Featuring: Minowa and Zea
Date: February 11, 2005
IC Date: April 8, 3931
Summary: A quiet late night discussion aboard the Amarada brings up dark memories of her new sister ship, the Makara.

Amarada - Open 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.

It's night in the twin cities, and the shifting to spring still leaves a sharp biting chill to the night air. Small waves slap against the sides of the docked ships. A lullaby to some, an auditory intrusion to others. Minowa has taken to spending her nights either on the Amarada or in one of the Bottom's inns. Since she resigned her position at the Castallia, she was rather brusquely told to clean out her living quarters, and the following day found her Bridge Guild license revoked. It seems the dueling factions of the Empyrean government would rather not have powerful magic users in the city if their allegiance cannot be ordered. Where this leaves Minowa is sitting on the railing of the Amarada, skin glowing softly in the darkness as she studies, not for the first time, the changes in the Amarada.

It is not just powerful halfbreeds that are given the feeling of not being welcome, but purebloods experience such rejection as well. For Zea the feeling is self-inflicted. For any regular member of the Amarada's crew, the noblewoman's presence on board might not come as much of a shock - rumors of her and the captain and all - but the hours she keeps on deck might have a few more curious that usual. At such an hour shouldn't all good noblewomen be safe in their homes far away from the rabble that gathers on the docks each day? But Zea is making no suggestion that she's ready to leave the Amarada as she comes up from below. A brisk wind tugs at her unbound hair, causing her to tighten her cloak around her. She's even taken to dressing down, or as much as could be expected for one of her upbringing, but she'd still get a few odd looks should she want a meal in the Nereus. The noblewoman has been spending a great deal of time on the ship ever since she and the captain returned from Civitas Dei and since that return some of the crew who know her have noted she seems changed. Quieter, for certain, and not as pushy as one would expect. It is in one of these quiet moments of reflection that she wanders towards the rail of the ship, leans against it and with a wistful sigh looks over to the faint lights of Parnassus in the distance.

The halfbreed turns her speculation away from the new contours of the ship at the sound of feet on the deck. She watches in silence as Zea moves to rest nearby, taking note of the cloak...less ornate than usual. The unbound hair as well is a different. Following the domina's gaze towards the twinkling lanterns of the town, she muses, "Funny, isn't it, that spring feels colder than winter this year." For herself, the half-Atlantean remains in pants and a sleeveless shirt, seemingly unaffected by the sharp air.

Zea answers the halfbreed without looking at her. "Downright frigid," she admits with another sigh. The slight exhale sends tiny tendrils of frozen breath out into the air, and Zea does it again to watch - fascinated - by the simple act of nature. She seems a bit unaccustomed to her new 'casual' appearance, at least out of doors, for her hands continually fidget with her hair as the night air carries it across her features. She draws silent again for a few moments to watch a couple of mongrels stumble along on the docks, singing loudly and rather lewdly about the natural assets of a local Cyprian. Eventually she turns her head enough to catch sight of the glowing woman standing next to her, and unlike most of her brethren she does not shy away from the halfbreed. "Are you here to aid in the changes the captain asks for in his ship, or will you be staying on once the Amarada leaves Parnassus?"

Minowa addresses the last question first. "I'm here at the moment because I find coming into one of the inns after nightfall calls too much attention to myself and it's easier to simply bunk on the Amarada. I have been invited to be part of the crew once the Amarada heads towards the North, and since my bridges here seem to have been burned for me..." She swallows a small sigh before continuing. "Also, to make sure everything that was Shaped on the outside still accommodates the inside, though for the most part, I believe she's nearly complete." There is a small, perhaps hesitant pause. "The Amarada, at any rate. Though Sebastian did say he may want me to shape a second ship as well." Her gaze drifts down her hands, dangling over the railing. Her lips part as if she's about to add something else, but they close again. Finally she says, "If this is not being too forward, domina, you've changed since we first met. More, recently. Is everything...all right?"

On the other hand Zea doesn't answer the first question last, but rather focuses more on the art and craft of Shaping. She was witness to the Amarada's exterior changes but it is not that ship which concerns her. She turns her head and looks back down to the docks. "The Makara," she says, not as a question but as a known fact. Her wings shiver at the sound of the ship's name from her own lips. With a sweep from her hand she brushes off the last question, perhaps not quite ready to speak of such things. "Fine, everything will be ... fine." She is not entirely rude, but there is a touch of finality in her words, and certainly it must still be a raw subject if she would willingly venture back to a discussion on the pirate vessel. "That ship's an evil thing, Minowa," she comments quietly, as if speaking of it aloud might waken some dark force. "I've heard that some shapers can see things when they work. Touch that ship, Minowa, and I believe that you'll touch evil."

The halfbreeds fingers lift and clasp together. A slightly awkward position for partly-webbed fingers. Were she a full Atlantean, her anatomy would prevent it all together. "We do see things, yes," Minowa agrees. "We see, sometimes relive, the memories that the material holds. I do not quite understand why Sebastian has kept this ship, but if he wishes it and its potential captain to sail with the Amarada, she will need to be Shaped. For practical and other reasons. I cannot say I'm looking forward to the experience. Part of me wishes Sebastian had let her sink to the bottom of the sea." Minowa pauses to clear her throat and shift her feet slightly. "Actually," and just the way she says that word, so slow and reluctant to leave her lips, one can surmise the next comment can be nothing but bad news, "I would like to ask you a rather difficult favor concerning the Makara."

"Burned her and then let her sink," Zea adds bitterly, her voice low and her gaze wandering over the docks without really seeing anything at all. She takes in a deep breath and holds it for a few moments before releasing it, and some of her anger, out into the aether. There is another long pause from the noblewoman as her wings draw in around her like a warm barrier against the chill she feels drifting across the harbor from the ship currently under discussion. Zea rubs at her temple with her fingers before raising a weary head and once again looking at the halfbreed woman at her side. Perhaps she has a sense of what Minowa will ask, for her tone suggests a bit of defeat. "Ask your questions Minowa, and I will answer as best I can."

"I do not doubt that there are many things I would rather not experience if I see that ship's memories. But, I cannot lose concentration while Shaping a vessel. That could be dangerous for everyone on board. The more I know about what I may see, the safer the process is, and those memories that concern those I...I would consider friends would be the most upsetting, and so the most disruptive." There is another moment of stiff and tension-filled silence. Then: "Domina, would you be willing to share with me what happened on the Makara?"

It was what she feared and expected, thus the long preparation before allowing Minowa to ask the question. With a silent gesture towards some large crates, Zea moves to take a seat and indicated that the halfbreed should join her. What an image the two of them must present and what a scandal it would create should any of her kin spot her. But no one will find her here, not at this hour and right now, she does not really care.

"I ... I cannot offer you an insight to all the horrors that ship has likely seen. You are on your own on that, I'm afraid. I can only tell you what I witnessed." Zea takes in a deep breath, steadying herself for the inevitable. "I lost blood on that ship, Minowa. Likely it is soaked right into the ship's wood. It was ... torture under the guise of generosity. That halfbreed captain pretended he was being kind, but he was anything but. Trapped in his stateroom like caged animals, our wings bound and ripped apart when an escape was attempted. Wrists and ankles bound to the point that the ropes wore our flesh raw. There were nights when I barely slept, days when I could not eat and the endless hours of fear at what the threatened would happen to us if we misbehaved."

Minowa follows after Zea in solemn silence, seating herself on a crate beside the empyrean. She rests leaning forward, hands dangling between her knees as she silently absorbs Zea's words. "I remember the condition of your wings as well as the other captives," she replies softly. And then she is silent again, waiting to see if Zea has finished her tale or has yet more to share.

How can anyone reduce those endless days of fear into a few brief sentences and provide any real insight into what happened? In one moment Zea would gloss over the entire event and try to forget it entirely and in the next she would relive each and every breath she took in that rotten hull. Her expression is one of a conflicted woman as she sighs and continues. "They took no care in anything that they did, Minowa. It was a sport for them, a brutal and bloody sport with no honor or respect in it. At least when gladiators fight there is a purpose to it. But this, this was nothing but revenge and plunder with a healthy dose of lies and pain. You will find a lot of fear in that wood, Minowa. Cold and unrelenting fear. If you can hear the past no doubt you'll hear screaming and begging, as well as a good amount of stubborn defiance." The gods know Zea can be stubborn when she wants to be. "And the gods only know what happened to others who might have been victims aboard her."

Minowa lowers her head and nods slowly, keeping her gaze on the other woman. She will not look away from the retelling or from the painful expressions flitting over the empyrean's face. "Thank you, Domina. If there is anything I can do to repay this favor, you have only to ask." The wind swirls sharply around them, carrying a faint moan as it flies through the riggings.

Strangely, Zea reaches out and lays a tentative hand against Minowa's arm. "If the captain will allow it, you should tour that ship and absorb it before you try to shape it. Perhaps then you will not be so shocked?" True, the Empyrean has no real understanding of what happens when a material reveals its history, but it is all the advice she can offer. She lowers her head slightly and closes her eyes, as if offering up a small prayer to one of the many Empyrean gods. But if she does so, it is done within her heart, for her lips do not move. When she raises her head to meet Minowa's gaze, she speaks with a voice warmer than that which had relayed the tale, or the feel of it, at least. "Minowa, I'll be leaving with the Amarada when she leaves Parnassus, and likely I'll not be returning here. There is no need for titles, you may call me Zea."

The halfbreed's eyebrows lift in quiet surprise at that last statement. She had wondered if Sebastian had asked her, and yet the Zea she had known would not have chosen this path. Something *had* changed, true and deep. "Zea, then," Minowa replies, a small smile touching her lips. "It will be quite an adventure, and it feels too long since I went well and truly on an adventure." The topic of the Makara is dropped as simply as that, and whether Minowa will use Zea's suggestion or no remains unaddressed. "I think you'll find it to your liking as well."

Zea tries to smile, but can only offer a sad one. "To my liking? Well, I am not quite sure about that, but it will certainly be a new experience, if nothing more." Zea withdraws her hand and lets it sit quietly in her lap. "I am leaving so much behind, Minowa and I fear I've burned far more bridges than you. I am glad to know you'll be on the Amarada; it will be good to have a familiar face among all of these strangers. It will be good to have ..." The last words take a while to come and with them comes a hint of a question, as if she is not sure the term is the correct one. "A friend." Her wings unfurl at her back, careful of the woman beside her, and Zea gets to her feet. "I would ask you one favor, Minowa, if you could grant it." Her gaze travels away from the ship and into the darkness blanketing the estuary. "Change that ship." No need to say which one, they both know of what she speaks. "Change her completely. I may be spending some time aboard her and I'd like to pretend she is a brand new vessel, a virgin on the seas, not some old whore who has given every customer her sickness."

Minowa tips her head a little to the side at the mentioning of burned bridges. Curiosity shows in her eyes, but she does not ask. Instead, her gaze softens at Zea's hesitant comment and she offers a nod at the questioning tone. "A friend," she agrees. As Zea rises, she does as well. Most of the drunkards begin wandering home soon, and it would be better for a glowing halfbreed to be below decks when that happens. "I promise. If she is to accompany the Amarada, you will not recognize her." She glances out towards the ship in question, and then back to Zea. "I should get some rest, and you as well."

Zea takes a half-step towards the edge of the ship in the direction of Parnassus before she reconsiders. She looks trapped between taking flight and disappearing below and decides on neither path. "I'll be fine up here for a while longer, Minowa. You get your rest; no doubt you'll need your strength more than any of us in the next few days." Again she tries to find a smile and again she fails. "Thank you, for listening and for the work you will be doing. The Amarada is lucky to have you." With a nod of her head towards the halfbreed and then a slight gesture of her chin toward the hold, Zea again secures her cloak around her and heads towards the bow of the ship where the wooden image of the beautiful Empyrean woman forever watches silently over the waters.

Minowa observes Zea walk away, leaving many things unquestioned and unsaid. But there will be more time to listen and learn. For now, it seems what the Empyrean needs is space and silence. With a nod, albeit to the other woman's back, Minowa lifts the hatch and vanished below deck.