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#because thean practiced it
petitmimosa · 2 years
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Showerzuru practice.
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For the ask game you posted, could you please answer 14, 23, 39, and 43? (Sorry if it's a lot of questions.)
And for a question not from that one ask game, if you could write a story arc set entirely within Thea, what general plot thread would it center around and what team of BC characters would you want there (I think 5-6 characters is a good enough list)? This one will probably take time to answer and that's kind of the point, I like a bit of a wait, heh heh.
Hiya Erika!! Of course you may ^^
14. Do you love the smell of earth after it rains?
Yes. Actually, I love the smell of rain in itself. Specifically if it's in nature, or close to the forest. The air just smells so fresh. And most often it combines with the scents of pine or grass or just... the nature around
23. How do you feel about chilly weather?
I meeeeaaaaannnn.... I'm from a cold country. But it depends on the kind of chilly weather. The autumn, humid kind of cold I hate. It seeps into one's bones and just ... It's cold as hell.
But if it's the kind of dry coldness, that's much more bearable. And enjoyable. Also, actually, I think that chilly weather during spring is also... less freezing? Like +4 C and we're out in hoodies because... It's so warm! Sip your coffee, or tea and just enjoy the weather.
I am a summer child by heart, but the contrast between cold and warm (dry cold and warmth) is enjoyable to me.
39. Do you use lip balm?
Yes. Though... my latest lip "balm" that I bought was labelled as "lip oil" so it's more of a .... gel? I think it was over-priced, but at least it tastes nice (raspberry-peach).
43. What’s your take on spicy foods?
It's kinda funny that... I had this conversation with an irl friend some months ago, when he (a poc) asked me, in a very courteous manner, if I can handle spice. And my reply was something along the lines of "my skin tone is the colour of milk, and I have a spice tolerance to match". Which was meant as a humorous reply, but genuinely my spice tolerance is low. I do enjoy some spice in some dishes, but it really depends on the dish, and even then the spice level according to most would probably be quite low.
So, what is considered as "spicy"?
Spicy food can be tasty, really tasty, but if the heat overpowers the taste, and it just burns, then I personally don't enjoy such dishes. I'm just a weakling when it comes to spicy food, but spice that I can handle, I enjoy.
---
For the story... I think it'd be a kind of an exploration fic. Or getting to know Thea, because I like exploring my own country.
I'd probably include Owen, to explore the health care aspect of it. Probably Charlotte, because, honestly, I think she'd enjoy being in Thea, and for the YamiChar aspect, I'd probably include Yami too. Perhaps he'd even be intrigued by the country, and how it functions, along with how it's different from Hino and Clover. Practically speaking it might be beneficial for Nozel to also go there.
But the way it's formulating, the idea, it'd probably be the Captains, along with Owen, familiarizing themselves with Thean customs and practices. All of them could probably find an aspect that they find intriguing, and enjoyable.
I know this is a bit vague, but... my brain works by me placing the characters into the setting, and then I just "follow them around", so to find out what happens in the story, I'd have to start writing it, or mapping it out.
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    Nightmare Headshot art + mini story
Here's a little story that I wrote with it! Kind of a reader pov, tell me how I did an if you enjoyed it!!
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You were just walking peacefully in the City, when you were grabbed and pulled into an alleyway, with Poachers surrounding you. You could tell, because of the symbols seared into their bare shoulders. As a demon, you were still targeted by them, no beast, demon, or angelic being was safe from these humans. They weren't even allowed in the City! How did they get in?! You slowly back into the biggest one, a giant, burly man with a wicked face.
    "Look here, sweetheart, just come with us, an' we can all leave peacefully together. How's a weekly paycheck and a place to stay sound? "
    You knew what he really meant. Be a slave to him, and he would reward you. You, however, didn't want to go down like this.
    Not like this.
    "Sorry, I'm not becoming a prisoner today!"
    You shout, your hands glow with magic as you summon your blades and take a swing. You were never much of a fighter, but you weren't going to not fight this time. Your time away from practicing your blades hit you at full force as thean expertly grabs your wrist and knocks you into the ground, the blade scattering away from you. Taking the other you desperately attempt to slash, but that wrist was grabbed too, and the grip was so, so crushing. You drop that blade, too.
    You open your mouth to scream, when the man's face above you suddenly turns to shock. You blink as his grip loosens and he's lifted off of you, realizing that a silver diamond blade tip was pierced through his chest, and his side. Whoever had stabbed him was strong enough to sling the leading Poacher into the opposite wall, next to a dumpster. You look up at your savior, and you seem to recognize her. Her hair was cropped short, curling around her face, and outwards in the back. Her bright, angry red eyes glares from the man to his buddies, who snarl and draws their weaponry. The girl who's saved you, however, was faster. In a blink of an eye, one of the men chokes, and his headless body falls to the ground, his head rolling to stop in front of his friend's feet. The man looks around wildly, the girl had seemed to disappear. You hear another slash of those deadly swords, and he lets out a silent scream as he's- literally- cut in half, his body colliding to the ground in two pieces.
    You blink as the girl slides her swords back into their scabbards before they dissolve, then turns to you halfway and winks.
    "You okay there, darling?"
    You nod, then roll over to all fours to stand, stretching out your wings to help balance you as you get to your feet. As you face the girl, you falter. Her face was crossed with a look of sudden shock and sadness. Before, she was confident and quite the badass, but now she was nervous, and looked scared. You opened your mouth when you notice something that you hadn't before due to being on the ground. Her crown. Or, dare say, his crown. One you'd seen so many times when you were in hell. His Majesty. Your thankfulness suddenly turned to anger. Nightmare shies away, lowering his eyes to the ground.
    "I should... Ah... Leave..."
    You hear him mumble as he speed walks past you. No way, he wasn't getting away that easily. You spin around and grab his arm, yanking him back to face you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that anger was threatening to bubble out-
    Then, you see his face so much more clearly. Once, it had been soft, and glowing, like a child's would. Now, he just looked... Exhausted. Dark bags hung under those wide, bright red orbs, and he looked so much more... Mortal. He didn't glow, like he had. As you slowly settle your anger, you remember that day the heavens and hell had fallen. You remember that... That thing that Nightmare had let into hell.
    Though, the more you looked back on it, the more sense everything was becoming. You remember how... Lonely the God had looked before it had showed up. Sure... He had his brother, and had friends, but you realize that they were almost always busy helping the two Gods with souls entering both Heaven and Hell. You remember how awkward he could be greeting his subjects, because that's all they saw him as. A ruler. None had never used his actual name, and you now recall how his ears would drop when he was addressed so formally, even by his friends.
    You also realize that the thing he had let in was the only one who didn't refer to him that way. It had probably tricked him. He was lonely, and it offered to be his friend.
   He's now looking away from you, his ears tilted down, and he flinches when you speak.
    "... Why did you let it in?"
    You had meant to be harsh, but it came out soft. His response confirmed your theory.
    "... I wanted a friend... To fit in."
    Your anger vanished. He didn't really have any of those, did he? You gently rub your hands against his arms for comfort, like you'd seen his brother do so many times when he was sad.
    " I... Was always so angry..." You whisper. "Now... Now I see."
    He looks at you, his face had softened into curiosity now. You give him a gentle smile, and bring him into a hug. He lets out a small squeak like a toy a dog would chew on. It was kind of cute. You feel him bring his arms around you, his body trembling, and you were now aware of the tears slowly streaming down your face. As you hear a soft, pitiful sob, you whisper to him.
    "... I forgive you, Nightmare."
    His breath hitches, and he suddenly starts bawling. You can't help but weakly chuckle. You hang on to him, waiting for him to calm down. You realize one more thing as you do. You'd expect him to smell like decay, or blood, or some other horrible smell, like, well... Death.
    He didn't.
    He smelled like lavender.
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vibestillax · 6 months
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SPIRIT OF MOON'S DIALOGUE
Tags!; @vopix @r0ckstardr3amgal @justalittlebitofchaos @haunted-headset @joviepog
CHP 1.PAGE 11
My parents had been acting very very strange because they are staying 2 months in a vacation in Malibu. But I don’t care, I just cannot wait to go to brighton
“well that’s quite the beauty, cause I definitely think that Spencer will have veiny hands, like Wilbur”
“MENDI! GOSH! STOP” I groan, she knows I love Wilbur Soot and James Marriott with all my life, but she knows I dreamed about Wilbur 40 times, is quite weird yet nice . I wasn’t down I was flustered
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!” Mendi laughs, her laugh sounds like someone familiar in my mind.
Her laugh is familiar to someone but I can’t get their name right...her laugh was the same as her ascentor... I started looking at her wall,the painted wall that was painted with neon watercolors I got since we had been friends since 6th grade.but the drawings were ghosts and spirits that dance with each other, I think for Mendi those drawings meant Trust and it’s yours if you know what I mean of course. But that’s a manifestation quote,I never get it when it’s just like something I don’t even know about and thean you should go for it.
I hear a knock at the door.
“I’ll go and open it!” Mendi says,with a hint of enthusiasm in her voice, as i walk with her to open the door we saw Spencer.
“HOW WAS THE CHOCLATE SPIRIT PRACTICE GIG?” I ask , with a hint of enthusiasm
“it was good!” Spencer says,smiling.
I look at Mendi and Mendi looks at me,And then this came in my mind.
“I have an idea”
“what idea,Glenn”
“WE SHOULD PICK A STYLE FOR SPENCER TO HAVE THE BEST STYLE AT HIS FIRST EVER GIG!” I say,Mendi started to get exicted and eek,I eek with her and Spencer smiles at us two, I had no idea she’ll like it,but she ADORED THE IDEA.
“GREAT IDEA MISS GLENN!” Mendi yells, she loved modelling very much, and so gentle clothing style she haves in her wardrobe for all the seasons, I adore how she dresses in Christmas because she haves cozy clothing to dress with while sitting at the fireplace with me and her brother Spencer.
We started styling Spencer like a Rockstar boyfriend figure as I am saying in my aesthetic, my aesthetic is Grunge combines with Indie.
Well, For Mendi when she styles Spencer, Attraction is subjective for her brother and she finds the hourglass waist attractive, Now im thinking about wilbur because at a gig he made an interview and he had that HOURGLASS WAIST that was making me fall down my bed...
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IPPJ process
on the first day, we were briefed on what the interdisciplinary project, with the main focus on How do we own the future. my group consisted of 4 people, with students from design communications, product design, and fine arts. we then identified a problem statement that we could seek to address. We settled on the issue of meat overconsumption in the world as an issue that we can tackle. the global meat industry at the moment is extremely inefficient and ecologically damaging, and current farming trends are unsustainable for the growing population of the world. through research we soon gathered that meat consumption is growing largely due to demand from developing economies of the world. as more people in the world become more affluent from development, they are able to purchase more nutritious foods, like meat. However, the ability to buy and eat meat is also a luxury and a status symbol, and it is from this behaviour that creates the most amount of waste and overinflated demand. we then decided to target this element to alleviate the problem of meat overconsumption. after some consultations with our professor, we derived a few ideas. there are many facets to this issue that makes farming meat ecologically unsustainable, namely: The improper use of land, excess space needed for livestock grazing, tenfold carbon footprint per weight of meat vs crop, excessive need for water and food for livestock. there are currently some solutions that address all of these parameters. a trend is the use of mock meats, usually derived from soy. However mocks meats contain a lot of binders and does not contain some essential nutrients found in meat, and for the most part fail to replicate the taste and texture of meat. Thus there is still little demand for mock meats to be an alternative. Another is the use of lab grown animal tissue. This technology is still in its infancy, but the idea is promising as it drastically reduces the space and resources needed to produce meat. The downsides to this is method is that we have yet to learn about the health effects of eating such tissue, as well as a scalable solution to fulfil demand. in the mean time, much of employed animal husbandry techniques persist mainly because of economic efficiency, as creating a higher short term profit outweighs the ecological deficit these practices create. we decided then to reduce the demand side of this consumption model by creating awareness of the issue. many a times we know that meat consumption is ecologically damaging, but because we are so removed from the production and real live immensity of the resources involved, we hope to visualize the quantity as well as the impacts that rearing livestock entails. an example of fusing this method of visualization to highlight a point, was a collaborative effort by the World Wildlife Fund and Yoshiyuki Mikami, where they created a photographic series where each pixel in the picture of an animal represented the number of it left in the wild. this means that the lesser the number of wild specimens, the more obscured the image will become. We found this idea to be very clever and effective, and thus we created a proposal for a mobile game called Scale. Scale is a meat consumption tracker as well as a farming game that lets people see and realize how much resources it takes to create the amount of meat that they ate.  by visualising the scale of the resources and impact of meat production each user has, we hope that society might alter their daily meat consumption. Though this idea was just a hypothetical proposal, I do feel that it could be effective in conveying the message of the impact of meat overconsumption. I felt that as a music student, the obvious way I could contribute was to create the music and sonic elements for this app. however I also felt that with my engineering background, I could formulate the algorithms and mechanics of the gameplay, while my more design and visually artistic team mates would create the artwork and user interface of the game. all in all, an interesting take on a solution to preserve the ecology of our planet, and being able to own the future.
Thean Yian, 20787
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🌟What is something you pray for?⁠ ⁠ Thean Hou Temple is a six-tiered temple of the Chinese sea goddess Mazu located in Kuala Lumpur. I usually pray and light an incense when visiting a temple, despite being non practicing myself. My mom (also non practicing) taught me the Chinese phrase: When you enter a temple, pray. When you enter a house, greet. I just pray the same thing since forever: ⁠ ⁠ Happiness and health for everyone I know and care about, especially the kids. ⁠ ⁠ I see kids around me battling horrible diseases. Little patients going from perfectly healthy to an inevitable future in a wheel chair. Just this week, the son (around my son's age) of someone I occasionally dance with tragically passed away after being hit by a car.⁠ Motherhood is amazing, but it comes with fears so real and unpredictable, it has always terrified me.. Yet, I'm still learning to cope and not let it sufficate me and my kids' lives.⁠ ⁠ 📸Funny story behind the pic:⁠ This is my daughter comforting me, after my fall off the stairs.⁠ I was actually walking these stairs holding my son's hand. Suddenly, one of us, don't know who first, slipped. In order to prevent my son from getting hurt, I tried to hold him up during our fall. So, I hit the edge of a step with my bum, hard, because I didn't break my fall. The little one got away with a little scare, I have been walking around with a huge black (!) bruise for weeks. Seriously, the kids asked to see it the whole time.....😂⁠ ⁠ ⁠ _____________________________________⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠ 🌎Follow: @lifeandtripsoftheyips⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠ for a little insight of our life and travels⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣🚀⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠ Tag: #letsfollowthekids⁠ _____________________________________⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠ ⁠ (at Thean Hou Temple) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4IFCv2nPld/?igshid=1xdlxu4w8w7kw
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keptin-indy · 7 years
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7th Sea: The New World 4
Politics precede proposed piracy and put paranormal practice in public.
Previous installments
Etienne returned to the ship with a variety of fruits from the Atabean and New World as well as some large pots of dirt, which he made Brandt and Ansgar carry.  He explained that his family had orchards in Montaigne and he wanted to find out which of these new plants could be cultivated.  He was especially excited about the “advocat”, which he thought might go well with Ansgar’s crabs.   After Misha wandered back late the next morning, the company shared the things they’d learned and split up again to take care of further business in port.  Tamara tracked down Captain Oka to ask him her own questions about the Ruhuri spirits and he asked if she was travelling with “the Castillian madwoman” with some amusement.  He told Tamara that the spirits were Ruhuri ancestors who came back to accomplish some purpose, and they were fairly common in Ruhuri settlements, but they could only be retrieved from Soryana by a Seeker requesting their help.  He wished her luck in her quest and said he’d be keeping an ear out to hear about Mariandl’s further antics.  Brandt looked into Atabean Trading Company’s operations and found that they openly practiced slavery in the Atabean, far from the reach of Thean laws or even rumour.  Their ships traveled without armed escorts, but all local pirates knew that taking a Company ship made you a target for their agents in every port.  The Brotherhood and the ATC were locked in a cold war, but one of Aragosta’s founders had started working for the Company recently as a pirate-hunter, much to everyone’s shock.  Brandt asked Lady Gwendolyn to use her position at court to do something about the ATC once they returned to Avalon, which she already fully intended to do.  He also informed her on his intention to track down and capture Captain Turnbull, though he promised he would wait until her quest was complete before embarking upon his own.
News came from Jaragua the next day - the Ifri and native Ruhuri had split into factions and begun fighting each other over how to run their fledgling government.  Khofi was deeply distressed by this and wasn’t comforted by Tamara assuring him that all swift political changes prompted that kind of in-fighting.  Concerningly for Lady Gwendolyn, all Seekers of Soryana were Ruhuri, but Khofi’s boss - through whom he’d hoped to arrange a Seeker - was Ifri.  Etienne asked if there were leaders on either side who could be convinced to work together, but Khofi said they had always seemed willing to cooperate with each other before now.  Tamara brought up the practical concern of their next actions in light of this news: since Jaragua was on the other side of the Atabean and might not even be able to supply them with a Seeker, she thought they should look elsewhere.  Gwendolyn agreed, though Brandt wanted to involve himself in the Jaraguan fight for freedom and Tamara agreed, but not while they were under contract for another job.  Brandt asked Khofi where to find a Cacique and Khofi told him that Naca’an was 450 miles due South of them and incidentally where Timoun had been from.  The company decided to head there to tell his people of his death, but Etienne brought up what to do with Khofi himself, as he was no use to them as a guide.  Gwendolyn surprised Khofi by giving him the option to come with them or be put ashore in Aragosta, as he had been convinced they would kill him for his treachery.  In gratitude, he gave them a letter of introduction for Chaplain Nkansa, the Ifri leader in Jaragua, should they ever find themselves in his country.  Brandt asked if there was anything he could deliver if they somehow arrived before Khofi, and Khofi made copies of some papers to give to him.  Tamara escorted him off of her ship, and once they were on land, punched him for his deceit, which he admitted he deserved.
The Dream sailed south on the next tide and sighted some local “whaling” vessels two days later.  The native ships ran up a flag of parley and made to intercept them, the grim sailors all wearing traditional Ruhuri monster-hunting garb, mostly consisting of parts of previously-killed sea monsters.  None of the whalers looked pleased to see them, but their apparent leader, standing in the prow of one of the ships, looked even less pleased.  She hailed the Dream in Old Thean, telling them they’d entered Riroco waters and demanding to know their business there.  Tamara answered that they were just passing through on their way to Naca’an, but the woman then wanted to know why they were headed there and Gwendolyn stepped forward to say they wished to report a man named Timoun’s death to his people.  The woman seemed upset and bluffly asked why she should care that a man who abandoned his post had died for it, but in the same breath demanded to know what they’d done to him.  Gwendolyn asked for permission to come aboard the woman’s ship to explain, which Tamara and Etienne insisted was a bad idea, as the woman insisted she come alone.  Etienne handed her his dagger and told her to keep it on her “just in case” despite Gwendolyn already having her sword.  Gwendolyn crossed over to the Ruhuri ship where the other woman asked what had happened to her brother.  Gwendolyn explained how they had met on her family’s lands in Avalon and become close until he had sent her a letter telling her he had something important  to say that he couldn’t write down, but when she had gone to meet him, she found that he had been murdered.  She was looking for Soryana because he had told her one could speak to the dead there and she wanted to find out both what he had wanted to tell her and who had killed him.  The woman said that Timoun’s dereliction of duty meant that he might not even have entered the afterlife, but she wished Gwendolyn luck all the same and said that she could give her a recommendation to a Cacique if she did something for the Riroco.  The ATC was about to launch a new schooner which they claimed was the fastest in the Atabean and she wanted it.  She also finally introduced herself as Tanama and said that the Dream would have safe passage through her waters if they agreed to help her.  Gwendolyn crossed back over and presented this deal to her escort, who debated the feasibility of either taking the schooner outright when they couldn’t catch it or sneaking into Fort Freedom itself - the headquarters of the ATC - and stealing it before its launch.  Ansgar pointed out that if they didn’t go to Fort Freedom now, before they’d taken the ship, they’d never have another opportunity after antagonizing the ATC.  Etienne wanted more information about Fort Freedom before committing to sneaking into it, but Tanama relayed back that none of her spies were available to talk to, so she would give them a token allowing them to speak with someone in nearby Mucaro.  They set up a rendezvous point for once they’d captured the schooner and Tanama told them they were now working with the Riroco, a group dedicated to driving out the ATC.  Etienne told her he knew some people who supported her cause and had been trying to get in touch with the Riroco.  Misha asked out of the blue if the ghosts he saw on her crew ever ate people, mystifying Tanama, which set him at ease that she didn’t even consider it a possibility.  Tamara asked if she could speak to one of the ghosts through a translator, and Tanama brought over a man named Liren, who had died defending his village from ATC slavers.  Tamara asked what it was like being dead and was disappointed to hear it was pretty normal.  Tanama explained that the departed ancestors could send messages to their descendants via tiny frogs and sometimes they asked to come back to complete a task.  A Seeker physically entered the underworld and petitioned the god of the dead to allow the spirit to return for a while, which the god allowed because he had made a deal with the Ruhuri people long ago making them eternal guardians of the sea.  All the spirits on Tanama’s ships had sworn vengeance against particular ATC officers who had killed them.  Mariandl was overcome with questions about this and had to be restrained from asking too offensively.  Tanama warned them about a nearby nest of winged sirens and gave them a giant shark tooth to show at Mucaro before sending them on their way with a warning not to tell anyone where they had encountered her.
Mucaro turned out to be a decent-sized Ruhuri town and it was greatly agitated by a Thean ship sailing into port.  A war canoe crewed mostly by the dead rowed out to meet them and Gwendolyn held up Tanama’s shark tooth to assure them they weren’t ATC slavers.  The canoe escorted them in and they were met by a Riroco agent who answered their questions about Fort Freedom:  There were usually less than a handful of ATC ships in port at a time, but at least twice the number of roughly allied pirates as well.  Fort Freedom was the name of the whole town, but the only real fortification was Rourke’s replica of Freiburg’s Watchurm - the Snowflake star fort.  With this overlooking the harbour, it would be impossible to sail the captured ship out undetected, but Etienne proposed an alternate plan: if he could sneak onto the ship in the harbour briefly, then he was capable of letting the others board the ship from any distance away.  To do this, they would have to pass through the Walkways, a terrible place only accessible through the magic of Porte, but useful, nonetheless.  Brandt assured the others that he had been through the Walkways with Etienne before, but that did little to reassure them, except for Tamara, who was oddly more comfortable knowing that Etienne was using magic to accomplish their task.
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fntstory-blog · 7 years
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These Hallowed Halls (part I)
In which our heroes are welcomed back on solid earth. chapter i | chapter ii 
The next few weeks were spent navigating more familiar seas; the Numanari Approach took the Maiden and her crew around the tip of Vodacce and the Signore Islands and into the Widow’s Sea and past Castille and Montaigne. From there, she swung North from her Westerly bearings and passed through the Montaigne/Avalon Strait which would take her to Wandesborrow’s docks. The Ivory Maiden sailed at a fraction of her speed, the trip stretching into weeks upon weeks, for all the damage she had endured over the course of her far-flung travels. The crew undertook what repairs they could while at sea, working suspended from ropes and using small saws on rope and wood.
Haru, for his own duties, was put on light work to give him a chance to recover, and this last leg of their journey proved to be an idyllic time for conversing and spending time with Owen. He had begun to learn the names of the men, get to know how they lived and how they enjoyed time away from their backbreaking labor. Lord Berek sent letters with every ship that happened by and part of Haru’s work was to ferry the letters back and forth with Mr. Beckett. The small jollyboat was also put out to sea to allow him to learn more of sails, navigation, and seamanship; it was amazing how much Mr. Beckett knew, at such a tender age. The journey even left its marks upon the young lieutenant; his face and frame grew leaner and less youthful as he entered his teenage years. His face, too, had no shortage of acne and he sought Haru’s assistance in covering and ridding himself of the damn marks.
If Haru evoked fraternal feelings within Lannigan, he in turn treated young Beckett much the same outside of their lessons. The lieutenant’s unfortunate spots were treated with natural ingredients taken from the ship’s stores, Haru cursing the lack of green tea which he swore by. He passed along other pieces of knowledge, too, most dealing with personal grooming and care; he was determined to see Beckett pass from adolescence to manhood as gracefully as possible. (Though the art of shaving would have to be learned from someone else; Haru’s face remained youthfully smooth and he felt uncomfortable imparting what he knew of the practice as what he knew he gleaned from watching Hayes at his morning ablutions).
When not placed in near-constant mortal peril, Haru found that life on the Ivory Maiden was quite … comfortable wasn’t quite the word, as the cramped quarters were just that, and enjoyable didn’t fully fit, either, but there was something to be said for the rhythm he finally settled into. Mr. Beckett proved an invaluable teacher and Haru an eager student; the pair might have presented an unlikely, even comical, picture, but that he came into his nautical own in these weeks spoke volumes to the young lieutenant’s ability.
While his days were spent in the company of Beckett and the crew, and with each passing day Haru found himself liking these rough yet honest men more and more, his evenings were devoted to languid hours with Owen and posing ever more questions to Berek during their dinners. Being so close to Avalon, Haru’s curiosity about the place only grew and nearly everyone on the ship was subject to a seeming unending barrage of questions on customs and beliefs, people and places, history and myth. Hayes’ collective of books were voraciously devoured leading the captain to believe his lover never actually slept.
What struck him the most in these weeks, however, was the truth in the adage of things staying the same despite changing. While he gained nautical knowledge and became more comfortable amongst his Thean shipmates, he retained much of his old ways. His hair stayed long, though by now white was giving way to natural jet black, and on the rare occasion he wore shoes he stuck with the familiar wooden sandals he had come on board with. He still practiced his religion, praying in his room and leaving small offerings to kami and Goodly Folk alike. And though his duties were light, the daily exercise saw lean muscle developing on his slender frame; when he did finally catch his own reflection, Haru was struck by how closely he resembled his brother.
When word came that they would be putting into port and allowed off ship Haru went into a near-frenzy, picking through what few garments he had in his possession. Not since his days attending his daimyo’s court had he put so much thought into what to wear; his fretting might have been a point of mockery, but this would be his first time stepping foot on his new homeland and he wanted desperately to present as perfect a picture as he could. That inborn Crane pride and vanity demanded nothing less.
Forgoing his well-worn wear, he retrieved his remaining secondary kimono from its chest (the formal silk was given a longing look before being discounted; it wasn’t made for traipsing through town) and donned along all the accompanying accoutrements. A lacquered comb, rarely used of late, was run through ombre locks, detangling and smoothing the unruly mess which was left, for now, loose. Over this distinctly Rokugani garb went a Thean jacket, a cast-off that had been tailored to better fit, while his wakizashi was tucked into the obi at his waist. It surprised Haru how odd it felt to be wearing the blade once more after going so long without it.
It was an unusual look, to be sure, but it best represented the transplanted Rokugani.
Orderly lines marched off the ship as the lieutenants unleashed the sailors upon the town. Haru set foot on a stone port for the first time in what seemed liked ages, joined by Mr. Beckett. Stepping from gangplank to solid earth, he was surprised by how unnatural the ground felt to legs and feet now long accustomed to the constant rocking of a ship. Though he had Beckett as company, he hung slightly back, waiting for Owen but also to give himself a few moment’s time to take in the alien sights and sounds and smells of an Avalonian port town.
It was, perhaps, fated that a small voice would cry, “Oi, lads! Lookit that foreign lady!” A small crowd of gawkers appeared, with a smallish dock lad pointing at Haru with an outstretched finger, snaggle-toothed mouth open in a gape.
The urchin and his assembled cronies were met with an indignant look from Haru, though he refrained from comment. He just arrived, after all, and he didn’t want to devote any more time or attention to this unexpected bit of rudeness than was absolutely necessary. Instead, he cast a glance about his immediate surroundings, taking in as much as he could.
Of the most interest were the people, but only because there were so many of them. Sailors, merchants, laborers and lords, Haru watched them all, taking in the differences in their clothing and carriage. Beckett, being close by, was questioned mercilessly about the choices passing strangers made and what it all meant. A Swordsman made a particularly strong impression as he had become quite taken with the notion of Thean dueling thanks to the more romantically-tinged adventure novels in Owen’s collection. He knew little of fighting with a cutlass from seeing Owen in action and his lessons with Beckett, but he longed to see another style especially as demonstrated by a master.
As interesting as the mixing of classes was (and how it boggled his mind that the men he took for lords were not given a wide berth as they passed through crowds) the sight of his first Avalonian woman proved downright shocking. In Rokugan, women’s dress covered them from throat to ankle, with geisha only revealing the back of the neck in a show of subtle eroticism. Here, the entire female form was on display for all to see. Small waists flared into wide hips which gave him enough pause as he tried to work out how this was possible, while throats and the tops of swelling breasts could plainly be seen despite heavy cloaks and capes and, indeed, were the focus of fashion and attention. Curls framed painted faces, the Avalonian fashion favored reddened cheeks and lips he saw, though many ladies carried parasols to protect delicate complexions from the winter’s weak sun.
“Do all Thean women look like this?” He quietly asked Beckett, as if the boy was an expert on the subject.
Beckett flushed and shrugged a shoulder. “Well, that, err, is to say, Mr. Haru, that … I suppose it’s the case?” He offered, looking up to Owen as the captain joined them. He had been the last off the ship, as was custom.
“Not all Thean women,” Owen replied, saving his lieutenant from himself. “There are subtle differences, of course, from place to place and woman to woman.” He gave Haru and Edward a crooked, conspiratorial grin “Well, shipmates, shall we find something to eat?”
Beckett offered a quick nod. “Aye, captain, and right away, I should think!”
“Let’s take the long way, shall we, Haru?” Owen suggested, fully intending to tour through the market. Haru fell into step beside the captain and almost immediately fell behind, his attention diverted by a particularly interesting passing pair. Besides the people, now that they were in the market proper, there were stalls and criers to contend with; Haru seemed intent on stopping at nearly every single one, eyes greedily taking in all to be seen.
His neck craned to see a selection of brightly colored fabrics as they wound their way through the market then, again, to catch a display of kettles and teacups and saucers. So distracted was he by, well, everything, that he found himself rather rudely jostled back as he accidentally ran into the broad-backed fellow before him. Looking ahead, now, all he could make out was a frustratingly large and immobile crowd. Another observation he had been quick to make: By Avalonian standards he was rather short.
Still, despite the mass of people, Haru’s eyes found the Swordsman once more and, now, he took in the brightly colored tabbard he wore over his clothes and the small buckler on one arm. So distracted, he was surprised to find himself surrounded by a ring of people who had taken to staring at him. His appearance had begun to create a buzz through the crowd, beginning with the stalls he had stopped at and moving along, following him unseen like one of the kami. Now, it swirled about him, a sea of wide eyes and gaping mouths and hushed voices pierced by the occasional loudly spoken comment or question. The situation was an uncomfortable one and he quickly cast about for an exit.
Beckett straightened in indignation as more snippets of conversation marking Haru as a very striking woman reached his ears. “Mr. Haru, these bloody idiots think you’re - you’re …!” He seemed ready to take a step forward, though Owen’s hand clapped on his shoulder stopping him.
“I’m sure Mr. Haru can handle his own affairs, lieutenant,” Owen cautioned; he had taken in the size (and easily swayed mood) of the crowd, too.
Beckett seemed to want to protest, but he finally nodded, defeated. “Aye, sir.”
Owen gave his younger shipmate an approving smile, then pointed over the crowds to a sign hanging on a wooden post: The Old Bull. “Seems we’ve arrived. Make way, please!” He called in his captain’s voice, causing the crowd to instinctively part for the trio. Beckett kicked the shin of one of the men who’d been speaking a bit too loudly, sending the man howling and hopping back to disappear behind the crowd.
Ignoring those closest to him, though it was a difficult and trying thing, Haru summoned every once of Rokugani bushido bravado he could and pushed his way through the crowd, one hand resting on the hilt of the wakizashi at his side. More than one person gasped and grunted in surprised disapproval and he heard a few variations of ‘foreign bitch’ thrown his way. And though it was sorely tempting, he said nothing to set anyone aright regarding his gender; doing so would keep them rooted to one spot for an eternity and Haru would rather spend that time taking in more of the sights with his lover and friend.
Thankfully, the crowd didn’t follow them inside. Of course, Haru was made uncomfortable yet again as, upon entering the tavern, the music went through a lilt as people gaped at him for a moment, before slowly turning back to their drinks, food, or fiddle playing.
“I see we’ve been beaten here,” Hayes remarked dryly, nodding to Doctor MacMorgan, already drowsing in a corner set, several mugs stacked and tilted down in front of him.
Looking to where Hayes gestured, Haru suppressed a laugh. “Perhaps we should leave him,” he said, his voice low, “I had thought I escaped his awful playing when we left the ship …”
“If you were dismayed at his playing, I’m not certain what you’d think of his singing voice.”
Haru pulled a grimace, showing what he thought of the prospect. Thankfully, Doctor MacMorgan seemed more suited to drowse in the corner of the establishment. He painted the picture of a large slumbering bear, projecting a feeling of ease in his closed eyes and crossed arms.
Hayes found a quiet table to sit at and called for a bill of fare, which a serving girl brought over. She was roughly the same age as Beckett, though a touch taller and smooth-skinned, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed and no doubt a sight for Edward’s sore eyes. He busied himself with trying to look impressive and well-mannered.
Owen looked over the tavern’s fare, finger tapping his chin thoughtfully as he rattled off the local dishes. “Roast potatoes and lamb … beef and leeks … even Whistwick puddings!” He peered over at Haru with a half grin. “Shall we order them all, so you can try them?”
Haru recognized some of the dishes being rattled off, most of the fare was a mystery, albeit a tantalizing one; he was incredibly curious about Avalon’s cuisine when divorced of the confines of one of Her Majesty’s ships. Surely, no weevils would be found in the bread in what he assumed to be a respectable establishment. He nodded to Hayes’ suggestion, though a sly smile accompanied the gesture. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were trying to fatten me up with all this food …”
Owen laughed, returning the sly smile. “You’re still rail thin, Haru, and after what we’ve been through, some rich food will benefit us all. Or perhaps I’m letting Avalon’s cuisine entice you even further.”
“I’ll place the order, sir!” Beckett eagerly supplied, nearly jumping from his seat.
Hayes laughed and waved the boy along, “Right, off you go to your fair maiden.”
Beckett flushed. “I … I just wanted to make certain everything befits the captain of the Ivory Maiden.”
“Quite, good Mr. Beckett, quite,” came the captain’s wry retort. He removed his hat, balancing it on one knee, and ran a hand through his hair to brush it back. Beckett nodded and strode to the bar. Once Edward was there, and fully engaged with the serving girl, Owen sighed wistfully and placed a hand over Haru’s. “I’m not ready for him to get any older, Haru.”
Haru’s eyes followed Beckett as he made his way to the bar and commenced in an innocent fliration with the girl. Though not very many years separated them in age, he found himself looking on the scene with a bit of wistful nostalgia; to be so young and just discovering oneself and love … Hayes’ hand on his own brought his mind and attention back to the present. Placing his free hand atop the captain’s, he gave him a reassuring smile.
“You sound like a wistful parent … Our Mr. Beckett won’t remain a child forever, but he’s had an excellent mentor and role model in you, Owen. He’ll be a fine young man to make anyone proud.”
“I hope so. The navy is a brutal profession, despite all our pomp and circumstance. Sometimes I wish Beckett’s parents had steered him into politics or …” He stopped, smiling and shaking his head. “But wishes are nothing but phantoms, aren’t they? The Beckett we have now is still a dear friend of mine … and I’m entitled to mourn the passing of his youth.”
Beckett returned, assisting the giggling serving girl with a large platter of bread, hard cheese, and beer. Apparently this would be a dining style much like Jeremiah Berek preferred, one in multiple courses. Haru was relieved, however, that the use of a fork and knife seemed to only be a suggestion.
In mixed company once more, Haru carefully extracted his hand from Owen’s and assisted in the passing around and placement of dishes and mugs. Owen did the same declaring, “Now here’s a proper feast!” He gave Beckett and the young miss a grateful smile; she missed it, all her attention on the young lieutenant. She remained thusly enthralled even after she returned to the bar.
Everything smelled wonderful, Haru was pleased to note, and as the three tucked in, he looked to Beckett.
“Will you be visiting your family while we’re in port?” Owen’s earlier comment had sparked a thought and that was that Haru knew next to nothing about the lieutenant’s life outside of the ship they shared. “Or has your young lady taken all your attention?” This was said with an affectionate, mild teasing. “She is very pretty, after all …”
“Hm?” Beckett was distracted, but quickly recovered. “Oh, well, no. My family’s estate is outside of Carleon. I’ll visit them after we’re done with the admiralty.” He flushed bright red and Owen chuckled, hiding a grin behind a soft roll. “She — she probably sees ten better than me every moment, Mr. Haru. Besides, my father would never approve …”
Owen’s grin faded slowly and he tilted his head. “Lord Beckett isn’t *here*, Edward. Talk to her.”
“I know something of dispproving fathers, Beckett-san,” Haru said, gently, “And I can give you this advice: Your father need not know every detail of your life. Talk to the girl, take what happiness that comes to you when it comes without question. And do not doubt yourself so; she’s casting eyes only at you.”
Beckett took in the advice, poking and prodding thoughtfully at the food before him, before he asked them both in a whisper, “Should I — should I ask her to dance?”
Owen smiled. “That would be a good start, Mr. Beckett. Here.” He dug into his pocket and came out with a shilling, handing it over to the young lieutenant. “For the fiddler,” he explained.
Beckett beamed at him. “Thank you, sir, Mr. Haru.” He nodded to them both, almost tripping his gawky legs over the bench in his hurry.
Of everything that had been prepared and was laid before him, Haru’s favorite remained the simple, soft rolls. The other fare, while delicious, was still too rich and heavy for his taste (and stomach) and, Owen’s comment on his thinness notwithstanding, he had no desire to put on an abundance of excess weight. With an air of grace, he buttered one of the rolls, his skill in handling knives and forks much improved, and directed a question to Hayes.
“Do you ever wish your father had … dissuaded you from joining the navy?” The topic was carefully broached; for all his traveling ‘round the world to be with the man he loved, he knew precious little of Owen’s background and family.
“My father and mother …” Hayes began, taking a moment to dab a napkin at his mouth, “They let me explore. I didn’t join the navy on their insistence. I was only a boy when they were lost at sea. My uncle moved in after that and stands currently at the manor. He wanted me to join the army, I think. But I wanted to understand the thing that took my parents. He never truly agreed with my appointment in the navy.” There was a pain in his eyes, but it was a scar, not a fresh wound. “I’d have made a terrible soldier, all that marching …” A lopsided smirk crossed his face.
Looking up, he met and held Hayes’ eyes, one hand coming to rest briefly against a rough cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss, truly. And just as truly, I’m glad you went to sea …”
“Such things happen, Haru, beyond anyone’s control … but thank you. I’m glad that I was swept along to Rokugan.”
Both had more to say, but the sound of a fiddle interrupted, turning their attention from conversation to what passed for a dance floor in the tavern. Haru had heard some fiddling aboard the Ivory Maiden, from what he could gather the Innish were particularly fond of the instrument, and he much preferred its sounds to the doctor’s contraption. The dancing, however, was completely new to his eyes. Again, on the ship, he had seen singular jigs performed, but never had he seen a couple moving in time to music. In Rokugan, there was no concept of social dance; it was a performing art, reserved for theater or a geisha’s skilled entertainment, and never done with as much earnestness as Beckett and his lady displayed.
The unfolding scene soon brought a smile back to Haru’s lips and, with a touch more enthusiasm than previously shown, he sampled all the foodstuffs that mysteriously made its way onto his plate.
Hayes smiled warmly, thumping his foot on the floor in time to the tune and, suddenly, the entire inn was doing the same. There was something liberating about the closeness of it all, none of the silent pretense of a Rokugani theater, each person a different, solitary mind. This was a riot of good will, people hopping up to join in the dance, laughing.
On a whim, Hayes took Haru by the arm, tugging him up and out of his seat. “Let’s join them, come on!” He said encouragingly, all smiles and good cheer.
Haru squawked slightly in surprise. He would have been content to sit and act as a silent observer; for as inviting as it all seemed, a part of him clung to Rokugani ideals of reservation and decorum. And though he remembered the captain’s boast of being an excellent dancer, he hadn’t thought the man would have them both join the crowd. “Owen, I don’t know if this is a good idea …”
“It’s a terrible idea!” Owen conceded, still grinning widely and leading Haru to where the fiddler continued his playing. “It’s no different than those kah-tahs that Ishoya used to perform,” he said, trying to assure his lover’s worries.
Haru doubted that the dance was anything like Ishoya’s katas, but he kept this to himself. His wooden sandals clopped on the slotted floor, marking a different time than the heavy leather soles on everyone else’s feet. Coming to the edge of the crowd, he cast a somewhat nervous glance at the spinning, stepping pairs. Up close, the movements that had seemed so simple now looked incomprehensible, feet flashing too fast for him to make sense of anything. Looking up at Owen, he said, “I hope you have as much faith in your teaching skills as you do in your dancing, Captain Hayes …”
“I need none of that, Haru, I’ve faith in *you.*” Hayes took his hand, pressing their palms together, his other hand resting at Haru’s waist. The movements that followed were obviously meant for flat-heeled shoes and not sandals, but the pattern behind them began to emerge. This wasn’t courtly dance, it was something done by the peasantry and, thus, it was easier than a nobleman’s affair. Still, Hayes knew the steps well and imparted them with impressive ease. Owen had patience and seemed to know where Haru would snarl the steps and he helped him untangle his feet time after time before the movements became natural.
At first, Haru kept his eyes glued to the floor, trying to mimic the steps Hayes so effortlessly made. It was a slow and, at times, frustrating, process, punctuated with repeated sheepish utterings of “Sorry” and “Gomen” as he accidentally stepped on toes or bumped into another body. However, with enough repetition and warm encouragement from Hayes, he did eventually pick up on the thing. Not for the first time, he marveled at how freeing it was, to be in a place, and amongst a group of people, that had no concept of Face or the rigid social structures of Rokugan. He was free to make mistakes, learn from them, even laugh at his own bumbling.
Owen’s hand at the small of his back, the closeness of their bodies, at times pressed closer if an over-eager pair spun too wide, this, too, was an exhilarating, freeing thing.
“Here’s the fun bit …” Hayes grinned wickedly, taking both of Haru’s hands and stepping back, forming a peak as Beckett and his lady danced through the bridge of arms with a few shouts of joy from the assembled dancers. Out of the corner of his eye, Haru saw Doctor MacMorgan come to life, sitting up and fetching his awful concertina to stand at the fiddler’s shoulder. Both instruments seemed to be made to function in league with each other and the box didn’t sound quite so terrible. Eventually, it was Hayes and Haru’s turn to rush under the expanse of arms, though they had to duck lower to it through Beckett and his companion’s bridge. Once they ended their travel, the song began to die down and people applauded each other and the fiddler.
Haru was approached several times for a shake of hands as they mingled freely with the patrons of the tavern and, after a while, he began to feel more comfortable and he was fairly sure that at least in this place people had caught on that he was indeed a man. They were curious, of course, asking question after question, which Haru answered graciously. He felt less pressed by this group than he had by the crowd in the market. His accounts of Rokugan, and his journey to Avalon, were heavily edited, but he did not leave out the high regard he held for the crew, to a man, of the Ivory Maiden.
After some time, Hayes appeared and Haru apologized for leaving so much unanswered, though he doubted he could answer every question put to him (and in this moment he felt a pang of sympathy for what he must have put Lord Berek through). He followed Hayes and Beckett back to their table and reclaimed his abandoned seat. Picking up his mug of beer, he smiled over the brim of it at Beckett, saying, “You’re positively beaming, Beckett-san. Having a sweetheart suits you …”
Beckett smiled, his face a-glow, and sighed dreamily, “Her name is Annie …”
Owen shared a clandestine smile with Haru at their love-struck’s friend expense. “Well done, Beckett,” he remarked, settling back against the wooden wall of the tavern. Haru had a feeling they would be hearing much of Annie and her various charms in the coming days and weeks.
The music eventually died down, with the fiddler making his rounds and accepting a pittance of coins from each table. Doctor MacMorgan chastised those who didn’t loosen their pursestrings sufficiently and, once the fiddler made his exit, he joined Hayes and Haru and Beckett at their table.
“Ah, gentlemen, what a wondrous afternoon it was. Hopefully the night will be just as lovely.” He eyed Haru with a chuckle. “And you, Mr. Haru! Did you enjoy the little tune we played? The Handmaiden’s Basket it was called; one of the very first songs I did learn on my poor concertina.”
“I did, indeed, doctor!” Haru said, speaking honestly for once on the man’s playing. “Your concertina plays much better on land … The fiddle complimented it beautifully.”
“Yes, yes, but I was told of a good fellow who will look at it … If, that is, we’ll be staying in port until the next noon?” MacMorgan eyed Hayes seriously, pulling down his glasses a hair.
Hayes laughed, nodding. “We’ll take on supplies and we’ve a mizzenmast that needs to be fixed. It should keep us busy a few days before we depart for Carleon.”
MacMorgan thumped a fist on the table. “Brilliant! I’ll obtain a surgeon for my concertina and perhaps inquire about some fresh medical supplies of my own …”
“What are the day’s remaining plans?” Haru asked, glancing about at his companions. “Will we see more of the city?” He tried not to sound overly eager, but it was plain he desired to see as much as possible of this new place.
“We’re free of duty for the time, Mr. Haru,” Hayes answered. “I should get a letter to my uncle while I’m in port.” His tone gave away the fact that this task wasn’t one he much relished the thought of.
Beckett cleared his throat. “Annie will be showing me the sights, so I’m afraid I’ll be indisposed …”
Doctor MacMorgan shook with laughter. “Oh, go on, ye young rogue!” Beckett turned scarlet from his collar to his ears.
Haru weighed his options, teeth catching and worrying at the inside of one cheek; he wasn’t ready to retire just yet, but the prospect of exploring on his own raised some internal concerns. Still, if he didn’t stray too terribly far he should be safe enough …
“I think I’ll strike out on my own,” he said with a decisive nod. “There’s still so much more to see and I would rather not waste the opportunity by going to bed early and alone …” That this course of action would change if Owen were retiring as well would not be missed by the captain.
“I’ll be careful,” he continued, warding off any words of friendly warning. “Though … Should I return here or to the ship? I have no money to pay for a room and it’s been explained I can hardly demand free boarding …” He felt more than a little silly asking the question; surely, the answer was an obvious thing to his more seasoned companions.
“If that’s what you decide, Mr. Haru.” Owen smiled and nodded and he got the feeling that the captain would probably come along once his duties were seen to. “I’ll book the officers’ rooms here in the Old Bull. If you’d like, Haru, you can return here.”
Doctor MacMorgan scoffed. “A crime! Captain, to send a sailor into the city with not even a shilling to his name? For *shame*!” He dug into his coat, producing a few large silver coins. “I’ll donate to this poor man’s warchest!” He slid the coins over to Haru. Mr. Beckett smiled and produced coins as well, followed by Owen.
“My tyrant’s hand, shown to be false, I suppose,” Owen drawled dryly, casting a sidelong glance to Haru.
The small pile of silver in front of Haru wasn’t much, but it was enough to enjoy himself, certainly. He balked, initially, at his companions’ generosity, but finally accepted the coins with a deep, albeit seated, bow. It felt strange, rude, to accept the gift upon its presentation, but he had learned that this was the Thean way of doing things. Early in his and Owen’s romance, the Avalonian had given him a small token and his initial refusal of it had lead to a gross misunderstanding and hurt feelings that had taken days to soothe.
“Domo arigatou gozaimashita,” he said, slipping into the formal words of his native tongue. “Thank you very much, I am greatly humbled by your generosity …” The Avalonian words didn’t seem, to his ears, to convey just how grateful he was. With great care the coins were collected, Hayes explaining each one’s worth, and placed in some secret pocket in the interior of his kimono; Haru knew enough to not carry money in the easily picked pockets of his jacket.
“Think nothing of it,” Doctor MacMorgan assured him, as the trio made their goodbyes.
Owen smiled and nodded. “Perhaps I’ll see if I can find you once the doctor and I have our discussion.”
MacMorgan held up a finger, “… about that advance … the concertina, you see …”
Beckett quickly weasled his way away from the table, disappearing among the tavern’s crowds to be with Annie.
Leaving the others to their own devices, Haru bid them farewell, thanking them again for the gifted money, and made his way out of the Bull to the streets beyond its front door. Looking down the way they had come, through the main vein of the marketplace, he could recall the route that took them from ship to cobbled shore. It was an enticing thought, to revisit the market, but more appealing was the prospect of streets yet unseen. Heading in the opposite direction, then, he set out to see what else the port town had to offer.
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Counting the Days
Day 1 - I wake up and go about my day as usual. Everything is normal, feelings and emotions in check. Distracted by all of the things I have to accomplish, my to do list, I go to sleep.
Night 1 - Tossing and turning, I wake up with an abrupt jolt. It's 4:17, about two hours before my alarm and plenty of time to go back to sleep. I turn over, close my eyes waiting for sleep to only be awoken by my alarm.
Day 2, Morning - In the shower, I ponder why I awoke in the middle of the night. I never wake up until morning. I conclude it is all result of stressors from the to do list, not even considering the feelings I confessed to.
Day 2, Afternoon - I am panicked, running around at a snail’s pace, so productive and have accomplished one thing.
Night 2 - It's 4:12 this time. So, is this a trend now? Am I just going to lose sleep because of assignments?!
Day 3, Morning - I wake up energetic, but leave the shower drained, strange...I feel like I have been stuffed into some container, surrounded. Floating but unable to move, bend, stretch, I am dazed and confused. sorry
Day 3, Afternoon - I avoid feelings like one avoids the plague. Emotions seek me out as of I'm an internationally renowned felon. I run from emotions as if they are a captor. I acknowledged my feelings then, it should have been done by now. This is just another 15-second crush. Oh, it's not? Well fine, feelings, here is your two-hour eviction notice.
Day 3, Evening - He's everywhere, in my thoughts, right beside me, across the room. His name escaped your lips. That reminds me of him. He's everywhere and I can't escape. If I can escape then I'll hide like the unwelcome relative from my nightmares. I will hide until my feelings are gone and practice pretending they aren't there. So why do I keep telling everyone about my feelings?
Night 3
Day 4, Morning - I slept through the night! And, I didn't dream about him, or wanting to hide from my feelings, and I haven't thought about him...oh wait.
Day 7, Evening - “You just need to lift him and your feelings up, saturate them in prayer,” says a wide counselor. The last thing I wanted to do is think about him more, why would I pray about him more?! Fine, whatever.
Day 8, Morning - Prayer actually helped!
Day 17 - Prayer is so helpful; praise be to God and God alone!
Day 23 - I feel stuck again, unable to move, breathe, think...Suffocated by millions of thoughts passing on the big screen in my head, I panic and the only thing I can do is hide, pray; definitely, pray, not hide.
Day 37, Afternoon - Why can't he see me for what I truly am? I can't superimpose my feelings into him. Why doesn't he care enough to respond to my texts? He's busy and had an interview. Does he have feelings for me too or is there someone else, what if he's going through the same thing? What if he's not, what if he, what if!
Day 58, Evening
I'm exhausted, I give up, Lord, it's all Yours; I'm done. Do something please! I want to crave Hou and only You. Can I just have singleness without a crush on my dear brother? Either, my friend, the person I can see myself surrendering to, a man who love You, a man who drives me toward you? I see what you did there, it's not cute and to be candid it's downright annoying.
Day 103, Late Evening - “Give yourself grace,” says my wise counselor, “it's only been four days.” Four days?! It can't be it's...only four days. But four days is more than enough time--Lazarus was raised from the dead, Jesus rose from the grave. But, I’m not dead, my body isn’t deteriorating without life flowing trhough it. I am alive, restored even and unfortunately being challeneged on a faith level.
Night 103 - As I awake at 5:46, two hours before my internal alar, I hope for sleep and for all of this to be finished, but emotions seem to not run on the same clock the world runs on. God doesn’t run on the same clock the world runs on.
Day 104, Morning - Tired and raw, I turn to a sermon for comfort and it does not satisfy. Breakfast, white noise does not satisfy. Fortunately and unfortunately God is the only One that satisfies. So I sit,, in my feelings, waiting for the Creator of the heavens and earth, man and beast, to work becase if this is where I am to be them there’s no place I’d rather be thean here waiting for a tangiable outpouring of His most perfect, fulfilling love to free me from the chains that I cling to.
Day 206
Day 357
Day 492
Day 1,876 - I count the days waiting, hoping, seeking, asking for His sweet sustainance to fill in my gaps.
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Together and apart is such a sad title in a way, really shown in this chapter 🥰 they are apart in so many ways (physically and kind of emotionally), but all they want to be is together 😭 When Solara says she is revoking her titles, does she mean her place in the council AND her noble title, or just one? I got a little confused about hat. like the queen said, she can hardly take the nobility out of herself anymore, esp since she is so known & popular in both nations 😅
It is, there's that duality that can be so ... bittersweet in a way, because they are together, but miles and miles apart in a lot of ways as you pointed out!
Essentially it'd be both, because her position (as noble) gives her a position in the Council, even if she wouldn't get to have a vote in this matter. The system works essentially so that the Extended Council (with the heirs to each of their respective houses) get to hear about the situation and discuss, which allows them to bring up their opinion and views, and thus potentially affect the outcome. But. They (The First Born kids, or heirs) don't participate into the session where they (The Council) votes. It's a ... well not dumb, but not unsolvable practice that comes from the scenario of there being unequal amount of participants in each House.
As in, let's say that one House doesn't have heirs to their name, then they would have one less vote to cast than the rest, who would all have an heir, and that would put them at disadvantage. And since it's generally considered that all members of each House would vote in a similar fashion, it can drive a wedge between people and Houses.
Of course that doesn't always happen, and since each House does have an heir, it's... it doesn't really matter. It's just a practice and a clause that exists, which Theans follow.
However, what Solara is concerned, even if she wouldn't have a vote in the outcome, is her very position in the Council (or the Extended Council) and nobility. She's thinking that if she revokes her titles, she'd be taking away one political factor, and ... possibly would give a fresh start for the alliance now that the Council, as they would then stand after her resignation; allowing them to "work without her influence". Or. Then she could just marry Fue and not have to care for the alliance.
I don't know if I'm making sense with that paragraph 😅
But what it boils down is her blaming herself in how it's going down, and thinking that if she would not be nobility, then there would be a lot more options. Which isn't the case, and which is being told to her again and again.
Plus she has a position in Thea that technically isn't that easily transferred to another. Though Lena could take over, it would stir things a bit, which isn't the best possible outcome during the times they live. And Lena has been allowed to do her own thing for years, which means that she's not up to date with... as much as Lara is, so it'd be (transferring that position) would be a tricky move at best.
So... again, as you said, she can't really take her position and influence away from the situation. Because what has happened, has happened, and people will remember it.
I hope I answered your questions!
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keptin-indy · 7 years
Text
7th Sea: The New World 3
Piracy!  Betrayal!  Blood!  Exotic fruits!  [Bluebooking!]
Previous installments
All the Duelists boarded the enemy ship (Ansgar by swinging over on his retractable chain).  Etienne was easily overlooked in the melee and crept up on the captain to stab him from behind.  Mariandl, watching from the Dream, noted the other officers all had mundane prosthetic limbs of their own and one of them seemed to be quite new to his peg leg judging by his iffy balance.  She called this weakness across to Misha, who promptly kicked the man right in the peg, knocking him into another officer.  Ansgar swung himself into the third officer, nearly pulling down the spar he had hooked onto, which sent the crew under it running for cover.  Stortebeker spun around to backhand Etienne with his armoured fist, but the blow connected only lightly, and Tamara stepped in to fight him captain-to-captain.  Stortebeker retrieved the sword Brandt had forced him to drop only for Gwendolyn to immediately shoot it out of his hand and into the ocean.  Misha punched the last standing officer in the face while the crowd of panicking seamen stampeded over one of the unfortunate officers on the ground and the other officer reconsidered his life choices.  Brandt lightly ran up the fallen yardarm after Stortebeker and pitted his sword against the captain’s panzerhand.  The first mate finally managed to get to his feet only to be tackled right back down by Ansgar and the second mate doggedly continued trying to punch at Misha’s tree-trunk of a leg to no effect.  Tamara shot a bolt of lightning from her hand at Stortebeker, pushing him off the side of the ship as he cursed them all to the Devil Jonah.  In the water, he bit one of his own fingers off as a sacrificed and called to Jonah to save him.  A swift current picked up, taking him away from the boat, but not before Brandt drew a bead on him with a pistol, hitting him in the head as he floated off with a bloody wake, apparently dead.  One of the officers managed to pull Ansgar down with him, but didn’t factor in the heavy metal contraption on his back and was subsequently crushed by his success.  Etienne struck the ship’s colours and Tamara declared a general amnesty for any crew who cared to join her.  The first mate threw down his sword and declared he wouldn’t die for a captain who’d abandoned them, but the other remaining officer spat at Gwendolyn in disdain and carried on fighting until the first mate himself kicked the man’s sword away and told him to be sensible.  The first mate introduced himself as Hans and asked who he should offer his sword to.  He was pointed to Tamara and asked her what would become of them now.  She told him it would depend on the crimes they had committed, and he told her that they used to be proud Eisen privateers until the captain had gone mad when the Imperator had committed suicide and he had begun sacrificing to the Devil Jonah - first his own body parts, then unwilling crew members’.  Tamara offered places to any of the regular crew, but put the officers in ransom quarters to await “pirate court” in Aragosta.  Brandt asked if he could claim the ship for the Avalonian Navy, which Tamara didn’t mind so long as she was paid for its capture.  Tamara also took the captured flag to the maindeck of her ship, where several others were arranged as a trophy hall where the crew messed.
With a prize crew following in the Eisen ship, Tamara asked Gwendolyn which route into the Atabean she wished to take.  Gwendolyn called in Khofi to direct them and he said that the location of the island changed, but he expected it to be somewhere in the southern region at the moment.  Mariandl thought this sounded suspicious and accused him of trying to get himself to that area rather than actually finding the island.  Khofi conceded that he had never been to Soryana himself, but insisted that he spoke with spirits who had told him the way.  With his story getting thinner and thinner, Gwendolyn demanded he tell her the truth; he knew how much this quest meant to her and she backed this up by transforming her face again.  Caught out, Khofi admitted that he was not a Seeker of Soryana, but instead worked for the Jaraguan government and needed to get them vital information about the Atabean Trading Company.  Gwendolyn asked why he couldn’t just have told her that and Khofi said that his time in Theah had led him to believe that no Thean sympathized with the plight of the Jaraguans in their fight against the ATC, which was, after all, a Thean company.  He’d since seen that Lady Gwendolyn and her party were good people willing to help even a troll like Inge, but by then it was already too late to back out of his lie.  He promised, however, that he knew people who could get them to Soryana if they would take him to Jaragua.  Gwnedolyn and her escorts debated whether they could trust Khofi at all, especially given the rumours of the Jaraguan government pirating passing ships of any nation, but Khofi insisted that was propaganda spread by the ATC, who was illegally enslaving his people and trying to cover it up by isolating them from the rest of the world.  Ansgar said that sounded plausible for the founder of the ATC, George Rourke, who had managed to get himself kicked out of the Vendel League for being too unethical even for them.  Tamara also said that the Brotherhood of the Coast made it a point to take ATC ships purely because they disliked Rourke so much.  While this debate continued, Etienne slipped out of the room and into Khofi’s cabin, carefully looking through his papers for anything that might shed light on the matter.  He found only financial papers related to the ATC, which he took notes on, but considered the briefcase they were inside to be more important for his purposes.  He rolled up one of his sleeves and made a small cut on his arm, using the blood to draw a small mark where it wouldn’t be noticed, then carefully replaced everything to where he had found it and rejoined the conversation in the main cabin with none the wiser.  Tamara had come back to the question of routes and suggested that they put in at Aragosta in the northwest because their other options were riskier, including going south to Jaragua.  Khofi was no longer asking to be taken home, still not entirely sure he was escaping the ship with his life and doing his best to avoid further offending anyone.  Brandt asked if he had any exciting stories from his homeland and Khofi told him about the time he’d pretended to be a slave to sneak onto a plantation to pass information about an uprising.  Brandt told him that was less exciting and more awful and Khofi responded that all the stories out of Jaragua were horrific thanks to the ATC.  Brandt pointed out that slavery was illegal in all the countries of Theah, but Khofi told him the ATC practiced it anyway.  He’d been sent to Theah as a diplomat to try and secure support for their cause of freedom, but he’d found the Theans too poisoned by Rourke’s lies or blinded by his profits.  Brandt promised that he would help when the time came.
In the remaining time at sea, Inge gave Brandt a rune for defending him from the seafoam wolves on the island and told him that it might be magic, but he wasn’t sure.  In return, Brandt made him a pocketwatch that chimed shortly before sunrise to warn him to get to cover.  Unrelatedly, Brandt also asked to look at Ansgar’s winch apparatus, as he wanted to design something similar, but when he found that the winch was slow to retract, he set about designing a different version for his own purposes.  Misha, Brandt, and some of the crewmen started a fairly brutal boxing club, though all in good humour.  Several friendly ships approached, drawn in by Stortebeker’s ship following the Dream sedately, and all were overjoyed to hear that the mad pirate had finally been taken down.  [Brandt brought a bottle of brandy to Etienne’s cabin and asked what had happened to his wife.  Etienne told him how and why she had been killed and Brandt offered to help him take vengeance.  Etienne didn’t think direct vengeance would help unless it was against the man who had given the orders rather than the ones who had done the deed itself, and anyway, he’d been sent to the Atabean to remove him from the game.  Brandt insisted that when they got back, he would help Etienne in any way he could.]
Before reaching Aragosta, Tamara tried to explain the chaos that was the pirate “capital” of the Atabean Sea, warning them that it may or may not matter that they were officially under her protection as a Brotherhood captain.  No explanation could prepare them for the anarchy of the bay, however, and the ship was immediately beset by a local merchant boats, hawking their tropical wares over the side.  Etienne bought a pineapple, fascinated by the varieties of fruits he’d never even heard of before.  The shore was no less chaotic and the nominal dockmaster suggested they sell their extra ship at the Bucket of Blood, which Tamara explained to her passengers was the unlikely name of the Aragostan capitol.  This turned out to be a three story tavern which apparently hosted a pirate congress in addition to its normal trade, though it was hard to tell the two apart, if indeed there was a difference.  Tamara went about selling ship to a Highlander claiming to have ties to Avalon and turning over Stortebeker’s officers to Queen Bonaventura for trial, though she did put a word in for clemency.  After the mandatory celebration for reaching the Atabean in one peace, the others split up to explore the town while Tamara took care of the ship’s business in port, resupplying and giving the men leave with their prize money.  Misha stayed in the tavern and made friends via bar brawl, but his performance evidently caught the eye of a local big shot and he was firmly invited upstairs to meet the Queen herself.  He was escorted upstairs where a dashing middle-aged Castillian woman offered him a position on her crew, and when he said he was already employed, offered to buy out his contract.  When she heard that Misha’s employer was a noble, she requested he bring her by.  Misha found Gwendolyn exploring the city and brought her back with him (after explaining that he did not, in fact, want to leave the crew, he was just being polite) to Queen Bonaventura, who told Gwendolyn she had balls for coming to Aragosta and bought her a drink.  She asked Gwendolyn about the possibility of buying out Misha’s contract, but Gwendolyn declined, pointing out that they would be in port for several days, as Bonaventura’s interest in him seemed notably physical.  Gwendolyn also took the opportunity to ask about Soryana, but Bonaventura just wished her luck and said it was probably in ATC territory before turning her attention back to Misha.  Brant immediately started looking for traces of Captain Turnbull, the man who had marooned him on the island, but instead found some other sailors who had a beef with him.  After an initial misunderstanding about why exactly everyone was looking for him, they exchanged information and Brandt promised to punch Turnbull for the men once he caught him.  Mariandl asked around for more information about the ghosts of Soryana and found out that there were two kinds: ancestor spirits that were green and transparent, but otherwise acted like normal people, and mad, violent ghosts that possessed people.  She was referred to Ruhuri Captain Oka Rupsaree for more information on his people’s customs, but he told her that any Seeker she found would be unlikely to take foreigners to the holy island unless they had already gained the trust of a Cacique, the head of a village.  He couldn’t help her and suspected no one could, though he was deeply amused at her wide-eyed tourist curiosity.  Ansgar roamed the town sketching buildings and mapping out the streets and occasionally cooking one of the large native crabs.  He too received a summons from the Queen, this time because she had heard about his mapping efforts and wanted to make sure he didn’t draw their defenses too closely or accurately.  He promised her he would not, and further that he wouldn’t sell any of his maps to the ATC, but refused to sell them to her, either.  Etienne disappeared for the day without telling anyone his plans.
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