Where a Duck Gains Grace [OPEN]

[owe_ya_one_pal]

Characters:  Gumshoe + Anyone
Content:  The one place where all his clumbsiness and thickheadness falls away and a glimpse of the man under the coat
Setting: The Wheel deck of the Victoria II
Time: Just before shove off from Bellicus
Warnings: May cause dizziness and/or fatigue

Dick Gumshoe breathed deep as he once more came topside, his grin ever

Comments

[dahliahasthorns]

And then there was "Melissa." Dahlia made her way onto the deck in order to calm her mind from what happened a while ago. She managed to clean the blood off her dress, mend the tear, and get those stains off her parasol, but her mood was still anything but happy (not that she ever really was). Fresh air would do her good, and she didn't get air-sick like some failures she knew.

She wasn't alone, it seemed. She stared at the man from where she stood, examining. He must have been new. That, or she wasn't as perceptive as she thought she was (understandable, as she didn't give two shits about the crew here.) It would still be bright to keep up appearances, though, in case someone else started questioning about her.

"Hello!" Dahlia waved, making her way towards him. "Are you are our new navigator? ...What a cute dog!"

[owe_ya_one_pal]

It was a nice, old wheel, and for that Gumshoe was glad. It ment that it was big, heavy, and sturdy....nothing like the tiny little things that were starting to pop up on the newer boats. He hated those things. But this...this was nice. A little stiff, though

[dahliahasthorns]

"O-oh... I'm sorry. My name is Melissa Foster; I'm one of the cooks." She made to put her hand out to shake his, but the sight of Cannon staring at her like that made her withdraw it and take a step back.

Stupid dog... "He does not... bite, does he?"

[owe_ya_one_pal]

Gumshoe blinked down at his gaurded dog, shaking his head as he lightly tapped his flank with his tattered boot toe. Cannon didn't take his eyes off the woman who smelled like blood, but he did lay down and stop snarling.

Shaking his head, Dick rubbed the back of his neck with one large hand, offering an apologetic grin. "No, he doesn't....Your a cook, right? Maybe he smells the food. We havn't exactly had our rations for the day, so he may be a bit on the hungry side."