The Heart of the Matter

[rassafraggin]

The rum shipment from Midnight's stash has run out at the Cantina, so even despite the general relief over the animate storm not actively seeking to kill anyone lately, the general mood is still morose. At some point Merrisol hitched a ride down to have a real table to sit at, jotting notes onto a ledger acquired from the general store. There are a few empty bags fashioned from of fine fishing nets, hanging over the back of another chair.

The ride in question comes from Ryika who also brought her notebook and star charts to work on at an actual table. She stretches a little, working kinks out of her neck as she pauses to re-read over the apparently blank looking notebook. It's into that quiet when a seagull squawks its way in, a single blue feather upon it making it pretty clear to those who know where the bird came from. Ry retrives the message, glancing at it with a quirk of her brow.

Merri spies the gull and flinches, but blinks as it aims for Ryika. He looks at her curiously instead of keeping his attention on his own seatwork. "Everything alright in Rebma?"

Ryika can't help but laugh softly at Merri's flinch. "I am grateful to know I am not alone in that instinct." She comments and then nods. "Yes.. well.. yes. I think so. I might end up yoinked back to Rebma to play diplomat. Which makes me wonder what the hell's going on, but that's just my own curious nosy, rather than something actively being /wrong/. It's just a head's up for now. I will resist the urge to 'accidentally' drop my personal mirror in the harbour so that my staff can't find me easily."

Merrisol looks reassured and settles back again. "It's probably something," he says, smiling with a bit of sympathy, before the smirk takes over. "At least this time we can be sure it isn't something I've done that requires your Royal-whispering abilities." Mostly sure, anyway.

"Unless you are inviting Princes to the Rebman palace, I'm pretty sure this one isn't you." Ryika grins over at him and then tucks the message into her notebook, towards the back. "It's only a touch odd as Martin usually deals with Princes at the palace himself, rather than ask me to. He must be busy doing something." She gives a touch of a shrug, unconcerned and then looks to her star chart a moment before over to Merrisol. "Hopefully all of us can get back to the unending not normal that is our normal soon enough. I heard tidbits of the questions Quin posed last night."

Merrisol shakes his head absently, muttering, "More dance-contests through Shadow." He draws a neat box in the margin of the ledger and starts doodling complex geometrics into it. Glancing back up to meet her gaze, he nods. "Yes, some basics were established well enough that we now at least have something solid to build less dodgy speculation upon. Perhaps there'll be time for one more set of even more pointed questions, before we get to leg it. I believe we are on the verge of another fascinating discovery." He looks at her rather seriously as he gets towards the end, emphasizing the last few words.

"As long as he wins." Ryika quips in return to the mutter. She holds his gaze for a few moments and then nods in understanding. "I heard a lot of confirmations and not a lot of actively new information. Which is, in its own way, valid. I'm not expecting the slow and considered approach to appeal any more than it has already amongst some of our compatriots."

Merrisol mms. "You mean Ruby.. or Ruben.. or Ra-.." he blinks. There's a hell of a lot of R-names in their group, aren't there. "When it comes to Yes or No questions, there wouldn't be any new information unless we dreamed them up ourselves. I have another question to add.. 'are the small islands in shadow pieces of Minos', and I have an idea about how we may be able to expand our dialogue with the goddess.. but I'm not certain how well it will go over with the group," he grumbles. "There's a distinct lack of trust between members at this point."

"For once, we outnumber the M's." Ryika notes with a little grin at Merrisol's realization and then nods. "I don't think she'll know, but it's an interesting question to ask. Even simply to expand the knowledge of the lore of Minos." She mmms at the last and nods. "Yes. Some seeded by Stormy herself, some we've fostered inadvertantly.. some is not so much a lack of trust, as a growing frustration at inaction."

Merri eyes Ryika narrowly, "That way you have of not naming names, that's one of those diplomatic skills, isn't it.." He looks down and ruminates over his ledger page, which now contains a wandering fractal, but no new ideas. "I know how it's going to sound, but my idea involves getting that shell back from Quinlan," he sighs and scrubs his browline with his fingers tiredly. "He's busy digging for diamonds at the moment to even hear me out, so I'm going to take a page out of your 101 Things To Do While Trapped On Antika, and do some salvage diving as well." He nods towards the net bags on the other chair.

"It's a knack." Ryika notes with a flicker of a smile at Merri's narrowed eyes. "And, for the record, you are as good at it as I am." She waggles a finger at him in mock accusation. "It sounds less threatening from you than from some of the storm bloods she's already manipulated. I keep considering asking for it myself, but figure everyone else has more of a horse in this race than I do, so I'll not add my own complications into the mix." She leans back in her chair and nods. "The diving was pretty good, to be honest. I think a lot of the gunk has settled a bit, so the water isn't horrible to breathe in. It's not /fabulous/, but it's not horrible. I certainly didn't feel the need for a diving suit. Would you like company?"

After a longer trek from the Observatory to the Cantina, Maggie slips into the room. Clearly, she had help taming her wild cloud of red fuzz, for her hair is now woven into a rather attractive Montilvano style braid that falls to swing down her back. Closing the door, she scans the area, then moves toward the others. Keeping her voice lowered, she offers a quick greeting to everyone before focusing on Merrisol. Her expression is... troubled, "Kerf? I need you to add a few questions to your list, please. If you don't have them already. First. Were the Storm Blooded opposed to the Sundering. Second. Were you.. Er. The goddess that is. Were you trying to reunit Minos recently? If so then third. Did the Storm Bloods stop the reuniting of Minos..." Pausing, she catches the conversation and clears her throat, "Oh, sorry. Don't let me interrupt. I have to trump a few folk in a bit, or I would offer to come too." Maggie blinks, frowns, then leans forward just a little, "Last? On the question front, I mean. And last for now, of course. Does this have anything to do with the Sundering?"

Merrisol side-leans in his seat and twists slightly to watch Maggie's approach, after the opening door lets in some of the wind. He raises a hand to her, then looks back at Ryika, considering the offer. "I don't know how it's going to be under the surface for me, yet.. whether diving in is going to bring turbulence back under the waves. I suspect not, but.. it wouldn't do to both get caught in it. When I go, I'll trump and let you know how it's working out," he suggests. Maggie's launching into a series of new questions has him turning to a fresh page and jotting each one on a fresh line. He goes over them a second time for better comprehension and looks up at her curiously. "This might be the final chance we'll have at a safe-ish exchange with Stormy.. and we know she's not very patient with various types of questions. She has already given a No answer to the idea that she's trying to 'fix' Minos.. is 'reunite' such a different concept that we are likely to get a different answer rather than see Quinlan get worried about like a ragdoll? Regarding the one about the Stormbloods opposing the Sundering.. what does that mean?" he wonders. "How does a group oppose a cataclysmic event?"

"Certainly she's quite capable of distinguishing between individuals, she's not affecting all Stormbloods as a group, so it seems reasonable that she doesn't consider them to be all one homogenous whole." Ryika muses thoughtfully, waving off the apology for inturrupting. "No worries, its idle conversation and utterly inturruptable."

Merri stands from his chair belatedly and offers the seat so Maggie can sit if she likes, as he is on his way out for a while. He taps the last question posed, nodding. "Asking whether her actions in Minos have anything to do with the Sundering would be a good confirmation to have. And whether her anger also stems from it. We know the event shattered Minos and sent fragments into Shadow, but we're presuming that means Minos used to be a single landmass.. whereas fragments could refer to other things entirely." He glances at Ryika, nodding, "Though I suppose when one goes back into the distant past, what can we do but refer to them in general. And if she's going to take action against Storm-born based on a specific ancestor's doing, she is also comfortable working with generalizations." He puts the pen to paper again and writes another question, before leaving the book for their use. "What I have in mind, ideally we will be able to ask more than Yes or No questions." The pen is set down in the book crease when he is done writing: Can you speak to us through the skull shell while it is held by a Minosian? "If this is possible, I will hold the shell." He glances at Maggie. "The hold it exerts over Storm-blooded Minosians is too great, and I have confidence in my self-discipline should that be a risk for even the non-Stormborn."

Maggie smiles at Merrisol for the offer of a chair and resists the urge to make a different suggestion as to seating arrangements. She listens, then shakes her head, "No...no. Maybe my question needs a rewrite. She said that she is not trying to reunite Minos. Or... whatever. I am asking if she intended to try to reunite Minos. Or, was working on reuniting the landmass. Maybe the storm blooded people here recognized the danger to all and put a stop to it. So, she isn't doing so /now/. That 'no' answer she gave was so small... Almost inconsequential. The sort of thing you might use if you stopped something a minute before someone asked about it." She frowns a little, then adds, "Or, maybe the Sundering was her doing back in the day and the storm blooded resisted it then. Perhaps it was due to some kind of war between the local dieties... We can not assume that my kin are the villians in this just because she is mad at them. Oh, they could be, certainly. Just not necessarily." When the subject goes to the diety speaking through a Minosian holding the skell, Maggie looks vaguely alarmed, then resigned, "I do not want it. The skell. For what that is worth. The... compulsion that I had was... More than a little uncomfortable." Her gaze slips to Merrisol, then back to the table's top. Reaching over, she tap-a-taps thet surface. "But, if she insists on speaking through one of the blooded, I will do it. After someone ties me to a chair."

"I'll let Lirre have that distinction." Ryika quips on the notion of tying Maggie to a chair, or anything else for that matter, acompanied by a quick, impish grin. She considers. "I might suggest that flinging Quin around in the sky, isn't the most nuanced communication method and putting a lot of stock in which wobble was suggestive of pauses and hestitations might be overthinking it. As Templeton pointed out to me quite succinctly, we're not talking to a person here, we're chatting with weather."

Maggie actually blushes at the thought of Merrisol tying her to anything. Ahem. She looks just a little amused, a little sheepish and a little... Well. She sidles Merrisol a glance with that smile though the look stills about half way to him. She blinks and moves rather slowly to the chair he kindly offered to her. Sinking slowly down into the seat, she looks sort of off into the middle distance before she looks at Ryika, "What if we aren't. I mean, sure, we are. But what if she is Minos in some metaphysical way. She is manifesting as weather because that is what is left... Maybe. Though this is all speculation..."

"So far pretty much everything is speculation, and if we start assuming that she's lying to us, then we basically go back to knowing nothing." Ryika replies thoughtfully. "She did say yes when we asked her if she was a goddess. Then again, if someone asked /me/ if I was a goddess in similar situations, I'd probably say yes too. I'm not sure that being an abstract metaphysical construct of the nation as a whole is functionally different than pre-history goddess for any of our purposes. How would that change things?"

Merrisol sweeps his gaze slowly between Ryika and Maggie, at a loss for what to say to the sexy piratey joking. Obviously the solution is to tie them both up until it stops. This is serious, you two.. "If she insists on a Stormblood holding the shell, we outright refuse," he says implacably. "She could really mess your head up, Maggie." And nobody wants that. She's already a spawn of Brand as it is!

Maggie nods to Ryika, her gaze returning to the other woman as she speaks. Leaning back slowly, she folds her arms over her chest and thinks about that, "Well. I am not sure that it does change things. Other than introducing the possibility that her actions are less self-serving than they initially appear. At least to me. I think her willingness to ease back on the violence of the storms when it was pointed out that she was harming people points to... something like that anyway." Lifting her gaze, she nods slowly, "Well... Yes, okay. But, if she simply can't use it without a storm blood, then... Yeah, I will. Very very reluctantly." Who knows? Maybe Brand's madness will give her an advantage! It is harder to mess with a crazy mind than a well ordered one, right? Right. maybe.

Merrisol closes his eyes and takes a deeper breath, steadying himself. He doesn't bother to repeat himself or argue further, just picks up the net bags and heads for the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Merrisol returns to the observatory to catch Quinlan at the next shift change at the mines. "We're still hashing out another likely set of questions," he admits, "since this will be our last try at communication before, well, she gets really angry at us again, I suppose. However.. I want to run another idea past you.. that maybe there's a way we don't have to settle for Yes-or-No guessing game nonsense." Well when he puts it like that...!

Quinlan coughs. "Well...yeah." He gestures toward the hole in the Commodore's floor. "You could take a walk with us."

Merrisol eyes the excavation and nods. "Sure.." He looks at Quinlan for instruction, like, simply walk into the foxhole, then? Once they are in the tunnel, Merri keeps his head ducked and squints ahead. It's obvious he wants to know where all the soil went and why the thing isn't collapsing in upon itself without proper scaffolding and stuff. Instead, he leaves off the curiosity and says, "All right, here's the thing. You recall I said while I was holding the shell, I had a thought in my head that was contrary to what I otherwise know and believe. The thought was that things would be much better if I just took the shell to another island. Of course, I was able to dismiss it and give you the shell. And to my knowledge, you haven't heard anything in your own head, although Stormy does communicate with you in that rudimentary way." He pauses as his downward steps find stone floor. "You follow that so far? It seems possible that she can speak her mind through the shell. What if, you went up there again, and asked her if that were so, and whether she would be willing to talk that way. I think.. I'd be able to hear her, and relay the words to the group, without being unduly influenced as a Stormborn would."

Quinlan hops down into the tunnel to follow after Merri. It's Pathian construction, which seems to mean 'the loose soil got compressed into solid rock'. The results are almost cave-like in appearance, though the floor is rather more level than caves usually are. "Well, for purposes of communication, the stormborn holding the shell could always be tied down, so that in the event of undue influence, they can't actually *do* anything, too. But it seems a sound idea." Wow the tunnel's on the long side. Heading...well, it's difficult to tell, underground, but possibly toward the first dig site.

Merrisol is quiet for a few beats. "What is it with everyone and the idea of being tied up..?" he frowns. "That is akin to psychological torture, to put that shell back in Maggie's hand. You were there when I pulled her into Antika holding it, Quinlan. Nothing like that happened with me.. how does that not make me the safe choice, even if I /am/ asking for it, which is inherently suspicious." He sounds, and is, exasperated.

Quinlan smiles. "I wasn't saying you *weren't* the logical choice," he says. "I was just offering an added degree of failsafe. We don't really know for certain that the storm used *all her ability* to influence before we caught it. She has proven fairly well that she doesn't use more force than she thinks she needs. So she can throw a surprise at us."

Merrisol shuts his mouth, as Quinlan points out the awesome thing about his QuinBrain. "Well.. alright. Yes," he says, a tad awkwardly. He pauses in the arched stone hall. "Does this lead right to it, then?" he gestures. "The other one? I assume, as with under a certain depth in the sea, the storm can't reach this far underground."

Quinlan shrugs. "I'm not assuming anything," he says. "Except that it's hard to rain and lightning on someone who's underground. I can't swear as to what she'd sense. But yeah. We've uncovered enough of the second stone that we can pull it free. Before we do that, I wanted you to see it. And touch it. It's an interesting thing."

Merrisol blinks. "Uh.. all right," he says again, "but it's another of hers.. a piece of her? Won't she know if anyone touches it?" He starts off with Quinlan again. "You already did, didn't you. I didn't notice any changes to the storm outside.."

Quinlan grins. "I haven't moved it. Or tried to move it, yet. That may be the issue. Or you may be right and she can't sense through the earth. I'm trying not to draw *too* many false conclusions with this lady." He conjures a wisplight to let them see...a rock shaped like a human heart, set into the wall at the end of the tunnel. Well, of course it's at the end, it's what they were tunneling *for*. "Interesting distinction wouldn't you say?"

Merri leans down and headtilts as he discerns the various details that make it representative of what it is. "A heart? Yeah.. that's different. Dirk said it looked like a shell, what he picked up and brought here."

Quinlan nods. "That has the goddess' essence. Just like the skull, in that respect. That's how I found it, directed the path of the tunneling toward it. But there's a special difference, too. I'd steel your will first, just in case...but touch it."

Merrisol nods acceptance that this is the Real MacGuffin, but brow furrows at the latter remarks. He draws in a longer breath, lets it out, then reaches for and puts two fingertips over the visible surface.

When he touches the shell, Merrisol is immediately filled with a sense of rage. It isn't his rage. He can keep that distinction but this definitely doesn't feel like holding the skull shell.

Quinlan must see something in Merri's face, as he touches the shell, because he nods. "I had a feeling this might change the questions you want to ask. Or whether you want to ask them."

Mercier is sitting in a rather barren room, on a chair in front of a simple table, cigerette dangling in his mouth, lit, as he accepts the trump call with a furrow of his brow and two fingers pressed to his temple, he shakes something off, working to concentrate, "I... believe you're under the mistaken impression that I somehow work for you, Hussar." Mercier says, dourly, before providing a slight smile, glancing about him. "We've be delayed by a bit of weather. Currently, the experts are working through it, and I'm withholding the urge daily to advise certain authorities of certain things." Mercier says, glancing down, towards a direction Merrisol went.

Merrisol is fairly transparent about his feelings, and his expression is a mix of surprise, wariness, and rapid realization. His gaze flicks up to Quinlan. "Why, what do you think it signifies? Dirk didn't mention anything about feeling something like this.. not that that is proof of anything." He presently pulls his hand back and straightens up. "It does bring other questions to mind, yes. As in... is this artifact an indicator of her mood, or is it dictating it?"

Quinlan spreads his hands. "It's of the goddess. Like the skull. Do you want to try sending her your emotions, through the stone?"

Merrisol shakes his head slowly. "We can't be sure it works like that, Quinlan.. and I do know the trick of emotional influence, but really only with minds at the animal-level. Look," he thinks a moment, "you can run any tests on it once we're clear of Antika. But once we do mess with it, it's fairly positive she'll know we've been sneaking around behind her back while conducting peace-talks," or whatever they've been doing. "Shall we try the communication thing one last time, before that chance is lost?"

Quinlan nods. "If you wish. She may well grab anyone who walks outside holding the skull stone. If you like, I can fly up to the top of the observatory, and try to catch whoever you want to send. The reason Rabe and I have held the stones is we're relatively immune. That doesn't seem helpful in this case."

Mercier provides a mock frown, "I shall /have/ to update my billing scheme, then." He says, before glancing back towards the barricaded windows, "I believe your sister's inability to tromp this particular brand of weather is one of the signifigant complications it represents." The merchant raises his eyebrow, "Well I'm certain any assets to help the pathfinders would be appreciated."

Mercier balks a bit as Kincaid reaches through the connections, "Knife Shoals and Destituion!" He explains, before taking the vial from Kincaid as quickly as he asks, "How in the bloody hell did you do /that/?"

Merrisol nods, and starts back down the corridor without touching the heart bone again. "Aside from you flying up there to ascertain that she can and will speak to me through the skull shell, I can probably stay indoors, or at least on the ground. But.. I'm starting to wonder, Quinlan. Ryika suggested these shells could be pieces of Minos that blew off into Shadow during the Sundering. If that is the case, that would mean Stormy didn't fashion them herself, they were ripped out of her. If Storm-bloods had something to do with that.. that would explain the rage." He shakes his head. "Anyway.. with any luck we'll find out what's true and what isn't, soon."

Quinlan nods, following Merrisol back. "Well. Whoever, and whenever you're ready, then."

Mercier examines the flask, "Well..... that... might come in handy. I'll try and let her know, but... I think the weather is... smarter then that. Its not precisely... all weather. I'm sure I'll have a more exhaustive report when I return, among many others, but at the moment, its been the game of The Spells and Sanguine. Hopefully, we'll get trade moving again. And I can stop working with certain... individuals." He notes, glancing down towards something again.

Merrisol makes the climb up the dirt tunnel after leaving the carved bedrock, and pulls himself out of the hole. He looks around to see who's here. "All right Quinlan, head up there and one of us will trump." It could almost be called a routine by now.

Quinlan floats up after him, nodding. "Righto then. Want me to take the stone with me?"

When Quinlan attempts to open the door to go outside, an immense gust of wind abruptly slams the door shut in his face.

Merrisol looks uncertain.. and um.. even more uncertain when that thing happens. "I'm guessing... no."

Maggie sits on the floor against one wall. She is watching the hole in the floor with a measure of expectation. Waving to the gentlemen as they appear, she stares at the door as it is shut abruptly, "Well. That's... decisive."

Quinlan coughs. "That may have just answered some of the questions you were asking earlier."

Mercier shakes his head, "No..." he says, before giving a nod, "Wish these mad fellows luck though, and make sure you have a bottle of something good when we get back."

Ryika emerges out from somewhere at the sound of the slammed door, looking curious. "I'm guessing that wasn't one of us in a huff?"

Mercier rubs his temple and squints a bit as the connection slides away, before looking at the flash he's now holding in his other hand that he got... from the trump contact. He looks to Maggie, "Your brother mentioned something about getting the storm to follow you into a... hellride... or some such item." He notes, "If you wanted to really move it. I don't have a clue what the fellow was on about." He looks to Merrisol as he returns, "Ah, we have a plan now, I take it?"

Merrisol stands there, pondering. "All right, so.. She knows we've found the other piece," he says heavily, in case there are those who don't get the implication of a door-slammed Quinlan. "Is she not letting us out at all, or was that just a wrist-slap?" he asks, going over himself to try and get a door pushed open.

As before, the door is immediately slammed shut by a powerful burst of wind.

Quinlan shrugs. "You know that isn't our only way out, now," he points out. "We could take the other stone and trump right off to Amber if need be."

Maggie looks over at Mercier. She touches the tip of her tongue to her lower lip, the gesture a sort of thoughtful one, "Mmm. I do not know that she would follow me, Templeton. Though if she did, I could probably lead her to a Shadow where she can talk. Or... lose her somewhere. But, without knowing the purpose of all this, it seems... Eh. I don't want to subject more people to her fury." Looking over at Merrisol, she watches him, "Oh. We did? And... She's... irritated. Do you have it on you? Either of you?" Rising, she starts walking toward the door.

Ruby slowly shifts the upper part of her torso out from behind a doorway further inside the building, sneaking a peek down the hallway to see what all the ruckus is about. Narrowed eyes slide pupils this way and that.

"I dont think there's going to be a whole lot more conversation." Ryika points out simply enough.

Quinlan says, quietly, "Volunteer to take the second stone and trump or mirror or whatever away from here? We've theorized that the stone is her anchor to Antika. If it is, then she should lose her hold on this island - possibly to retreat to another island where another stone may be."

"Just give the damn thing to me." Ryika sighs softly as she says it. "You can trump me and tell me what's going on once it leaves."

Mercier finishes off his cigerette and stubs it on the ground, "That doesn't really solve our problem, but, if we're stuck here, its worth a try."

Maggie reaches a hand to her pouch, "I have a trump of Amber's gates that you can borrow, Kerf. Or Quin." She smiles a nod to Ryika, "Or Ryika." She looks back to Mercier and shrugs, "Well, no, but it would certainly give us more data." Though Random might not want a sentient storm storming Amber.

Ruby creeps closer to where most of the folks are holding out and doing their super secret stuff. She's not exactly a master of stealth and not cloaked in shadow or anything, but she doesn't exactly scream out her presence as yet.

Merrisol gives Maggie the head-shake. "We thought we'd leave it until there was one more talk with the goddess," he says, regretfully. "One that we hoped would give us the data to know we are doing the right thing by removing the artifacts from Minos and everything that follows." He glances at Quinlan. "I can fetch it out." He pauses as Ryika volunteers. "I'll go with you and we can bring your mirror with us," he suggests.

"I'm planning on going somewhere that already has a mirror, and that won't have the whole of Amber freak out on our head if it brings a pissed off storm goddess with it." Ryika comments. "I'd love to have a chat with her, but somehow, I think the door slamming means the same thing here as it does when my thirteen year old neice does it, albeit without the hair flip and the stomping. If it turns out to do nothing, trump me."

Quinlan nods. "Amber has its own defenses. Best move quickly though. The tunnel should be sturdy but a lightning bolt is rather a *lot* of force. She can keep at it."

Merrisol hrms? "We're bringing this mirror so you can go through it straight away, right? Unless you have a faster way out?" He goes to pick up Ryika's mirror if not and accompanies her down the dirt tunnel.

Mercier shrugs and reaches into his coat to produce another cigerette. More waiting. He pops the case open and produces one, placing it in his mouth. He glances to Ruby as she approaches, "They're going to move some of these shells about again, and see what happens." He offers the case to Ruby, glancing towards the barricaded windows, "I miss the view."

Maggie nods to Ryika, "Okay." Lowering her pouch back into place, she folds her arms in front of her, "Be careful, okay?" She flickers a look after Merri, then turns to Ryika to include her in that concern. "Want me to go with you?" Her gaze does sort of slip back to the door, catching sight of Mercier offering Ruby a cigarette. Ruby is given a nod and a smile though her gaze then continues on. Maybe a storm blooded can get the door to open. Taking a step toward the door, she lowers a hand to try and get it to open.

Yet again, the door slams shut as soon as it begins to open.

"Oh! Yes. That will be faster, I thought you meant trump somewhere and bring the mirror with." Ryika quirks a grins at Merrisol. "Thank you, that will be faster. I'll be careful, have no fear." She heads for the tunnel and down into it, moving at a brisk pace, trusting Merri to bring the mirror along with them.

Ruby doesn't hesitate in nabbing a ciggy when it's offered. She doesn't pop it in her mouth though. Oh dear lord she's going to smoke it through her ear! Oh wait, she's just tucking it behind the ear. She grunts a thanks and crouches by the edge of the hole. "Regular little ground-whats-its, aye? Look at that. Right into the ground like greedy ghouls." she clenches her jaw and swivels her attention back to the slamming door. "We having a competition today or something?"

Quinlan sighs. "I'm put in mind of a four year old throwing a tantrum," he says. "If she'd talk we could avoid doing inadvertent harm. Now we all get to find out the hard way." To Ruby, he says, "Maybe. Though I'm not sure what the events are, or whether the prizes are actually punishments. I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little frustrated with all the metaphorical walls we've been running into."

Mercier sighs, snapping the case closed and tossing it in his coat, before striding to the door himself, "Well, just for experimentation, maybe she'll talk to somoene she hasn't had the pleasure of converseing with?" Mercier says, glancing at the door for a moment, before reaching into his coat, producing his flask. He hrms at it, before loking to open the door himself, and toss the flask outside, "I think we could all use a drink about now." He notes, glancing to Ruby, "I we are, she's winning."

Looks like no one's getting out that way. The door slams on Mercier as well.

Merrisol shakes his head to Maggie, and says tersely, "Better not, Hotstuff." He's still not over that Cantina weirdness, evidently. He watches her go over to try the door too, then ponders the tunnel he's standing halfway in. "I think we're going to need a light down here, someone-with-fire," he realizes, then ducks down the dirt escarpment to call after the lighter Rebman. "It levels out after about fifty feet, give or take. I'm bringing some light." Hopefully.

Quinlan shakes his head ...somewhat sadly, it seems. "No. She's not winning. She hasn't been winning for quite some time. There's a difference between letting a four year old have a tantrum, and doing what the four year old wants *because* they're having a tantrum. We've been doing the first, not the second. And if those two *can* get the second stone out and trump or mirror away...that baby having a tantrum is going to get slapped, shortly.

Maggie stepped aside as Mercier came forward to try the door. She blinks as he tosses out a flast, "Uh. Was that something Kincaid pushed through to you, Templeton?" Concern flares in her gaze. Casting a look over to Merrisol, she nods, "Right. Coming, O and O." Weirdness at the cantina? Nothing she will admit to! Turning from the discussion of poorly behaved infants, though the thought gives her a chuckle, she walks across to the tunnel. Jumping down after Merrisol, she lifts a hand and conjures a bit of fire to float over her shoulder to light the way.

When Quinlan mentions a /hard way/, Ruby smiles. Crouching by the edge of the hole, she rests her forearms on her knees while her hands hang loosely. Her lips part a little to flash her set of pearly whites. She doesn't even look tense actually. Like she was having a little breather by the edge of the pristine lake instead of a hole in the ground. She moves her eyes briefly towards the door again and this only makes her grin wider. She eyes Lirre disappearing into the earth. Ruby offers a wink and an encouraging nod to everyone going for a trek into the hole, regardless of whether they note it or not. She does lean back a bit when fire is conjured out of thin air.

"Light would be handy.. " Ryika agrees as she heads down the tunnel and is willing to move along through dark before Maggie's bit of fire provides a wee bit of light to travel by.

"No, thats right here." Mercier notes, patting his coat, "/That/ was grain alcohol." He notes, pointing outside, before turning about. He shrugs, "Sorry if I have a false impression then. A year ago if I was in this situation, I'd be considering which of my shoes to boil and eat. Those little playing cards really are cheating." He says, around the cigerette, stooping to one side of the hole opposite of Ruby, glancing up to her, "It makes my rinky dink cigerette lighter look like a peice of used charchol, I'll give her that."

Quinlan smiles a bit at that. "I've always thought of rules as more guidelines, personally. The choice is still always yours."

Merrisol nods warily and trips on down to catch up with Ryika, keeping her precious mirror tucked and facing his body so no stray rubble nicks the polished surface. After the tunnel levels out horizontally, it appears to be a corridor carved through rock, with arched ceilings. Then it's a long walk to the end, where the mages found the odd heart of bone embedded in dirt. Just takes a bit of prying to pull the rest of it free, likely.

Maggie tips a wink to Ruby as she offers her nod. It is given by way of a silent 'thanks' for the encouragement. Then she has to concentrate a bit more on keeping the fire fed and following so it can shed a merry light ahead. Striding through the odd tunnel after the other two, she notes the change from dirt to the high, vaulted ceiling. When they near the heart-bone, she moves slowly forward to look at it.

Ryika is the one to reach out and dig out the heart of bone from the dirt, scraping the debris off it to look at it for a few moments, held in her hand. It's fairly clear that even her excellent self control is being well tested by the rage that's being shared. Even for a complete non-Minosian. "Apparently, not just Minosians." She notes almost absently, wtching the heavy piece of bone in her hand. She looks up, looks at Merrisol and offers him a faint smile. "This better do /something/." And then she heads for the mirror that Merrisol brought down, visible enough with the flicker of firelight, to step through to somewhere far away.

The instant Ryika manages to free the heart from the dirt, the winds close in around the observatory above and the storm rolls over the island so forcefully that the entire island shakes.

Ruby seems to need time to consider Mercier's opinion on unnatural fire versus a convenient lighter. She even tilts her head to the side, threatening to seesaw more coils of hair onto her right shoulder, eyes rolling half the circumference of her sockets as she ponders. Her bottom lip does the 'ol in and out while getting lightly gnawed. While in this position, she decides to slowly get to her hands and knees. And very, verrrry carefully leans her body like a large predatory cat to crane her ear to the hole. Her eyes go half-lidded while she concentrates on echos and noises from within. It's only by a miracle that she doesn't wind up head-first down the damn tunnel when the islands starts to jig. She tenses and then flattens herself to the ground to keep from being tipped in.

Merrisol says as he easily catches up, "You will probably feel something emanating at you when you touch it, Ryika. We're not sure what it signifies.. aside from the obvious." Watching her, he nods acknowledgment of her observation, and sets the mirror carefully at an angle touched by the firelight. Once she's gone through, he lifts it again.. and stumbles a bit from the corridor's shaking. "You trump Quinlan in case we need out, I'll get Ryika," he growls, pulling the trump tin and getting her card.

A few moments after Ryika has left the island, the shaking stops.

Mercier falls back purposefully, to avoid falling forward, before picking himself up af the force just. Gets. Bad. He motions to Ruby, with a whistle, he points to the bits of remaining furniture, "Bosun, bring that damn thing around, I'd rather barricade the door then risk losing it." He leans forward, calling down the hole, "Well, she certainly didn't like whatever you did...." He calls, before.... "Or... perhaps that worked."

Quinlan gets up, once the shaking stops, and heads to the door. Just to see what the weather is now.

The door opens easily this time as there is no significant weather affecting the island of Antika directly at this time. There's no weather over Antika but there's still the storm wall around all the islands.

Watching Ryika, Maggie holds the flame as steady as she can so her friend can pop through the mirror. When the shaking hits, she shuffles a bit, but rides it out easily enough. It's just like that dance on the hard arm during a gale back on ... Well, not not precisely, but still. Nodding to Merrisol, she reaches for her pouch and draws out Quinlan's trump. Concentrating on it, she reaches for Merrisol's arm.

Ruby glares at Mercier, her earlier outwardly calm demeanor all warped into something very different. The glint in her eye is no longer a positive one. Sawing her molars back and forth she wrenches her gaze towards the door and the changes seemingly present. Doing a single push-up she then hops up to her feet and makes her way towards the outside with a quiet snarl on her lips.

Merrisol is just beginning to focus on the trump when the last tremor fades off. He is thrown off for a second, then glances at Maggie inquiringly and resumes trying to make contact. When he does: "Ryika? There was a... bad moment, after you left. But it has passed. Maggie's going to check with Quinlan." The two M's are still underground, naturally. Or unnaturally, really.

Quinlan answers the trump with, "Antika is normal again. Not sure about anything else, but everywhere on Antika seems to be nearish normal." Weirdly enough he seems almost sad about it.

Ryika is somewhere rather posh looking, all things considered, far more comfortable than an observatory stripped of gear by a rogue Pathian. She ahs softly and nods. "I expect me picking it up probably pissed her off. It's quiet here, I didnt' bring any weather with me."

Trippy. Maggie is trumping with Quinlan, and Merrisol is trumping with Ryika, and both in contact with each other. Does that mean Quinlan can see Ryika? Merri smiles at what he sees of Ryika's location. "It hasn't followed Ryika, so far," he reports through to Quinlan, just in case.

Mercier blinks once at Ruby, watching as she heads towards the door, "Ah...." He shakes his head. What was she going to do? Make the angry storm goddess /angry/? "See if she had that drink, while you're out there, bosun." He says, moving towards the telescopes she she steps by, counting them before looking for the biggest one pointed towards landscape, rather then stars.

Quinlan nods and heads back inside, looking for the telescopes. "Mercier. Give me a hand. Check every telescope, look out as far as you can. To other islands if you can." Manning one, he frowns thoughtfully. "...We're now the eye?" he muses. "I wonder if the skull still being here has to do with that. What do you see?"

The most important telescope is pointing out to sea where the Antikan fleet is still trapped outside the Minosian storm wall. In fact the wall around the islands seems to have gotten a good bit more furious in nature. But within the wall, the other islands are now easily visible through their respective telescopes.

Maggie passes Quinlan's report to Merri and Ryika, by extension. "Well, maybe she takes a while to manifest there. Quin? What about the other storms?" Pausing, she adds, "What is the heart of a storm? We know that the eye is the calm."

Ruby mutters something under her breath in response and stands outside the Observatory. Being in the fresh air is nice though. Her toes curl at the ends of her sandals and she does a slow 360 degrees, rotating as she stares up into the sky. Her nose wrinkles and she remains suspicious, if not a little ticked off.

Quinlan murmurs, "I think we've done a kind of exchange. Antika's fine. Can see other islands. But the wall around the whole is furious and *really really* annoyed, like we're reaching Agrajag levels of universal aggravation there."

Mercier shakes his head, "The islands look to be in fine shape, but.... the storms still out there. It looks like she might have allocated her resources from here, to out there.... good to know we've still got a problem to solve." Mercier quips, straightening himself up.

Merrisol looks, frankly, at a loss for a few moments, as he vacillates between the view in the observatory and Ryika's posh splendour. "I think.. Maggie and I should go up to Quinlan. Ryika.. well done. I'll sign off and we'll speak again soon. Call me if there's any change to the weather, of course.. or the feeling from the heartbone." He shakes his head, leaning on Maggie a little more. "I.. don't know, Hotstuff. I think we deserve a small break from riddle-busting.. don't you?"

Maggie says, "I am sorely tempted to invite Ryika to bring the bone back. Just to see if she would reconcentrate here. But... I don't really want to yo-yo the storm goddess around that way. If she is irritated with us know, that would probably just infuriate her." As though she wasn't infuriated already." She looks up at Merrisol as he leans against her. A smile flashes to her lips and she nods, "I do, yes." Looking back to the card, she speaks to Quinlan, "We're headed up, Quin."

Quinlan nods. "All right. We've still got the skull here, so...well, for what it's worth there's that. We can hand that to Ryika too if we want to keep these things together, because the big wall out there suggests there's probably more of these stones to find."

Merrisol helps Quinlan sweep up and kind of.. leave the place clean, even though there are probably impressions of desks and flowerpots in the reinforced walls. He removes all the weird notes and lists, bundling them up to go into some X-Files folder somewhere. He watches down the hill for a little while, observing residents and surviving mariners emerge from their hideouts, gathering on the docks to view the calmed waters and open channel, knowing underneath rests the sunken graveyard of ambitions. Violins. "Gotta go," he grumbles to himself, and goes to find the others. "I can't stay." You knows why! "Anyone without a trump contact back in Amber, I will gladly help see you off.. but let's be quick." He's looking mostly at Mercier while he offers this.

There is an odd meloncholy about the stormless island. Maybe it is just Maggie's perceptions, but something nags at the back of her mind and she chews her lower lip a bit as she watches the cautious creeping of the residents and denizens. Nodding to Merrisol's comment, she inhales and turns to survey their group. Her eyes flicker to Mercier, then Ruby after Quinlan trumps away. Her lips part briefly, but then close again. "I need to head out too. I doubt that this place is entirely safe for any of us."

Ruby finishes her stalking about and scowling up at the sky. She was certainly doing a heck of a lot of time outdoors while all the consolidating and housecleaning was going on. Perhaps a little personal housecleaning. She's not gone long though, and finds her way back to ground zero again, spying what remains of the group and a little relieved to boot. "Aye..." she jogs up, wearing more suitable clothes and seeming a little more composed. "Aye...Wanna word with you about that, Lirre. Gots busy-ness. Maybe you can help ol' Ruby out with a matter or two while you skip like a stone. I'll pay fer passage or whatnot. Truth. You know where Cameron be, right?"

Mercier frowns at Merrisol, "I'm to understand nooses are uncomfortable neckwear." He notes simply, looking to Ruby with a bit of suspicion in his eyes, before he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'll find my way back, one way or another." He says simply. His tone is gray and neutral, and theres no comradely warmness to any of it, as there might have been when things went down at the Menagerie.

Merrisol considers Ruby for a long moment. "Go to Cameron? I think that can be arranged," he nods, while his gaze rolls back to Mercier after that choice quip is offered. He headtilts slightly at the assertion, speculative once more, only in this case the why's and who's of Mercier's purpose seem obvious. "Ah. Good," he smiles grimly. "For a few moments there I thought your trying to understand the likes of a storm goddess would somehow trickle down to a lowly pirate. But that wouldn't be quite sporting."

Ruby places her hands on her hips and looks from Mercier to Merrisol with exasperation. "By my bumpy backside...Did you blokes get knucky-knucky with the same filly or something? Shake hands, bump hips or flip your trunks at each other." She demonstrates with an arm waving up before her face and trumpets a short-lived blurt between tightly pressed lips. Adding in a rolling, hip-thrusting movement does not help.

Mercier tilts his head up towards Merrisol, "She's weather. You're a man. You can say two damn words to defend yourself, and I've asked you to, and yet you haven't felt the need to offer any explination. To say something to mitigate /why/. Because I really don't understand why a man like you would chose to kill merchant sailors on the high seas for profit. I'm somehow hoping that I somehow have the definition of /pirate/ wrong." The merchant notes, "Neither has anyone who knows you. I get the impression that I'm supposed to shrug off a capital crime because look it how dashing they all are." Mercier says. There is no humor in any of it. The merchant looks to Ruby, "Or people not bloody understanding why I have a problem with pirates."

Merrisol slips a trump from his tin while Mercier is talking, the way a smoker taps the last cigarette from a depleted packet... without looking once. His eyes are attentively on Mercier or Ruby, whichever of them is sounding off opinions at the time. He doesn't have a range of neutral expressions to work with, but he does fuckin' obstinate rather well. Which fades when his gaze drops away to the card. "Hello," he says to it in the ensuing silence where he should be arguing back at Mercier or shrugging helplessly at Ruby. "Could I ask you for a jump back to the Dancer? Thank you." He looks at Mercier narrowly again, while the card gets slipped back into the deck. "You know.. Templeton, you and Stormy are really /a lot/ alike. You should take care of that before you blow yourself out." He offers his hand to Ruby, and inclines his head as a trump call reaches him this time. "One second. Still coming, Ruby?"

The large woman frowns and doesn't seem to grasp an important component to this standoff. Without any large insight into what appear to be past and vast greviances, nor the scale, she blows out a breath of air. With another glance between the two fellas, she moves closer to Lirre in preparations for leaving. "Aye. Truth." She looks over towards Mercier and offers a farewell of sorts. "Gots busy-ness. Can't pass it up before getting back to the Cap'n. Will help out." She reaches forward with her hand to Merrisol.

"If we go by net sailors lives ruined, I'll bet you've got the numbers up on me. Good luck outrunning the noose, tyrant. I can only hope you see it before me." Mercier says. He gives a look to Ruby, and shakes his head, "I hope I haven't misjudged you too, bosun. Apparently I'm good at that these days." He produces a trump of his own and steps back, concentrating on it.

Merrisol takes Ruby's hand and in the same movement, hands her through to whomever on the other side, with all the weird dimensional folding and rainblow streamers attendant. It's magically horrific! Merrisol bristles visibly while Mercier gets the last verbal jab in, then follows Ruby into trump space without wasting another word.