a familiar face passing his table. After all she'd just ast and eaten with a nearby diner.

Of course she's still preceded by that codl feeling along the backof the neck...

[politestpirate]

Cold or no- She had been one of the people Wellard had been watching for, even after Rachel had told him where Tool had been. There may be a mostly-repressed twitch at the goosebump reaction, but he stands.

"- Miss Lizzie?"

[simple_tool]

She shifted her empty gaze to his for a moment before sweeping into a deep curtsey, somehow making it elegant despite the bright colored Osh Kosk overalls. "Lord Wellard" she greeted camlmy, remembering, of course, his forbiddance against the term Master.

[politestpirate]

Wellard stands, jaw clenched, but gives her a nod. "Miss Lizzie, good day. ... How have you been?"