Featuring: Bhuvan, Minowa, Nix, Sebastian, Xenia, and Zea (Demetrius and sailors NPCed by Sebastian)
Date: September 10, 2004
IC Date: June 30, 3930
Summary: What is percieved to be nothing more than a log floating lazily along turns out to be something far more shocking and giving the crew of the Amarada cause for grave concern.
Amarada - Coastal Waters - Ocean
The Amarada is kept tidy and clean, her rails and deck well tended and oiled, her sails trim and whole. There seem to be a plethora of additional lines trailing down from her masts, ostensibly to facilitate movement about the ship during storms and rough seas. She sports three masts, two main and one half to provide her with greater speed when the winds will allow for it. high above upon the center forward mast there is a crow's nest. She flies the flag of an independent ship, each such vessel having their own crest or symbol. The flag of the Amarada is a red heart framed by white wings on either side. To show her affiliation with the Buccaneers, she flies upon a field of black. There is a winch and a pair of doors built into the deck to facilitate the loading and unloading of cargo. Both the bow and the aft of the ship are raised to provide greater space below deck, a door upon the aft end leading down the hatch to the rooms below.
The sun has just passed its apex in the heavens and Apollo's chariot is slowly descending towards the western horizon, though dusk will not come for many hours yet. The seas are relatively calm; a few random white-capped waves break the shimmering beauty of the sunlight across the waters. Near the bow of the ship where she can often me found, the Acesian domina sits quietly with a small board across her lap on which sits parchment and a bottle of well-secured ink. Her gaze drifts from the enchanting sight of the endless sea back to the writing, though the latter task is slow going and any who have watched her for more than a couple moments would note that the words are placed slowly and she seems to be doing more thinking than writing. The business of the ship proves another distraction as she, from time to time, looks up at the call of one sailor to another, her quill positioned over the parchment. Quickly a thought comes to her and she dips her head over the parchment and scribbles a few words down.
With the seas being open, the weather being fine, there is not so much for the crew to do and as such the move about the deck with leisure and ease, tending to lines and doing various chores that need to be done, but all with conversation, stories, and long breaks. A few men have managed to conjure up enough free time to indulge in a silly game of leaping into the ocean off the bow of the ship, only to catch a line dragging off the stern and haul themselves through the water and back on. With the sun beating down hot and hard, clearly they find the cool water upon their flesh enjoyable. As such the decks are covered with men who are rather -uncovered-. That is to say that most of the crew move about their duties shirtless today, with either a light sheen of sweat upon their flesh or the kiss of the ocean glistening upon their skin. Watching the crew with a calm eye is Sebastian, in charge for the moment as Mister Burke and the Captain are below in the Chart room, verifying course and direction and determining just how far off they are from the shores of Stygios.
Zea thoughtfully sucks on the end of her quill momentarily as another thought evades her, but it gives her another chance to look around, though as a couple of sailors go rushing by her to jump off of the ship she cringes backwards, keeping out of their way. A light breeze rustles her feathers from time to time and the lack of care she shows towards her parchment and ink that could be stained by water hints that there might be a magical form of protection around her letter. She jots down a few more words once a few more sailors have rushed by but she pauses mid-word and hastily scratches it out before. She mutters to herself and amends whatever she's writing before glancing up again to study the deck and more than once her gaze passes over the captain's son. Should she catch his eye, she raises a hand in a wave and produces a smile as warm as the sun beating down on the Amarada.
Stepping down from the wheel, Sebastian ambles along the length of the deck, his head nodding to the sailors he passes who salute him briefly or bob their heads in greeting, his blue-gray eyes scanning over the ship and her sailors with quiet contemplation and pleasant smile. Stopping once he reaches Zea, he peers down at her paper and then into her face, querying, "So, what are you up to today??"
You would think, on a hot day, in the middle of the ocean, a half-Atlantean would be fond among the men diving in and out of the salt water with gusto. And yet, not so. Minowa is instead perched on the railing of the ship, one foot resting on the wood, the other dangling down. Toes of the resting foot curl lightly around the railing, and the halfbreed sits with eyes closed, body still, seemingly asleep, though in a rather awkward position to be so. In her lap rests a small flute made from a hollowed reed, though for the time being, it goes unused.
Zea shields her eyes as she looks up at Tian and she sets the quill down, not that she's used it for much. When he looks on the parchment he would only see a couple lines of writing, if one does not count the few places where she's scratched out the original message. "I told Justinius I would tell him about my trip," she says, almost dismally as she looks from Sebastian to the poorly-written letter in her lap. "Unfortunately, there is not much to tell him that wouldn't have him and father barreling down to Parnassus in our fastest chariot to fetch me home. I've had to choose my words very carefully," she adds and she half-frowns at the half-dozen words. Likely it is something dry and without color, something her stiff-winged younger brother would approve of. "It has been a lovely day today, are most days so carefree?"
Chuckling softly, Sebastian peers down at the letter and rumbles, "I can -imagine-. Dear Father and Nuisance. Today I boarded a boat, dressed like a tavern wench. The whole crew leered. Last night I sat on the deck, surrounded by raucous drunken sailors, drank ale, and listened to bawdy songs about sex and the ills of marriage. Today I'm watching as scantily clad men with lots of muscles parade about me in an unseemly fashion ..." His tone is light and teasing. Too bad about the fact that it's all true. "You don't even have landscape to talk about. It's all, 'sky and water are still blue today. More tomorrow.'" Crouching down next to Zea, Sebastian smiles up into her face and hmmms at her question. "No, not always, but there are definitely stretches where the crew can be relaxed and calm. The seas are clear of other ships, of dangerous shoals or shorelines, and pretty much with the wheel and the rudder on a straight and true course, the men can ease up a little. Still things to be done, but not a great deal."
Slowly, the halfbreed's opens her eyes, blinking languidly at the sun reflected off the water. Then, with calm and careful intent, she scoops her flute up into her hand, lifts her dangling leg and slowly, carefully, begins to stand. It takes a moment...more than a moment...to attain enough balance to straighten her back and perch on the slender railing. Then, one foot swings down and in front of the other, and she begins to walk. Little flute is lifted and placed against green lips. As Minowa walks, a whimsical little tune begins to play.
A few sailors, trimming fish caught earlier that day and peeling potatoes and cutting carrots for dinner, lift their eyes to Minowa, their feet tapping the deck lightly along with the beat of her song, heads bobbing in time as well.
Zea looks past Sebastian as a couple of those scantily-clad men run by them, shouting boasts and challenges to each other. Her lips pull into a smirk as she looks back to Sebastian. "Put some wings on some of them and they'd look like some of the statues my parents have in Civitas Dei. Nude statues." The breeze around her increases slightly and ruffles through his hair, though her magical breeze does little to improve his already rambunctious look. The smirk settles into a warm smile again. "Their appearance would be the least of my family's worries, but the rest..." She casts a quick glance to the letter and then back to Sebastian. "I certainly could not tell Justinius about any of that, not without risking my wings are well as yours. He's a little overprotective." Yes, and the sea is a little wet. The light tune carries over them, mingling with the sounds of the sea and the joyful cries of the crew and for a moment Zea ignores her letter and glances over towards where the halfbreed sits. Her expression doesn't change, but she does retain a hint of a smile. Zea moistens her lips, as if to speak, but she lets the melody carry over them a while longer before she says anything. "She ... she's going to teach me a song," Zea says to Sebastian as she nods in Minowa's direction.
After years at sea, learning to ignore her shipmates, Nix pays little attention to the nobles mulling below. The Empyrean's perched on the edge of the crow's nest, honey-red wings hanging over the edge. Her hair is loose, fluttering in the slight breeze, and she sweeps a tawny glance over the open water -- keeping her watch.
Sebastian's gaze flickers over to where Minowa sits and then back to Zea, and it takes all of his muster not to crow with relief. Zea's small smile, those simple words, speak volumes to the Empyrean sailor, suggesting that yes indeed and in fact it seems like this journey might help shift the ground beneath them even further, showing Zea things and introducing her to radical new ideas about the people and the world around her. But he can't add any pressure and as such while is smile is quick and pleased, he doesn't make a big fuss over the matter. "Oh? Well that's most excellent. Something just to learn, or something you're thinking you might sing some evening?" The wind plays with his hair, carrying over a swath over his brow that Sebastian simple leaves be, the blonde locks fluttering over his eyes.
Minowa continues her precarious walk along the perimeter of the ship, her pace increasing ever so slightly with the tempo of the song. Lips lift in a playful smile, eyes meeting any who glance her way as she moves. Webbed toes hug the railing, and her shoulders lift and tilt to maintain balance. In the way of things that are vaguely circular, her path will eventually take her past the two winged people sitting on the bow.
"Something perhaps to sing one evening that won't have the same effect my last song had," Zea says quietly, a little somber even as she looks again at the letter, the few words taunting her, reminding her of other duties that extent far past this ship. She scowls at it, as if suddenly her brother's scolding visage appeared on the parchment and she is quick to crumple the letter with one hand. She can write another later. "If the men will have me again in their circle," she adds, a bit cautious, uncertain still just what they might think of her. She told him once that her greatest fear is anonymity and it is a fear that is surfacing on this voyage, but one that can still be broken. "We had a long talk, she and I," Zea continues as the halfbreed approaches them. "It was ..." She looks up to catch Minowa's gaze and then looks back to Sebastian. "Something we can discuss later."
Finally, something to look at. With narrowed eyes, Nix drops to her feet, crossing the short distance across the crow's nest to squint out at the water. Muttered words, a glance to the deck below. "I'm..." then, slightly louder, "Leaving post, sir!" And, with that, the girl's scrambling onto the nest's railing, launching herself onto the breeze. Her wings spread after a moment's freefall, and she starts over the water, approaching a sketchy... something floating just out of clear sight.
Shaking his head, Sebastian counters mildly, "You didn't ruin the evening, Zea, and they don't consider you an anathema. You sang a song. It was sad and touching. The mood changed. There's nothing wrong with that, and you might recall that you got applause come the end of it." Reaching up, he places a hand on her knee and notes, "They're good men, every one of them. Don't spend time worrying about whether they like you or not or what they think of you. Everyone has history and biases ... but people are people ..." his voice breaks off as he lifts his gaze up to the crows nest, eyes squinting against the sunlight as he focuses his gaze on Nix. His hand squeezes Zea's knee lightly and he rises up, turning his head in the direction that the girl has taken off, though narrowing his eyes he can't see anything. "Glass!" he calls out, and one of the sailors comes running with a metal object in his hand, holding it out to Sebastian with a brisk, "Sir!" Tian takes the object and opens it, the metal tube expanding in length. Lifting it to his eye, he looks out over the ocean through it.
Minowa lifts her head as a copper-winged girl launches herself out of the crow's nest, and her balance falters slightly, then corrects itself. She brings her tune to a pleasant, if premature, close and swings down into a sit as her feet nearly brush against the domina's wings. "I wonder where that one's off to," she murmurs, to everyone and no one in particular. "Didn't she have a kitten last time? And wasn't she rather wet? Oh, and good morning, Domina. I haven't forgotten about your request. I'm sill trying to think of just the right tune to show you." And then she quiets again, as Sebastian calls for a spyglass. It seems, really, that the whole crew stills for a moment.
Zea gives Minowa a nod in greeting, but any further conversation is halted by the commotion caused by the golden-winged Empyrean taking off from the crow's nest. She carefully sets her lap desk aside, making sure the stopper is put into the ink before she gets to her feet at Sebastian's side and looks out over the water, though having no clue what anyone is looking at. She squints and raises her hand to shield her eyes to scan the waters, but still doesn't seem to see anything. "What is it," she asks, her shielded gaze turning to Sebastian.
From beyond the ship, the air currents are steady and easy, making the flight over the water toward the odd object quick and smooth. At first, as Nix draws closer, the object appears more and more like what she suspected .... a log. But as she comes even closer to be sure, she notices that there is something wrong about it. Too straight. Too smooth. And there's something else there. Something that is most definitely not a log.
Studying the far off object, Sebastian's lips purse as he peers through his rudimentary telescope, murmuring, "It's hard to tell. Definitely not a ship, not even a small dhow or sailing vessel. It ... it just looks like a log from here." Drawing the glass away from his eye, he snaps it closed, looking relieved. "Probably nothing. She'll be back in a few minutes to say it was nothing I imagine."
From beyond the ship, Log, indeed. Nix stays well above the water -- well experienced with wet wings, this one -- but approaches at a quick pace, squinting past the glare to make out the floating form.
The crew of the Amarada does stop, most of the sailors not currently busy moving toward the same side of the ship and leaning against the rail curiously, peering out over the water. But at the commander's words, most of them nod and move back to their business. Only the few that have nothing better to do at the moment linger at the rail, leaning against it casually, watching Nix's progress over the water toward the mystery object.
Minowa taps her flute lightly against the palm of one hand as she lingers, watching. She can't quite help it and, after all, until a scout returns, one never really knows. "Our first bit of excitement," she muses, "even if it is only a log."
Zea watches the golden-winged Empyrean, able to see her much better than the log or whatever else is floating out here in the middle of the ocean. "A log, out this far," Zea queries, still squinting, as if that might help her see further. There is a touch of disappointment in her voice, for this seemed like the beginning of an honest and true adventure, cut short by the idea of floating lumber.
From beyond the ship, As she draws closer, Nix realizes what is strange about the log. It's a mast of a ship! Or at least, what's left of one. And tied to it is a man, a Varati. His body is lax against the restraints that hold him to the mast, his clothes torn, water-logged, and cut. There are a number of painful looking cuts and contusions over what is visible on his flesh, and for a Varati ... he is terribly pale. There is no motion, save that which the gentle bobbing of the sea gifts to him.
From beyond the ship, Nix's flight falters. Startled into hesitation, the girl's sinks a good foot before flapping her way back up. Very undignified. A series of curses, and a glance back to the ship. "It's a man!" She hovers about the fallen mast, squinting down at the .. sticky situation. To drown with the Varati, or do watch him do it alone? Rather like a fickle bird, the girl darts closer to the water... only to sweep back up as the breeze begins to pulls at her. "Send help!" All but a roar, voicing her frustration. There's nothing she can do.
The spyglass remains in his hand, and although he has already dismissed the matter, his gaze continues to flicker toward where Nix has flown out to investigate. "Trust me, Zea, it's a far better thing to be a log than say a pirate ship." His gaze flickers to Minowa for a moment before drifting back out to sea. Excitement is all well and good ... up to a point. Be careful what you wish for."
The distance between Nix and the ship is too far for the girl's voice to carry over the sound of the sea and the wind.
Minowa's smile vanishes from her lips as the girl dips a foot, and then shoots up again, then dips down..."something's wrong." She leans forward, hands wrapping tightly about the railing to keep her from tipping over into the water. "Check your spyglass again, Sebastian. Watch the girl. What's her face like?"
Zea cannot hold back a rather unladylike sound that sounds almost like a snort. "Oh yes, that would be lovely, something else to include in my letter."Dear Papa, the weather has been ever so lovely and I'm even beginning to enjoy the smell of the sea air. And guess what, we crossed paths with a pirate ship!" Her lips twist into a sardonic smile. "Oh yes, that would be a pleasant letter to send. I can just..." Her self-amusement is cut off by the halfbreed's concern and Zea turns her attention back out to sea and noticed that Nix is not yet returning. Maybe things will become more interesting after all.
Frowning, Sebastian turns and lifts the glass again, but the girl is too far away for the glass to pick up her features, a soft frustrated sigh making this clear. "I can't see what the problem is ... no reason to assume there's anything wrong ... could be that a wind current caught her by surprise." His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug as he notes nonchalantly, "It happens." But despite this, the glass drops away from his face and he calls to the sailor at the wheel, "Three degrees starboard, if you will Mister Callest!"
From beyond the ship, Nix is glaring. Because, glaring at a problem always helps. She doesn't try to stir the man -- a struggling Varati sinks faster than an unconscious Varati. Her jaw sets, and she sends a withering glance toward the unresponsive ship. Another dart downward, fingers grazing the restraints, testing the rope. Another bout of cursing, for the log's ears only.
From beyond the ship, She has to get terribly close to the water to touch the rope that binds about the Varati's chest, holding him securely to the mast. Wings brush the water dangerously.
Minowa presses her lips together into a thin line. A wind current? "Aye," she agrees, if a little reluctantly. "It could be just a tricky wind, I suppose. Still, she's spending a very long time out there, if it's only a log she's inspecting." Then again, this is the same girl who launched herself and her kitten into the water once before. Minowa sits in silence as the ship turns.
Zea doesn't look quite as sure about the wind currents. A frown begins to appear on her lips and even though she isn't squinting anymore, her brow is still furrowed. "There doesn't seem to me any unusual shift in the winds," Zea says slowly, concentrating on the Empyrean out over the water and more importantly, the winds around her. "Well, at least this is something I can include, 'Golden-winged Empyrean girl was out studying a log in the water, we still don't know why.'" She shakes her head and stands up from leaning on the railing, though her fingers still hold to it.
Nodding tersely, Sebastian addresses Minowa, even though his gaze remains out upon the water where the girl continues to hover. "Agreed," he counters mildly, "which is why I've ordered a change of course to intercept ..." He strides a few feet away across the deck, climbing up to the raised section of the bow to lift his glass again, focusing on the Empyrean girl as the ship slowly turns and changes direction, heading that way. The wind picks up sharply, filling the sails to full billowing as Sebastian calls out, "Look lively gentlemen, open all sails to full!"
From beyond the ship, Minowa has a point. Nix could, after all, be making friends with a log. It's happened before. Another series of plunges, and then she pulls away entirely, starting back to the ship. She could enter the water, but she's more likely to drown than the Varati, by the time they noticed her absence. And so she starts toward the far-off deck at a harried beat, shouting the whole way, at varying distances, "Boat! Send the damned boat!"
Minowa rocks to and fro a little impatiently as the ship begins moving, more quickly now that the sails have suddenly filled. Sebastian didn't even look away from the task at hand. Quite a skill that boy has...and now the empyrean girl is flying back, arms waving. For the moment, that's all Minowa can decipher. She grumbles faintly. "I could swim out," she offers. "Double check. If it is only a log, I wouldn't mind the swim anyhow." Impatient.
The crew is suddenly electrified, all joking and leisure set aside as they spring into action, moving fast and efficiently. Sails are dropped and buckle and flap until the wind fills them to brimming over, the Amarada surging forward powerfully, the sea splitting apart before her cutting prow, water spraying almost festively along her sides, leaving a pale wake in her berth. They close in on sailor and unidentified object until Sebastian, glass raised to his eye, suddenly snaps it down and snaps it shut, barking out harshly, "Man overboard! I repeat, man overboard! Sailors to their stations to effect a rescue!"
Log or not, the growing excitement has the domina on her toes and leaning slightly forward again, the anticipation is just killing her. When Sebastian's shout cuts through the air Zea gasps loudly and leans forward some more, even though she still cannot quite make out much more than the hovering Empyrean and a lump against the shining surface of the sea. "Not from the Amarada, surely," she asks to anyone who is nearby as she strains to make out the figure Tian has seen through his glass.
From beyond the ship, The empyrean female continues on her path to the boat, cursing all the way. She can do nothing over the water. The Varati will be saved by a fish, or he won't be saved at all. Maybe a boat.
The men of the Amarada ready a small landing boat, boarding it and waiting till the Amarada is close enough to lower her down safely. It seems to take forever, but finally the ship is close enough that the man can be seen, strapped to the remains of a mast. Crossing down to the row boat, Sebastian glances over at the men involved and then turns to Minowa. "He might be dead already, but if he's not, do you think you can keep him alive long enough for us to get him back on board where you can treat him properly?" The wind drops from the sails dramatically, the Amarada coasting now through the water, slowing with the drag of the sea. But it's just enough to bring her gently ever closer and closer to the man without accidentally colliding with him or passing him by.
Minowa swings off the railing, landing on the ship. She looks to Sebastian, brows lifted high. "I can't promise," she says. "But I'll do whatever I'm able." She moves from foot to foot as she speaks, as if she cannot quite keep still. Unbeknownst to her, her irritation is leaving small footprints imbedded in the wood whenever she steps down, the planks silently shaping to the contours of her anxious feet. She slows, looking down and scowling at the footprints. Immediately, they vanish and the floor is as it was. "It's probably safest if I swim. I'm as fast as the rowboat anyhow."
Amid the excitement a bit of uncertainty creeps beneath the noblewoman's skin. Again she's in a situation to which she is a stranger, an uneducated observer. Her lips pull in against each other as her fingers tighten on the rail of the ship, getting a better view now of the man set to be rescued, if he's even still alive. She glances around the ship and notices everyone springing to action, but for herself she knows nothing else to do but stand and watch.
As the Empyrean look-out lands upon the deck of the Amarada, Sebastian's spares her a quick glance before returning his attention to Minowa. "Water is fine ... you can reach him faster and see if he's alive or not. If he is, we'll get him on board the landing boat and pull him up." And then, for a moment, Sebastian can do nothing either but stand and wait for his crew to do their duty. The men lower the boat quickly down to the water and oars strike the surface as they stroke there way over to where the Varati bobs peacefully in the water, looking for all the world as a dead man.
Minowa nods curtly, and without a second thought, in broad daylight and in front of a passel of men, the halfbreed peels off her shirt and pants, leaps from the ship and dives, nude, into the ocean. When she surfaces, she is already several meters out, before vanishing under the water again. She moves like a seal, like a dolphin, peaking up then plunging down to reappear further out than before. She reaches the man even before the rowboat does. One arm wraps around the mast (or as much around as it can reach), and the other hand is laid across the bound Varati's forehead.
Varati. Zea's features visibly falter as recognition sets in. She's been trying, honest she has, but seeing an unconscious Varati being pulled toward the ship does little to make her comfortable. Her wings pull in towards her body and she leans back slightly from the railing, as if the excitement of the afternoon has suddenly ceased. Two steps forward, and one step back, it seems.
From beyond the ship, The Varati man does not move when she touches him, other than to bob slightly under the water's command.
Despite the sudden display, the men aboard the Amarada do not make one sniggling comment or offer a single leer toward the half-Atlantean. A man found at sea is a serious business for them, especially as it is a debt they have sworn to repay whenever they can. Those that have nothing else to do watch and wait, others fetch medicinals that might be needed. Gauze, fresh water, boiling water, salves. Another fetches a blanket and a bed pad, laying it out on the deck so that they might put the Varati upon it once he's brought on board. Sebastian's gaze is far too occupied with Minowa, the row boat, and the actions of his crew to notice Zea's reaction. Another, however has, and gentle hands drop to her shoulders lightly from behind as a familiar warm voice inquires, "Is there a problem Domina? Perhaps this is too distressing for you to witness?" Captain Demetrius. It was only a question of time before he realized the change in course and speed and came to investigate.
Zea starts at the unexpected touch, especially since she can see Sebastian as unfamiliar hands rest against her. "Dominus," she breathes with a sigh of relief as she turns and recognizes the Captain. "No, no Dominus, no problem at all, this is just all ... It is quite unexpected, I've never ..." There is warmth in her voice now, an echo of his as a slow smile creeps across her lips. "This is all new to be Dominus, it is a bit overwhelming, but I'd like to stay if I may?"
From beyond the ship, The halfbreed in the water jerks slightly as she touches the unconscious man. That instant where injuries are revealed and pain is shared...it is never a pleasant one. But, it is informative. Well, first thing's first. Her eyes close even as her legs kick slowly, her one arm sinking softly into the wood to better facilitate a strong grip. Her magic reaches down, past the throat, above the heart. There. Water in the lungs. That's the most dangerous bit and with a faint flinch she pushes, clearing those struggling organs and forcing water up and out the mouth.
From beyond the ship, Water bubbles up out of the Varati's mouth, trickling past his lips and down over his wan face. But it's a disturbing sight for those who can see it, for it is magic that manipulates his body into pressing the water out, not the natural properties of him coughing it out himself. His body remains limp and unresponsive, save that she forces his body to do.
"Aye, I'm sure it must all be quite different for you. I just didn't want you to be disturbed by the sight. He may be dead or he may be very badly injured. Either way, a body out at sea without shelter can be rather perturbing to new eyes." The Captain chuckles softly then as he recollects, "But then again, Sebastian tells me that you work with the men in the Eyrie, so perhaps injuries and like will not be so unfamiliar or upsetting to you, Domina." He steps around to flank Zea, his arms folding over his chest as he allows his son to continue command of the situation. "If you do feel, however, at all distressed, there is no harm or shame in returning to your room Domina. None whatsoever." His gaze sidles to her with a gentle smile as he adds, "Should you change your mind."
The row boat glides up to the half-breed and the Varati, one man steadying it against the mast as another turns to Minowa and inquires, "Is he still alive?" Another mongrel slips over and into the water, swimming next to Minowa with a knife in his mouth. After catching himself on the opposite side he carefully starts to cut the ropes binding the Varati to the mast."
Zea looks up at Demetrius, her expression one of deep respect for the older Empyrean, and a bit of unexpected awe as well at the mention of the Eyrie, for she has no idea just what Sebastian has told his father about her. "He did?" The question comes as light as a breath, but quickly she shakes it away, the situation at the moment is of greater importance, even if it is a Varati. "I promise, Dominus, should it become too overpowering I will retreat below the decks, but for now I want to remain here on deck. I doubt this man's injuries would be similar to anything I've witnessed at the Eyrie, certainly none of them have been exposed to the elements for days at a time."
From beyond the ship, Minowa looks up, blinking slowly as she returns to her own self. What was asked...alive? "Yes," she replies. "Barely. He needs water in his belly, and food when," or if, "he wakes. The sun and sea are sucking the life from him." She moves alongside the mongrel with the knife, ready to help him get the Varati aboard. "If you can help me up onto the rowboat after him, I can tend to open wounds as we go back to the Amarada." She pauses. "If we can manage, bring the mast as well."
Even as the boat is reaching the side of the Varati floating in the water, another Empyrean emerges from the belly of the ship to join the other figures already on deck. Xenia lifts her face briefly to the caress of the afternoon sunshine, lids fluttering shut and lips curving faintly. It is but a heartbeat later that she lowers her chin, however, her ears near perking as she hears a familiar voice utter something about a man being injured. Blinking to let her eyes adjust to the bright light, the domina moves forward on legs that have finally become accustomed to the pitch and roll of the ship. Drawing closer to Zea and Demetrius, she turns a curious glance towards them both, arching a brow. "Vilica, Captain." She greets, then asks, "Is aught amiss?"
The men in the boat find Minowa's final request puzzling at best, but they do as she requests. Once the Varati is cut free he is carefully pulled on board first. Then Minowa is assisted on and the sailor. Finally the mast is caught with a length of rope, trailing behind the rowboat as it makes its way back toward the Amarada.
From beyond the ship, Bhuvan's body is dead weight, water logged and unconscious as he is. The shift from sea to ship does nothing to revive him, his head lolling from one side to the other as he is moved.
From beyond the ship, Minowa crouches over the Varati, fingertips dancing about his skin. She is as careless with his clothing as she was with her own, hurriedly pushing or cutting away anything the blocks an injury from her view. Water rolls off her skin, trickles from her hair, drips in a slow beat off the tip of her nose and onto the nearly-drowned, nearly-parched Varati. Hands finally alight on the man's chest and her eyes close again. This time it's the open wounds she treats, carefully mending each gash from the inside out.
Captain Demetrius turns, his head dipping as he greets, "Ave, Domina. It would see that we have come across a body in the water. Considering how close we are to Stygios, it's possible that he survived a shipwreck or something." Demetrius wisely doesn't not offer up the other possibilities that might account for the Varati's place and position, for none of them are as pleasant as a ship run aground. "I should warn you, however, Domina, that the sight might be a trifle shocking or upsetting, unless you're accustomed to nearly drowned men?"
Zea turns, a bit grateful for the distraction from the grisly sight before them. There is relief to see the other Empyrean woman and Zea gives Xenia a smile, or at least the best she can do, considering the situation. Is she a bite paler than usual? "That small Empyrean," she says gesturing towards Nix, "saw something in the water," she explains to Xenia, providing a few details that the captain was not present to witness. "We shifted our course when she did not come right back," Zea adds, further filling in the other woman on the events of the day. A trickle of concern fills her features as she asks Xenia, "Your stomach, how is it feeling? Is the halfbreed's healing still holding?"
As the boat draws closer, Sebastian orders the men to prepare to draw it up. Lines are dropped down and latched on and then the cranks are turned, the heavily ladened boat slowly rising up through the air, water streaming from its hull. Once even with the deck, Sebastian steps forward. "Alright now, let's move him gently to the mattress." Several sailors move forward, carefully picking up the Varati, equally careful not to jostle or disturb Minowa's grasp on him. The rest watch in curious wonder as a gaping wound across his belly slowly fits back together, flesh reaching toward itself like lovers anxious to reunite, skin forming over like new, leaving literally no mark in its wake. Once the Varati is settled, Sebastian murmurs, "Alright, step back and give her room to work. Minowa ... clearly he's alive, but is he going to stay that way?" Despite her ministrations, the Varati still looks like he's standing on Death's doorstep, wondering if he's supposed to knock or not.
"Nearly drowned?" Xenia replies to Demetrius' words with no small measure of concern, her normally huskier contralto rising in pitch on the last word. Her gaze flickers out towards the boat, then towards Zea, azure eyes widening even further at the Vilica's words. Xenia's wings flare once then curl tightly against her spine. "It...has been feeling better. But..." Xenia's words trail off as the boat draws closer and carefully divulges its cargo onto the decking. One slender hand splays over her abdomen and her face takes on a decidedly pale cast as she catches sight of the Varati. "Oh...Gods." She squeaks, whirling around and moving as quickly as she can towards the railing, wings flaring wide to keep her balance as her head drops over the railing. Hopefully no one will notice in the bustle to save the nearly drowned man.
The halfbreed does not move, and for a moment, it is unclear if she has even heard the question. Then, without shifting anything more than her lips, she says, "Down below, near my cot, there's a wooden box with three seashells on the top. Someone please go down and bring it to me. We need something cool oh his skin to help bring the fever down, and a mug of water and a spoon." One eye opens and looks around to meet Sebastian's gaze. "The lad's gone and spoiled a perfectly good, leisurely morning. He's not allowed to die." Clearly, he's not going without a fight, at the very least.
Her request is responded to, one of the sailors rising up and departing to fetch said box. There is already water available and some cloths. But no spoon. One of the sailors nods and soaks a cloth in the water, lifting it over the Varati's mouth to carefully squeeze a few drops onto his parched lips. Sebastian flashes Minowa a grateful smile and then turns to the rest of the crew. "You and you ... stay here to assist. The rest of you? Back to your stations please. Mister Callest, please return us to our original course?" Pivoting, Sebastian watches as the crew obey his commands, moving along with out complaint, though the deck is abuzz with conversation and curious looks back at the Varati. There are many questions about just -who- the man is and why he was in the water in the first place. Two of the men pause to bring the broken hunk of the mast on board, placing it upon the deck before turning to Sebastian. "We brought this along, Sir, on the request of the healer." They look puzzled but simply salute and move about their business as Sebastian nods, his ocean eyes turning to the wreckage speculatively. "Very good ... as you were, gentlemen."
With her attention focused more on Xenia than on the nearly dead Varati, Zea is, unfortunately, witness to the other woman's sudden bout of illness and the concern on her features deepens. Far more so than any she has shown for the Varati lying on the Amarada's deck, but perhaps an Empyrean emptying her stomach over the rail of a ship is more appealing than the Varati fighting for life. Some things take longer to change, it seems. "Domina!" Zea is quick to jump over toward Xenia's side after a murmured apology to the Captain as she sweeps past him, wings already flaring in a mirror of Xenia's to provide additional cover for the domina with the delicate stomach. "Are you all right? I would call for the Healer but ..." She tries not to smile too much, really she does. "But she is a bit occupied at the moment."
The Captain eyes Xenia's flight with an empathetic smile, but he knows that her illness is not life-threatening, and as Zea departs to assist, he sighs softly and turns his attention back to the Varati, crossing over to Sebastian and speaking quietly with him. The two, father and son, step over to the section of mast, crouching down next to it and studying it soberly, murmuring to one another in voices to soft to be heard.
As her stomach was nearly empty before the episode began, Xenia's body quickly subsides into a series of shudders and dry heaves. She waves a hand weakly at Zea, head still dropped over the railing. Several heartbeats of silence follow in which her opalescent wings sag slightly, primaries trailing over the wooden deck in a silken rasp. At length, Xenia can be heard to inhale a ragged breath and inquire, "There isn't any...blood...is there?" Oh please, Blessed Tritonia, let there be no blood. No entrails. No detached limbs. Just...no. She'll sacrifice a lamb, well...have one sacrificed...she wouldn't want to be there. That would mean...blood. Oh pleeeease, no more blood. The thought brings another heave from Xenia's stomach and a flare of her wings from the decking they rest upon.
Minowa ahs softly as the wooden box appears and is handed to her by one of the crewmen. A murmured thank you, and then green fingers flick open the top and begin shuffling though a collection of small pouches. One is selected and opened, and teaspoon or so of a brownish-green powder is dropped into the mug of water. She stirs with the spoon, counting softly beneath her breath as she watches the powder vanish into the water, deepening the mixture into a translucent, muddy color. She works oblivious to the fact that anything else is going on around her, not noticing the arrival of Xenia, let alone the fact that her poor stomach has upended yet again. Minowa doesn't seem to notice or care that she's still nude. She lowers the mug to the deck, propping the unconscious Varati's head up with one arm, the free hand scooping up a half-spoonful of the brew and placing it against his lips. She tips the spoon tentatively; careful to watch where the concoction goes. Is there any attempt, any ability to swallow at all?
Zea risks a glance over to where the Varati is laying on the deck, though with all the activity it is difficult to see much of anything. "I ... I think you're safe," Zea says as she leans in to Xenia with a comforting hand resting on the other woman's shoulder. "I think he has some injuries, but I don't see any blood." She stands up and lowers her wings a touch while offering her arm to Xenia should she need something to lean on. Not that Zea is a pillar of strength right now either, but she seems to be fairing a touch better than the other noblewoman.
The liquid trickles down into his mouth, some of it coming back up to dribble out of the corner of his lips. But he doesn't swallow. Not at first. And then suddenly the Varati moves. A weak cough burbles out of his throat and his head turns, trying to escape the liquid that is trickling into his throat, some small instinct kicking in at the sensation, fearing death by drowning. Hands shift up, pressing unconsciously against Minowa, struggling against her as he struggled against the sea. But there is enough comprehension to recognize the difference between flesh and water and weakly his arms drop back down, and low groan escaping him as he eyes struggle to open, fighting against the brine that has nearly sealed them shut with a salty crust. "Ahhh-hhhhh ...."
The halfbreed healer heaves a shuddering sigh of relief at this sudden, undeniable proof of life. He moved. He's breathing, making noises. "It's all right," she offers at the weak struggling. "You're safe, now. Relax. If you can hear me, just keep still, and breathe as slow and deep as you can, aye?" She returns the spoon to the mug, and picks up the wet rag from where it lies besides the Varati's head, using it to wipe the dried crust away from struggling eyelids.
Wings still shuddering, Xenia grips the railing with both hands, knuckles gone white, and dares to lift her head enough to look over her shoulder. The sight of the halfbreed tending to the Varati, as well as the Captain and his son over by the mast, greets her eyes momentarily. Then, all too quickly perhaps, she's turned her head away, eyes squeezing shut against a feeling of vertigo. "I appreciate your concern, domina, and I thank you." She says to Zea without ever opening her eyes. Her voice carries the depth of her gratitude, however, as well as the pleading in her next query. "Do you suppose...when they're done tending to the man, I could trouble someone for some water? My throat...has gone quite dry."
Zea barely turns her gaze towards the healing process, though she does note, with a troubled expression, the father and son quietly going over the piece of the mast. Her lips twist further into a frown, even though she has no idea what is going on, but the interest in the mast over the ailing man must mean something. "Domina," Zea begins as the woman gives her a momentary out from this scene. "Here, Domina, sit down before you collapse," she offers as she escorts Xenia towards a nearby barrel, a barrel that thankfully keeps her out of direct view of the goings on with the halfbreed and the Varati. "I will get you the water, just ... just wait right here." The frown works itself into a reassuring smile; if only for Xenia's benefit and once she's sure the other woman isn't going to fall to the deck she takes off towards the hatch and heads below deck.
His body tenses with fear at first, but as her reassuring words and tone slowly penetrate his mind, his frame slumps again in a mix of relief, exhaustion, and helplessness. Once she has cleared the salt from his eyes, they weakly flicker open, pupils dilated with one slightly larger than the other. They're striking, rich brown with a flash of green at the center, though the bloodshot whites rather detract. He meets Minowa's blue-green gaze in confusion, his tongue uselessly passing over his parched lips. He moves his mouth to say something, but nothing escapes him beyond garbled air, his throat raw and dry, unable to sustain sound.
Xenia struggles to her feet only moments after Zea turns to go, calling after her. "Wait, domina, please? I do believe...I need to go lie down. Again." She doesn't dare to look towards the rescued man or the others, but instead makes her way below decks, wings tucked tightly to her spine.
Sebastian's head pivots at Minowa's words, his hand resting for a moment on his father's shoulder before rising up. Demetrius' eyes are guarded and cool, his son's matching as he crosses over to the injured man and crouches across from Minowa. His gaze flickers over the Varati, but he doesn't say anything just yet.
Minowa eyes stare intently into the Varati's, though she doesn't note the striking color so much as the distressing fact that the pupils are different sizes. That's not good at all. But, at least those eyes are open, and seem to be partially focusing. The wet cloth falls back onto the mattress and she once again picks up the spoon, dipping it into the mug. "Words later," she says simply. "Drink as slow as your throat will let you. Too quickly and you'll choke." After this bit of sage advice, the spoonful of modified water is again placed against her patient's lips. The powder makes it subtly bitter.
The bitter flavor causes the Varati to gag, which in turn causes him to cough, though it is a pitiful sight, his body too weak to sustain the violence of a cough, so instead he wheezes, his frame tensing and struggling before collapsing again, weaker for the effort, his mouth open as he tries to get in enough breath without triggering another useless and exhausting coughing fit. He turns his head away from Minowa, eyes closing in silent refusal of whatever it is she's trying to make him take.
Eyeing the man doubtfully, Sebastian murmurs, "So much for learning who he is or what happened." Already he and his father have their suspicions, and concerns, about what brought this man to their decks. But until he is well enough to answer questions, their suspicions will be all that they have. "Is he going to be alright?"
Zea returns to the deck after seeing the other domina to her bed and making sure she's had something to drink. She lingers near the hatch, watching the scene for a while, for there is little else she can do. Her gaze jumps eagerly as she takes it all in, from the green halfbreed, to Sebastian and then his father, and even to the rest of the crew. Many are back at their tasks, but there are some who are like Zea, watching with interest from a distance for there is nothing else they can do in this situation. In one hand she holds a large tankard, but it is not filled with rum or ale or anything else favored by the crew. It is simply clean water and from time to time Zea takes a small sip from it as a little bit of color begins to return to her features.
Minowa tsks softly. "I know," she says as if picking up her end of an engaging conversation. "It's a bit horrid, isn't it? I wish I could make it sweeter, but sugar dilutes the healing properties. Try again. Something that tastes so vile *must* be good for you, aye?" She turns briefly to look towards Demetrius and Sebastian. "His chances are better now than they were a few moments ago. If he can stay awake, he can eat and drink, and if he can eat and drink, he'll most likely be able to mend what I cannot." She turns back to the Varati. "Here, I'm going to give you another spoonful. If you can swallow it down, I can give you some fresh water, next."
The Varati shudders in her grasp, eyes slowly opening as his eyes shift to Minowa's face. Lids keep dropping down low, exhaustion lulling him back towards quiet oblivion. But slowly, deliberately, his blinks once to indicate to the half-breed his willingness to try again. His mouth opens and his eyes shut, bracing for the unpleasantness of the liquid medicine.
Studying the man for a moment longer, Tian nods, murmuring, "Right ... I'll leave him in your capable hands then. Let me know when you think he's ready to be moved and I'll have some men carry him downstairs and set up a bunk for him. Probably best if he rest below decks for awhile, out of the sun and the elements for a change?" Rising up, Sebastian rubs his hands idly against his silwar, mulling just exactly -where- they will place the man. "Anything else he needs? Is it essential he has a quiet place to rest, or will a spot in the main bunker be sufficient?" While he has no reason to specifically distrust the Varati, he has no reason to trust him either, and as such while the Charter room might be the coziest place, it's also the most private and with the most secrets. Having an unknown entity there doesn't sit well with Sebastian, and he suspects that the Captain would agree.
Her letter! Zea is suddenly reminded of her small traveling desk and the crumpled letter that seemed to have consumed her thoughts ages ago instead of hours. Setting the tankard down carefully she heads back towards the bow of the ship where her things are still sitting, untouched. She picks up the crumpled letter first, re-reads it and then crumples it again. The bottle is checked that it is secured before she picks the small lap desk up, as well as her quill. Every so often she sneaks a glance over to Minowa and her patient. She may not like Varati, but she is still curious as to just what is going on.
"Good lad," is the green-skinned woman's encouraging reply. "Hold fast, now. Here it comes." A spoonful of the bitter mixture is carefully poured into the Varati's open mouth. She waits for a successful swallow before a second cloth is dipped into another mug, this one containing clean water. The cloth is pressed against the near-drowned lad's lips and she squeezes lightly, allowing a slow trickle to dribble into his mouth. Minowa watches his throat carefully, trying as best she can to not squeeze in water *as* he swallows, waiting for the moments in-between. It is during this phase that she addresses Sebastian's concerns. "Below deck would be best, you're right, but a room away from the other men would be safest. Who knows what he's been though? He needs somewhere quiet and isolated if he's to have the best chance of recovery." She knows the layout of the ship well enough to understand just what it is she's asking. "I'll keep watch over him. He'll need watching anyhow."
The Varati swallows obediently, taking down the medicine and then, gratefully, the water. But after a few successive swallows, his eyes flutter closed again and eventually the water trickles out of his mouth as he succumbs to exhaustion, falling into a state somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.
Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Sebastian murmurs, "Well, the ship is packed solid this voyage ... I'm afraid the only space is not exactly the most welcoming, but I suppose we could make it more friendly with a few accommodations." His gaze flickers over to the Varati and then Minowa as he notes with mild displeasure, "The only space really is one of the detainment cells, and not knowing what he's been through, I wouldn't want him to wake and think he'd been captured and imprisoned. But I don't see any other option at this point." A small grimace crosses over his features before he shakes his head. There's no other solution, so why fret over it. Signaling to one of the sailors, Sebastian instructs, "Go down to cargo and set up a comfortable cot and some basic amenities in one of the holding cells. Hang some sheets or damaged sails, whatever is handy and not being used, so it looks a little less like a prison and more like a room?" The man nods with a glance at the Varati and rumbles, "Aye aye, Mister Sebastian. Be set up in a jiffy fer ye," and departs, scratching his head as he clambers down into the hold.
So many stories to tell and no one back home to really share them with. The crumpled piece of parchment is tightened within the domina's grip as she glances down at it, the words forever smudged; she could not send it even if she wanted to. It is obvious that she's listening to the instructions and again she looks towards the sickly Varati. Well, at least he's pretty much harmless right now. Her wings shiver momentary and she pulls them closer in against herself like a welcome security blanket. "What are you going to do with him," she asks cautiously, stepping closer to Sebastian.
Minowa lowers the water-logged rag and then gently settles her patient's head onto the mattress. At long last she leans backwards, straightening, becoming once again aware of the world beyond that single Varati lying on the deck. Her knees hurt where they're grinding against the wooden boards. So does her back from staying stooped over for so long. And she's still nude. The halfbreed pushes herself to her feet, walking over and slipping her clothing back on. Or, at least that was the plan, but standing up seems to be as far as she gets when she suddenly becomes dizzy enough to sink back down again. She overtaxed herself a bit..something she didn't allow herself to notice until the danger had passed. "He's going to sleep for a while," she says. "He can go below deck as soon as the room is ready. We make due with what we have, hmm? I could use a bit of rest as well. If possible, keep the mast, please, until I'm feeling more myself." She looks up and over as Zea speaks, and then to Sebastian. It's a good question, really.
Her choice of words puzzles Sebastian at first, his brow creasing as he echoes, "Do with him? Well, first and foremost we'll take care of him, try to nurse him back to health. Until he is well enough to talk, we won't know where he's from, what happened to him and his ship, where he was bound for ... anything really. Once we determine all that? Well, then the rest depends. We may just keep him on board. We may try to find another ship to transfer him to that can help him get where he is going. We may simply keep him on board till we return to Parnassus and let him make his way from there ..." His gaze drops down to the unconscious man thoughtfully as he murmurs, "As long as there's no reason to suspect that he will prove to be violent or dangerous, we'll aid him in whatever way we ..." but as Minowa rises, and tilts, Sebastian moves quickly, catching her by her arms to help steady her. "Sit a moment ... you've been using a lot of magic, you must be drained. You there!" he calls out to a passing sailor, his head jerking at the pile of clothes Minowa left on the deck. The sailor scoops them up, carrying them over and offering them to her as Sebastian eases Minowa toward a crate to sit upon comfortably for awhile. "Best you take the time to stop by the galley - get some food and drink for yourself." His gaze drops to the Varati as he murmurs, "I don't think he's going to be waking up again any time soon. I can have one of the sailors sit with him for awhile so you can rest."
Zea gives a short nod that offers no suggestion as to her opinion on the matter. There is no smile on her lips, no sign that she approves, but neither is there a disapproving frown or a look of disgust. It simply is what it is, and again Zea reminds herself that she is a guest. She sets down her desk and the crumpled letter and steps over to where she set down her tankard. She's only taken a couple sips from it, it is nearly still full. It was the mention of food and drink that reminded her she brought it up in the first place. Crossing over to where the weak halfbreed sits she offers it to her. "Here," Zea says, extending the tankard. "It's just water, but it might help?"
Minowa sinks appreciatively onto the crate, sliding her offered clothing back on. Her wet braid thwaps softly against her back as its pull free from the shirt and resettled. "You're probably right. I'm no good to anyone if I'm about to pass out myself. Have someone find me, wake me if they have to, if anything changes with him. That lad hiccups, I want to know about it." She looks over as Zea arrives with a tankard of water, and webbed fingers wrap appreciatively around the offering. "Thank you, Domina," she says before lifting the drink to her lips and draining the mug dry in a continuous series of gulps.
Sebastian quietly studies Zea for a moment, noticing her studiously composed features and restrains himself from letting loose a gusty sigh of vague annoyance. Not his problem. If she doesn't care to tell him what she's thinking, he certainly isn't going to pry to find out. Most likely he wouldn't like what he uncovered anyway. "I'll give the sailor clear instructions." And with that he crosses over to a grouping that are watching the injured man quietly and curiously. Quiet orders are given and within a few minutes the men have come over, carefully lifting up the corners and sides of the mattress, carrying the Varati man down into the hold of the ship. Sebastian watches as Minowa drinks deeply from Zea's tankard, the tension in his features draining slightly as he has to confess that the gesture is likely a hefty one for Zea. Recognition and response to the need of a halfbreed. Nothing to sniff at for someone of Zea's background and upbringing. One step at a time, Sebastian reminds himself. One step at a time. To Minowa, he inquires, "Will you be alright, or shall I escort you down to the galley?"
Minowa shakes her head. "I'll be fine. Nothing a full belly and a short nap won't fix." She stands, this time a little more slowly and is pleased to find her legs remain reliably beneath her. With a nod to everyone above deck, she heads down below for food and a place to rest.
Zea takes back the tankard once it is empty and gives the other woman a nod, an acceptance of the halfbreed's appreciation. She takes a few steps back, clearing the way for Minowa to depart and Zea watches her go, perhaps half-expecting her to collapse or need help after all. She holds the tankard with both hands and once the halfbreed has gone below deck she turns her gaze over to Sebastian. Watching Minowa depart, Sebastian is relieved that her temporary weakness has departed for the moment, grateful that she is wise enough to know when to take care of herself first. His eyes eventually sidle back to Zea as he inquires curiously, "Well, was that sufficiently exciting for you?" He takes a few steps to the rail, leaning out to watch their course, eyes lifting up to the sails which, with his renewed attention, suddenly crackle and swell with wind, the speed of the ship increasing slightly.
Zea follows him to the railing, and as the sails fill with wind she looks skyward, admiring again his abilities. A smile colors her lips and she nods. "It was ... certainly not what I expected," she answers honestly as one hand reaches over to rest on his arm. "None of this is what I expected, though I'm not sure exactly what I expected." She turns her gaze outwards toward the seas, seas clear now, no objects float in the distance, no sign of anything else amiss. Gently her fingers caress his arm in a quiet moment shared between the two of them.
He steals away his question before he has the chance to ask it, cause Sebastian's lips to curl into a silent smirk. Leaning against the rail he covers the hand she lays against his arm with his opposite hand, the pressure light and noncommittal. His gaze also shifts out to sea, half expecting to find more debris, more signs and clues as to what happened to that man. To the ship he was sailing. A frown mars his features as his gaze shifts back to the mast, then flickering to where his father and Mister Burke stand together a few yards away, quietly talking and occasionally glancing at the mast in turn.
Her eyes drift down to his hand atop hers, and when they rise to his face she finds the frown darkening his features. There is confusion in her eyes, a sudden understanding that there is so much here she doesn't understand and again she's reminded this world is far removed from hers. She looks away, first to the water and then down to her covered hand. "I should go and check on Domina Tritonides," she says with a defeated tone as she pulls her hand away from him. "She might need something more to drink." She steps away from the railing, pauses once more to study him and there is a moment where she almost changes her mind and stays. "Until later," she murmurs before turning and heading towards the hatch.
