Red Red Rum

[rassafraggin]

Back on deck, Maggie stands soaked to the skin and blinking stupidly into the rain with her hair a long ribbon of rippling red down her back. Peripherially, she takes in the deck, awash with rain and sea-water, the bodies laid out in a nice, neat row... Ruby and Michio and Anderson; who is trying not to glare too much, the crew helping Ora and her group hoist another body up onto the ship... Is that the last of them? Eyes blinking a bit stupidly, she shakes water from her hands then turns to at least try to pull Merrisol into a hug. A big one. Guilt at having succumbed to Stormy's compulsion will be dealt with later when she can think straight enough to realize just what a stupid thing it was that she just did and how lucky they all are that Anderson has trumps. For now, she just wants to make sure that he is okay. Finally, her voice muffled, she manages to ask, "Kerf. Do you need Amy?"

Amy. Right. Big purple dragon. Who is on her second attack vector. Trumpeting her irritation with the stupid traitor sharks. Who are now food, for their brethren, except for the one that she grasps, pulling up with her, whatever doesn't fall off. Wings work really hard, and it's a bit of a scramble. Maybe not as graceful as it ought to be, but Amy is Oberspawn and she's much stronger than she's usually given credit for. So, she manages to drop at least part of the shark corpse on the deck, hopefully out of the way. Bloosy claws, bloody tail, bloody maw, and entirely outraged dragon. Her wings flutter as she lands on the deck with a thud. There is a definite wild look to her, a growl unconsciously emitting from her. She might be somewhat tired later. Right now, she's still spitting mad.

Similarly soaked, hair plastered to his head and dark clothes to his body, Merrisol steps willingly into his wife's heartfelt tug and clasps Maggie to his chest. His head leans down low to rest over hers. He doesn't flinch much as her arms go around him, explaining in a murmur, "It passed close and skinned me a bit. It's just a scrape, darling, really." Peeling away enough to look in her eyes, he offers a reassuring smile, for lunacy or not, her headlong dive did not end so badly. At least.. not for Captains, crew, and friends. Those sharks? Their man-eating days are over. Merri turns in startlement as one bloody fish hits the deck with a huge slap, and he looks up to follow Amy's flight downwards to score the wet planks with her landing. He slowly releases Maggie, glancing a cautious question at her, before facing the incensed Mandrake. "Amy..?" he ventures, voice raised enough to clear the rumble and crash of the storm. "Thank you." No need to elaborate, he might be a sight worse off but for her, maybe even dead. That feral look she's rocking? He's gonna let that play itself out, before he moves in for an appreciative shoulder pat.

Maggie holds her husband close for as long as she can, though it eases when she hears his explaination. Looking up, she catches his gaze and returns the smile with only a briefly abashed edge. Releasing him when she hears the sound of the partial shark body hit the deck, when she feels the reverberations of Amy's landing, Maggie turns to reassess the situation. Clearing her throat, she takes her own step or three toward her sparklingly purple cousin, "Amy. Thank you."

More practically minded, Mr. Anderson eyes the shark, then the dragon. Stopping a sailor who is backing away from the glary-eyed dragon, he motions below decks, "Please let Mouse know that dinner will be fish. Shark, to be exact. Perhaps suggest a nice spice rub. Or whatever his wizardy dreams up. Ask Mouse to send up a contingent to take the shark below. If Miss Amy will let us near it, of course. It is her catch." The dragon is given an appreciative, if cautious, smile and half bow.

Amy's gaze takes in the arrival of everyone back on deck, no one currently out there avoiding the sharks. So far as they know. Merrisol's thank you starts the downward spiral, her temper hot, but - actually - normal. Maggie's agreement helps, but it is Mr. Anderson who wins a bark of laughter from Amy-dragon. "Aye, dinner," she says, finding words again, finally. She steps back from the carcass, glancing at her claws, and starting the process of cleaning the gunk off them before shifting back. Because in Dragon form, this is just fine. As a human? EW! After a moment, she turns back to look at Merrisol and Maggie, the growl gone, and calm starting to suffuse through her again. "At least the rain helps rince off the scales," she observes. "Is everyone okay?"

No one ever told him that being Regent meant you were on call 24/7. Just when he was about to do something that was other than paperwork and tedious negotiation another call came through and Martin had to spend time on that. Also, luck for the people he was negotiating with they got the better end of the deal because he was of course inspired to make his promises be worth it. Countess Ygrayne will probably now have all the problems she can think of every time she hears the Regent is in Minos. He seems far more willing to give while there. If he hadn't already been engaged, she may have been able to get a promise out of him for that too, of course not to her though. Freaking Goddess. Martin grumbles as he steps back on to the ship main deck. "I'm not answering that again. They can send a damn message." But of course you know he will because he just can't help himself but be you know.. That Reliable Guy.

Mr. Anderson smiles at Amy, perhaps charmed by her laugh even if it is a bit draconic and followed by feline-like cleaning. Turning, he marshales the crew, sending some to help Mouse get the shark down to prepare it, some to help Ora and a contingent to examine the deck. Those gouges will need to be sanded. Later. For now, the wood will need to be sealed against the rain. Saluting Maggie and Merrisol, he sets about dealing with those tasks.

Returning Anderson's salute, Maggie lets him go off to take care of things. Moving across the deck, she pauses near Ora as the small boat is resecured. "Did we recover all of the bodies, Ora?"

The sailor flashes a glance over to where the bodies are lined up, "I think so, Captain."

Maggie nods, "Thank you." Turning back, she lifts her voice, "We need to track the other ship. The debris trail will take us farther into the storm." Fair warning. "Mr. Anderson. Before you go below, turn us onto that heading." Her hand lifts to point along the debris trail." Mr. Anderson turns to Maggie, then nods, "Aye, aye, Captain. Helm, take your heading from Miss Nyota in the nest." An answering 'aye aye, sir' comes from the helm and from the brave soul up in the crow's nest. Miss Nyota certainly will have stories to tell when they return. Bird's eye view of a Princess turned dragon strafing sharks! Imagine!

Amy lets her eyes gleam briefly with Mandrake sight, as she uses her own skills to make sure that everyone still alive is staying that way. Ruby gets a studious draconic gaze. But for the moment, Amy leaves the tall woman to her own devices. Instead, she finishes claw cleaning, and then she eyes her tail with a grimace. She sighs, padding over to the edge of the ship, and eyeing the rain, the water, and then looks back over at Maggie. "Might I convince someone to bring me a bucket of water? warm and soapy wins bonus points."

Martin slowly absorbs the scene about him and comes to the conclusion that the sharks have been dealt with. He's quick like that. Since he's seen Amy's dragon form before... (Recall a ride in the ERC with Maggie & Amy of course). He's sort of shaking himself away from the influence of the goddess or trying to be resilient anyway. "Ho, Amy..." He chortles at his sister's impressive form. A dragon he will probably ride one day according to the vision in Tir. Then again, the future is showing so much it really makes him wonder what it is going to actually be. "Guess this means you don't want to have curly fries later, yeah?" He saunters over, unable to keep the I'm awesome and I know it star quality from his movement. There might even be a glint in his teeth when he grins, just like Tony Curtis. He's a superstar.On his way he snaps a finger at one of the crew members, "Yeah, hey, mind gettin' that... thanks brah." His smile is enough to melt any heart. The deck hand scurries away to do the Regent's bidding with his eyes in the stars.

Merrisol has gone dripping over to look at the four human bodies currently laid in a row on the deck... none are Scallion, of course, but... oh. One of them isn't even dead. "Lord Michio..?" he utters, baffled by the man's presence on board, but not particularly that he's laying about with corpses, commisserating. Two more bodies are brought from the boat then, and he looks the bunch over once more. "These men all sailed with Captain Scallion.. um.. this one, he was the Master-at-Arms." Michio likely knows that much already, and probably more, so pays no heed to Merri, who sidles away after a moment to look over the rail. The remains of Amy's fury is a red foamy stain spread over high-peaked waves, at the edge of the wreckage, and the frequent appearance of a tipped dorsal fin in its vicinity indicates yet more sharks closed in to clean up the evidence.

There is nothing quite so sparkly as one of Martin's grins or the gleam in his eyes. The swagger just seals the deal. The crewman almost scampers off to see to warm soapy water for Miss Amy. When he returns, a large bucket of the stuff is settled next to her. The man tugs at his cap and then backs away to give her room.

Leaning against the railing, Maggie is looking over the side, sighting on the debris as it is drawn from the sight of the wreck off and away. After a moment, she shakes her head and calls, "Belay that heading, helmsman." Looking back toward the corpses, she waits for the others to be settled, then crosses her arms over her chest. "We need a heading." Looking up into the rain, she closes her eyes as though letting the rain wash away the indecision and uncertainty it instilled, "If I was going amok and hunting ships out of Manzanil, where would I go after scoring a kill? From here, the options are back to Manzanil, Saman, or the Mainland. Unless Michio is up to asking the dead... I'm going to guess back to Manzanil."

"What's to the north?" Amy asks, maybe not helpfully. "I know the debris leads back to that whirlpool thing - the Maw was it?" She smiles at the crewman bringing her the water, which might not be quite so reassuring. "It looked like the ship got hit from the north, if I had to guess. And thank you, Martin. And Maggie." And crewman. Amy now busies herself with the soapy water, tail, and well, right! Dragon ablutions - we'll just leave them there.

"Don't worry..." Martin assures the crewman. "That's my sister, she's a pussycat." He also helpfully adds... "She won't bite you, she's already eaten." Or maybe not so helpfully. Perhaps he'll just stick to the starry grin and that will set the crewman at ease. "If we're going to be somewhere near where Llewella can do her reading, she told me she'll be available." He lounges against the railing with all the assured nature of someone who doesn't care about falling into the sea. He's got all the confidence in the world now, after all. He looks up and down the rigging with a curious glint...He might just be thinking about scrambling up that mast to pose on the topsail, just because.

"A whole lot of sea," replies Merri to the question of 'north'. "And then the mainland. Saman is out, I think.. it's out of the storm, and the ships' crews' goal is to stay under the influence, if Southpaw's description is sound." He studies the area again, but doesn't have the advantage of dragon's eye view, to see the way the enemy cannon had torn through the Mad Rhyme's hull and sprayed its burning materials in a wide southern swath. With a glance at Maggie, he points out the fading site of the feeding frenzy. "Once the sharks are done there, they will move on after the source of food. If we can track them," he looks at Amy hopefully, "they may lead us to the Xanthippe and Wildfire."

Maggie nods slowly, her gaze moving first over the wreckage, then moving to the froth indicating where the remaining sharks and their brethern feed. Folding her hands, she steels herself against the continuing rain and narrows her eyes, "North. Manzanil is also north of here. Manzanil and the mainland. Though I think we can probably rule out the mainland. What with the zombies and all." Glancing over her shoulder, she lets her gaze touch the bodies of the dead, "We should probably see to their burial before we even consider going too close to the mainland. I have no idea what causes the dead to rise there and do not want to risk having them get up and walk around." Looking back, she shudders slightly, though not with chill. "I think Southpaw's information was sound, Kerf. I can imagine that there are people who like the high."

Amy nods her head slowly. "Manzanil, is it?" she asks, slowly. "Right then." Martin gets a glare - for that pussycat comment. Dragon. Not cat. Rawr! "I can fly, though it's rough out there. Bouncy winds." She pauses, and then says, "What is it that you're wanting me to track? Or wanting to track, at any rate?" She glances at the poor dead guys, and nods. "Should bury them and check on the wounds that you all have already got."

Ruby finishes dredging herself of debris and emptying her ears water. A few hronks of her nose and vertigo-tilting of her head to drain things and wring out her hair She's stayed clear of the dead. Everytime she looks at the corpses she sneers in revusion usually reserved for those special stinky cheeses odd people like. The rest of what she went into the water with gets upended and shook.

Merrisol nods agreement while he listens to Maggie's ideas. "And the freedom as well," he adds to her statement, a lightning flash illuminating his set expression, jaw stiff with anger. Piracy without consequence, or conscience? Who wouldn't go for that? Glancing at Amy, he reaches a hand back to feel around the torn fabric of his shirt, and the stinging abrasion on his back, tingling dullyas the frayed skin mends wet. "It's not that bad," he self-diagnoses, brow furrowing in thought as he also looks over the five corpses on the drenched deck. "I don't believe all the crew died in battle or drowning here. That would be at least forty unaccounted, and the scavenger count doesn't support that. If... we do go after those ships.." he looks back at Maggie, mouth tensing, then shivering as he speaks contrary to a not-so-hidden, thirsty desire to strike back hard, " it would still be for hope of rescue, not revenge."

A sailor approaches the group. She ducks her head in greeting, then moves to speak to Maggie. With the rain driving down onto the deck and the lightning setting the thunder to rumbling, the conversation would be difficult to follow though a few words might be heard. One is water, though with the rain, that is easy to place. Another is rum. Once the report has been received, she salutes and turns to head back whence she came. Someone catches her eye in particular and she offers a shy smile before ducking down the stairs and out of the rain. Storm blooded. Still, Ruby is worth admiring even from afar.

Once the sailor has moved off, Maggie blinks and looks up at the others. "According to the report I just received, it is likely that the majority of the crew were taken aboard the attacking ships. Along with the stores. The salvage did not have any potable water, no salted meats, and no alcohol. At least according to a preliminary examination. So..." Hearing something in Merrisol's tone, or seeing something in his eyes, Maggie reaches a hand over to touch his arm, "Rescue it is." Nodding firmly, she squeezes gently, then steps forward to signal Mr. Anderson, "Bring us about on a northerly heading. Tell Nyota to let us know when the sharks begin leaving." He salutes and calle an 'Aye aye, Captain', then sets off to do as asked. Then Maggie's attention returns to the bodies, "Does anyone know if Michio finished speaking to them?"

Amy shakes her head, playing with the soapy water, which now is a little less clean than previously. She looks over to the group, listening and then looks at Merrisol. "You can't even see that!" she growls with some exasperation. "C'mon, big boy. I promise it's medical only." She even shifts shape back to herself, clothing still all there, thankyouverymuch. And there's a hint of amusement on her face. "I like this rain," she adds after a moment.

Ruby whips one appendage after another, like a damp dog, despite the fact the rain is still coming down and pelting her in a way that's totally not cool with past mundane storms. It feels like she'll never be dry of it. It feels heavier. Fatter drops. Tainted. Or maybe its just her imagination. She doesn't notice the shy sailor, too absorbed in her own selfish thoughts, eyes towards the now less-frightening shape of Amy as she confers with Maggie and Merri. And those bloody bodies are still there. Fighting the urge to set fire to the deck, she lopes forward, nearly slipping on some soapy water and eyes each of those gathered in turn. "We gotta git riddah these stinkin things. Where's the sword-talkin spookah bloke. We should goo. They should goo. Truth." Yes, she did just barge into a conversation already going on.

Martin has not been interfearing and has managed to resist the urge to scramble up rigging so everyone's happy. Every so often he helps here and there with moving stuff, arranging things and so on. He certainly doesn't just stand around. After a little while he seems more himself as he takes time to reign in his natural urges but every so often there's that swagger, smirk and glint he can't help. "When we're done with that and we get close enough to do that reading, let me know!" He waves over at Merrisol and Maggie. "I'll call Llewella " For the moment he's resting against the railing and looks quite at home even in the rain. And then he has a fantastic idea! "If you like I'll sing something ranchy, keep up the spirits of this lot, yeah?"

Merri looks thankful for Maggie's solidarity in purpose, uncertain that he can keep up the worthy goal by himself, when it comes down to it. Perhaps together they can keep a confrontation from spiraling out of control in the tumult. Between Ruby's protestations of the continued presence of the deceased on deck, and Martin's mystifying talk of readings and Llewella and shanties instead of dirges, Merrisol almost manages to disregard Amy's exclamation. He almost jumps in place as she calls him over, looking again to see not the dragon form but the petite lass. Brow-raising over her latest remark, he trudges over her way and shows his back to the lantern light, although with the height difference she hardly even needs to lean down to see the wound. He tugs up the shirt's hem so she has a clear view of the thousand needly scratches from shark rawhide that created a bleeding mess underwater. "Lord Michio is here to send their spirits through the Door," he supposes to Ruby meantime, still without explanation for how the odd half-brother came to be on board in the first place - have to assume he was summoned, though. "The undead on the mainland are trouble even for Feldanes. Before we get anywhere near, we will commit the bodies to the deep, Ruby," he promises.

Maggie smiles at Merrisol, though she lets go when he moves over to let Amy have a look at his back. A frown begins, as an internal recrimination begins. It is interrupted, though, before it gets very far. Martin is then given a thumbs up, for it is the notion of having him sing that has broken her train of thought, "Maybe not baudy songs, but anything else would be good, Martin. Thanks." Stepping toward Ruby, she gestures toward the stairs leading down, "I think Michio went downstairs. Maybe to get out of the rain or to speak to Mouse. We will send the bodies to the deep, as Kerf has said, but it would be nice to send them off outside the storm. Or, into the Maw. We'll take care of that once we find Captain Scallion and his crew." Sidling a glance over toward Merrisol and Amy, she nibbles her lower lip slightly, then looks up toward the crow's nest. With the rain still pelting them, she has to lift a hand to shield her eyes. Before her hand lifts too far, she peeks again at Amy, "Wait. You like the rain?"

Amy shrugs as she considers. "Hey, it's rain. It's falling wet. If it's impacting my wish to fulfill my desires, I can't tell." A pause and then Amy says, "But then, i think that's kinda what I do already, isn't it?" A pause and a grin. Oh look, a relaxed Amy, of all things. She takes a few minutes to examine Merrisol's back, using her umbrella ... passing it to Merrisol to hold so she can do a quick disinfect and check healing rate on that back. "Thanks," she says with a sunny smile, taking her umbrella back. "Anyone else need some medical attention?" she asks, glancing around.

Hey, Merrisol is wounded. Let's look! Ruby and her quite professional curiosity gets all riled up. A chance to see Amy at work on a volunteer. She grinds her teeth in a grumbly aquiesence to Maggie and also starts to wander over towards where Merrisol has bared himself to Amy. She complains, "/Co-mmit/? Why not /Ca-burn/ them lot. Won't need'ah big door tah kick them through then. They foind tha end just foine." Tempted to poke at the abrasions, she edges to the side, not impeding the lamp light and takes a few mental notes. And admires Merrisol's back. It's rather broad. Hrm.

The purple stain on the water has been diluted away by rain and wave action, while the sharks make short work of the one and a quarter fellow scavengers. Fins emerge and sink in random-seeming patterns on the surface, while they digest the morsels and analyze faint trails in the disturbed currents. After a little while, they start sliding off on a northerly bent, dorsal fins dipping below the surface and lost from crow's nest view shortly thereafter.

Non-raunchy sea songs it is! Martin salutes Maggie somewhat cheekily. This current effort completely distracts him from anything else on his mind involving Princesses and Goddesses. It's been a while since he's had an audience and he certainly intends to make the absolute most of it. Rigging! There is rigging to shimmy up and so he proceeds to do just that in order to give his voice the greatest position to project to the rest of the crew. Whereas he does not start off with an amusing rendition of I am the Rebman King, and it is it is a wonderful thing to be a Rebman King he does start off with something uplifting and much more appropriate. Instruments? Who needs those. He's also got a few Flynn poses in him, of course, to uhm... inspire! His voice is rich and strong and pummels against the rain as though he's challenging it to drown him out. (Insert inspiring lyrics and manly poses in the rain here)

At first Nyota calls down headings to Mr Anderson as the sharks begin to swim north. But, then Martin shimies up the rigging and starts singing and all hope of focusing on the sharks is lost. Not when the God of Rock and Rebma is performing just for her. (And for the rest of the crew, but still.) Her sigh of delight is probably lost to the storm. Below, the rest of the crew pauses in what they are doing to look up at Martin. Tension fades, then vanishes as frowns turn to smiles. Mr. Anderson does not need to jostle people back to work on deck as the rhythms in Martin's songs give them a pace to follow. The sails are adjusted and the Dancer is brought about to take on the final heading Nyota set.

Moving with Ruby to stand near Merrisol, Maggie intentionally does not gaze at the man's exposed back. That way lies danger for her. She does offer Amy a smile, then looks up at her husband's face. Martin's singing warms the smile already begun. Seems like they can do anything at all with that kind of support. Hearing Amy's query, she flashes her cousin a glance and a shake of her head, "No. At least, not here..." Perhaps a bit belatedly, she does begin to call the winds that will propel them north. "I think Kerf was hoping you would take to the air again, Amy. To verify our heading. So we don't lose the sharks." Because short sentences seem to be all she can manage what with one thing and another.

Merrisol repeats, "Ca-... burn them..?" like Ruby just suggested they pee on the bodies before rolling them back overboard. "They are sailing folk of Minos, Ruby, we can't just... just..." His protest sputters out with his pique, as he finds himself holding A Very Curious Umbrella Indeed. Not that it doesn't look quite like an attractive lady's umbrella, but some things can't escape the attention of a Begman.. particularly one with a knack for mechanical diagnostics. He doesn't even mind that he looks silly holding a parasol over Amethyst's head during a tempest. Like puppies, children, and dragons, and warbling Regents, broad-backed dudes need no excuse? He shoots Ruby a look over his shoulder, don't even think about poking, sistah. He hands the umbrella back to Amethyst without comment.... for now... and drops his shirt again while he heads over to pick up his weapons belts and other shed accessories. "Yes, if you could track the herd's life signs, Amy.. we can try to keep up long enough to pick up a visual on the ships ourselves," he points out.

Amy nods, glances at her brother showing off in the rigging with some pride. "Remind me to paint this picture," she murmurs, before the umbrella - used to keep the rain off the wound and such, is attached to her belt. And she takes a few steps away, concentrating, and voila. Heat flash. (No, you're not imagining it, and no it doesn't mean what you might think.) And then dragon. Amy bugles, in harmony with Martin's song, and then she launches. "I'll follow them," she says, as she first scans to the north to find the buggers. "And I'll /try/ not to see if I can pluck them out of the water. Maybe." The wind still buffets but she manages that lopsided loping flight. "Follow those sharks!"

---___----____-----_____-----____----___---

Merrisol and Maggie have hurried off to the aft deck to direct ship maneuvers from the helm, wind magic filling the storm sails until the ship fairly skips across the waves. The race is on, as the Wave Dancer chases Amy chasing man-eating sharks chasing blood-crazy pirate ships. Northbound, deeper into the wilds of the storm, the carrion-eaters set a hurtling pace with the promise of meat in the miniscule traces of blood they are tracking. It is strongst near the surface so near the surface they stay, making it easy for the dragon to follow or swoop at their numbers, if the notion takes her. The weakest link in the chain might be the Dancer herself, for all her magical refinements. The storm, perhaps the Goddess Herself, does not intend to make it easy to cross her reclaimed territory, and the torrent over the deck only increases as the chase wears on, fraying at the wills of the Stormborn and Minosians alike. Fortunately for them, and everyone else, inspiration to Be Excellent also washes down from the rigging, where Martin is belting out Minosian folk rock. If that genre didn't exist before, it does now!

Ruby tries to hunker down beneath what shelter can be found. Which is hard on deck. The storm is a real you-know-what, and Ruby tries to stand fast against all those pesky urges. Trying to stay in the rain longer than others that have the same gift/curse in their veins. Somewhat chagrined, she has had to continually take herself belowdecks to build up some resolve. Woe to those that impede her transit to and from. They get 'the glare'. She has no storm gear to wear as such. Such things to stormblooded would be like waterwings to Rebmans. Passions on the ebb and flow, she's taken a very keen interest in the augmentations to the ship. Running her hands along the tall masts, caressing the storm cannon, and wrapping her forearms in rigging or ropes that aren't being utilized. Perfectly normal. Perfectly professional. The big gal peers out occasionally to try to catch sight or sound of Amy, positioning herself close to hatchways or skiffs.

Dark clouds roil above, lightning flashing behind the facade they present. The flickering, eldrich light rimes the black depths of the clouds in silver and gold then fades to leave the sky darker than before. Thunder grumbles and rumbles around the storm-tossed ship but does not do any real harm. At the helm, Maggie's expression has shifted from a defiant certainty to an equally defiant determination. Although the storm has its own ideas about where the wind should go, Maggie directs much of it into the sails, listening for heading changes from those tasked with keeping Amethyst the Dragon in sight. The storm's influence grows, sneaking prickles of awareness along her body that rather redundently alert her to Merrisol's presence. In some ways the deluge of rain that washes over the ship, her crew and Captain is a blessing for it drowns evidence of effert expended.

Merri has made a priority out of Being There For Maggie, standing close to support her on the heaving deck, while she sends gusts of wind into the sails. Hands spreading over her waist and hips, he leans down to mutter sweet sweet encouragements. They'll need more than that sneaky kanoodling to make this work, however.

From beneath the decks Michio finally manages to resurface, The Jadean man holding in his right hand a small silver blade of curved metal with markings in both Jadean as well as those tell-tale markings of the Feldane upon it's length. The man moving up along the stairs looking around quickly, As he spots Merrisol and Maggie at the helm upon the aft deck as he climbs up onto the main one his eyes locking upon the pair as he calls out. "Scallion was taken, But none of them knew where. They.. have had enough pain. Must be shown the path.." The man making his way against the storm fighting it at times until he spots Ruby, Michio's unarmed hand waves towards the woman, "Hey, Need a hand with something!" The words called out to the woman over the noise of the storm and the ship itself, "Just need someone to hold me steady"

RPG: Ruby declares that she has the Sea Captain (SKL-SC) gift.

There's also a new type of dance. Minosian rigging dance and occasionally hanging by one's ankle and pretending its all part of the show! Indeed he slips around quite a bit up there but for some reason not rain or goddess is going to keep him down. He'll probably have a few bruises in the morning. There's one time in the midst of a chorus when he slips, flails at air and manages to look good doing it. Teeter teetering on a small beam he manages to work in losing his balance into a crazy double flip slide down the side of the topsail and eventually landing on the beam of a lower sail in triumph... JUST in the nick of time. Oh yeah, baby. Excellent! "I completely meant to do that." Martin grins to himself and launches into another inspiring chorus of how Frankie the Cabin Boy used his buxom ways to bend all things to his favor and help his ship avoid disaster or something like that.

Amy flies, tracking the sharks easily enough with Mandrake sight. She doesn't necessarily fly straight, her own lopsided skew adding to the dizzying flight as she follows shark trail while buffetted by winds and rain. Sometimes she gets caught in downdrafts, dropping so swiftly it seems she can't help but smack into the water, until she slowly rises again, wings struggling against the winds of the storm. Thunder booms and lightning flashes colour over her scales, the brightness echoed by their reflective nature, the scent of ionization strong in the upper reaches of Amy's flight ... uhm - unpattern.

Ruby peers out from around a railing after catching a ripple of reflected light on scale and the silhouette of winged doom. She's calls out a 'avast' and throws off the sighting to the crew with a bellow that shakes loose droplet of rain from lips and throat. Michio's wave garners her attention and she swivels her gaze to him, water blinking into her eyes to focus on something closer up. She checks the immediate airspace and lopes over towards the strange fellow. "Whut?" she shakes her head, divesting herself of water and trying again. "'Old you steady?"

Maggie leans against Merrisol as his hands keep her steady and his soft, oh-so-sweet encouragement is heard. She tilts her head a little to be able to hear him more clearly amid the crash and boom of thunder and the growing tumult of the storm. Martin's music helps to keep the crew from succumbing to the growing pull of the goddess' demands, so the heading given by Ruby is passed with relative speed to the helm. Maggie adjusts the angle of the wind she sends into the sails. Energy from the storm glitters and sparkles along lines and patterns in the belling stormsails. The magic stitched into the sails takes that energy and translates it into speed which helps keep the ship from falling too far behind the dragon and her shark escourt. Hearing Michio's call above the sound of the rain, she lifts one hand to offer a thumb's up, her smile distracted but encouraging. For an instant, she almost pauses as something tugs at her memory but she does not dare ease up her concentration lest the wind leave the sails and the ship lose sight of the sparkling dragon ahead.

While the Minosian-blooded crew really stand out now in how the storm affects them every one, the dedication and discipline of a well-run ship shine through, and many a time, passionate urges are dealt with by joining Martin in his rousing chorus. Go, Buxom Cabin Boy, go! He's just a poor boy, from a poor family!

Down in the waters, far ahead, the shark herd seems to be taking on greater numbers, ten swelling to forty within a half-hour of hard sailing. The sense of coming up on something huge and bloody as a whale carcass begins to pervade the atmosphere as the sails are adjusted, again and again, the wheel wrestled through laborious degrees of turning. The 2nd Helsman takes over when the first misses a handhold and gets knocked reeling.

"Unless you have a leather strap I can tie myself to somethin with" Michio's words are called out in response as Ruby nears him, The man though gives a moment of pause realizing she had been giving directions. "Shit, Am sorry.. um, Will tie self to mast." A small smile taking shape as he looks to the woman offering a quick nod before looking towards the mast and a Singing and seemingly happy Martin. Michio blinking slowly as if trying to piece together if this was actually happening or simply one of those small things that only him and those like his father seemed to see. Once more his time on the ship causing him to question his own sanity for rather than him causing those around him to question their own. Michio's grasp relaxes briefly upon the blade held in his right hand as he begins to make his way over trying to head for the center mast against the wind and pelt of the rain.

Its music that's both compelling and makes no sense at all... that cabin boy is just so awesome! Martin uses the rigging to keep himself steady and dodges lightning here and there. Every so often he has to jump into mid-air to do that but with a skillful series of flips and twirls it seems almost like he's challenging the lightning to a fight. When it skitters across the sails it lights him up like a superstar. Who needs special effects when you have an angry Goddess? He can't keep this up forever though... so getting there quick, probably a great idea! For anyone watching down below he gives an 'aok' sign though. All's well, not fish fry yet and now it is time for everyone to wave their head around like maniacs because.. the song just makes you wanna if you wanna and have awesome red hair to do it with.

Amy's having equal trouble as Martin, though she's a bit higher up. Not in danger of smashing into the rigging, just into the sea with ... more and more sharks. She frowns as she counts lifesigns, circling a bit to try to call back to the Dancer. "More sharks are joining the group." Wonder if they hear it, or can make out what she's saying, even with that dragon shout she's got. There's a loud clap of thunder, and then a bit of quietish time, so maybe they heard her. A flash of lightning, as Amy hunkers down to fly and fly and fly, fighting to keep her speed up, even with her heritage. No asking about the windspeed of unladen Amys. But - certainly, it's a good thing she's very fit, as she continues to track those sharks for what feels like forever.

Ruby watches Michio start to walk off, her face confused...and intrigued. She spares a glance after the sword-wielding fellow. "Waitaminoot...Waitaminoot..." A flash of lightning makes her intense features go all sharp and stark. She flicks her eyes over to Martin's theatrics and then back to Michio. "What you gonna do..there ain't no Si-rens. Wait, there Si-rens around 'ere?" She strokes her fingers against her palms and looks anxiously towards his sword. Oh crap, where's Drake-amy? Trying to gauge her last position, Ruby starts hauling herself up the rigging near Martin, perhaps adding a bit of sway to his section if he's occupying it. Her eyes bulge when Amy thankfully lends a clue to her whereabouts and resumes her climb to a higher vantage. "Oh good. More sharks. Bloody gam of sharks!"

Steersman down! Stop that posing for the next Minosian romance novel cover, Merri, damn. Focus. Prying his hands from his wife with a visible effort, he shakes himself, a spasmic all-over body shake, to snap out of the storm's compelling mystique and take care of business. Once he's certain Maggie is not going to swoon over on her keister without him, the man strides across the deck to check on the downed helmsman. "Perkins..? Perkins!" He picks him up to haul down the steps into crew hands. And Mr. Perkins gets to wait out the rest of the trip in Doc Amy's medical office. Looking up as Martin is almost literally electrified in his antics, there's the thought of pulling the man down before his luck runs out. Then again.. is that even possible? Letting his gaze rise to look for Amy winging through the turbulent skies, he checks her lopsided flightpath against the Dancer's bowsprit, and calls out a decisive correction to pull the ship in line and true.

The sea swells have grown into a series of sliding hills, dropping out from under the ship suddenly and then smacking up into the hull. Ropes tied to the masts and sail stations for the very purpose of securing crew to the confines of the ship are wisely in use, and officers circulate to check on every knot. There are chilling moments when the storm clouds seem to swallow up their bejeweled beacon, only for an excited cry to raise upon catching a glimpse of the dragon once more as she takes to the heights. Amy sees it first, naturally, the lights moving on the fast-approaching horizon. The faintest tinkle of music is heard, then lost as lightning cracks the sky open and illuminates glittering sails. Ship ahoy!

When Ruby calls after him Michio's head turns to look towards the woman over his shoulder a warm smile offered up, "Is okay, And Siren's? Maybe.. But.. no, Not this time." His head giving a quick shake as he moves to the center mast of the ship. Michio's free hand moves to pull free his blade and the hard sheath for it tucking it between one of the ropes with a touch of slack to it before tucking it back between his belt at his back. His hand now free moving forward to tug open his shirt as he looks back towards the helm with a look of alarm seeing the helmsman going down, Michio's brow furrowing briefly before seeing the man being helped down into the hands of waiting crew by Merri. The Jadean man for the moment steadying the blade at his side not sure yet if there might be others needing helped across.

When Merrisol moves out from behind her, Maggie glances back, alarm registering briefly. She does take a step back, then stands straighter. A wan smile warms her gaze and flees as Perkins' condition is brought to her attention. The momentary distraction lets the storm hold sway for a fraction of a second though Maggie regains control quickly enough. The lull in her attention is enough to send the ship skittering to one side for about half a heartbeat. Concentration restored, Maggie's gaze flickers over to where Michio stands near the main mast. Or did he lash himself there? Probably best to lash onto something secure. Noting the flash of his blade, she shakes her head, alarm bells clanging in her mind's ear. Catching the attention of a sailor nearby she speaks quickly, "Ask Lord Michio to wait, please. We don't know why there are so many sharks gathering in the wake of those we chase. There may be many more in need of his help." Whether the request will make it to her brother in time or not is anyone's guess. Martin's show in the rigging wins him a grin, though it is belated. Eyes narrowing against the spray, the lightning and the swelling sea, she calls more of the wind into her control. On hearing the heading correction, Maggie antles the wind to take advantage of the sails positioning. The ship dances from swell to swell, zooming down and rising again like a car on a roller coaster.

There's luck... and then there's angry goddesses who don't like their lightning being challenged to a duel. Zing! Ziiing! Sparkles chase after Martin as though he's being targeted for he is a Rebman challenging a Minosian Goddess by drawing attention to himself. At the final chorus of Poor Cabin Boy, he is just about to make it to that next beam when a particularly dangerous bolt crackles upon it rendering it unsafe for him to land. His face screws up in an slightly comical wtf expression. A tense moment leads to him working out the best course of action as he's sliding through the air and gaining speed to crash on the ship below. Lir's will, however, gives him an option because that's when he notices Ruby and attempts to angle his body in her direction. "Yeaaaahhwwwwaaaa!" incoming. Hard to miss that.

It's probably good timing, as that ship is spotted. Amy is starting to feel her wings tiring. Muscles she doesn't have are going to hurt tomorrow. She bugles, letting the ship know, moving towards the dancer briefly to pass the message. "Ship ho!" And the words just are torn from her by the wind, making it perhaps difficult to hear or make out. Amy remains airborn, still moving in to see if she can get a better look. Because well, maybe they won't see the horse sized thing in the air with all this rain and such.

Ruby's eyes widen in direct proportion to the closeness and loudness of Martin's great resounding yawp. The lashing of the storm that seems quite peeved makes her stomach drop almost as fast as Martin's descent. Ruby grimaces like she just stepped in a Cabin lad and lurches about the rigging with one hand tightly filled with a fist of rigging. They're quite high up so she's not at all happy with the maneuver she's strangely compelled to attempt. The passage of her swinging body displaces rain and a faint hum of sound. A large ebony colossus arcing solidly towards Martin with an outstretched arm. Snatching at the Regent like a beast clawing towards a nimble and airborne prey. "Ffffff-"

Luck! There you are! So sneaky in the form of a giant cousin! Martin reaches for that hand with determination. Sky's are not a Rebman's best friend and he grasps it and clamors a bit until he is safe in Ruby's grip. All slippery and such, and face to face with... hm ... maybe he's a little too close to those. Ack! "Whew! Thanks!" He beams at her. "I can think of amp'le reasons why we should get down, yeah?" Good thing she's a cousin! He skillfully uses the leverage she gives him and once again manages to get his footing.

The return of the draconic princess from her vanguard position could mean a few things, the worst of which is that Amy lost track of that shark convention somehow, and the Dancer is now stranded in the middle of No Man's Sea. Or maybe.. she's exhausted and can't flap another nautical mile. Merri cranes and wheels to track her flight, but his attention is waylaid by the sight of Martin in the grip of gravity, caught at last by its cruel law. Then.. amazement as the forgemistress launches to intercept the skydiver.. "Lir's Blue Blazer, Ruby! Well done!" he calls, shaken. Wait... Ship? Did Amy say 'ship'? Looking around for Amy's landing but finding her off again instead, Merrisol decides that is indeed what he heard, and hollers for Maggie's benefit, "Ship ho, Captain!" He scuds across the rain-swept deck and catches hold of a web of taut rigging before the wind sweeps him overboard, silly untethered pirate. He leans over the rail and snicks out his spy glass to catch a better look at whatever may be on the northern horizon.

There might be about three dozen humans on deck, but it's not that easy to keep track of individual movement or account for new arrivals or departures, for it does seem that many come above just to soak in some of that fine fine Minos rain, before returning below. As Amy chances a closer pass, two sailors come up from the cargo steps, holding a steel tub between them, which is usually used for baths, but right now contains.. stew? Refuse? Some other grim gooeyness? They make it to the rail and upend the slop overboard, much of it hitting the hull in grisly smears on the way down. Down in the choppy waves, a melee of sharks move in and tussle for the larger chunks.

Amy's second swing about is fairly quick, mostly because she really does not want to be fired upon by crazy sailors. She rather winces at whatever she sees, dragon or no, and then she heads back for the Wave Dancer to fill in details. Her landing on the deck of the Dancer is punctuated by the flash of lightning across the sky, and a loud thunderous boom, that nearly hides the thud of tired dragon whumping to the deck, seeing stars for a moment. "Maggie! Go get'em. They're just over there, and up to no good."

There is something surreal about a Minosian Captain stealing wind from a Minosian Goddess' wild storm to carry a Minosian ship through storm and high seas to the aid (hopefully) of pirates taken by pirates. While Amy's exertions are physical, Maggie's are magical, with course corrections coming as sailors spot Amy's position and report back. Martin's song coming to a nearly disasterous end plucks at her attention but Ruby's quick action, prodigious strength coupled with Martin's phenominal luck saves the day and the Regent. Leaning against the railing, Maggie lifts a hand to take hold of a rope though her attention then slips to where Amy comes in for a landing. Hearing her cousin, Maggie nods, her expression growing grim, "Thank you, Amy." The words are stollen from her lips and dashed about in mad spirals until syllables flail about and die away. One more push, then, to bring the ships closer together. "Mr. Anderson." She lifts her voice to be heard. "Everyone gets a shot of rum to fortify against the storm, with the promise of more later to keep their thoughts focused. If luck is with us, we won't be seen for a while, but can't count on that. Pass out weaponry to those capable of keeping their heads, but let everyone know that this is a rescue, not a slaughter." She really hopes that it does not come to that. Looking up again, she calls, "Ruby! Can you operate a storm cannon? If we have to use it, we'll only get one shot." Her gaze sidles over to where a storm orb should be mounted. And isn't. More briskly then, "Kerf. Any words of wisdom?"

Ruby releases Martin from the friendly Minosian hug of greeting and the bumpy contours therein. Her eyes slide down to her cousin as he wriggles out of her embrace. His levity is initially returned as would a glaring statue with the personality of a cliffside. As Martin gets his footing she parts her lips to flash some of her pearly whites. "Aye." she breathes volumninously, hanging from her fingers and swinging over a leg to entangle itself in some stabilizing rigging. "Aye, git down. We both git down. Truth." she promises.

Hearing the Captain address her, Ruby hangs to the side and looks over towards Maggie. Her jaw juts forward and she's temporarily got a real simian-imitation thing going on. She gives a very dramatic nod and grins toothily. She hollars down. "Aye! Need on'lah one!" Now she's doing a shark impression.

Once safe in the rigging, Martin winks at Ruby in spite of her personality, and begins to shimmy down. After all, its that cliffside personality who did just save him from face-planting on the deck. Eventually he's safe and since he's already armed he doesn't need extra weapons. After a quick, alls well here glance around at his friends he finds a place to stride to in order get a good view of the coming battle and prepares himself to be the backup. Having just indulged in his starry tendencies he's taking a moment to hang back and breathe! Rain dances around him as though taunting him to take another challenge but he wills the urges away this time. Maggie gets a salute and he waits.

With the aforementioned horizon so often not in sight from this relatively low vantage, Merrisol gives up on seeing anything immediate and grips the rail as Maggie sends the Dancer gathering momentum and wind for that next push up the hill. He starts to make his way to the forecastle, determined to be even that much closer to the alleged ship, but Maggie's ringing orders give him much-needed pause. He returns to amidships as Amy whumps down where the deck is clear. A look cast upwards to see Martin climbing down, safe and sound, then further up to regard Ruby. The storm cannon, yes. They can deal out Eye for an Eye justice. If it comes to that. "The Xanthippe and the Wildfire, Amy? They're up ahead?" he questions, then strides several more paces to aft to call out to Maggie, "We know they are similarly armed.. the Wildfire would be for certain. And able to replenish the electrical charge in the likes of this storm, too. There is slim hope in intimidation.. these aren't just pirates, they are pirates with their self-control hanging by a thread." He looks back towards Amy, as she catches her breath. "Did they spot you, Amy?"

Breath catching at least sort of, Amy continues with. "The Xanthippe, I think. Not positive. narrow with low sail. Bout the same mass as the Wave Dancer? Sails are gold and cream, with a black cherry hull. And a big orb thing at the front." Gasp gasp. But her breath is returning quickly. Wings flutter, and the dragon doesn't yet notice the pain of the exhaustion. Not yet. "I think maybe about 3 dozen humans on the deck but too much moving around. And they dumped something overboard that the sharks seemed to like a lot." She pauses, gathering herself up to launch again. "I can go back up, see if the other ship is around too. Only saw one." Cause it would suck if they got blindsided by a second ship, wouldn't it? A glance over at the starry one, and a dragony toothy smile. Yay for morale improving brothers! Her gaze swivels over to Ruby for a moment, with a hint of approval. "I need to find where the other ship is. I didn't see it yet, and - I don't think they saw me, but it was a bit hard to tell."

The Wave Dancer pulls ahead of the next swell and rides the heaving crest high for a long minute, before dipping back into a valley. In that tilting moment, the ship that Amy had scouted comes into view for all. At least, those on deck and facing the right direction...

The Xanthippe is a swift, narrow fluyt with a low sail profile, about equal in overall mass to the Wave Dancer. Her storm sails are coloured an ostentatious stripe pattern of gold and cream, the masts and hull stained the deep maroon of black cherries, and accented with gold filigree. Unrepentantly a floating advertisement for illicit enterprise on the high seas, she has seen much profit in her day, sporting a storm orb at the fore as well, and peculiarly wrought deck rails.. Nowadays, however, she is a creaky broad from prolonged storm exposure and crew neglect, now truly befitting her name's ancient meaning. She is a condemned carnival ride, seats crawling with tetanus. She is the clown in that carnival whose painted grinning mouth has run to a long-toothed snarl. Still, the revelry rages on, the mad strains of music and laughter on deck mingling with the rolls of rain and thunder.

For an instant, prolonged in memory rather than fact, the image of the Xanthippe glittered garishly against the backdrop of storm-tossed seas and madly roiling sky. The strains of music carried in teasing flutterings meld with the fun-house madness implied in momentary impressions. Maggie looks grim, then snorts as she seeks a few principles near and far. Still gathering the wind for a dash up to close the distance, she calls, "Kerf. Get Martin singing. Find... Oh, dear... Who is it? The violin player. Get her to play wild dance music. Once the weaponry is passed out, everyone start dancing. It does not have to be in the same rhythm. I'll send sparks up to outline the ship. We'll masquerade as another ship caught up in the Goddess' madness. That may let us get close enough to board." As she speaks, the Captain reaches up to unbutton the top three buttons of her shirt. Not that it matters terribly, for her clothing is plastered to her skin with rain and sweat. Then she calls small flames to her fingertips. Before she sends the sparks anywhere, she looks to Merrisol and Mr. Anderson, "What do you think?" The look broadens to include Amy, Ruby and Michio.

With the prospect of a fight on the horizon Michio breaks his self imposed silence as his right hand moves to secure the silvered blade. "You.. will have to wait.." His left hand moving back to pull free the jadean blade and its sheath that had been keeping him secured to the center mast. The sheath reattached to his waist as his fingertips work caressing like a lover over the ivory looking hilt as he whispers out, "Soon.. you will have your fill.." A wicked little smile curling the man's lips as he speaks to the weapon using his right hand to hold himself to one of the masts riggings. The man looking quickly towards his sister seeing the sparks moving from her fingertips to branch out, Michio just blinks as his brow raises.

Ruby drops to the deck after she's close enough to deem a safe landing. Thump. The soles of her feet are so calloused that they take to the deck with nary a squeak or chirp as she pivots and changes direction. She twists and lunges around obstacles and people both in her haste to get up to the Storm cannon mounting. She navigates with a growing understanding of the layout of the Dancer, though the wind and rain and storm effects add some challenge to her final destination.

Merrisol turns to look with dread anticipation to the fore, when he notes the expressions of the many others who /are/ looking in the right direction to see The Xanthippe. The garish desperation of her appearance seems to offend his nerves, a growl forming about his throat mouth as a his jaw sets, baring teeth. So... this is the mad bitch who betrayed his ally and looted his friend's ship, and left her a burning wreck in the storm. The avenging pirate in him feels the urge to press on into battle fitting for Captain Scallion himself to put quill to parchment. If he lives. That thought, followed by thoughts of the Mad Rhyme's unaccounted crew, drops bloodlust as surely as the Dancer's sliding into the valley of the wave drops the fluyt out of view. He sees Ruby on the move to answer Maggie's summons to the aft deck, and turns himself to go and hear her stealthy proposal.

Initially, he nods slowly, brow furrowed as he doesn't quite catch on. "Elsbeth... and Martin. Wild dancing music.." he echoes quietly, not interrupting the ship's Captain's train of thought. His stare on her lightens as understanding hits, and his nod quickens in approval, until her opening up her neckline causes all movement to freeze for several heartbeats. Then in response to her request for feedback, he unties his shoulder harness, and peels off his dark sweater.... Woo! Slinging the soaked garment stripper style over the rail, he turns to yell across the deck. "Ms. Elsbeth, your fiddle!"

Sing, yeah, and fiddles. Well. That's got Martin's juices going. He only needed a moment to gather his wits together and once the handy fingers of the young fiddler begin, he's grabs the music into his heart and belts out lyrics only a madman might. "So the Goddess came down to Minos, because she had some souls to steal. She had a mind to bind and snap them up without even making a deal. Then she came across a fine old crew crew so sweet and hot and she perched up in the crowsnest and said Hey, let me tell ya what. I bet you didn't know it, but I'm a hell of a singer too. And if you care to take this dare, I'll make bet with you. I bet a ship of gold against your soul cause I think I'm better than you." Martin steps up and taps his foot to get everyone into the song his words flowing freely against the music, free and quick. "A guy jumped up and said, Hey my names Martin and it might be a sin, but I'll take you're bet and you're gonna regret cause I'm the best there's ever been..." Yep, singing! Aye captain! And that song is bound to mean that Ruby is gonna have to do her thing again.

Maggie's sparks almost die away when Merrisol takes his sweater off for her attention is rivited on the way his body moves in that moment. The gleam of rain reflecting the myriad flashes of fire near her hand just highlights the play of muscle beneath skin. His call to Ms. Elsbeth and Martin's song snatch her attention and she blinks. The wind picks up again at her renewed call and sparks fly from her fingertips to the rigging, the rails around the ship and dance like a crown of fireflies above her flag. How ironic... the brave crew of the Wave Dancer, succumbing to the Goddess' mayhem. Clearing her throat, Maggie wrenches her attention back to the plan and calls, "Mr. Anderson. Please have someone bring up two or three barrels, please. Hand rum around, but not too much. Everyone needs to pretend to revelry and be ready." Moving foward, she bends her focus to the problem of bringing the Wave Dancer up to the top of the next swell.

Michio takes in the sudden changes in the crew around him as they begin to fall into their little rolls and follow out the commands of the Captain and her command structure. A small smile takes shape across Michio's lips as he begins to stumble across the deck half slidding at times making his way with the not much needed help of the storm to get to the stairs leading to the aft deck. The Jadean man gripping the railing as he makes his way up towards Merrisol and Maggie, His voice sounding out. "Just let me know when I can begin to take life.." His words given with a certain glee to the tone, That happy prospect of blood and the sounds of the dying. His attention drifting between Maggie and Merrisol before he looks back towards the lower deck of the ship while holding on for dear life not trusting the storm and far from being a sailor himself. The man just watching in half confusion and amusement as he sees Martin singing only to notice the movements of Ruby as the woman scrambles for the storm cannon at the fore of the ship. "Or well.. if anything else needs done..Besides.. shipy things."

Ruby crouches behind the rather large gun, hunching over the rear of it and moving her eyes to catches and latches. Orders shouted about the periphery are absorbed as she throws herself nearly to the deck in preparing the weapon to be activated. Locking pins to keep her steady in bad weather are removed with just clawing fingers rather waste time on such pleasantries as prybars and mallets. The pins wetly get yoinked and dangle on the deck with solid clunks as she makes her way to each mooring anchor, shouldering underneath the barrel and scrambling about like some troll. She half-imagines the weapon prying open some invisible eye with every fastening removed. A twitch or growl when more seals of its pent up wrath are lifted. She disappears underneath the shelter of the large muzzle, her hand reappearing moments later and her face following, peering owlishly back to Maggie and Merrisol. Her hind brain telling her not to /jump-the-gun/ and tip off the other ship...like aiming at it directly at the enemy vessel. Rum is coming. This is good. It's also good to stroke this here big cannon like it needed a massage or consoling.

Bounding midway up the aft stairwell after the crewman is off to see to the rum, Merrisol calls a more reasoned opinion to Maggie for her plan of action. "This could work, Captain! Southpaw said the Xan has been plying her trade in the far Golden Circle - her Captain and crew are not likely to recognize any of us, or the Dancer, on sight.. although I suggest we put my flag up the mast instead!" Just for the show, honest. They still have that old thing around, don't they? It's not a sure bet, but they'll have to trust to daring and luck that their growing reptuations will be mitigated by the night's tumult and the addlepated minds of the enemy. Looking over his shoulder, he tracks the high trilling notes to their best musician (on crew!) as she eagerly takes up her fiddle, and smiles at Martin when the Regent readily bursts anew into cheeky song. He nods to Michio's patient restraint, contrasted with the threat of Ruby glomming on the Storm Cannon. Merri steps up the rest of the way and shucks his sodden boots under the rigging while he "We must limit boarding on either side.. and determine the fates of Scallion and his men before tipping our hand," he offers that advice more quietly to Maggie, while his eyes just.. drink in the dishabille.

Maggie comes close to swinging Merrisol into a two-step when he draws near. Tilting her head a bit to listen, she nods and calls over the railing, "Strike the flag and run up Captain Merrisol's colors." They do have the old thing not far away, even. The flame is lowered and the wave sent up the flagpole. The strains of the fiddle sound out in the rain and thunder, adding a jaunty urgency to Martin's song. Taking a moment to look over the deck, Maggie tries to keep her attention focused on the job at hand for fooling the Captain and crew of the Xanthippe could turn on a detail. When she is okay with the way things look out there, she addresses those nearer, "Michio, with enough luck we won't need to end anyone." Though she does not really believe that will be the end result of the day's adventure, she can hope. "Our aim is rescue first and foremost. We'll do it any way we can, but I would actually prefer to try and work a trade. Rum and food for ... Uh... For crew to replace those lost to indulgence, perhaps." Whatever her initial notion was, she rather visibly shoved it out of the picture. Bad thought. No dancing. Turning back, Maggie gives Ruby a wave, though her look urges caution. Hopefully, Ruby can read intent through pounding rain, burgeoning madness and Maggie's own fraying control. Then her gaze lifts to Merrisol's and she takes note of his gaze and swallows, "Uh. Right. I'll go. Since you are the Captain of record." The wind swirls around the deck, tugging at hair and clothing, then whisks up into the sails. Concentrate, Maggie. On the job, not on the husband. He is offered a faintly sheepish smile.

Michio gives a small nod hearing mention that death might not be the order of th day, The man's shoulders falling as a crestfallen look briefly shows across his features, The look though quickly vanishes as he takes up a rum as its passed around to the various crew and guests. The man lifting the glass and tossing it back quickly before his eyes grow wide as realization dawns on him on what he had tossed back. The man though takes it in stride as he begins to attempt to sing along to the song from Martin and the violin player, His words coming a few seconds later than the others as he wasn't one for singing normally.

Ruby bites her lip and listens. She listens very carefully and her face is a mask of restraint. This doesn't sound like broadsides at point black range. More cunning is required. The majority of direction she takes from Maggie. But what's this? Merrisol is (gasp) sharing command. Or taking it. No...Damn strange. She blinks hard and tries to wipe her brow of this incessant rain and maybe help stave off the effects of the storm. Ruby starts to check her more personal armaments, tugging to make sure sheaths are secure and clasps not about to tear. She checks a little too vigorously and casts her gaze over towards the other ship as she lurks by the cannon. She doesn't try to join in the singing and capering. Her hackles are up. Maybe it's the static discharge in the air. Maybe it's the proximity to a fight.

Oh.. well, he can see Maggie is busy and all.. so Merrisol smiles at her and waits... just until the ship clears the next rise with the tidal wave and sun flying on the flag now at the top mast. With the Xanthippe that much closer, and sure to spot the Wave Dancer illuminated in a show of fireworks, Merri takes the real Captain by the elbow and slides to arm's length before tightening his grasp and whirling her in close, grinning with as much real mischief, as determination to see the ploy through. Martin gives Elsbeth the deck for a mad, jaunty solo, and Merri twirls Maggie back out, sending water reeling up off the deck. Going after her in a series of frolicsome stamps, he catches and swings her up on the side rail and holds tight to her fingers for several seconds of dancing, derring, do.

The inspired maneuver also serves to give Maggie a better view of the other ship, and they, of her nimble antics, as the helmsman turns the Wave Dancer gradually broadside with the Xan, making an initial pass at a casual distance. Dozens of shark fins cruise and dip through the gap of waters between the brigantine and the fluyt, the side of the latter's hull still stained and smeared with grisly remnants of the feed that most recently went overboard. The facade of fiddling revelry is matched and even outstripped by the frayed and frantic tunes played by the musicians of the Xan, of which there are several, being as it is, or used to be, an entertainment ship. Above and below decks, the piping and the drumming, the harping and the bowing, all make for a cacaophonous din, up close. As reported, there are perhaps three dozen crew on deck at any given time, but if they are not working a tedious shift at the sails and helm, then they are prancing crazily to and from the hatches.

Merrisol's touch on her elbow is welcome, though it sends a flame to her cheeks and a gleam to her eyes. Maggie moves out to arm's length, then whirls in as he spins her in close. Her sodden hair flings water out and away in a spray that catches and reflects the flickering sparks of flame. His grin is answered by her own as abandon threatens. Twirling out again, she laughs a wild laugh when he comes for her. Her hands lift, then lower in a twin arch out and away that draws back in again to rest against his hands when he swings her up. Tightening her hold, she ends up on the side rail, dancing along in what must appear from afar to be a hair-thin, water slick line of wood above the shark-filled, storm-tossed sea.

Is the rain to blame for Merrisol's putting Maggie on that precarious rail, encouraging that graceful, agile display? Sooo dangerous. Bad husband! Cold raindrops and spritz from her dance moves run down his upturned face as he gazes raptly at her... then blinks. "...Yes?" he says, disoriented. Little by little, his focus on Maggie drags outwards and beyond to the middle distance as he tries hard to concentrate on an unheard call. "Yes..?" he tries again, then frowns. "Ah Templeton, I should have guessed!" He instinctively escorts Maggie along the rail as the sea levels out and the ship steers into its turn. "You can call me Mister, but don't call me /that/," he growls, and squeezes Maggie's hand in a bit of random reassurance, as she is then in sight of the Xanthippe and getting an eyeful of her accoutrements. Vice versa, to be sure. "I mean, you do have a knack for inopportune, you realize that!" Merrisol realizes he is yelling to compensate for the music and the deluge, and tones that right down, speaking in a bare whisper thereafter.

More and more now drift close to the starboard rail to wave and jeer and check out the somehow much classier party on the Wave Dancer. Those folk need to be taught how to let loose a lot more! And the crew of the Xanthippe are very interested in that job! Especially... as a fair number of the WD's visible roster are female. Come to notice it, there are only men to be seen, on the other ship..

Then a call goes goes down to the cabin level for Captain Sow (that's pronounced Sew!). At least she turns out to be a woman. Whew. Prodigious girth swathed in rich patterned silks and a heavy satin robe, the brassy-coiffed, Penglaish-featured Captain strides from the great cabin to order silence from the instruments currently on deck, and look over these strange new party-crashers. She eyeballs the flag, then scans the deck of the Wave Dancer, the true intents in her expression lost beneath excess flesh. "Ahoy the Good Ship and Well Met to her Fine Crew!" she bellows, and looks beadily to see who answers.

Maggie takes the time given to look over the nearing ship's deck and take stock of the fluyt's crew and accessories. Shen she is lowered again, she speaks quietly to her husband, "She has storm rails, Kerf. I'm sure they are charged, so a forced boarding is not going to work. Even I am not proof against magical electricity. Neither is Ruby, unless she has a tattoo that handles it." That is about all she has time to convey as the other crew clusters against the railing and begins calling out to the Dancer's crew.

Spinning out once more only to spiral back against Merrisol, she does add, "They have been feeding the sharks again. Recently." Her tone carries the hushed outrage that simmers deep within, "We'll have to be careful." She looks over as Captain Sow (Sew!) approaches the railing of the Xanthioppe. Whatever reply she might have naturally offered is stifled and stilled. Her look lifts to Merrisol, her expression silently encouraging him. 'You're on'.

Ruby is just itching to fill her hand with a hilt. Her fingers curl and stroke her palm. She's going to get anxious heel syndrome soon and start thumping the deck like a drummer with a drum pedal. It's almost impossible to stay still with the other ship so close, so she starts pacing in a sort of half-gallop. If it looks a little bizzare, all the better. She starts a loping half-hopping circuit around the cannon in wider and then tightening ellipses.

Michio remains on the aft deck watchful of the fluyt, His eyes watchful of the other ship as he looks it over. His gaze going distant briefly before snapping back into focuc once more seconds later with a small smile taking shape over his lips. When the warning is called out about the storm railings he just blinks and glances towards Maggie offering under his breath, "They like that cannon of yours.." His words spoken softly and simply as a small smile touchs to his lips edged in mischief. The man looking towards his sister briefly before letting his gaze drift off to look over the others. His attention briefly settled upon Merrisol, The Jadean man's hand moving back to the hilt of his katana to just lightly caress over the bone of the hilt. "What do we do now?" His question asked in a near whisper as his eyes sweep over the deck of the Wave Dancer looking over her crew and the few familiar faces down below.

The call doesn't last that much longer, anyway. Merrisol is back and holding Maggie in both hands to bring her safely back to the level deck. Viewing the Xanthippe from closer for the first time himself, he gives some subtle nods over her comments, working them and his own replies into their artful performance. "We will give them cause to null the charge.. or at least let us across in safety." And into the next dip: "Yes - they are butchering /some/thing, Maggie." People. Gotta be. "All those sharks.. how long have they been at it?" Closer into the turn they go, and now they pull abreast of the Xan, the Captains and their crew singing and dancing for the likes of leering, jeering brigands. Well, except for Ruby, lost in Her Own Private Idunno. One uneasy glimpse of the big gal and Merri starts edging himself and Maggie down the steps to try and keep Ruby from trekking clean over the side into the shark-infested waters. Michio's whisper is not lost to him, but it is for Maggie to field for the Captain of the Xanthippe has made an appearance and must be addressed in short order.

Letting their own fine music play on while the other ship silences theirs, he takes the cue from Maggie and lofts a shout over the distance, "Ahoy Yourselves!" in as carefree and cocksure a tone as he can muster. "Fine weather we be havin', Captain, aye? Merri, of the Wave Dancer! I command this beauty!" He just /happens/ to give Maggie a squeeze around the middle as he says so... oh dear. Well, he meant the /ship/, you see... "Yours is a fine lass as well, ah, Captain...?" he prompts with a lift of his chin to the large lady across the waves.

"SOW!" (So!) "Of The Xanthippe!" Her eyes glitter in their wet pouches of flesh, in a way that might be speculative. The folk of the Wave Dancer look so.... /fresh/. She looks from Merrisol and Maggie (so /healthy/) to Ruby (so /energetic/) to Martin (so /spirited/) to Michio (so.... errr..... /strange/). "You are New to this Storm, Methinks!" she hollers. "And Methinks I Spy untapped Barrels of Minos's Finest Fermentations! Will You and Yours come across to discuss Trade for Pleasure? I Assure you, Captain Merri - we have Much Pleasure to Offer. All Sorts!"

Well.... that's /nice/, isn't it? So /nice/. With the Xan crew vulturing at them so nicely, it's rather hard to keep dancing and smiling and /not/ drawing weapons to keep those crazies at bay. For just a moment, Merrisol looks like he's going to be sick, but he manages to time it for when Sow is eyeballing someone else. "Aye, we still have rum stores, though they be dear to us!" he calls back. "A tour of your fair offerings to start, perhaps? The storm urges indulgence, aye?"

Agreement seems nigh. The WD helmsman gulps and begins to steer into a closer turn, while the Xanthippe maneuvers likewise.