5408/Unraveling

Unraveling
Date of Scene:	01 August 2017
Location:	New Providence <NP>
Synopsis:	On the eve of the Urca hunt, a member of the Walrus crew comes forward with some troubling information.
Cast of Characters:	Captain Flint, 945, 632, Starbound Flotilla, Sombra, 1119, Lyria Mason, Priscilla

---

Captain Flint has posed:
A week has passed since Captain Flint first sent out a multiversal casting call for assistance. In that time, the Walrus, her crew, and even a few of the Elites hired for the Urca hunt have been preparing. The launch point for the hunt is one of New Providence's many beaches, from which the Walrus can be seen anchored in the distance.

     The ship has had upgrades thanks to Captain Pavo. As it slowly bobs in the sea, a perceptive eye can spot the moonlight glinting off of its newly reinforced hull. A skeleton crew watches over the ship, appearing only as vague shadows shuffling around the deck, illuminated by softly glowing lanterns on the quarterdeck.

     The shore is littered with launches, small rowboats used to travel either from boat to boat or from boat to shore. Every couple of hours, the Walrus crew takes turns, working in shifts to guard the boat. Further inland, but before the dense tropical treeline, tents dot the sand. This loose conglomeration of temporary, makeshift housing also sports a fire pit, where the ship's cook, John Silver, slowly roasts a pig.

     The night air is tense--none of the men have tried something like this before, and Flint, Gates and Billy all forbade liquor (and the creatively named Fuck Tent) to ensure clear heads would prevail the following day. Even the odd cackle in the distance seems diminished from what it might otherwise be. Flint himself has a tent set up with a table and a goodly amount of maps, as well as the Urca schedule. He's spent the last few hours poring over those maps, contemplating strategy. But where are the Elites?

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
In the horizon, fog appears, surrounding a black, rotted ship moving faster than a ship normally should, approaching the shore. The Coma Navaja parks a bit away, as Lima Ultimos steps up to the bow, using a rope to swing over as he shouts to his crew. "TURN OFF THE FOG MACHINE!"

Once on shore, the undead captain rolls on up to Flint's tent, knocking twice with a 'ahoy!'. Whether let in or not, he speaks. "Captain Flint, me crew be ready. When we setting off?"

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     The moonlight and flickering fire cast Septette in a strange chiaroscuro two-tone, after the white glitter of an Ariadne's Thread teleport fades. Her built-in glowing lights are keenly visible where the cool midnight shade catches her, but the warm firelight that often graces the other side of her face gives her features a believably natural tone.

     She pulls her shawl tightly around her shoulders to ward off the chill- a reflexive imitation of humanity, at this point- and trudges though the camp aimlessly until she spots a unique tent. Either the captain's, or the Fuck Tent. She closes her eyes, and flips the proverbial coin.

     A skeletal, mechanical hand slips inside the flap and pulls it back. Septette opens one eye, and then sighs in visible relief. "Captain Flint. A pleasure to see you again. Tell me, have the strategies we devised last time significantly changed? I wish to stay abreast of any recent modifications."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    When the Starbound Flotilla make temporary housing, they make some real goddamn housing. Somehow they have a full, almost fort-like structure set up. Not a lot of local metal to work with, but plenty of sand, which means they've crafted some strange partially-glassed futuristic sandstone-like material to craft a small staging area. Here's where they've set up a sort of dry-dock for their main shuttlecraft, and have been hard at work converting it to an effective sea vessel, and disguising it with wooden facades as just an oddly shaped contemporary craft. It's really almost done, from the look of it.

    They're hard at work. This is their other specialty. Arms and armor. Power cutlasses, auto-flintlocks, magnetic cannons, and armored coats have been being manufactured and deployed from the small temporary drydock's manufactory, for use by the Flotilla and by any crew seeking to participate. Laser-guns and such would be a pointless waste of a pirate's skill; Pavo's more locally-flavored designs will be best in their hands. If there's one thing the Starbound Flotilla know how to do, it's build. They do it well, and they do it quickly, and most relevantly of all, they're doing it right now. Almost every one of them is manning one station or another, working on their projects.

    They'll be ready to launch when it's time. Assuming no odd interruptions, anyway. Pavo's here, though, to help out with the planning. She's a bit straightforward with her tactics, but she's mostly there to help clarify how the Flotilla can help, whenever Flint has any questions. Space-pirate consultation!

Sombra has posed:
    An unseen shadow makes its way to the tents, though it appears the moment the flap to the tent is pulled aside... and the colourful hacker can be seen, offering Flint a cheeky grin. "Hola. Wait for long?" She makes herself comfortable as she walks on over and begins peering at the maps. "Oh, I found some better versions of those... allow me."

    The latina then taps one finger to the air, and several holoscreens appear, showing various 3D projections of the ship itself, the area they're going to attack it in..." Did you get the information I sent you...?" she inquires curiously. She had compiled it all into one file for the people who are joining them tonight, though... not everybody is that good with tech, sadly. But then again, that's why they have her here, isn't it?

    Her eyes glance to the others present. You guys have gotten the info she sent right? Even if it was finished a bit late due to her being out of commission this weekend.

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    It's probably a good thing all the usual methods of pirate 'fun' have been veto'd for the evening. Not that Josuke would partake of any, most likely, but passing out from nosebleeds are a whole different thing. Either one would leave him unable to fully utilize his skills the next day, which would be inconvenient.

    Either way, Josuke arrives, in that Western-esque attire -- the brown sweater and green undershirt, darker brown trousers, and gold-brown shoes. Despite the different outfit, he's still recognizable -- he's still wearing that expensive brand of shoes, and he's got his hair in his signature style.

    He'll ask around for Flint, and probably end up being pointed to the tent. Once he realizes that's where Flint is, he peeks in cautiously. "Um, hi?" He always seems so meek, despite his armored, violent 'other'. But, he's here, nonetheless.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason had done some homeworkd nad sees a storm is likely to come, the Santisima Trinidad also looks like it's going to end up in distress. Humm this could be not a good haul and is certainly something to bring up though chocolate and spices are worth something in this era if they can move it, right? She's going over her mPad still with the information and she pauses as she near the tent and stares at the fog machine for a moment. She shakes her head a bit and nowmakes for the tent. She's also still dressed in that outfit that is half way between swimwear and normal land clothing.

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla hadn't been here last time, but she'd had a hand in overseeing this particular venture from well early back, and it's refreshing to see that, contrary to her experiences not even a year ago, she can trust her new allies and subordinates to handle moving things along smoothly. As expected, Sombra already has the digital details mapped out, and the new Starbound crew is industriously at work with a project that would have taken ten times their number otherwise. Seeing Josuke again is a pleasant surprise, and so she has spent at least a moment at some point in the night to give him at least a passing greeting. When Lima rolls up, however, and Septette ports it, she assumes that to be the full extent of Concord forces available for the night.

    As for herself, she's been wandering around the beach in the night, at a healthy distance from the camp. A lack of booze and debauchery is something she certainly appreciates for what it is, making it way less uncomfortable to be around a crew of pirates, but it pays to be vigilant anyways, and it's always hard to see into the dark when you're standing in the light. At some point, she's procured one of those auto-flintlocks and hooked it into a silver-chained belt around her waist, carrying a small number of potentially useful supplies in sturdy Lordran adventurer's cases, from which she's been littering the ground with tiny glowing stones of seemingly random colours, to draw a line around the camp which someone would be seen crossing. Otherwise, her light to guide the way is the shimmering, pale blue blade of Moonlight in one hand, visibly armed as well as bathed in its ethereal glow.

Captain Flint has posed:
Flint looks up from his work, scrutinizing Lima for a half-second as the pirate enters. There's an unsettling lack of transparency in that look--but it quickly vanishes and melts into a more palatable, winning smile, as if the two of them were reacquainted friends. "It's good to see you again, Captain Ultimos. We set sail at dawn, but I'd like your indulgence for a moment if I may."

     He sets his quill aside to give his full attention to his 'consultants,' just in time for Sombra's maps to appear before his eyes. "Thank you, Sombra," he says, before motioning everyone in. Josuke gets an encouraging push from behind--Billy Bones gives him a hearty (but friendly) clap on the back before going to help prepare.

     Flint rolls up the map he'd been poring over. Beneath it is a manila folder from Sombra, which the captain picks up. "I did," he says. He's silent for a time, the occasional whir of power tools from the Flotilla, the gentle rolling of the waves and the odd yell from a rowdy pirate in the distance serving as a tense backdrop. His seafoam eyes slowly sweep from face to face. "And I still think it's worth the endeavor. To that end, Septette, I believe our strategy to be sound." He reaches out with his bejeweled hand, a ray of moonlight from the tent's open flap briefly glinting against the rings as he offers his copy to any interested parties--including, of course, Priscilla.

     "I'd heard you were here," he says to Priscilla. "My thanks for the safety precautions you've taken on our behalf. Can we expect your... personal assistance tomorrow?" His eyes drift to the autoflintlock holstered at her side.

Priscilla has posed:
    "Think little of it." Priscilla says to Flint, her perpetual inside voice pretty appropriate for once. "I wouldst feel ill at ease waiting without doing so. It is a well engrained habit of mine to see to dark pits and blind corners before proceeding anywhere of import." Lordran is sort of like that. She even checks the edges of drops to make sure nothing is clinging to them, waiting to climb up.

    She takes the copied folder in one hand, dextrously flipping through it with her thumb, so she can keep her other hand on her gently sparkling sword, slowly rippling with its own, water-like shadows. Her eyes catch the light weirdly, as yet another reminder as if one were needed, of the kind of high profile supernatural assistance Captain Flint seems to have drawn interest from. After a few seconds of reading, she concludes it sound enough. "All things allowing, yes. Thou hast been a reliable and forthright contact thus far, as well as a potentially highly profitable one. There is little reason to extendeth not the same reliability owed by the Concord." She takes a second to glance at that glimmer of rings, before realizing they're just jewels.

    "Lady Sombra. As the most qualified operations coordinator, what art thine thoughts?" she asks, then going down the list in sequence. "And when shalt thou be set to sail, Lady Pavo? Sir Ultimos, hast thou the time to remaineth here and join as a fleet, and what time and formation in setting out wouldst thou recommendeth. Lady Septette, I certainly hope the decks shalt not be a problem for thee. I am aware the ocean is little hazard, but it wouldst not do to spend time fishing thee off of the floor. And Sir Higashikata . . ." she trips over that name for a second. "It is good to see thee once more. The ammunition is fifty paces to thine left, outside."

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     The little robot quietly accepts the physical copy, breezes through its pages like a flipbook, nods perfunctorily, and then hands it to the next interested party. Her memory hardly needs refreshing; it's sufficient to check nothing's changed from the digital copy she received and memorize any annotations in the margins. The other people in the tent all earn a collective respectful nod from Septette; seems she isn't much one for formal ceremony or obeisances.

     Internally, as always, her mind is going through its paces: if Priscilla is present for the actual raid, that could be quite a boon; the opportunity to impress the First of the Concord in person is one she hasn't had yet.

     The little robot silently weighs the future utility of potentially gaining favor with the Concord by detonating her assigned ship's powder store immediately against the lives that would be lost by doing so, and finds that not detonating it is still preferable. Taking down an entire ship decisively without killing those aboard is a tricky and messy task, but one she's still committed to attempting.

     "Glad to hear I'm still up to date," she responds, after only a fraction of a second's pause. "My plan is to slag the escort's cannons or ammunition stores once I am aboard; this should effectively neuter them without loss of life, unless they are so foolhardy as to wish to board us."

     Priscilla, in turn, earns a polite smile and slight shrug of nonchalance. "I have ways of self-extricating in such a situation; worry not. A tactic that springs to mind is using ice magic to freeze a large chunk of water, and riding the buoyancy of the artificial glacier back up to the surface. In extremis, I can always warp back to the Deep City, ending my participation in the mission." Seems she's thought this through adequately- but then, it'd be quite unlike her to not do so.

Sombra has posed:
    As Josuke walks into the tent Sombra turns her head, then brightens up. "Oh, glad you could make it, amigo..." With that she walks over to the young man and hands him one of her translocators. "You said you could throw this onto the ship, right?" she reminds him. It would certainly make it easier for her to get some stuff done for her.

    Since there's no fun to be had, Sombra sits down on the edge of the table as she works the holovids for the others to show the info that she found out. No, the ship isn't exactly what they thought it would be, but Flint is right. It's still worth it if they can get the loot. Not to mention it could be fun.

    The question from Priscilla catches her attention, and the hacker looks at the others. "It's unlikely we can catch them completely by surprise, but we can certainly divert their attention. Capitane Lima, your ship has that fog machine, does it not? And if our friend Josuke," she continues, gesturing to the youth with a nod, "can throw my translocator onto the ship, then I will be able to get onto the ship easy and be a distraction. I will leave the heavy fighting up to you who are more skilled at that, but at best I can give you guys an opening and secure the loot onboard while you handle the crew, sí?" Again she looks around, to see whether her suggestion has any objections.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason didn't expect Priscillia to be here nd that makes Lyria do a bit of a double takes she also looks over to Combra and she says "Seems we're both like minded on that Sombra."

Lyria has some data she'll pass it to Sombra, for the event she found somethign sombra didn't. She also seems to chill down for themomtn.

"I got your data, it's appicated, Sombra."

She now looks to the captain.

"If the oceans act up I'll know a bit before it happens..."

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    The clap on the shoulder from behind gets a surprised, "Ack!" But Josuke enters nonetheless, looking sheepish at the momentary flailing. He does wait for a moment, so that Flint can finish speaking before he speaks up. "I don't need a gun, but do you mind if I borrow some of the ammunition?" Crazy Diamond can thump the ammunition like a child might flick marbles with their thumbs, but fast enough to qualify as 'being fired out of a gun'. It'll be handy!

    Josuke definitely returns Priscilla's greeting, with all effervescence due his personality. "Hi! Good to see you again!" He's rather perky for someone who has basically a demon inside him that can flurry punch something practically into paste. And then she tells him where the ammunition is. "Oh! Thanks!"

    Septette gets a worried look. "I can try to help if you get broken," he offers. "But I think you said I'd probably have trouble trying to fix you." Notably, he's not going all arrogant 'my power can fix anything', but instead respecting the difficulties of such where Septette is concerned. "I'd be willing to try if you want, though." Never know unless they try, right?

    Sombra's greeting gets a smile, and a bright, "Hi there!" And then he looks at the translocator as it's handed to him. Sombra recalls the plan, and Josuke nods. "I can try. I might have to throw MYSELF over there first. I'll keep it as safe as I can," he promises.

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
"Indulge away, aye!" Lima Ultimos sits down, tipping his head to Priscilla. "Nay, we be going in to 'attack' our friend here! Be fooling the enemy straight into our trap!" The pirate greets everyone else with a nod, playing with a dagger on his fingers, as he responds to Sombra. "Aye, we picked it up for a good deal! It makes all of our entrances be flashy! And we be having enough fog, if ye be planning what I think ye be planning..."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Oh, we've a readiness to sail any time ye could want, First of Concord." Pavo says, confidently. "But the Flotilla, she lives and dies on the polish of her work. Ye take a hard mark's loot when ye work hard. Any time we have before settin' off, we'll fill with arms and armor." She twirls her own auto-flintlock pistol expertly just to demonstrate as she speaks, then holsters it in her brace of pistols.

    "Speakin' o' which." She says, gesturing to one side. "OI!" She calls out to one of her Flotilla-mates. "Bring it in!!" It's Albert who brings in the odd bracelet-like contraption. A ring made of elegant, futuristic design, full of small, gleaming spheres. "Yer guns for the day, lad." She says, to Josuke, taking the little bracelet and offering it to him. It looks like it lines up an opening with his palm, where it dispenses the little... Ball bearings? No, that dangerous gleaming is way more worrying than that. "Bombs worse than black powder." She says. "Don't bring 'em out the ring unless you're gonna fire them in less than five seconds, matey. Otherwise ye might not have a hand anymore. Ye break it, ye've bought the farm." They've crafted up some ammo for him! Just as promised at the last meeting.

    Pavo makes a sour noise at Septette's nonlethality, but seems accepting. "Ayyye, if ye must. Yer too much a profit for me to complain of yer scruples, too many though ye have, matey." Then she dedicates all her attention to the holovids, keenly examining them. She wasn't joking, they're VERY dedicated to this work, and she's particularly dedicated to understanding the composition and details of any target.

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     Josuke may be relatively humble, but that is vastly more than can be said for his prospective patient! Septette's lips purse slightly, giving the impression that she's struggling to find the right words. "I tell you what, kiddo," she finally says in a diplomatic tone, "if I get hurt, and you fix me up, drinks are on me." She puts more stress on the word 'if' than is necessary, but at least she seems to appreciate the sentiment!

     Pavo gets a gentle elbow right below the ribs and a playful glare. "Not scruples, parrate," she retorts. "Scruples implies tangential to actual goals. Not applicable when your goal is itself helping people. I'm as ruthless at that as you are with greed." ... But if that's true, what kind of mental gymnastics have brought her to helping pirates raid a ship, anyway? That's just bizarre.

     Then she folds her arms behind her back and sinks into the shadows of the corner, content to fade into the background. No sense in talking over those who might have something more important to say.

Captain Flint has posed:
Flint listens to input from everyone regarding the plans. Even if the Urca doesn't have the haul they're looking for, one of the escorts might. They have to take the chance, for what might stand to be gained... thankfully, everyone seems to agree with that.

     It's Josuke's question which first rouses him from his pondering. Ammunition? He doesn't seem to be wearing a gun. Then, he remembers. "Ah, yes--for Crazy Diamond," he says, nodding with recognition. "Take as much as you need... within reason." In other words, he can help himself as long as he doesn't walk off with the whole lot of it. Between that and the nasty piece of work the Flotilla has cooked up for him, Josuke'll be right at home aboard the Walrus!

     Though he doesn't offer any verbal acknowledgment, Lyria's remark regarding the weather is indeed taken under consideration by the captain. His eyes flick towards her, nodding as Priscilla and Septette discuss backup plans.

     Lima takes a seat, which earns him a respectful nod from his fellow captain. Flint stands and peers at the 3D map Sombra has projected. "I must admit I'm interested in Captain Ultimos' talk of a 'fog machine' for a number of reasons, not the least of which shall be its uses in shock and awe tactics--but let us first discuss the broader strategy." He raises a hand to gesture to the glowing model.

     "According to the Urca's schedule--"

     Before Flint can finish, a bellow from outside interrupts him, followed by a harried Billy Bones rushing into the tent.

     "Captain," the young, blonde pirate begins. "Mr. Silver requests your assistance."

     Flint sighs and strokes his goatee, his thumb and forefinger dragging a line down the sides of his mouth.

     Billy leans forward, looking quickly from Flint to the door, as if to punctuate the urgency of Mr. Silver's request.

     "Excuse me," says Flint. He steps out of the tent, the gentle evening breeze blowing it open enough for those inside to see the captain stalk off. Those who dare to peek, or even to follow, will see him making a beeline towards John Silver and his spit roast, who are joined by two visibly upset pirates.

     If one stays downwind, one can hear the conversation. "This cook's trying to kill us!" says one of the pirates, a bald, sunbeaten man with a faded red bandana. "The pig gave us the shits."

     Flint leans over, digging into the meat with one hand and taking a piece off. He pops it into his mouth and chews it. "It tastes fine," says the captain. Judging by his composure, it really does taste fine. No retching--and as far as one can see in the evening light, not even a sour face. "It wasn't the pig." The two pirates look at each other and bitterly walk away, perhaps both eager to look for a fight in the absence of other vices.

     But the moment the two of them walk away, Flint spits the meat out in disgust. "What the /fuck/ did you do to that?" he hisses.

     "...I cooked it?" Silver quirks an eyebrow at Flint.

     "You absolutely /did not./"

     "The men seemed to think it was done," utters the cook defensively.

     "They'd eat it raw, if left to their own devices," retorts the captain.

     "That's awfully cynical," Silver chuckles.

     Flint isn't in the mood for Silver's sense of humor, however. His face like a stone wall, he gestures to the Walrus. "Go get another pig and do exactly as I say." The chef leaves, and Flint begins heading back to the tent. Near one of the tents on the beach, a pirate with shaggy brown hair puffs thoughtfully on a wooden pipe.

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Josuke blinks at the bracelet. Then he winces a bit at the explanation. Though he is nonetheless impressed with the design, and the function. And the fact that something so small has that much power. And so he notes, "Kewl!" Yes, that particular verbal quirk of his asserts itself here. "Five seconds? I'll remember that -- hold no more than four-and-a-half seconds, just to be on the safe side." He pockets the bracelet. "Thanks! I'll give it back as soon as we're done."

    Septette's words prompt a wide smile. Not one of those arrogant smirks, an honest smile. He doesn't see it as a challenge, he sees it as an opportunity to help someone who needs it. He nods once, firmly. "Deal!" he agrees.

    He also nods to the mention of a fog machine. But he waits, until Flint's been called away. Then he looks at Lima. "That fog machine might be useful for getting Sombra's tranceiver on board," he notes. "See, I don't want to destroy the tranceiver, so I'm thinking I better just throw MYSELF over there, break out te glass in a porthole, and then toss the tranceiver over. But if I do that, I'll need to concentrate, otherwise I'll, well... drop myself in the ocean. And I don't want to ruin the traceiver. So, I figure, if I was obscured by fog, I could probably get over there without a lot of trouble."

    Josuke caught part of the conversation, but it's not until Flint returns that Josuke speaks up. "Everything okay, Captain?" He looks concerned.

Sombra has posed:
    "And thank you," Sombra responds to Lyria, typing away so she can create a holographic projection with the suggested battle plan. Lima's ship, coming up from the side with the fog rolling in. The Walrus is coming from the other side.

    While Flint heads outside, Sombra remains inside the tent and continues working on the plan, plotting in all the people who are part of this operation. "Let me know if you have any suggestions, if you know what you would be best suited for..." Let her plot in the details, her fingers dance through the air as she types quickly. "And yeah, I would prefer if you didn't destroy my translocator.

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla listens to her counsel of expert opinion on this one. That's why she asked in the first place. Given those assembled here, she can't help but find it difficult to imagine the convoy putting up much of a real fight, even fully aware that kind of thinking can be dangerous. "Very well. Taketh all the time thou need. I shalt concern mineself less with individual arrangements if all of thee hath confidence in thine own methods of traversing the fleet. I am certain thou shalt be vigilant for the difficulties of others as well."

    "As for mineself, I believeth the approach quite obvious. Whilst the men and escort art busy grappling with our multiple angles of attack, I shalt approach the Urca unknown and pierce as many decks down as I am able before they realize mine presence. I maketh no promises as to how I shalt accomplish such. I shalt leaveth a trail of bodies if I must."

    There isn't a lot of room for conversation before the disruption happens outside. Giving Flint a few moments to assert captain's authority, Priscilla pushes up the flap on the tent, and looks at him a little more seriously. "Is everything quite alright, Captain?" then she looks to Pavo. "Perhaps one of thine crew wouldst be willing to overtake cooking duties for the time being, if it wouldst prevent further interruptions."

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     Sickness isn't something that Septette can have any kind of visceral sympathy for, but she still winces at the conversation outside. If even half the people who ate that pig get sick, then there are going to be serious repercussions for combat efficacy tomorrow- potentially disastrous ones, depending on how severe the illness is.

     She'd probably be more worried by that prospect if she didn't earnestly believe the Elites here could carry the mission by themselves.

     "Mr. Josuke, now might be a good time for you to demonstrate your skills," she volunteers cheerfully. "Can you punch foodborne illness out of someone prophylactically? If so, that could considerably aid our efforts. I'm sure someone could round up everyone who's tried the pork if you can offer them a cure."

     Then, turning her attention to Sombra: "My current strategy is to jump from Lima's craft as it flies near one of the escorts. Depending on whether an immediate or delayed assault is needed, I can either land on it and punch through a few decks, or fall in the water nearby and use an artificial glacier to surface when the trap is set. From there, I'll focus on disabling the cannons or slagging their ammunition, whichever is more practical. Afterwards, depending on the state of the rest of the fleet, I shall either self-extract via teleportation or find a way to make it to another ship and repeat the process."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Also audible from downwind: "Nobody told Floran there wasss raw meat!" She sounds excited, and seems left out. They will not have to wait long for the undercooked pig to get dealt with.

    Okay, so, sometimes they're not all business. Anyway, Pavo makes a handwaving gesture as she follows outside. "If Albert cooks it, it'll be nothin' but rations. Moonfin's a vegetarian, the kind of diet that be practically forbidden among this lot. Biteblade -- ye heard her opinion, harhar. But Seft and George, now they could manage, I'm betting." She gives a confident nod. "If that'll be a better use of 'em, aye, 'tis a duty they'll take!"

    But, eh, Silver's probably better at it if he's /trying/. George knows Cliche American Food and Seft's meals are basically medieval, you know, something local would /probably/ be better. Or at least someone with dedicated expertise. But she'll certainly bring them in if they're wanted.

    While they're out, she takes a glance at the thoughtful-looking shaggier sort of pirate. She squints, as if trying to decode something about him in a puzzle, and stays a while to watch things a bit too, before she heads back into the tent and continue following up on all this business.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason takes note of the Captain's intrest and nods sligghly back as the group talks for a moment and then Mr. Silver has called for some help with the Captain. She thinks she should likely give them a few heads up about ways to keep food safer then again? It's clear the crew of the walrus have taken to the multiverse pretty well so they likely know but either way griping about a food is a thing that happens with sailors She alos looks back to Sombra grinning a bit.

Sombra has posed:
    More info is put in, either of Septette's strategies could work. "If we can sneak up, then stay in the water..." Sombra muses, tapping one nail against her lower lip. As Pavo enters the hacker looks at her, arching an eyebrow. "So what do you think you and the rest of the Flotilla can do, amiga?" They are rather diverse. "Maybe George could swing over in buckaneer style or something..." That would be a sight. But yes, the Flotilla are diverse, so they could do it in many possible ways.

Captain Flint has posed:
When Flint returns, he does take a moment to explain. "No need to worry," he says, attempting to allay the concerns of Josuke and Priscilla. "That will be the only interruption of the evening, I assure you."

     His first instinct is to downplay this little incident. If the crew starts to believe Silver is a bad cook, they'll start to wonder why he's being kept around. It's best to keep those kind of questions at a bare minimum, and to do that, he'll need to... steer the conversation a certain way. "If I might beg everyone's patience for a few moments more, however, Septette raises an excellent point." He pauses, or pretends to. How's he going to cure the men without it getting back to Silver? He'll need someone he can trust, someone inside who already knows about the balancing act he's running. "I'll have Gates gather the men affected once our meeting is concluded. He's the quartermaster--the voice of the crew. The men trust him, even if they'll be leery of your... particular talents, Mr. Higashikata. Understand the infamous 'Salem Witch Trials' as many worlds call them happened only twenty some years ago on this one."

     "But, the less said about that, the better," he says. There's also the matter of the Flotilla doing the cooking. It'd probably be better than Silver's work, but if that happens there's a risk some of the more devious crewmates will figure out Silver's ineptitude. What's a convincing lie he can tell to cover his tracks here? Ah. "I don't think it will be necessary to replace him outright--Mr. Silver's talents are simply a bit at odds with the cuisine my men are used to. The last vessel he sailed on was a merchantman--there wasn't an opportunity to cook out of doors, as there was no need to avoid legitimate ports. I've sent him to the Walrus to retrieve another pig, purely as an olive branch to the men." He adds a sigh to the performance. "It's been difficult for Mr. Silver to adjust," he says. "George and Seft, was it, Captain Pavo?" He makes a mental note of the names. "If they wouldn't mind giving him some culinary advice at some point, I'm sure he'd appreciate it. I can't have a cook passing out undercooked meat. Just... make sure they do so away from the men. Mr. Silver is a new addition to our crew, and I wouldn't want to alienate him." It's a pretty compationate notion for someone who minutes earlier instructed the very same chef to 'do exactly as I say.' "Perhaps they might accompany him on the launch and have a talk before returning to shore?"

     Flint waves a hand to dismiss his own idea. "In any case, the plan, as I'm sure you're all waiting to hear." he says. Flint spends the remainder of the meeting discussing strategy with the other Elites. They have a suspected location where the Urca will take on water--a long stretch of island that the treasure galleon will likely use to conceal itself from view of vessels approaching from the West Indies.

     The Walrus will approach in view of the Urca and her escorts, flying the Spanish flag. The Coma Navaja, meanwhile, will approach (with fog machine to be used at Captain Ultimos' discretion), raise the black, and fire shots across the Walrus' bow to draw the attention of the escorts. With luck, and with a surprise attack from Captain Pavo, Flint suspects they'll be able to pick off the escorts before the Urca can get underway or join the battle. He does discuss some fleet tactics with Pavo and Lima in the event of other outcomes.

Captain Flint has posed:
He's put a lot of thought into this hunt--and the way his eyes shine in the moonlight, the intense stares he gives when he asks others for their input? It's almost as if one can see tangible desire within. More than desire--ambition? Nevertheless, the conversation turns from naval strategy to boarding tactics, and Flint allows the Elites who've chosen to serve in that role to discuss teamwork, who will go on which ship, and so on. Eventually, though, the captain has to retire. He makes his farewells and heads for the launches to get his night's sleep aboard the Walrus, taking his maps and books with him.

     As Flint gradually becomes smaller and smaller on the horizon, another figure becomes larger. A pirate with a goatee, a wooden pipe, and shaggy brown, medium length hair approaches Flint's tent.

     He takes a pull of his pipe. "You the ones Flint's hired for the Urca chase?" He smiles smugly, knowing the question is pretty self-evident given the drastic differences in equipment and attire, even between the men and the Elites--to say nothing of the differences between Elites. "I know it's late, but I was hoping to have a word with the lot of you."

     In the background noise, Hal Gates' grizzled baritone is heard rousing pirates in search of anyone with 'the shits' as the earlier fellow called it. He's not mentioning Silver--but his bedside manner is hardly warm.

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    At Priscilla's mention of the food troubles, Josuke blinks. "So that's what's going on?" he asks. And then Septette mentions punching the food poisoning out of someone? "Well... I've never really tried to heal an illness," Josuke notes. "I could probably fix the damage and inflammation, though." He doesn't mention that this might require him to punch THROUGH the affected people. Because, well... he'll just fix it right after, so what's the big deal?

    Josuke's eye twitches a bit at the various descriptions of the Flotilla's cooking abilities. Far less objectionable is George's skills, but... "...Maybe if they all work together, including the cook in there now, they can come up with something that works?" he suggests.

    Flint's mention of Josuke's abilities and the time period gets a wince. "Oh. I forgot about that. And it won't be any better if they can see Crazy Diamond, either, will it? Because then they'll think I'm summoning a demon, or I'm possessed or something."

    Though despite himself... that gets a bit of a grim smirk. It's ironic. That's what Jotaro thought, too, when he got his Stand at first -- that he was possessed by an evil spirit. Nonetheless, Josuke offers, "I'll still fix them up, if I can. Can't have them being sick during the mission." Still, Flint has more to say, and Josuke listens. He nods at the idea of George and Seft giving culinary advice away from the rest of the crew. "Oh, that's a good idea," he notes.

    He listens to the plan, and then looks at Lima. "It might be better if I come in with you guys, particularly if you're going to be using the fog machine. I need some cover, just for a little bit, to get Sombra's tranceiver on the other ship. I don't want to throw it right into the middle of a fight. I figure, if they're distracted with ships and everyone's on-deck, there won't be as many people below-deck, so I can throw it into the hold or something."

    As Flint retires, another figure appears, and Josuke gives a wide-eyed, confused look to him. "Um... I think so?" He's playing dumb. A chat? "Sure," Josuke replies. He's open to it. "What can we help you with, sir?" Josuke does still remain polite.

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
People really seem to like the fog machine, and Lima Ultimos grins. "Of course! Any who be wanting to board with me ship be welcome. The fog machine be full and ready for action, too." He's ignoring the pork thing, primarily, as he turns to the man with the goatee. "Aye! What be ye needing of us?"

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     The little robot listens intently to the discussions of fleet tactics, but remains remarkably quiet throughout: for all her pride in her areas of expertise, it seems she does recognize subjects where she's comparatively ignorant. Still, the way her lively eyes follow the speaker at all times gives the distinct impression that she's raptly curious.

     She bids Captain Flint a good night as he departs the tent, but before she can leave as well, the strange man with the pipe catches her attention. "I don't know what else he'd hire me for. Certainly not to stand around and look pretty," she replies with just a hint of humor in her synthetic drawl. Her head tilts slightly to one side, and glowing purple eyes brighten subtly to indicate her interest as she folds her arms behind her back.

     "You're not depriving me of sleep, stranger, but I still count my time as valuable. Speak plainly, and I shall listen."

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason listens to the captain and just wonders about the cooking, she'll have to give it a try o maybe if there really is an issue to give Mr. Silver some help with that. Either way she seems pretty chill about the issue for the moment. She doens't think much of it and it should be easy enough as they talk about the idea and she listens. She'll move to get aboard one, to do her thing and hopefully disbale that ship's crew without a fatality as one thing she learned from her mother?

You start killing the crews of the ship you hunt? They will fight to the last damn man. 5R
She looks to the man.

"Aye he hired me."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    By the end of the tactics meeting, Pavo is ready to get back to work herself. She's agreed with Josuke, though she mostly dispatches Seft to handle that, leaving George to his business. But when the man approaches the tent, she stops and waits, staring with her arms crossed. That same man, hmmm. She crosses her feathered arms and nods a quick greeting. "Aye. What manner of word, matey? I've business to handle and hours of sleep I've a need for, but time to lend an ear. Ye seemed to have an eye out for what happened earlier."

Captain Flint has posed:
The pirate chuckles, biting down on his pipe. "Sir," he says, amused by Josuke's manners. "You and Silver'll be thick as thieves, lad." He extends a hand. "Morley," says the pirate, introducing himself to Josuke and to anyone else who might care to shake hands. Even Lima, who most of Flint's crew have pointedly avoided.

     Septette and Pavo make good points, which it seems Morley takes rather well, being that he's expected to go on this hunt, too. "Oh, I think I can speak plainly enough," says Morley, grinning around his pipe. "I'd like to tell you lot a story. It's one of those stories that's relevant to current events. What do they call those? Anecdotes." He takes a moment to take another pull, and is kind enough to exhale away from the Elites. Placing the pipe between his teeth again, he continues. These fellows are rather to the point, so he gets right to it. "All I want is your attention. After I'm done, you can do anything you want with this information."

     He clears his throat and watches Flint's launch rendezvous with the Walrus. He also takes a moment to look around, just to make sure he's not being listened to, or even watched. When next he speaks, there's no mirth in his voice, no smug smirk, not a trace of joviality.

     "Some years back--before this whole Multiverse business... before we even had Billy as bo'sun, Flint had us hunting a merchant ship. The Maria Aleyne. Sephardic trade," he says, clarifying for those who may not understand: "Gold, pearls, jewels. 'More than we'd ever know what to do with,' he said." It sounds familiar, doesn't it? He offers a grave shadow of his former smile to the Elites--the similarities aren't lost on him.

     "But that's Flint's gift, isn't it? You must've noticed by now--always knows just what to say to push us harder, farther, make us all work together for the 'common cause.'" He scoffs and takes another pull of his pipe, again exhaling away from the Elites. He scowls. "We tracked that bitch for /months,/ without refitting or careening, until we finally found her."

     Morley looks out over the water, facing the Walrus but looking past it, as if his mind was somewhere else. "We lost good men taking that ship, for a haul nowhere near what Flint had promised. While I was exploring the hold, I chanced upon a cabin--and that's when I heard it."

     He faces the Elites with a grave frown. "A man and a woman begging for their lives. 'Spare us, and our fortune's yours.' For a moment, I thought our shares were gonna be worth a whole lot more." He chuckles darkly, a joyless sound. "That's when the screams began. When I watched the murderer leave, I saw him plain." He nods towards the Walrus.

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Josuke looks a little sheepish at the mention of his manners. But he doesn't bring it up further, just offers a quiet, "Eheh..." Though he gets quiet when the man -- Morley -- starts to talk. He listens intently, a frown growing as the story continues. Yes, it's familiar... and no, he doesn't like where this is going...

    Truth be told, Josuke kind of expects he'll be the only one to care about it. Not that he believes the rest of the people here are heartless, or in any way bad people. Just... most have more important things to worry about than something their employer might have done in the past.

    However... that's not true of Josuke. He doesn't like the thought that Flint might have murdered people. But at the same time, he's not stupid. While he may not have an extensive idea of what piracy really is, he's aware it's not all the romantic notion of 'adventures on the high seas', and 'yo ho ho', and 'arr, avast'. If Flint is a pirate, then he's done lost of bad things in the past.

    Nonetheless, he frowns at the story. "Was it revenge?" he asks. That's the first thing he can think of, the first reason that comes to mind as to why Flint would have done such a thing. At least, the first reason he can think of that doesn't make Flint out to be an inhuman monster. There HAS to be a reason. People don't just kill for no reason. Even animals have reasons. Monsters don't.

Sombra has posed:
    "If you could get my translocator into the hold, then that would be perfect," Sombra states, a pensive look on her face. "A bit risky if the place is locked up though and I can't get back out, however..."

    Sombra too looks at the other pirate arrives, arching an eyebrow at him as she lets the others ask the questions while she observes, still working for now. Though eventually she closes some of the screens, looking at the man. "Our time is precious... what do you want, señor?"

    The tale that Morley tells them is an interesting one, that's for sure. Sombra's expression doesn't change much however, nor does she look like this new information changes her opinion much. Murderers don't bother her, she hangs out with people like that all the time anyway. "We do know that the haul we can hope to get from this is smaller than what we were promised..." Does Flint have an ulterior motive for this? Could there be... something else on the ship he might be after instead? Or someone?

    With a swipe of her hand she brings up a screen that she begins scrolling through...

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     It's difficult to tell exactly what transpires inside Septette's artificial mind, but outwardly, her expression is of a similarly worried bent to Josuke's... albeit for more abstract reasons. Participating in this operation is worth her time because it can help get the Flotilla back on its feet, and because it will likely cost fewer lives with her benign intervention than without.

     This new information threatens to change the known unknowns of that calculation, throwing her decision into doubt. If anything can eat at her mechanical heart, it's lacking a clear path forward- these doubts must be resolved, one way or another, at the earliest possible opportunity.

     She gives a quick, but meaningful glance towards Sombra and the Captains before turning her attention back towards the man with the pipe. "You are one of Captain Flint's crew, correct? Why tell us this? Many Elites do not take kindly to being trifled with in such a fashion- do you have ambitions of your own, hoping that someone will take revenge on the Captain for such a deception?" Her tone isn't doubtful, but still probing. She needs more information before proceeding.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Pavo looks questioningly at Morley. She speaks tensely. "You've a meaning to tell us yer cap'n has an agenda besides profit." She says, tensely. "A man with somethin' to gain from big promises without big payoffs. So tell me what ye did find in that haul. Who -- what -- all was aboard that? I've a harsh feeling for being /cheated/." She spits when she says the word, like it's a dirty one. A thief and a plunderer though she may be, she abhors the idea of losing the value of a promise as much as she abhors the idea of losing, well, any kind of value really.

    "I've no care what a man does for profit. If it's murder, I've even less. But if it's not for profit and I'm being used, I've some trouble with it." She scowls, as much as a beak can let someone scowl. She takes issue with this, but not in the way others might, an ethical and moral way. She's more concerned with how this is going to be affecting her bottom line. She's sinking an awful lot of resources into this operation...

Lima Ultimos (945) has posed:
As the accusations are levied about Flint, Lima Ultimos paces, frowning. As everyone starts getting different views on it, especially Pavo's, Lima Ultimos raises a hand. "Now, let us be holding on here! While we be not ratting out Morley here, we be needing to know Flint's side of the story, aye. We cannot just say he's guilty and is betraying us! He may be having a motive, but what if he be meaning to help us get rich as well? And if we be in on his motive, we can help him carry it out easily, and he in turn be paying us, aye? We should be figuring out a way to talk to him about this, I be thinking."

There's a grin at the end, as Lima Ultimos seems to think he's the smartest person there.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is haning back for a moment she tilts her head and she does seem to think about he does seem to be quite pale now at this tale if it's true? this could be a very bad state she's in her family has engaged in Piracy they are not saints but something like that? Okay this could come back to bite the whole op on the ass but this is also one man talking about it there was not proof at least yet. It is something to think about and she has to wonder for a moment. Maybe since they looked up this one ship they are after? They might have cause to look up a few things at large too to get a better idea.

Captain Flint has posed:
"That's exactly what I'm meaning to tell you," says Morley to Pavo. "That's what I'm meaning to tell all of you--Flint always has an agenda, and I can prove it. See, when this all first happened, I was pretty much like your friend here." He gestures towards Josuke, using the young man's troubled expression as an example. "Doesn't sit right with you, does it boy? Well, the next day I told Gates."

     Morley pauses. "He was less than receptive. 'Two less rich bastards in the world,' he said. At the time I took his point. But the next time we're ashore, I see this woman, waiting for him. The Barlow Woman."

     The Elites gathered can practically hear the capital letters--clearly this woman is some sort of myth, or a bogeyman of some sort to Morley. Perhaps even to the rest of the crew, the way he says it. "Now, the boys thought she was just some fancy bit of Puritan tail, but when I saw Flint walk up to her, two words left his lips: 'They're dead.' Hunting the Maria Aleyne was never about money. It was an execution."

     "All those men we lost taking that ship, they died so that Flint could settle some personal vendetta for her. You watch--good men will die on this hunt. Might even be one of you, dead for some hidden agenda. The Barlow Woman's agenda."

     Morley takes a long, perhaps soothing pull on his pipe if his expression is any indication. "You want my angle?" he asks, leveling his gaze at Septette. "I'm tired of losing friends to that man. Go and ask him his side of the story--ask him about Singleton, too, while you're at it," he says to Lima. "Whatever you do, don't get roped into his bullshit like Billy has." He takes another pull, sighing as blue-grey smoke escapes him. "That's all I have for you."

Josuke Higashikata (1119) has posed:
    Josuke is actually surprised. There ARE actually concerns that Flint may have done something. But they do bring up good points -- if Flint's cheating them, he could be using them to fulfill an agenda, and have no real intention of paying them. In fact, he might actually betray them, and that might mean he could actually try to kill them! And with the new weapons from the Flotilla, that could even make it easier...

    But Lima has a point. Josuke nods. "I'm interested to hear his side of it too. I don't want to believe he just randomly murdered people. But if we just go asking him, he might figure out that Morley told us, yeah," he agrees. "But I can't see how it would come up in conversation otherwise..."

    The troubled expression does not ease from Josuke's face as Morley continues his tale. Believe it or not, Josuke can understand this a little better -- if Flint's doing it for someone else, that kind of humanizes him a little more in Josuke's eyes. Then again, he doesn't believe in witches, and Flint always seems in control enough of his own faculties, mentally speaking.

    Looking around at the group, "...I can go talk to him alone, if you guys want. That way he won't get upset at any of you guys, just at me. I can go ask him what he really wants out of this." He's got to go see if he can help the crewmen with the upset stomachs anyway...

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason thinks she seesw where this is going and tlts her head abit. "So your saying we might not be on a job to make booty but on some other op. I don't mind other work I just like the contract to be upfront. Pulling a fast one like that. Deep six me we we need think onthis..." She will certainly be on her guard after all here.

Septette Arcubielle (632) has posed:
     Septette's head dips slowly, her metal ear-fins drooping to near-horizontal to convey her solemnity. Even so, her purple eyes blaze all the brighter with a sickly artificial glow that embodies the unpleasant harshness of a fluorescent's glare. That smoldering look carries a kind of tightly restrained determination that mere human expressiveness alone could not hope to convey- a fairly withering effect, were it to be directed at any unfortunate soul in particular.

     There are a number of somewhat benign explanations, none of which she's entirely willing to discard yet... but her mind is already processing what to do in the worst, and most likely, scenario.

     Revenge. Revenge is a funny notion. One might naively think that, to an emotionless and rational actor, revenge has no place. But if executed swiftly enough, and consistently enough, and thoroughly enough... it can be very, very good at convincing others that you are not someone to be fucked with. And in some scenarios, the benefit of broadcasting that one is willing to perpetrate justified revenge can exceed the cost of exacting it.

     "No," she interrupts Josuke, "I ought to accompany you." Her tone, in jarring contrast to her nonverbal demeanor, is silky-smooth and soft. "This tongue of mine can honey words as nicely as any other, and I don't wish you to bear that burden alone."

     And if it comes to threats of violence, well... she can carry that tune herself.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Pavo thinks this over with an incredibly contemplative look. Honestly, she doesn't often think things over in such great and intense detail. Having to ponder all this in such great detail and such great intensity is something that she's not done often, and it leaves her on a backfoot. "Aye... Aye, ye shall have us thinkin' on this a while. We'll not be used for some scheme that's sour about a raid gone bad, but I'll not be cheated of plunder either."

    She shakes her head. "The moment I see an empty chest or a full one, 'tis the moment I'll know what to do." She mutters, frustration seeping into her voice. "The only thing that matters, no question at all. If the Barlow Woman has a hand in this, I'll get a cut one way or another, one kind or another." She adjusts her coat with a dramatic flare, then strides back towards the little drydock. She'll operate with loyalty! But she's on guard here.