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Marigold	ETRURIA, LEVANI PORT      On Etruria's western coast.      It's cliche for it to rain during goodbyes. The weather doesn't care about cliches, though.      Your first glimpse of Etruria (unless you've been following the caravan's land trek) is just enough like Ostia to give a sense of world-standard, and just different enough to underscore cultural distinctions. There's the same pale stone preferred for walls and streets, but while Lycians leave theirs rough-cut and accessorize with regional colors, in Etruria it's all smoothed and often etched with swooping abstract patterns. The occasional passerby is often clad in warmer cotton, or what might be silks, over Lycia's humidity-conscious linens, and bright earth-tones and whites are the vogue.      If you take the long route through town from the outskirts warpgate, you might even spot a little colosseum-like amphitheater.      A light drizzle patters on the inlet's wooden docks and trickles in thin threads off nearby rooftops, but light streams down too, permitted by the gaps between the splotchy clouds. It all makes for a subdued noonday gloom; not quite wet and chilly enough that you'd want an umbrella, but enough to softly discourage going outdoors. The streets are appropriately near-barren...      Except, of course, for Roy's group and their hired sailors, loading cargo onto a sleek three-masted caravel. Roy himself stands on the dock next to a somewhat-too-big trunk, mustering the strength to carry it under the guise of saying goodbyes.      "I really am sorry. I tried to tell Chancellor Roartz that we could spare our own troops for this, but..." says Cecilia, sodden-haired, from her ever-present horse. "Please, don't be. If putting down these pirates helps Etruria against Bern, then it's Lycia's business too." "Ah, excuse me," says Merlinus the seneschal, leaning in to include himself, "but did you say 'chancellor', Miss Cecilia? Isn't an international matter like this a concern of the king?"      "Ah... yes. I'm sorry. I've forgotten it's not common knowledge. Ever since the death of his son, King Mordred has been in a haze. His advisors run things in his stead." She smiles apologetically. Guinivere and Merlinus trade a look, but neither says anything. "Oh," says Roy, reaching his own conclusions. "So when you came to Ostia's aid..." "It was the chancellors who I acted in defiance of, yes."      Melady, who despite her envy of Nonon is quite a respectable size, holds the umbrella for Guinivere and Elen, neither of whom are packed to go. Her wyvern Tryffin lurks nearby. Dieck's boys are already aboard, but the man himself is helping Shanna wrangle her pegasus up the ramp, with Sue coaxing her specialized pony up shortly behind. Nobody else's horses are coming along; it must be simpler just to buy new ones.      Apart from them, a blue-haired figure wears a dark cloak and hides at the end of the pier, hoping to avoid notice for the moment. Rutger, continuing their trend of looking slightly more gorgeous each time despite the drizzle, is leaning over the caravel's rear railing and waves at Lilian on the dock. Are they doing something new with their skincare?      And after a minute, Lucius arrives on horseback, much to Chad and Lugh's celebration- they must have been separated for a little while, and rush into his arms as soon as he dismounts. He nearly drops the heavy tomes he was carrying, but laughs good-naturedly. "Oh! Ahaha, alright... I love you too."
Alucard	Alucard has been a presence in Ostia, doing his best to help finish the cleanup. Once it was done, he has been bumming around the town, staying at inns of various qualities and taking in the local culture. And wine. Lots of wine. Trevor would be proud of him, he was in one single bar fight, though it wasn't much of a fight. In a dive tavern, he was minding his own business, enjoying the coarse thrum of humanity, when a drunken man began to insult him. As a man of nigh eternal patience, he was ignored. And ignored. Until a punch was thrown, and the man was tossed bodily into the street with one hand. And Alucard didn't spill a drop of his drink. Now, though, the dhampir stands on the dock, smelling the sea air and enjoying the drizzle and gloom. It reminds him of home a little. In a good, nostalgic way. A way that doesn't make him think about his problems. His sword is shoved through his belt, and a duffel bag is slung over his shoulder. It seems he's packed light. Though the clink of bottles in there says what his priority is. He smiles slightly at Roy's struggle and approaches. "Sir Roy," he asks quietly. "May I give you a hand with your luggage?"
Flamel Parsons	Flamel claps his hands together eagerly. "You know, if the king's going through a lot of grief, I could always help out there too! I know we've only just gotten this alliance off the ground, but once it's in full swing, feel free to give me a call. I'm great at dealing with grief, trauma, despair, and all kinds of dysfunctional attachment to the departed. Though, I know we shouldn't really get into that so early. Maybe once I've earned the trust, though!" His bright positivity is, as ever, about as overwhelming as his insistent over-sharing.     "And speaking of attachment to the departed!" He smiles and does a goofy little walk for a few steps on the way to Lucius's arrival, happily regarding the kids. "Hey! Welcome back! Don't need luggage help, right?" It's an offer, but one that presumes Lucius has it all handled and doesn't need all the telekinesis. "Got those in town? I've been *hoping* to dig into some decent history and research, what'd you pick up?"
Khosa	Khosa doesn't need to be here. She's never been to this world before and has no personal obligations, promises, or friends in the area. She could have just stayed home and been completely in the right to do so. But she'd wanted to visit Ostia ever since she'd heard about it and their problems - it was something she could see herself helping with and she wouldn't be the only Paladin doing so. Plus, she wanted to see the sea. She didn't really believe that anyone had that much water in one place, even after she'd seen rivers and lakes. Plus, she's afraid of the water - and Khosa learned long ago that the best thing to do with something you're afraid of is punch it. Lacking the ability to punch the ocean and have it take notice, she'll settle for confronting it. What do you bring on a trip like this? Khosa wasn't quite sure; she'd been on skimmers before, but they beach at night, and in any case the Sea of Silt wasn't the same as this. Nor did she know, precisely, what they were going to run into on the far side or how much. She brought a backpack, a big one that bears a strong resemblance in shape to a camping backpack, though hers is apparently made of leather and hide, with bone buttons or carved toggles to tie thongs to. The bag is very full, but she carries it like it weighs nothing. Khosa herself is a dark-skinned, tall, powerfully built woman, with a point to her ear and a heavy brow that suggests she's not quite human. She is wearing a pair of blousy pants, sandals, a short open vest over a chest wrap, and a big grin - because she is out in the rain, and at least a couple times she spread her arms wide as if to catch it. It's still so strange to her, to see rain this steady, but that's nothing compared to the sea; as soon as she sees it, she strides forward, introductions forgotten before she made them, to stare wide-eyed at it. "Shit. I thought it *wasn't* going to be quite that big!" Her eyes eventually slide from the water (water everywhere, and only some of it to drink) to the ship. In some ways it looks like a skimmer. In other ways it really, really doesn't. Her gaze lingers at the waterline, trying to figure out where its wheels are. Khosa gives up after about twenty seconds of that to look at the people, instead. She's looking for someone in particular, and she finds them: Roy, who she knows is in charge. "Lord Roy," she says, trying to gather her professionalism now that she's already thrown it away to accept the rain and stare at the ship. "My name is Khosa. I'm with the same group as some of the others; thought I'd like to see somewhere new, meet new people, and maybe help out if I could. Just so you know who's coming on your boat, if you'll have me along for the ride. Don't worry, I'm useful." That with another less-professional but more-honest grin. She gives something halfway between a salute and a bow, a hand clasped up near her shoulder as she steps back, not to bother him more. She shoots a glance at Flamel who she hears to one side, but says nothing.
Aidan Proudpick	Today is a day for new experiences. Aidan has been to a lot of beaches, sure. He's seen a few cliffs. But to ride on the ocean? The outfit for today is a thick wool set of shirt and breeches, with an oiled cloak over it. A bit warm, but it'll keep Aidan from getting soaked enough to trigger WET SQUIRREL SMELL. A canvas duffel bag hoisted in one arm rattles with mostly food for the trip, as well as a host of thrift store clothes and books. The gloom of the clouds and drizzle aren't enough to put a dent in Aidan's eagerness, bouncing on his toes eagerly. "If putting down these pirates helps Etruria against Bern, then it's Lycia's business too." "Pirates too? Hah, that'll make Kale jealous." Aidan moves up with Roy, only to take on the somber tone as the conversation turns towards the morbid. "Plentiful winds to the King, then. But help is help!" He smiles at Cecilia, then nods at Roy, getting on the other side with Alucard to help him. Rather than tempt fate with his lanky build, Aidan breathes out a wisp of magic, letting the white trail down and grasp one of the handles. One ear flick. A turn towards Alucard as he hears the sound of numerous bottles, eyes locking in. A doom for Alucard. He is within Aidan's aggro circle. Targeted, locked on. A warm smile spreads on his face, the beginning of a week trying to keep Alucard from drinking too much. "I bet you have a lot of great stories!"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine does not really know how to dress for sea travel. So she's here in her usual work outfit, platform boots and all. She's accompanied by a maidservant whose face is... complicated. It's difficult to perceive directly, and harder still to remember, but when you make a concerted effort to pay attention you could almost swear she doesn't have a face at all, only a flat expanse of pale skin. The maid carries a large standing mirror in both hands, apparently the only thing Madeleine has bothered to pack. Those who've been to her sanctuary know this is how she accesses that place, so presumably she's expecting to lurk in her manor whenever she tires of shipboard life.     "I've been *hoping* to dig into some decent history and research, what'd you pick up?"     The huntress slows, then stops, loitering just outside 'part of the conversation' range but well within earshot of Flamel, Lucius, and the kids. Her maidservant continues forward, apparently able to see just fine, and waits at the ramp for Sue and the others to continue aboard.     Then: the clomp-clomp of hooves storming down a cobbled avenue. Has someone's horse gone loose? No, it's just Torrie, hustling to keep up with Madeleine. "Oh boy, I've never been on a real ship! Used to see 'em all the time, you know, but they never let me aboard. Something about youths and maidens... Oh, hi Father Lucius! Whatcha talkin' about?" Madeleine, her cover fully blown, steps forward and sighs. "Sorry boss, I saw these jam buns in a bakery window and couldn't help myself." The minotaur holds up a large paper sack stained with flour and sugar. She opens the bag, extending it in hand to offer pastries to the impromptu gathering.
Odette Raskins	Nausea medication? Check. Mixing bottles? Check. Cleaning and sanitizing solution? Check. Tools? Check. Snacks? Check. Extra changes of clothes? Check. Big book of learning? Of course that's a check. Everything Odette might possibly need and then some for the weeklong ride is all crammed into a heavy luggage case being dragged behind her,  its hard plasticky surface warding off the drizzle far more readily than the white jacket she has on. She's packed her usual uniform into the duffel bag she's wearing, but knowing that this is going to be a long ride, there's really no sense coming here in something less comfortable when she doesn't need to. Greeting Roy and company with an eager wave, Odette adjusts her hold on the duffel bag and sets her oversized luggage upright while giggling lightly at Roy's own oversized trunk. "Hi, roy! I-I'm starting to think we might have overpacked a bit for this... We'll still be able to resupply once we're docked over there, right?" She asks while stepping aside to give Alucard more room for his offer. She stares at his for several moments, too, like she's trying to figure something out. Flamel's positivity distracts her from staring too long, though, and he even gets a light giggle from her despite how overwhelming that all might be. She at least has enough sense to clear her throat lightly afterwards, though, considering the gravity of why he said what he did moments ago. "Those chancellors... Um. Should we be worried about them, Lady Cecilia? Considering the..." Odette recalls just how many betrayals there have been already, and she jumps a bit once she realizes she might be getting too cynical about that. "Ah... I-I mean, I'm hoping it'll be okay! I.. Um. We'll be okay, with everyone here." She manages an awkward smile at that, fidgeting a bit before distracting herself again by shuffling back over to Alucard and holding out a tube of sunscreen. Whether he takes her up on that offer or she ends up putting it away after another awkward moment, she soon finds herself wandering of towards Lucius as he gets swarmed by Chad and Lugh. As expected, her face brightens considerably, and she waves quickly while stepping over to offer help with the tomes. "H-hi, Father! Ready for the trip? Um... Have you ever been on a trip this long? I've packed extra stuff in case anyone starts getting pukey, and I can even put together some more if we really need it, but..." She bites her lip, fidgets a bit as she glances at the tomes, then looks off to the side with just a smidge of inwards-facing frustration. "... Should it be taking this long for me to get it?"
Angela	Disciplinary once more joins an adventure where they have to get on a boat. This time with bonus Tennant! And minus like half the team from the battle against the Queen. "YOOOOOO!" Nonon shouts. "GOIN' ON A BOAT, SAILIN' LIKE A BOSS." "You've been more shouty than normal," Shajo smiles. "Must be thrilled to be back on the field." Nonon says, "Yeah!! Oh, hey, Flamel. What up brainiac." She gives Flamel a headpat with one hand and a big grin. "How's Parker and Summer Camp goin'? She's quite the handful over here, GA HA HA, she didn't steal anything important did she?" "I'm sure she didn't-- ... Nothing irreplaceable anyway, I mean, we would've heard about it if she got kicked out or something," Shajo adds. Tennant approaches Alucard with Ceri, "Heyyy if it isn't Mr. Blood Fiend (Half)! Hadn't seen you around in a minute, you doing good my good manpire?" Tennant glances around and then leans in to Alucard, "Have you ever seen Dracula: Dead and Loving It? Is that offensive to like? I think it was a pretty good piece of multiversal media, love how the blood sucking is done up like a soda and the 'where to stand' gag--hilarious! But I thought, well, maybe it's rude, maybe we could watch it together and you could tell me about which comic truths are mere exagerations on what is there and which are just insults? I don't imagine it's based on reality but--"
Dysnomia	When the rest of the elites arrive, Dysnomia is grumbling. Like always.     She's in the middle of Roy's forces, carrying a crate of supplies over her shoulder, telling anyone who'd listen it's because, "Sitting in this barren town is too dull to bear." She complained about the pace of primitive sailing ships. She complained about the lack of inertial dampeners (until she saw the blank looks of people who had no idea what she was talking about), she complained about being 'dragged off' to fight pirates in a remote corner of another nation. She complained at the pace of someone else, as she took a burden they were struggling with off their hands.     No one had asked her to do any of it, but she always had a selfish sounding excuse for why she'd busied herself with it.     They're only spared her complaints (and help) when Melady and her wyvern catches her eye. She's breaks away from the work, walking up to Triffin, stopping just a little out of reach of their claws. "...It's funny." She said, eventually, after a long pause. "I this is the first time I've seen a wyvern at rest like this."     "It's almost cute." Dysnomia admitted, grudgingly.
Blemishine	Amid the drizzling rainfall, one familiar knight hasn't seen fit to change her 'work' outfit at all; flecks of water flow down the contours of her white armor, mildly soak into the fur lining of her voluminous cloak, and flatten her otherwise fluffy golden hair down to the top of her head. Her tail has found refuge beneath aforementioned voluminous cloak, leaving it relatively dry - but she doesn't seem to mind the weather one bit.     Rather, her head is slightly tilted upwards at the sky, absorbing the atmosphere. Goodbyes in this sort of setting /are/ cliche... but it'll hardly be a permanent one. Thus, the light smile on her face. Well, that and because she's confident Lycia will be alright as it can be, for the time being. Between that and her efforts at helping tend to Dysnomia actually bearing fruit, she's hopefuly for the immediate future.     Etruria will be their chance to dig further into the truth of things. If assisting with one of their issues firsthand will give them more trust to that end, she's perfectly fine lending her aid. Not that she wouldn't have regardless. Roy is right about that!     Opting to hop on board after most of the others have already handled their preparations, Blemishine is in a good position, especially with her keen attention to detail, to glance further down the pier; at the blue-haired figure obscured in their cloak and hiding away from the others. With a tilt of her head, and a moment's consideration...     ...she turns on her heel and casually strolls down the length of the pier, placing herself just within speaking range of our mystery person. Her eyes are set out on the sea rather than them, making it seem to anyone from afar as her just walking along solo and taking in the sights as she pipes up conversationally, "If one really wanted to spy from afar... I can think of a few better places to do it than here, you know. Hmhm~."
Lilian Rook	Rainy goodbyes are for sad forever-farewells. It should be sunny. Because the trip will be nice, and Etruria will be fine, and everyone will make it back. Lilian has internalized the outrageous desire to the point of not particularly questioning it, so her annoyance is reflexive rather than wishful. So--     'Ah... yes. I'm sorry. I've forgotten it's not common knowledge. Ever since the death of his son, King Mordred has been in a haze. His advisors run things in his stead.'                 -----[stop]-----     "Fucking-- Come onnnn! Be normal for once!"                 -----[start]-----     Lilian waves to Rutger upon arriving, most easily done from a distance, then hefts a little shopping bag as if that means something. The master swordsman bestie alliance continues. Unfortunately, she stands out from all the cool sword-wielding men at the docks by virtue of her having brought an umbrella for the drizzle, and now stands out as one step below Guinivere, at least taking refugee in the weather being gloomy enough to justify her green cloak. The little roll-on suitcase she's brought doesn't seem sufficient for a week, but it's enough that--     "Perfect timing. I put in my PTO notice two weeks ahead of time, and you're all ready to go." Oh right. She can literally see the future. "Goodness though. Nearly a week without seeing Tamamo face to face. Or Persephony, Marc, Dylan . . ." She is just about to say Cecilia-- she visibly forms the words, and then catches herself and stops. "No, no, I've already made up my mind. I'd never forgive myself if I ran off to some suite somewhere and waited for another portal on the other side. It'd be unforgivably sheltered, missing out on this leg of the heroe's journey like that. And if it's fit for a princess, then surely nothing should be unbearable."     -----------     'Pirates too? Hah, that'll make Kale jealous.'     "Literally nothing you could possibly do would make Hearthward jealous." Lilian blurts out as autonomically as breathing. She hesitates a second, then her mouth hangs open. She glances around. Guinivere. Melady. Blemishine. Odette. Petra. Lucius. Rutger. God even Alucard. Lilian closes her mouth, then looks vaguely in Petra's direction, and says, "Well, I suppose I'll leave my swimsuit in my luggage."     Oh god Petra Lucius and Rutger. The dire urge to ask a terrifyingly important question comes up, but the words freeze in her throat.     Breathing out more stress than she's ever experienced outside of battle in this world, Lilian makes certain to actually wave to Khosa, as a fellow Paladin she hasn't really spoken to yet, exchange names and ranks, then stares at Madeleine's mirror with evident interest, and says "My my, is this really the place to bring something so pricelessly beautiful?" Equilibrium restored. "Or a mirror~?" She smiles to herself a second, eyes closed in satisfaction, then as she turns her head, looks back to emphatically make eye contact and wink at the maid like she . . . hhhhow?
Petra Soroka	It's been a while since Petra has had to concern herself with 'packing' for a trip. The multi-world responsibilities of being an Elite and having duties to Angela and Lilian means she essentially always has to make sure there's a warpgate accessible, so 'home' is rarely more than a few hours away. Sometimes she spends a night-- *usually* she spends the night somewhere besides her actual apartment, but at this point Petra just has toothbrushes and changes of clothes scattered around the multiverse, so it's lost the sense of being 'sleepovers' and now feels more like... habitual couchsurfing? That's an entirely different topic to unravel.     But today, when preparing for a week-long sailing trip, Petra has the pleasant realization that suitcases are a necessity of the past for her. Now, she's stored a week's worth of clothes, self-care and hygeine supplies, snacks, sunscreen, extra supplies for Lilian, and whatever else comes to mind in the frantic rush of having barely an hour to pack before heading out, stored as reflections in her compact mirror along with Qetra. She'd feel naked without lugging a suitcase around, but in place of it, she has a metal backpack with robotic arms on either side and Angela's face transmitted from the screen on the back. There's no actual storage inside, because it's filled with electronics, but the weight reassures her mind that she's not forgetting anything.     The Eggpack is a frequent enough feature on Petra's frame to simply be reinterpreted as fitting with whatever outfit she happens to have on-- but what she's wearing today is different enough from usual to jolt away the illusion, and seemingly knowing this, Petra has taken a step to mitigate the aesthetic clashing, whose exact nature will be described later. The reason her outfit is so unusual, is because: within the shopping district of the village in Queen Liliana's villain simulation, Petra had the realization that all of the medieval fantasy clothes for sale had been previously vetted by Lilian, and she took the chance to stock up on period-appropriate clothes that Lilian approved of.     Brown pants disappearing into knee-high leather boots are a neutral baseline for appearing 'fantasy adventurer-esque', with a loosely billowing white shirt held in place by a leather bodice and leather belts across her body, rattling with little baubles. The fabric cinches at her wrists and waist, so there's still shape to her despite the overall masculine airs of the outfit, and since it was sourced, indirectly, from Lilian's tastes, it's not only better quality than anything she typically wears, but it both works well in itself, and in context with the fashion around her.     She's extremely proud of this fact. She hasn't quite internalized how the wide neckline of her shirt, barely laced together beneath the bodice, essentially exposed her entire neck and collarbone and the tapestry of bite marks and bruises covering them. Or maybe she has, and she just shouldn't ever be taken outside again.     The effect comes together in an unprecedented way, especially standing on the coast beside the ship, that Petra looks-- like a vaguely butch lesbian heartthrob sailor. The Eggpack contributes, by having a pirate hat placed on top of it. Petra looks like a slutty renfaire pirate goon.
Petra Soroka	". . . but did you say 'chancellor', Miss Cecilia? Isn't an international matter like this a concern of the king?"     This is politics, which means Petra has no reason or interest in getting involved in it. Petra instinctually veers away from the topic as if repelled by magnetism, but then because she actually does need to talk about the goals and logistics of the trip, she ends up walking in an awkward little loop before circling back around to end up near Roy and the others anyways.     "So, what's, um, the story about the pirates? What should we know about them? And, like, what's the plan for dealing with them?" "Goodness though. Nearly a week without seeing Tamamo face to face."     Somehow, this is the first time that Petra actually considers any of the *other* ramifications of being stuck on a boat for a week, besides packing and working. Briefly, she forgot that that would mean no meeting with anybody *off* of the boat, including her own girlfriend. Petra looks faintly perturbed by this, but then Lilian's glance lingers on her for a moment, and the train of thought is lost. "Well, I suppose I'll leave my swimsuit in my luggage."     "Well... I brought mine...?" Petra isn't certain whether it'll be taken as a good or a bad thing that she did, but it's inside of her mirror if she needs it. "I mean, we're going to be going by the coast for most of the time, anyways. And, like, this world's always *way* prettier than most."     She hesitates for a few seconds, clearly dragged along by some tangential thought process that takes her a bit to work through. "... I don't want to fight pirates in a swimsuit. Are there sea monsters? Should we worry about that?"
Marigold	"May I give you a hand with your luggage?"      Roy looks from the trunk, to Alucard, and back to the trunk, with a kind of lip-biting fatalism. Unfortunately, asking has only prompted him into realizing he's looking like a laggard.      "No thank you, I've got it," he says, and instantly demonstrates how much he does not have it. He tries his best not to make a noise of terrible exertion, topples backwards the second he picks it up, and nearly falls backwards into the ocean. Cecilia catches him without even looking, hand-to-shoulder, as if she did this every day. Roy immediately looks away in embarrassment- "thanks, Cecilia"- and she smiles with something like nostalgic warmth.      Maybe Alucard and Aidan should still steady him as he totters up the ramp, though. Subtly.      "G-g-great to meet you, Lady Khosa," he pushes out while making a truly herculean effort, and then finally slams the trunk down on the deck and heaves a great sigh of relief. He's not exactly noodly, but he's certainly no Dieck either. After a bit of panting: "I'm, um, sure everyone will be glad to have you. You've heard about the disturbance with Bern, and all?" By where his eyes land, the thing he finds strangest about her (after height) is those pointy ears. It's all humans here.      "Those chancellors... Um. Should we be worried about them, Lady Cecilia?"      "You know, if the king's going through a lot of grief, I could always help out there too!"      "Well, they are meant to serve in the event of the king falling ill. There's nothing objectionable there. But Mordred was always capable. If you can find a way to help him after this..."      "Pirates too? Hah, that'll make Kale jealous."      "So, what's, um, the story about the pirates?      "I'm afraid it's nothing to be jealous of," Cecilia says to Aidan, with her usual slightly-sad smile. "You've got quite a weighty job ahead of you. The Western Isles' mines supply the entire rest of Etruria with weapons and armor. It's a suspiciously perfect place for pirates to become active, don't you think? I'm certain Bern is involved somehow. The shipments have dropped to almost nothing."      "Pardon, but... are the Western Isles really considered part of Etruria?" Guinivere asks. Cecilia winces. "They're... let's say that's a convenient fiction for everyone to maintain, Princess Guinivere." "Ah. A colony on paper only?" "Something like that. It might, after all, be for the best that we don't look like we're putting Etrurian soldiers on their soil."      While Guinivere is busy talking geopolitics, Melady looks pleasantly bored. Mia's approach jolts her out of that, and she steps aside to show off Triffin as if she were displaying a grand work of art. One hand scratches behind the beast's jowl-spikes. "Oh, isn't she precious? You know, people say wyverns are ornery, but they don't really know what they're talking about. They're as smart as dogs, and if you raise them from the egg they're just as sweet!" It seems like Mia's found the one topic Melady's cheerfully talkative on.      Triffin's tail squirms and wings lift in some kind of vague unease, but Melady's contact seems to settle it right back down again. "Look. Triffin, shake!" The beast holds out a slightly stubby, blue-scaled foreleg.
Marigold	The cloaked figure tenses up when Blemishine approaches- but, once she gets close enough to be recognized, they relax. One finger pulls back the edge of their hood, revealing a familiar face- it's Lilina, Hector's daughter! She glances around to make sure no-one else is listening, and then says: "It's not me spying you should be worried about, you know! My father's got eyes everywhere."      That tiny burst of defiance is all she's got in her, before she slumps into a pleading look. "You won't tell on me, will you?"      "And if it's fit for a princess..."      "Ah..." Guinivere and Cecilia trade looks. "I'm sorry, Lilian. It's safer if I and my retinue remain in Etruria for now. There's no further benefit to having me along, and considerable danger. But-- here." She takes a gold-lined pink handkerchief from her sleeve and foists it into Lilian's hands, then touches the fair knight's cheek. "You'll give it back to me. Let that be our promise of reunion."      Elen covers her smile. Melady doesn't even look over. This is normal Guin behavior.      "what'd you pick up?"      Father Lucius, mid-scruffling Lugh's hair, beams up at Flamel. "Oh, General Cecilia was kind enough to direct me to some of Saint Elimine's lesser-known writings. Her earlier, more practical letters haven't always been well-circulated, you know. I have found a few informative things."      He stands up from the orphan-hugpile with a little sigh, and then Odette catches his eye. "Oh, Odette... please." Hand-to-shoulder, reassuring. "You're hard on yourself, aren't you? But as the Saint teaches empathy towards everyone, she teaches empathy towards the self. Please be kind to that young woman- pointing up at her face- "who's trying her very best. Now, it's normal to take a year or more. Is there anything you're especially struggling with?"      Torrie's offered pastries break up that huddle for a moment. The two kids stare up at the minotaur for a few long seconds before remembering it's rude to, and then look at the bag instead. "Oh! But you bought them yourself. Is that really okay...?" "Take one before she changes her mind, Lugh." "Um, right!!"      Lucius, after basking in the proximal warmth of the exchange, remembers his train of thought with Flamel. "... Ah, right. Such as there was some form of dark magic that could create dragons, during the Scouring. Long since lost, of course. But if Bern's truly uncovered or reinvented it, that's most concerning. Evidently, by the end of the Scouring, these artificial dragons were almost considered the standard kind."
Alucard	Alucard is approached! Thrice! First, Tennant. He is rambled at, and Alucard is silent through it. Golden eyes, so tired, regard him without malice. With patience. "I do not know what you are speaking of, but unless it involves the True Science, fierce devotion to his wife, and towering, furious grief, I can tell you it is entirely inaccurate." He gives Tennant another long look before his attention is refocused. On Odette! She offers him a tube that he does not recognize and looks between it and her. He attempts to dial his natural intensity back a little. "I ... What is that, Miss Raskins? I am unfamiliar." He tries to smile pleasantly, but it's a little wan. He's still not fantastic at interactions that aren't formal or confrontational. Roy nearly takes a tumble, but even before Alucard's preternatural speed can get him there, Cecilia has already handled it. He gives the woman a knowing look, but he stays behind the young lord as he ascends the ramp, ready to catch him if he should tumble again. He is, after all, here to help. Aidan locks onto him via the sound of hooch. The young man's smile is warm, but Alucard's expression remains fairly flat. "My stories are ... They are either tales of better times, or of heartwrenching tragedy. Both wound me." He's so much fun.
Khosa	Khosa immediately has her attention snagged by Nonon because, perhaps, she feels a kindred spirit. Just because Khosa is trying to put her best foot forward right now... She'll have to introduce herself, she thinks, but can't help a slight quirk upward of her lips. Khosa stands out here and she knows it. She expects the look at her ears (or her brow, though perhaps not the lack of hair outside the one tail - plenty of people are mostly bald, though admittedly it's less common for women). She doesn't seem offended by it. She still doesn't explain what she is, though. At least not immediately. For a moment, Khosa looks like she's going to pick up his luggage for him - and she can, even with her own - but perhaps decides she shouldn't make a lord look weak in front of his retainers and takes a step back after a half-step forward, letting the others aid if they want instead. "I heard about at least some of it. It's a mess is what it is - I'm not trying to make it sound like nothing, but I get that much. I'm only an expert on the city-states at home," Khosa admits, "but I do get politics, and jockeying for position, and people declaring war for all sorts of reasons. I'm not eager to see that spread, is all." When Petra goes by, Khosa glances her way. She likes the outfit in theory, though the owner is not exactly the person she'd expect to wear it. (Not that she knows Petra well, but you pick up some things quickly.) "What's this about a swimsuit?" she asks, instead. "Are you supposed to bring clothes just to get in the water with?" ... "I'll pass on that!" Khosa eventually decides, though she does not bother to clarify if she means passing on getting in the water or wearing a suit when she does. Her mental image of a swimsuit is not exactly what anyone else here using the word meant by it. When Lilian makes sure to introduce herself; Khosa matches it: "I've heard of you too," she says. "Khosa, Agent of the Free City. The Templars have a lot of ranks, but I don't; I'm kind of officially unofficial. Or maybe unofficially official," she adds, consideringly. "Anyway, I speak with the City's words about law, and I'm on loan to the Paladins for anything else I can do, too. That and learning what I can about the Multiverse. It's a big project, ha ha!" she laughs. "But we've been low-contact before and we're still keeping visitors down low... as much as we can, anyway, I'm sure some people are trying to sneak in. And there might be another gate we don't know about, or isn't close enough to Tyr to guard." (It's an impossible project is what it is, to learn everything - but they can at least learn SOME things. Khosa's already learned about voting!)
Desire Stars	Ace Ukiyo is here by himself. He's come dressed for a summer cruise, wearing a loose-fitting white button up that sports a rose floral print, tucked into wine-red slacks and accented with a white leather belt. An obnoxiously packed pair of suitcases accompanies him, one resting atop the other as he pulls it along, his neatly combed hair kept from the rain by a red umbrella.      "A caravel," he notes, with his usual smug smile. "That brings me back." He brings his garishly stuffed luggage aboard, edging past Roy, Aidan and Alucard to do so without a word. I-I'm starting to think we might have overpacked a bit for this...      "Maybe you did. I only brought the essentials." He can't be serious.      Watching as Dieck helps Shanna get her pegasus squared away, "Neon sends her regards," he says. "She's taken ill, and didn't think it'd be a good idea to be on the ship with us." Odette knows that isn't the whole story--but a look from Ace discourages her from being too detailed with any chime-ins.      "If work calls during this little trip, I'll have to answer--but I'm looking forward to sailing with you all." My my, is this really the place to bring something so pricelessly beautiful?      Ace smiles at the exchange between Lilian and Madeleine. "An rud a lionas an tsuil lionann se an croi," Ace fires Lilian's way, leaning on the railing.
Angela	Angela is present on the Eggpack and seems to fidget with the pirate hat on top of the Eggpack periodically by adjusting it with the accentuator arms. She seems to be quite preoccupied with this. "You brought a swimsuit?" Angela asks. "...But we'll be traveling across an ocean on a boat I don't imagine...it would have a pool? ... I don't imagine it would be safe to go out of the boat unless it stops moving..." Nonon's ears perk up at the mention of sea monsters and catches Khosa looking at her. She turns her head and gives her a casual wave since she is a casual person. "Khosa, right?" She asks. "GA ha ha! I knew it! Khosa it is! Wow, another City called 'The City' though I guess it's actually 'The Free City' but it's similar enough to give me the giggles geh heh...!" Tennant listens to Alucard for a long moment. "Well if it's entirely inaccurate then it won't be insulting. Wanna give it a watch? Iiiiit's a laugh riot! And really speaks to class conciousness in much the same way as the original Dracula media piece--" I have never swam before, I would probably just sink like a rock," Angela says. "I suppose it is fortunately not a present concern. I could likely just walk along the seabed if it wasn't too deep but I have some concerns about growing pressure the deeper one goes--" She spots Lilian and immediately smiles. "Dame Commander. Lovely to see you as usual. I hope Tennant has not been too much of a chore to deal with but they are a capable sniper and felt their abilities could have some unique application."
Aidan Proudpick	The squirrel is excited to see everyone. Well, there are just so many people who bring an energy that rubs off on Aidan. A wave to Torrie, then Madeleine, then a wave of his hands at Torrie, "Oh! No thank you, eggs in those sorts of things. This'll be my first time in a boat too without sea monsters!" And diving into a water, drinking in the taste of blood, viscera- In four breaths. Out four breaths. This will be relaxing. There's no seamonsters. He can practice his reading. Everything will be fine. Nonon's energy makes everything better. It's a salve that can heal Aidan's mind, as when Aidan starts to feel a spiral downward, that mighty energy brings him back up. Tennant sidles up on the other side of Alucard and Aidan can't help but lean over. "Is that a romantic comedy play?" The worst thing is, Aidan is the type of person to love that sort of movie. "My stories are ... They are either tales of better times, or of heartwrenching tragedy. Both wound me." Hesitation pins Aidan's expression. First, just the DEPTHS of depression this man seems to be soaking into, the horrors of his life that he must have been going through. B, he realizes the brooding forlorn beautiful manpire SHOULD affect him, and it whizzes by his brain without a twinkle. "Well..." he hesitates. "If it would make you feel better to talk about them, I would listen, and I bet Mister Tennant would." He turns towards the sniper, further dragging Alucard into the vortex, "Or he can tell us about all the plays and movies he knows!" "Literally nothing you could possibly do would make Hearthward jealous." "Getting to fight pirates and convince them to join our side? It's exciting." "I'm afraid it's nothing to be jealous of," His smile wanes quickly as he listens intently, nodding along with the information. He tries to run that through his head. "Pirates steal and rob and live free." He scratches at his cheek, "That sound more like mercenaries than pirates," he finally says, refusing to give up on the romantic ideal of free roaming government fighting gay rogues and rebels. Aidan folds his arms, moving instinctively as Ace walks past and keeps Roy safely in that cradle of wind. "I guess if they just think money is important, it should still be a way we can bring them to our side. Or at least get them to go away." He glances over at Lilian, who he assumes has an unlimited amount of money she can throw at anything.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	The maid turns her face to Lilian's, not-staring back in answer to the question. It's uncanny.     Evidently, by the end of the Scouring, these artificial dragons were almost considered the standard kind.     "So they *did* have like, dragon printers." A pause. "You know what printers are, right? Or are all of your manuscripts illuminated? Anyway. Most of your magic uses tomes, right? But the rules were different back in the Scouring. Is it possible they used like, some artifact to do the job? Bern could've dug something up. Maybe finding it was part of the catalyst for Zephiel getting all... conquer-y. If so the question is how he found someone who can use it... let alone someone so *odd*. I mean, I guess any expert in dark magic is gonna be a weirdo, right. Heck knows the last one on Elibe was, right?"     Torrie strikes a few muscle poses for the kids. She clearly hasn't gotten bored of being a spectacle.
Dysnomia	"Look. Triffin, shake!"     Melady's exuberance was infectious. In spite of herself, that disgruntled frown Dysnomia'd tried to keep in place struggled to tilt itself upward. "You care for her a lot. I can tell." She took hold of Triffin's foreleg gently, like it was something delicate and precious. Maybe to Dysnomia, she was. "You care a great deal for her." It wasn't a question, a note of approval shining through.     "I imagine people think that way more because of their ancestors, than what they really are..." Dysnomia said. "Easy, girl. I'm not going to hurt you." She pulled back the knife of her thoughts. She reached a hand up toward Triffin, palm down, to let her examine and do with as she would. "Amazing how gentle they can be, when you take the time to understand."     "... Ah, right. Such as there was some form of dark magic that could create dragons, during the Scouring."     Lucius' words meandered to Mia's ears, and she pressed her mouth together in a line. "...I'd had some thoughts about that." Dysnomia breathed, "Since what happened at Ostia. But, I'm an amateur, and my sight isn't what it once was."
Flamel Parsons	"Was she called a Saint when she was still working in the Scouring? I really think it's so amazing that she grew so much past her name." Flamel sways and bounces a little, nodding. He doesn't explain anything about that thought... but if he's prompted: "A member of the Eight Heroes... named Elimine. What a theme! Elimine (of the) Eight! It's like she got called 'Saint Ruthlessly Destroy.' She lived up to it so much, then grew past it so much." Soooo positive. So friendly.     "I really need to find out about those artificial dragons, though. It *does* sound like that woman has managed to restore it..." He starts biting his lip. "Makes me wonder. Did the dragons have their own equivalent to the Legendary Weapons of Elibe, somehow? Because whatever this is that's making these come back... it *could* have kept itself secret. It's stealthy, or at least it definitely can be. And it's definitely creating artificial dragons the way they used to. So..."     He frowns, tapping his chin and looking over the books at a distance, as if they'll be the ones to answer him, not Lucius. "It makes me think that the dragons created at least one 'Dragon Weapon' the way that humankind created the 'Divine Weapons'. Long-lasting high-danger weapons that encode souls, minds, power like this..." He shakes his head. "I don't really know, I guess. But I feel like it's worth looking into. It'd sure explain why she's like this, if she found a 'Dragon Weapon', my telepathy wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of someone wielding something that was actively using soul-encoding like that."
Blemishine	"Oh my..." Blemishine raises a hand to her mouth in what might be exaggerated mock surprise - or maybe it's genuine? It's legitimately hard to tell, as she keeps her reaction muted, and also shares a sneaky glance around to ensure all of the others are still off and busy. "I had no idea Hector had such an informed intelligence network, even in Etruria..."     That's also difficult to tell how serious she's being, but after that, she shifts her attention back to Lilina, visibly contemplating. "You know, I have a /sneaking/ suspicion of what you might be up to... and I don't think your father would approve of this sort of thing at all." Beat.     Beat.     And then she gives Lilina a small, downright mischevious grin - and then brings pinched fingers up to her own mouth, drawing them left-to-right. Zip. "...But I think he also wouldn't have much room to talk. And neither do I. Hehe. Don't worry, my lips are sealed! I didn't see a thing."     She even pats her own chestplate, in that you-can-rely-on-me sort of way. "And I suppose it'd be awfully hard to tell you any differently. Going through all the trouble tiptoeing around like this..."
Flamel Parsons	"Those chancellors... Um. Should we be worried about them, Lady Cecilia? Considering the..."     "Don't worry! Bern are practically on the other side of the world, there's no way they've had enough time to start their realpolitk over there!" Flamel calls out, in a bright and hopeful tone. That's not true, but he'd rather keep everything stabilized around here more.     "How's Parker and Summer Camp goin'? She's quite the handful over here, GA HA HA, she didn't steal anything important did she?"     "Oh, yeah! She's been great! I'm sure she's been fine, uhhh..." Flamel quickly looks for a nametag on Nonon's suit. His brain sparks once or twice in his ears.
Odette Raskins	"Well, I suppose I'll leave my swimsuit in my luggage." "Swims...? Oh! That's... Wait." Reminded that this is, in fact, a trip out at sea, Odette glances over at Lilian and Petra briefly before turning back to her luggage. She pries one of the zippers open an inch, stares at the case straining to burst open, then closes it right back up hastily. "... I-if you want to go swimmming, I can get mine out after we figure out our sleeping arrangements? I've even got a tether to help pull us back if we start drifting out too far!" She offers with a lgihthearted chuckle, then fights with her suitcase a bit more while turning back to Cecilia. "But Mordred was always capable. If you can find a way to help him after this..." "O-of course. I'm not really a... Uh. Psychiatrist or anything like that, but I've got some stuff that's good for focus!" Another offer, another cheerful smile. It's a little more put on, though, since she knows it's a bit of a stretch for what the king might actually need. At least Flamel sounds trustworthy and on-the-ball enough to handle it! "I ... What is that, Miss Raskins? I am unfamiliar." Alucard's presence is still somewhat intimidating to Odette, and she tries to sound just a bit more formal when speaking up to him. "Oh, M-Mister Alucard! Hello. Um. This is sunscreen. I-it's for preventing sunburns, especially for people with lighter skin." She explains, trying not to draw too much attention to his skin while totally drawing attention to it. "Maybe you did. I only brought the essentials." "Th-these were essential! I mean, maybe we might not need stuff for space sickness, but..." Odette starts to pout lightly at Ace, then lets out a little huff before looking out towards the sea. "I-it could still help with ocean pressure, if anyone gets pulled down for too long. O-or scurvy! If we don't have enough balanced meals..." She might've forgotten this is only going to be a week or so, not months. "She's taken ill, and didn't think it'd be a good idea to be on the ship with us." That, meanwhile, has Odette deliberately not looking over at Dieck, Shanna, and Ace to an almost inconspicuous degree! Wait, do Dieck or Shanna even know she knows Neon? Best not to look over there, just in case she might look too suspicious/ But if she's suspicious looking suddenly not looking over at them... Odette wasn't sweating before, but she is sweating a bit now despite the drizzle cooling her off. "You'll give it back to me. Let that be our promise of reunion." Odette catches the first bit from the corner of her eye, and then she gawks by the time Guinevere touches Lilian's cheek. Her hands go over her mouth, and she really REALLY has to fight herself not to make a squeaky noise. Luckily for Odette... "Oh, Odette... please." She doesn't have to worry about making it too obvious she's staring at Lilian and Guinevere when she's busy gawking at Luciius instead. Her voice comes out as a confused squeak at first, and then she bites her lip again as he starts to reassure her. It's not the first time she's heard that, either, even if it is in a different context and tone from her conversation with Madeleine. "That's.. N-no, you're right. I-I will, Father." She giggles bashfully, unconsciously tilting her head a bit towards his hand while her expression remains vaguely distant. "It's just kind of... Frustrating, you know? I know I'm not supposed to focus on making it work, but..." Odette chuckles, lets out an anxious noise, then sighs all in quick succession while rubbing her neck. "I've been breathing better, emptying my head, feeling the world around me, but quieting it all so I can focus on the inside..."  Another anxious noise. "That's when all the thinking comes back. About how loud everything is even without anyone doing anything, about how much air there is in the vents... E-even my face weighing down on my head when I'm lying down."
Odette Raskins	Odette rubs her face lightly, then sighs again. "How did you stop those kinds of thoughts when you were learning this? And... H-how long did it take you?"
Petra Soroka	"Are you supposed to bring clothes just to get in the water with?" "You brought a swimsuit?"     Petra doesn't exactly have the theory of mind to realize that Khosa is confused from the perspective of someone from a desert world, rather than simply questioning whether it makes any sense to bring a swimsuit like Angela is. Being doubted sets her immediately on the defensive, especially due to already being on-edge on the topic of clothing, though it's mitigated by the fact that Angela is one of the people questioning her.     "Okay, like, we're *on* the water," Petra crosses her arms, a bit insecure. "I feel like it's a little, uh, irresponsible, to head out onto the water for a week, without having clothes you'd be able to get wet in. Maybe we won't have any time for stopping at the beach, or whatever, I know we're on a mission, but basically everywhere that isn't 'the boat' will need a swimsuit. Maybe we'll have to swim to shore at some point, I don't know. I'm just being prepared." "I have never swam before, I would probably just sink like a rock,"     In a moment of redemption, Petra's mind manages to not drift to the thought of Angela in a swimsuit, instead, miraculously, responding like a person. She doesn't have any luggage to carry on board, and there's no women in immediate need of Petra carrying their luggage for them, so she doesn't have a lot to do during the loading processes, instead loitering on the drizzling dockside soaking in the atmosphere.     "Well, it's just about density, isn't it? If we had a pool full of, like, mercury, or something-- like, in the facility, I mean-- you could totally go swimming. That's not something that's impossible for you. Would that be fun? I think the lava guy that I found through Bowser also sells bulk metals and stuff; mostly for fueling robot-based attacks or manufacturing architecture, but we could use it for a pool." "... I-if you want to go swimmming, I can get mine out after we figure out our sleeping arrangements? I've even got a tether to help pull us back if we start drifting out too far!"     Petra stares blankly at Odette for a few long seconds, so neutral that it seems like she might not have even heard what Odette said. After an uncomfortable stretch of probing silence, she abruptly says without any lead-up, "Oh, you're like, *super* anxious, huh. If I threw you into the water without a tether or lifejacket or anything, would you be able to get back onto the boat?"
Petra Soroka	"Getting to fight pirates and convince them to join our side? It's exciting."     "You're delusional. He's literally fucking delusional." Petra's second remark is to Cecilia, practically apologizing on Aidan's behalf, in her own particular way. She'd rarely implicitly associate herself with Aidan, despite both being offworld Elites with nearly the same role in the war, but it feels bad to just let Cecilia's opinion of the Elites as a whole be harmed by one dumb furry. "You can say things directly to his face and he'll nod and say something totally difference. So don't mind him, and we'll hope he gets eaten by sharks or something."     Circling back around to the actual topic of pirates, Petra adds, "But, yeah, pirates sabotaging your whole ass armory right after you come in to help Lycia seems like a pretty clear connection. are they, like, suspiciously well-armed, or have fucked up magic or whatever? Hired normal pirates, or, uh, soldiers posing as pirates, I mean. If we've got a clue." "You'll give it back to me. Let that be our promise of reunion."     Guinevere giving Lilian a handkerchief excites Petra in an abstract way she has no idea how to express or deal with. She just vibrates awkwardly in place, not quite looking at the exchange, but also not able to occupy herself with anything else, thoughts trapped in a catastrophic loop of overlapping incoherency that even Petra herself can't decipher. She's not *involved*. She has nothing to say or do about it. She's just stunlocked into being weird.
Lilian Rook	'Well... I brought mine...?'     Lilian looks at Petra as if she were both an understandably tragic victim and also sort of really really gross. "And you're going to wear it? In front . . ." She trails off, but it's clear where her eyes are going.     '... I don't want to fight pirates in a swimsuit.'     And yet, a subtle, percussive whisper of 'Bitch' can be heard. "But you'll fight them looking like that?" Obviously, Lilian can't be specifically distasteful of anything she put in her own simulated fantasy town, but she does kind of seem like she expected Petra to pick the closest she could to the novella cover end of the spectrum, and specifically-- "I suppose you're imagining they'll be shaken by your battle wounds?"     'thanks, Cecilia'     "Cute . . ." Lilian says, hand to her lips, immediately placing herself in her own laser sights.     'But Mordred was always capable. If you can find a way to help him after this...'     Lilian is about to start groaning about the connotation of the name 'Mordred', but visibly stops short. Probably remember the explosively asinine who's-on-first-base-style discussion about names she had with Cecilia earlier, which resulted in her being called racist.     'The Western Isles' mines supply the entire rest of Etruria with weapons and armor. It's a suspiciously perfect place for pirates to become active, don't you think?'     "I'll be surprised if Bern is already all the way there, but more surprised that they'd leap to use agent provocateurs within the ranks, when Zephiel seems so committed to overwhelming military force." Lilian says, drily.      And then Lilian catches that wince. "I see." she says, and the two words mean enough to carry everything else she has to say on the topic.     'Look. Triffin, shake!'     "Melady . . ." Lilian begins, and holds her breath. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to feel really terrible for having shot one down."     'I'm sorry, Lilian. It's safer if I and my retinue remain in Etruria for now. There's no further benefit to having me along, and considerable danger.'     A considerable degree of Lilian's remaining cheer towards the voyage is punched out of her on the spot. Her posture bar flashes red. "A-ah. That . . . Y-yes, that makes far more sense. I was . . . i-immediately, struck, upon arrival, that it would be possible for a vessel such as this to be adequate for . . . W-well I simply didn't wish to presume, by projecting my sensibilities onto a foreign ship I've only seen for the first time; but of course that would only be natural!"
Lilian Rook	'But-- here. You'll give it back to me. Let that be our promise of reunion.'     Lilian jolts at the touch on her cheek about twenty percent less than a hug from Lucius. She stares down at the handkerchief, and is robbed of the capacity to even act hopeless and ask what it's for, because of course she knows what it means, and everyone knows she knows, and so she glances hurriedly to Elen, and only becomes more confused, and then to Melady, and she's not even paying attention and oh god is this serious-- no there's no way, she's a princess and that would be a political disaster so-- oh god but she ran away and she doesn't want the throne and-- no that's stupid Guinivere is just pitying her for being so obviously mistaken about-- wait no she always thought that was funny before oh no why is she doing this now oh god oh god-- no, no, no, she's obviously honouring her as a knight, and showing that she accepts her, after Cecilia came to the wrong conclusion about being told that she can't be a knight because of her gender, so really Princess Guinivere is just being nice and thoughtful and--     "I'll be . . . back shortly. So . . . don't get into any more trouble. While I'm gone." Lilian says, on shellshocked swerving autopilot. She clears her throat, remembers to breathe, and then also remembers to put her hands away instead of just holding them out with the handkerchief still in them. "I'll rest easy knowing that Hector will do his utmost as Lord, and so I hope you'll do the same for us." There. Better.     '... Ah, right. Such as there was some form of dark magic that could create dragons, during the Scouring. Long since lost, of course. But if Bern's truly uncovered or reinvented it, that's most concerning. Evidently, by the end of the Scouring, these artificial dragons were almost considered the standard kind.'     "Beg pardon?" News like that turns Lilian's head. "The Saint's notes indicate she fought against this same sorcery before? That's--" The implicit understatement is 'not great news', carried in Lilian's gaze, but so is the iron grasp of Lilian Rook finally having something to catch hold of, and the thousand steps that will lead forward from there. "--Extremely valuable information. Until now, it may as well have been a miracle. We're fortunate to have someone as devoted as you, else we'd have likely never thought to look."     The rest is pleasant triviality. Despite that devastatingly bad news, Lilian seems bouyed by it; subtly, motively charged with something to aim towards, and thus able to channel her energy into the looming week of doing very little.     'Are you supposed to bring clothes just to get in the water with?'     "If you attempt to swim in loose, heavy clothes, they'll drag in the water, soak through and become heavy, and likely drown you."     'I've heard of you too,'     "Oh my. I hope it was somethig positive." she says, blithely. "Ring of Solstice, Immunes."     'An rud a lionas an tsuil lionann se an croi'     "How someone treats the help tells you everthing about them as a person." Lilian firmly insists, thus suggesting she was hitting on the maid with . . . no face?
Lilian Rook	'...But we'll be traveling across an ocean on a boat I don't imagine...it would have a pool? ... I don't imagine it would be safe to go out of the boat unless it stops moving...'     "Do you think I couldn't catch up? Besides, you heard the man; it'll be coastal sailing most of the way." Lilian looks away from Angela to Nonon. "Goodness she'll be a handful. This is her element. I'll hardly be able to shake her." She looks at Tennant. "And that one . . . No, they'll be fine. Don't worry about it, Angela." Lilian smiles. "I won't complain if they happen to have to make use of those abilities before we meet pirates, either." Smile. Smile smile.     'Getting to fight pirates and convince them to join our side? It's exciting.'     "Do you think Hearthward sits on his ass and does nothing while you're not looking?" Lilian replies, visibly incredulous that she's defending Kale. "Stopping pirates was literally his old job. You were the one attacking his ships. Remember?" Lilian rolls her eyes and evidently gives up. "No, I called it. You made it up."     The maid turns her face to Lilian's, not-staring back in answer to the question. It's uncanny.     Lilian gives a little fingerwiggle wave back with an exuberant smile, resting a cheek on her hand admiringly and going back to her business with a little bounce in her step, refreshed and oblivious.     'I really think it's so amazing that she grew so much past her name.'     "We should all be so fortunate. The work of being anything but what you were formed into by the world early on is half of the way to being worthy of sainthood."     'Did the dragons have their own equivalent to the Legendary Weapons of Elibe, somehow?'     "That's--" Lilian stops. "An interesting theory. Keep on that."
Angela	Nonon ... doesn't have a nametag! Though her muscles might be pretty familiar she's a very big woman and has a distinctive body shape. Then again, Flamel might know a few people like that. "Ahah, good, good!" Nonon says. "She's not a bad duck, she's just looked at the Well, you know, and nobody's the same after looking in there for long. Well...most nobody!" Angela considers Petra's words, meanwhile, and she nods a little. "If nothing else, there is hardly any harm done. It might just come in handy and you are more capable than the sort of people I was imagining swimming in the ocean." Angela's bare skin usually begins and ends with her face and hands. Angela can't really imagine herself in a swimsuit either. Every one she imagines doesn't feel ''right''. "In mercury... I hadn't thought of other chemicals. Enkephalin would probably still be dangerous but the density of enkephalin isn't that much more than water-- I could likely endure lava, at least for a time, but I am not certain it would be enjoyable enduring the lava? ... Mm, it's a good question." She looks at Odette for a long moment but doesn't comment.
Lilian Rook	'... I-if you want to go swimmming, I can get mine out after we figure out our sleeping arrangements?'     "After you figure them out." Lilian repeats, with unnecessary emphasis. "Mine will be, of course, wherever I please, as will . . ." There's that godawful thought again. A dread chill runs down her spine. She'll have to work overtime to protect the precious souls aboard.     'Th-these were essential!'     "Better to have and not need. If you meely forgot shampoo or something, that's easilt rectified."     'Okay, like, we're *on* the water, I feel like it's a little, uh, irresponsible, to head out onto the water for a week, without having clothes you'd be able to get wet in.'     "Precisely." Lilian says, smugly. "If Kana understood well enough, I'd be an idiot not to grasp that from her example. And if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for those far less talented amongst us as well."     'So don't mind him, and we'll hope he gets eaten by sharks or something.'     "I don't know if I can take a bath until he does." Lilian mutters under her breath.
Odette Raskins	"If I threw you into the water without a tether or lifejacket or anything, would you be able to get back onto the boat?" "Wh... Why's that even a question?!" Predictably, Odette sounds and looks freaked out at the notion of Petra hurling her into the sea, especially since that possibility hasn't actually entered her mind until this moment. "U-unless the ship slows down or something... Of course I wouldn't!" She adds with a quiet whimper and whine, apparently not even realizing the danger of what she's just revealed. "I-I mean, I can swim okay , but still..." "After you figure them out." "Mine will be, of course, wherever I please, as will . . ." "I'll...?" There's a long, confused pause as Odette tries to process what it is Lilian's suggesting there. Is she asking Odette to sort that sort of thing out? Is she... Entrusting her with this kind of important duty? Her eyes actually light up behind her glasses at that. "Um. O-okay! I won't let you down, Dame Commander!" She affirms with a quick nod, then takes out her PDA and realizes she has no idea where the beds actually are. She'll have to work hard on that later, but she'll actually do it if there's no objections. She even makes sure to put presumed higher-priority targets (like Roy) right at the center for optimal body-blocking routing.
Khosa	Khosa shoots a glance over Torrie-way. Hmm, she thinks to herself, for two reasons: one, minotaurs are also new, and two, she's mildly impressed. If she wasn't talking to people she'd flex right back - but, alas, she has other things to do right now. Khosa takes in what Petra says. It only takes a moment before she seems relieved. "Oh, these can get wet, probably," she says, "and some of the other stuff I have can, too. It's just not... made for water." It is also probably not a good idea for Khosa to go swimming in a light-coloured wrap, but she seems more concerned with, "Anyway, I've never gotten in that much water before. I don't know that I want to if I can help it! If we gotta get to shore I'll make my own way, or strip off. It's not THAT cold here. But I don't know how to stay up in the water. Don't you sink through it?" Lilian is just as easy to reply to: "Mostly good things, but if it was *all* good I'd figure someone was lying," Khosa says, because nobody is loved by absolutely everybody. "Looking forward to working with you, though. If you've got questions I'd be happy to answer them." She grins at Nonon. "Well, the Free City's got a name; it's Tyr. But we're proud of being the Free City - none of the other city-states in the Tablelands are, they're all ruled by tyrants and dictators. Some of them claim to be gods, others just speak for 'em, and one says he was elected hundreds of years ago for life and he's not dead yet. But we overthrew ours and things are looking up!" As Khosa gets more comfortable talking with people, she's lost some of the stiffness, letting more of her actual personality shine through. "In any of the other cities I'd be a slave. But in Tyr, I get the same opportunities as anyone else, just about."
Marigold	Khosa might, in the course of watching Roy struggle his trunk across the deck (and refuse a certain peppy archer's help), notice a subtle distinction. If he were doing this to avoid looking weak, he'd try to make it seem effortless, or at least avoid having eyes on himself. He does neither. It seems almost like self-punishment then, only he isn't quite miserable enough for that.      He stops at the stairs to belowdeck, sitting on the trunk and catching his breath for a second. His grateful smile to Khosa can only mean 'thanks for not helping'. "It's a mess," he agrees soberly. And smiles: "Sounds like you understand at least as much as I do."      Cecilia looks back and forth between Aidan and Petra, softly bewildered. She isn't used to being told people she's talking to are delusional. "Well, ah... I'm afraid we really don't know anything. That's part of the problem. News between the Western Isles and the mainland goes by ship, so..." And ships haven't often been making it. "You'll have to do your own legwork."      "But, pirates can't operate without local support somewhere, and a place to dock. If you undermine that support, root out their hiding spots, they're done for. I'd give that better chances than a naval battle." She smiles reassuringly, or tries to, still a little unsteadied.      "She's taken ill..."      Dieck stops tugging on the pegasus's reins to look at Ace. "Sick? Well, hell. It's not bad, is it? Look, I can send a vulnerary back with you or something..." He pats down his pants one-handed. "Dieck, their medicine's better," says Shanna, uncharacteristically suddenly subdued. "Ahh, you're right. Well--" "Tell her I hope she gets better quick, and I still owe her some flying lessons. ... I like her." "--Yeah. We all do. Thanks for lookin' out for her."      "So they *did* have like, dragon printers."      Lucius blanks on 'printers', but he quickly gets the gist. "That's a persuasive thought. Making magic places is a lost art now, but it was done back then. Bern was the center of the dragons' civilization..." "And Zephiel used the Fire Emblem for some purpose," Guinivere soberly cuts in, "but has no urgent continued need for it." Lucius nods distantly, trying to fit those facts together.      "It makes me think that the dragons created at least one 'Dragon Weapon'"      "It's a thought. Still, the Divine Weapons were supposedly gifts from the gods... I have trouble imagining what god would favor them." Lucius seems to see no contradiction at all with his more general faith.      Torrie's poses are very well-received. By Lugh at least. Chad is jealous.      "any expert in dark magic is gonna be a weirdo"      "Some aren't," Lucius says warmly. "It isn't evil, as your friend Trudy knows. ... But that's a tempting path. The more of 'yourself' you sacrifice, the greater your power grows."      "...I'd had some thoughts about that."      Lucius's smile is so warm on Mia that she could almost forget he knows. He really is just like a nicer Elimine. "If you'd like to share?" he prompts gently.      "It's like she got called 'Saint Ruthlessly Destroy.'"      "That's not-!!" Lugh starts, almost indignantly. Then he remembers the Durandal vision, and parses Flamel's words a little more, and all the wind goes out of him. "Well, I guess it's a little like that."
Marigold	Lucius turns his ever-sympathetic attention back to Odette while she describes her woes, and taps his lips with a finger. "Racing thoughts... it sounds like you're under a lot of stress, Odette. Or perhaps your body is telling you that it needs something? I've struggled with those, too. Maybe our time on the ship will help you unwind. When's the last time you had a proper vacation?"      Triffin is pleasantly ambivalent to Mia's shaking, but looks to Melady keenly, who laughs and throws her wyvern a bit of jerky as a treat. Then Triffin's happy. "Maybe that's true... everyone understands wyverns and dragons are totally different. But they might still be 'contaminated' in memory." A little sigh; Melady's shoulders rise and fall, and her head tilts sideways. She passes her umbrella to Elen.      Triffin leans its head down like it's going to sniff Mia's hand, but sticks out its tongue instead, tasting the air like a snake. Melady pats the beast's shoulder fondly. "Triffin and I have been together since we were kids, though. So of course we understand each other. Honestly, it's a shame we have to use them for war at all..."      "I'm going to feel really terrible for having shot one down."      Melady smiles, self-consciously weak. "Well, they can be dangerous. It's certainly no worse than killing a person."      When Lilian reacts 'like that', Guinevere covers her mouth with one hand, and then with two, eyes still betraying sparklingly enraptured joy. "Oh my goodness. Isn't she perfect?" Guinevere murmurs to Elen, who nods while holding in a fond laugh.      Then the Princess touches Lilian's shoulder and drops half of the mischief. "Though it pains me to part, my heart is soothed by your promises and your work to keep them, fair knight. Be well, and know my thoughts are with you." Then she fades back and slips herself under Melady's arm, without ever taking her warmth off Lilian.      Melady's look can be read as: 'first time?'      Off on the distant end of the pier, Lilina-in-disguise looks crushed by Blemishine building up to turning her in... and then instantly springs back up, like a watered plant, when Blemi grins mischievously. "Oh! Thank you, Lady Maria! Oh, it is unfair, isn't it! Hector got to have his big adventure when he was my age, and now Roy's going off, and--"      "--And, really! How does he expect me to be a good ruler if I don't know how the world works! Travel makes the heart strong! And, and..." Lilina deflates a little again. She's had a lot on her mind, and not many people to talk to. Finally she smiles weakly and foists a heavy messenger bag off on Blemishine.      "Here. If you can slip this on board, I can find my own way on. Alright?"      By now, mostly everyone's stuff is on board. It's just stragglers and winding-down goodbyes. Lucius and Cecilia shake hands (which takes a little doing with her still on horseback), and the former calls his children to him. "... Oh, before we part. Father Lucius, didn't you find that woman's namesake?"      "Ah. Right." His face draws with tension, like it's a particularly unpleasant tidbit, and he flicks to a bookmarked page.      "The Demon Dragon, leader of the dragons in the Scouring, who was slain by the heroes... Elimine records their name as 'Idoun'." "So taking that name means..." "It's tantamount to declaring war on the world. Yes."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"The more of 'yourself' you sacrifice, the greater your power grows."     "Oh, yeah, I mean, that's how it goes, right?" Madeleine nods sagely.     "The Demon Dragon, leader of the dragons in the Scouring, who was slain by the heroes... Elimine records their name as 'Idoun'."     The huntress perks up at that, and finally notices the ship is mostly ready to go. Torrie hurries aboard while Madeleine follows Lucius around a little longer. "Demon Dragon, eh? How sure are you they didn't have some otherworldly powers behind them, again? Or is it just a moniker? Either way that's pretty bold of her, yeah. Reminds me of the crowd I used to run with. I mean, I already kind of suspected she might even *be* one of that lot but I don't know how she'd have gotten here before the Otherworld connected to Elibe... granted, I don't know how *I* got into the Otherworld without the rest of them coming along, even if I'm glad of that."
Dysnomia	"Triffin and I have been together since we were kids, though. So of course we understand each other. Honestly, it's a shame we have to use them for war at all..."     Something about that makes Dysnomia ease even more. "I guess people think these fierce, terrifiying creatures are just good for one thing." Her voice rose dangerously close to baby-talk. "It's good that you can take care of each other like this..." She felt bad, suddenly, for the amount of times she'd tried to drive wyverns against their riders. "...I hope you and Triffin can find a future like that for yourselves."     "If you'd like to share?"     It takes her breath away, that smile, and that sentiment. So like and unlike that woman's scowl. All gentleness...     But he DID know. He knew, and he still treated her like this. She breathed out, looking up at Triffin again. It was easier, basking in Melady's adoration for the little wyvern. "This is a guess, so. Don't spread this around. No need to cause a panic." She warned, her voice low, and darkly sober. "Dark magic is built upon sacrifice. Nergal sacrificed people, to make his own armies..."     "That woman, she was working her magic again at Ostia. But, if she was summoning it, why wait?" She turned away from Triffin then, wiping a strand of luminous hair from in front of her face. "Dragons would have made excellent seigebreakers. Why summon them then? It's bad strategy...And even the Bernish armies didn't know what was happening."     "You once said, there weren't dragons left to sacrifice. I imagine you're right..." That, or they were so hidden and so few that it just wouldn't have been worth the effort. "And a human life isn't enough to make a dragon. But. Lucius..."     "How about many human lives? A town? An army? A city?"     "It would allow a rapid conversion of captured territories into loyal armies, free up resources otherwise needed to occupy conquered lands. It could explain what Idoun was about to do to Ostia. And why Bern still has the strength to keep up this fight..." A beat. A strand of mist spun away from her, in the wind. "...Can we check on the major population centers in Bern's conquered territories? Subtly." Her eyes turned to scan the Lycian army, full as it was from people from all across Elibe. "If I'm wrong, it could set people off for nothing."
Odette Raskins	"Racing thoughts..." "When's the last time you had a proper vacation?" Odette chuckles lightly and shakes her head, like she's trying to brush that thought off. "Eh? O-oh, not that much! Stress, I mean." She chuckles briefly again, then clears her throat as she looks off to the side somewhat anxiously. "I-it's nothing compared to what everyone else has to deal with, anyway. I mean, between wars and expectations and being role models... They're really overdue for it, you know?" For emphasis, she even looks over at... Just about everyone, really. Roy's the obvious one, of course, and Lilian and Flamel get some pointed nods at well, but Odette also gestures lightly at Ace, Angela, and Madeleine with her head in particular. "I don't really know... Um. A lot of what they're going through, but there's just that... Feeling, you know?" The question about her last vacation, meanwhile has Odette just sort of looking from side to side awkwardly, genuinely unable to remember the last one since she started her training. "Uhh... I had to have one before I started, right? But the... No, that was just a weekend .And... No, that was just one day. Um... B-but I've definitely taken one! A... Forever ago."
Aidan Proudpick	"You're delusional. He's literally fucking delusional." "It doesn't matter. We'll find out if they are pirates or mercenaries or soldiers and figure out a way to stop them." "You'll have to do your own legwork." Aidan nods along with the ideas that Cecilia puts out. That's exactly what got suggested to him for the Gale Empire. His smile back is genuinely reassuring. "Cut them off then give them a choice, I like it! Don't worry, whatever's going on, we'll handle it." "Do you think Hearthward sits on his ass and does nothing while you're not looking?" "I know how hard he works. Too hard." Aidan says soberly without turning around to Lilian. The rest of the insult is a surefire bullseye to push his hackles up. But it slides past his brain. A hike up of his duffel bag, a pat on the back for Alucard, pulling the last of his energy up for a smile and a word. "Focus on the now. Scenery in front of us, a mission to do, and Mister Tennant's movies."
Desire Stars	It's not bad, is it? Look, I can send a vulnerary back with you or something... Dieck, their medicine's better. Tell her I hope she gets better quick, and I still owe her some flying lessons. ... I like her. --Yeah. We all do. Thanks for lookin' out for her.     "It's one of those cases where the only way out is through, and it's contagious. But she's learned a lot from you," hs says, fixing his gaze on Shanna. "About how to fight--how to stay in it, even when things look bad. She'll appreciate you all keeping her in her thoughts," says Ace. That much is the unvarnished, undiluted truth. I-it's nothing compared to what everyone else has to deal with, anyway.      "I make everything look easy, I know," says Ace with an insufferable smirk. "Still, you should try and follow my lead when it comes to relaxing. You might learn something." How someone treats the help tells you everthing about them as a person.     "That's true," Ace agrees with a little smile. "You strike me as someone who takes that very seriously." I'll be surprised if Bern is already all the way there, but more surprised that they'd leap to use agent provocateurs within the ranks, when Zephiel seems so committed to overwhelming military force.     "I wouldn't put anything past him," Ace says, his tone more sober than his earlier fondness. "He's committed not just to victory in an abstract sense, but to destroying his enemies' ability to make war. Not to mention how many new recruits he's been able to source."     He stands up straight, pushing off of the railing to venture belowdecks and find a suitable berth for himself. That is to say, whichever one he thinks is best. The accomodations given in that berth will quickly be 'modified;' humble bedsheets replaced with linens sporting an obscene thread count, pillows swapped out for ones he's brought himself, egyptian cotton/mulberry silk cases over memory foam cushions. Reading material (an even spread of novels and philosophy) is spaced out on the small shelf, his suitcases nestled next to the modest chest provided. A battery-powered lantern is put on the chest which now holds the original bed's sheets and pillows, plus personal care sundries (including a spread of hair and skincare products and suntan lotion). A collapsible chair is unfolded and set up in a corner, alongside a small collapsible end table as might be brought camping by a particularly bougie outsoors enthusiast; this supports a bottle of spiced rum should the occasion arise.     For a final touch, a little placard is hung from the door, sporting Ace's rider emblem; that stylized red fox's head. 'Just the essentials.'     Emerging at a leisurely pace back abovedecks, he extends his umbrella again, leaning the shaft against his shoulder and strolling back to the railing. I have trouble imagining what god would favor them.     "Having favor doesn't mean it can't be lost," answers Ace. "It's a common enough story on our world; long-lost relics sequestered away, awaiting the day when old sins are made right." The Demon Dragon, leader of the dragons in the Scouring, who was slain by the heroes... Elimine records their name as 'Idoun'. So taking that name means... It's tantamount to declaring war on the world. Yes. How about many human lives? A town? An army? A city?     Ace frowns thoughtfully, the thumb of his free hand tracing the grain of the wooden railing. "If there was even a shred of doubt about the defendant in Zephiel's 'trial,' I guess it's gone now, huh."
Flamel Parsons	"Elimine records their name as 'Idoun'."     "Woah... huh, that's so audacious! She's calling herself the *sequel* to the demon dragon. I'd guess she's *definitely* the one who got Zephiel thinking the way he does these days, if she called herself something like that..." Flamel scratches his head and grits his teeth a bit. "I definitely hate that though. It's such a posture of hostility..."     "I have trouble imagining what god would favor them."     "The more of 'yourself' you sacrifice, the greater your power grows."     "But is divine favor really needed for this one aspect of things? What if... Hmmm..." He taps his foot and paces a little. "Something, *something* that the dragons made, used that kind of soul-coding? Just that, specifically? An artifact that encoded anti-personness like that... it'd be perfectly suited to stay hidden for all this time, and it'd be perfectly suited to hurt humanity a long time later. A lot of societies in a posture of total war will do things like that. Weaponized illnesses, poisonous giant explosives, everything that could just spite the enemy for a thousand years."     "Mmmm... maybe not. But I think I should look into it." He nods a few times, wiping that frown off his face brightly. "I'll just keep an eye out for it all, I guess!"
Khosa	Khosa has she's seen enough to understand Roy, at least a little bit. He can't ask for help, because of his position; he has to take it on himself, and struggle. It's not being weak by not being physically strong enough he'd be worried about - it's being weak for being unwilling to shoulder his own load. So she doesn't. "Probably not," Khosa replies to Roy, "but I'm hoping to learn. And hey, I've got a whole week to figure it out on the ship..." She looks up at the ship again. "I've never been on water before. It's still hard to imagine, and I'm in it!" She runs her hand across her bare head, down to the tail of hair, wiping off water from the rain. "You know, that's how I got the job," Khosa adds. "I mean, working off my home world. I didn't freak out when our team found the Gate and walked out into a thunderstorm."
Petra Soroka	"And you're going to wear it? In front . . ."     Petra winces, only not following Lilian's gaze because she already knows where it leads. She waffles a bit, tipping her head back and forth and whining low in her throat, mildly distraught by having her attention drawn over to him on this topic, rather than just not thinking about him at all.     "... Well, it's summer." That's kind of a non-sequitor, and doesn't address the question at all. It's actually simply true, though, that Petra is the most fit-- and otherwise bodily actualized-- she's been in her life, so it's a little nice to be in a swimsuit. "And I have four guns." That's the more relevant reason. "I suppose you're imagining they'll be shaken by your battle wounds?"     Petra curls up her shoulders and tugs at the neckline of her shirt, unsuccessfully attempting to cover any of the bites or... there's definitely some knife scars peeking up through there. "W-well-- n-no? I'm just dressed-- dressed, appropriately, for the-- because it's important to embody the context of the mission and world you're dedicating yourself to, and... like, I mean, I-I think I'm fine fighting like this?" "Though it pains me to part, my heart is soothed by your promises and your work to keep them, fair knight."     Petra wasn't involved in the conversation between Guinevere and Lilian, just adjacent and looking contritely in the opposite direction like she's averting her gaze and judgement from an indecent act. By pure splash damage alone, a curse is inflicted upon her, and she mumbles to herself, shell-shocked, "... What the fuck..." "She's not a bad duck, she's just looked at the Well, you know, and nobody's the same after looking in there for long. Well...most nobody!"     Petra, who's theoretically in charge of Parker but avoids interacting with her as much as possible, mutters bitterly in Nonon's direction. "Carmen's so fucking scary. You know, like, Parker sucks, she's barely a person you can interact with at all; thinking about her *not* being like that 'before', is kind of fucking horrifying. I'm around that Well all the time, if I wasn't literally always on guard, who knows if she'd turn me into some weird face-obsessed freak too."     Petra notices Madeleine's maid once she turns towards Lilian silently, mostly out of a passive mental filtration process where she ceases to perceive anything that isn't Lilian-related or an enemy. She raises a hand to lazily wave at the new person, glancing at her face without any particular surprise or response. "Oh, hey. Love the big-ass mirror. Got anyone stored in there?" "Mine will be, of course, wherever I please, as will . . ."     "Well, if Lady Guinevere isn't coming along, then there's a room for you." Petra says this like it's the most intuitive thing in the world, nodding along. "If Kana understood well enough, I'd be an idiot not to grasp that from her example. And if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for those far less talented amongst us as well."     "Mhm, yeah," Petra *did* have the Water Experts on the mind when packing, since it's one of her only experiences being on the open ocean. One thing she learned, is that you will always end up getting wet somehow. "There wasn't anyone on the Union Busan stupid enough to spend every day thinking they'd never have to deal with the water, even if they weren't planning on it." Well, there were, but Rita killed them all before Petra met her.
Petra Soroka	"I don't know if I can take a bath until he does."     Petra blinks, and then looks at Lilian, drawing her transteam gun. She raps a fingernail on the bottle filled with Silver, head tilted, wordlessly communicating that she's more than willing to act as guard. Station Petra at the bath door. She is normal and can be trusted with guard duty. "U-unless the ship slows down or something... Of course I wouldn't!"     Without looking at Odette, Petra neutrally says, "That's really funny." There's essentially no way to interpret that besides as a threat. "But you *can* swim, though. That's good; I don't know if life rings exist yet." "If we gotta get to shore I'll make my own way, or strip off. It's not THAT cold here."     Petra's lips twist in irritation at Khosa. She's finally understanding a little bit about the cultural differences of the desert planet, and she is *not* a fan. "Don't strip. Ew. If you can't swim, isn't it really risky to come out here for the first time on a long boat trip?" "It's tantamount to declaring war on the world. Yes."     Petra sighs and leans back, resting her legs by putting some of her weight on a crate plopped on the dock behind her. "... Damn it, that's cool as hell. That's such a good namesake. Are we sure she's evil?"     She cuts off suddenly, gaze unfocusing as she stares at the dock blankly for a few seconds. "Oh, right. She's killing people. Asked and answered." A short while passes before she comes up with anything else to say, recontextualizing this information away from admiration. "... But the new Idunn isn't leading-- or maybe she is? I don't know, just from what I've heard about Zephiel... but it'd be weird to style yourself after the *leader* of the dragons, and then be the mute second-in-command, wouldn't it?" 'Just the essentials.'     Once Petra wanders onto the ship, almost totally having forgotten that she's supposed to find a room herself-- it's strange to think about 'unpacking' when she doesn't have any suitcases with her! It feels more like she's expecting to crash with someone else-- Petra will be very interested in making sure that Ace took the *second* best room, actually. Lilian said she wanted the best room, and Petra is not above instigating heinous sorority house prank wars in order to make that happen.
Blemishine	To Lilina's claims of unfairness, Maria nods her head understandingly. She's listening to every word, clearly. "If he's like this at his age, ahaha, I really only get more and more curious about how he was and everything he went through back during his youth..." Really, this being the first time she's talked to Lilina at length one-to-one, the resemblance is more striking to her than she says out loud - and it's more than just hair color.     "And you're right about both of those things too, I think! The very same goes for being a knight. For me. I don't think I can ever be a good one if I don't understand how everything really works," she says while hoisting up the messenger bag. There's a little 'hup' as she braces it beneath an arm - and then shifts her cloak ever so slightly so that it's mostly obscuring it.     She continues, even as Lilina loses her steam. "...and traveling is certainly one way to fix that. That's part of why I'm here now, myself. It's dangerous, sure, but I definitely don't need to tell you that. I can tell you're no less resolved to face things than Roy is." Regardless of how prepared they are-- but that's part of undertaking this sort of journey itself. Once she's confident the bag is settled, she looks to the other girl and widens her warm smile.     Maybe she can tell, since she's sort of been there before. "If you ever need someone to chat with, I'm always willing to lend an ear. Sometimes, that's all anyone really needs. I'll see you on board soon, Lady Lilina~!" A tiny wave with her free hand, a wink, and she begins heading back down the pier to finally board properly.     She'll be volunteering for first watch duty today, she thinks. Certainly, no stowaways will slip by on her expert watch.
Desire Stars	Are we sure she's evil?     Ace gives Petra a flat expression, but she course corrects. It'd be weird to style yourself after the *leader* of the dragons, and then be the mute second-in-command, wouldn't it?     "Zephiel treats her reverently," he notes. "He said that we weren't worthy of her time." 'The second best room.'     He didn't. He picked 'the best.' As if he had some sort of ESP for knowing which would instigate that response from her. Most frustrating, or perhaps concerning of all, is Ace's response to the opening salvo of any such prank war--a placid, even smile. As if he were ready--even welcoming of it.
Angela	"Carmen..?" Nonon looks to Petra, startled. "Ahah...I'm sure...it wasn't intentional...?" She sounds unsure though. Angela's eyes slant towards Petra without turning the video camera around. "...Parker... Trying to heal her psychic injuries is why I sent her to that camp in the first place. She originally wasn't even an Agent, she broke into the facility and she ended up looking into the Well and--well she ended up like that. Afterwards, she was a relatively pliable agent--following the rules, mostly, but being difficult to control outside of those rules." She sighs. "Like this, we don't even know why she was in there to begin with. To be honest even I don't know the full story." Nonon gives a vague shrug with both shoulders since all of that is stuff she didn't know. "Some agents are still really devoted to her, and many of the Sephirah. But...Yeah, hopefully the Seed of Light project doesn't shatter us like Parker, eh?" Nonon is sheepish. Angela nods to Lilian. "I will inform Tennant to feel free to accept additional work from you, Dame Commander."
Marigold	"About how to fight--how to stay in it, even when things look bad.      The corners of Shanna's eyes crinkle with an uncomfortable smile. Dieck leads the pegasus to a belowdecks stable, but she lingers. "I'm kind of stupid," she admits, in a wavery tone that suggests she's never admitted it before. "I don't know if anyone should learn that from me. But... thanks. For saying so. Please, tell me if I- if we can help."      Lucius halts on his way up the ramp, leaning in to the conversation with Mia and Melady. They both look deeply unnerved by her theory. "It's... possible. Such a magic has never been devised, but..." "I was stationed in Ilia. If whole cities vanished, I'd know. But..." They look at each other, and nod. It's too grave to ignore.      "I'll have Etruria check. Just to make sure. Thanks, Dysnomia."      "Demon Dragon, eh? How sure are you they didn't have some otherworldly powers behind them, again?"      Father Lucius laughs, just a little, as he hoists Lugh up off the ramp and onto the ship. "Mostly sure. I knew a man named the 'Sword Demon' once; I suppose it's a title earned by being drenched in enough blood."      He offers a less-intrusive hand up to Madeleine when she follows. "I think he found peace, in the end." Hup. "I'm glad you did too."      "it'd be weird to style yourself after the *leader* of the dragons, and then be the mute second-in-command, wouldn't it?"      "I don't know. Did she style herself that way? Maybe he did."      When Odette gets up on the caravel's deck, he offers her a hand too. "If it's affecting you this badly, then your problems are big. There's no arguing with that," Lucius says sweetly. "What other people are going through doesn't matter. And besides, we've gotten more breaks than you have. I'll find ways of helping you unwind, alright?"      "I didn't freak out when our team found the Gate and walked out into a thunderstorm."      Roy continues to catch his breath sitting on the trunk, hands on his knees and a lame smile on his face. "Is that right? I hear it never thunders in Ilia because it's too cold. But you're not dressed like that." He takes a sip of water from a canteen for a moment.      "... That's still better than me. I've hardly been to the Otherworld at all. Maybe after all this, I'll have a chance to visit." There's an implicit invitation in there.      "Woah... huh, that's so audacious!"      "If there was even a shred of doubt about the defendant in Zephiel's 'trial,' I guess it's gone now, huh."      Merlinus, who to his credit has kept busy lugging around cargo for the past while, stops and overdramatically wipes off his forehead. "Whew. It sure is. All of humanity's his enemy, it sounds like... but he's kept it hidden almost long enough to divide-and-conquer us." "There are no more neutral countries," Roy says, leaning in. "If that's his aim, why does he still pretend it's anything else?" "Well, if I were his soldier, I wouldn't like hearing that very much!" "I suppose... but they're still fat on their winnings."
Marigold	"...and traveling is certainly one way to fix that. That's part of why I'm here now, myself."      "Really? You?" the cloak-disguised Lilina says to Blemi. She leans forward, getting a better look at Blemishine's face as if it might hold secrets. "You already seem so grown-up. Even someone like you still feels like she has things to learn..."      That thought dispirits her, but only for a moment. Lilina nods firmly, her face setting in a look of plucky determination. "Well, thank you, Lady Maria. I don't know if I can live up to your standard, but... I'll try."      - - - -      It's a while longer until everything's packed and everyone's settled into their little rooms, and a while after that until anchor's finally pulled. Guinevere and Elen shout up their courtly goodbyes. Cecilia billows the sails with a gentler version of her wind-blades magic, and gallops to the end of the pier to wave goodbye to Roy, who seems genuinely sad to leave her. A noble stowaway climbs up the ship's far side and nestles into a covered rowboat. And Melady soars alongside almost until the port town has disappeared over the horizon, doing pretty maneuvers for everyone's appreciation- especially Shanna's, who drags out her pegasus to join the other flier for a while.      After a while you outpace the rain. And a while after that, you seem to leave the sun behind too. Sunset shines off of hundreds of small, choppy waves, and land becomes nothing a dark streak along the horizon. Most of the army tucks in to their beds. And Roy stares out over the railing, leaving home- and one of his closest friends- farther behind than ever. Merlinus pats him on the shoulder in silent sympathy.      "Just think. In a week, we'll be in the Western Isles. And from there--"      "Oh, when's the stop at Reglay?"      "Pardon, 'stop'?"      The soul exits Clarine's body.