Session 46 - Set the Table, Set the Course

Previously, across the Horizon...
It is the 19th day of Kuganepo, and no one has been attacked by a Job crystal acting independently in over twelve hours.
Multiple ankles have been attacked by couerl kittens, which has done wonders in relieving the tension brought on by the acquisition of the party's newest cannon, though the crew is still waiting to hear the specifics of the officers' decisions.
The Starfall remains docked in Kuganepo, crates of couerls and liberated cannons safely stowed aboard. The Hive and Apoc have handled guard duties in ensuring no one has wandered too closely to investigate their ship, mostly by loudly going over potential scenes in future plays with such terrible acting that it can only be done on purpose.
The question of what to do next has been floated a few times through the crew, mostly in hushed tones thanks to the looks on the officers' faces when they returned the night before, Bast's trip to the hospital to check on Vale's condition returning a "stable, but you are not on the approved information list and we cannot say any more."
No AZYS offenses have been launched against the Starfall, just payment received for services rendered. The mood may change once the cannon's absence is discovered, but that will be someone else's problem, as the Starfall will be miles away at that point.
But first, there is a much more pressing concern weighing on the minds of the crew, much more urgent needs that must be met, tasks of the utmost importance that have been hanging over the heads of their most trusted friends (and the weird new one)...
**
"So we were all thinking," Apocynthion Lunakrei Tolvani, the Third, says, hands out in front of him, thumbs extended to right angles to form a frame over Rahel Sutter, "that if we're going to really announce our presence, really establish ourselves, really make names for ourselves... that we need good, professional headshots. And posters of us in our finest roles. To captivate the masses!" he adds, sweeping his arm out wide to encompass all of Ducorde.
"So let me see if I understand this right," Isa says in a carefully neutral tone. "You want our faces to be recognizable in any port we may put into."
Orrey looks up from doodling and says, “I can help make posters.”
"Apoc, I get the feeling you may have skimmed the background reading for Cavaliers of Caerwyn." Linnet doesn't look up from scritching the kitten in her lap.
"Good, because this whole thing falls apart without you, Orrey," Apoc says, squeezing both shoulders and then darting back over to the rest of the troupe. "And no, not you, Isa, I've seen you act and you really don't have the range we need for a lead. Us!" he says, draping an arm over Rahel's shoulders, jabbing Jasper in the shoulder, and then withdrawing from the warning hand of Shula. "Your perpetual cover story."
Yves, frazzled by the latest round of "Don't habituate the wildlife to people!" lectures that are somehow not getting /anywhere/ with this crew, is staring at the kitten in Linnet's lap with the expression of someone who has realized some matters really cannot be undone at this point. "...I don't think personal posters are necessarily the best idea, but we could probably get away with a logo to be prominently displayed somewhere when we want recognition, and not when we, uh, don't."
Rahel smiles. "I did think having Orrey help us with some art would help all of you really well. If we're a traveling theater troupe, advertising is going to help us go places and give you all cover for whatever work you need to do. No one's going to wonder why the big fancy pirate ship has shown up if we're putting on a show, while you all go and..."
"Liberate entire zoos," Jasper says, eyeing the kitten's claws.
"Until someone notices that every time the troupe's in town, a zoo gets liberated," Isa notes.
"The zoo wasn't really planned, but could you have left this little guy in an animal testing facility? Could you?" Linnet scritches the kitten under the chin and gives Jasper a winning smile. "Or little gal. I don't know how to tell."
"Have we found our new niche, then?" Shula asks. "Eco-terrorism?"
"Shula! We're not terrorists! Eco-terrorism would be, like, unleashing these guys downtown to wreak some havoc. Or possibly feeding the AZYS board to them in little pieces. Which is still on the list, just down a ways."
“I’m pretty sure we took out the terror from the situation.” Orrey says, idly sketching a scene with Apoc flying on a Chocobo next to a dragon.
Apoc has yet to see the sketch, but one has to imagine he'll love it.
"No, eco-terrorism would be responsibly deconstructing the downtown," Yves says sternly. "You shouldn't teach wild animals to be accustomed to cities. It's bad for their long-term ecological system fit, and they might get hurt."
"I would hope Ducorde is not littered with labs doing illegal research for us to stumble across." Bast eyes the couerls skeptically. "How do you propose to work bounty hunting into the story of a jaunty troupe? Because that sort of thing gets attention. Not to mention that sort of cannon." He points behind him at the Starfall's latest acquisition.
"Our niche, in this case, was 'we had a job to do, we were trying to complete it in a way that left minimal avenues for us to get killed, we found a way to do something right and also not get killed, so we did it.' And it worked out. We have a little more work to do in rehoming these guys, but we've got the space and the person-power to make it happen, so I say it all worked out," Linnet says. "...except I think this one might want to stay. Yves, I swear I didn't start accustoming my little friend here to people; he climbed up into my lap and fell asleep. I did start petting him after that, though. Couldn't resist."
"Oh, easy," Shula says, walking over to the cannon. "Put it on its own platform so it has a 360-degree firing arc -- Yves can handle the construction of that, I'm sure -- unlock the center so it can point down at an angle when it's unloaded, run some cable, rig up illumination, and we have a thematically-appropriate spotlight for onboard performances."
"Shula, you are a genius. Our very own sun goddess!"
"And if you do end up doing the same sort of work every time you're in town, we'll get you your own animal-kingdom ship. Ark Systems makes some quality boats," Jasper says.
"You know what, I'm liking this troupe publicity idea. If we need cover stories for us, work us into the structure. Somewhere in management, procurement, hell, you wouldn't need to change anything about Bast's role at all, the ship still needs a captain whatever weird crew it's carrying. Apoc, you're mad, bad, and possibly dangerous to know, but I think you might be onto a gem this time. ...beggin' your pardon, Captain. Not meaning to usurp the discussion here," Linnet says.
"We've never had an artist, Linnet," Rahel says with stars in her eyes, standing next to Orrey. "Can you imagine seeing us immortalized with his work? It'd be a dream come true!"
Bast looks to be somewhere between intrigued and a toothache. "...okay, somebody talk at me about the practical aspects of this cover. How does a traveling troupe usually operate? Dates, tours, that sort of thing? And how many of them can afford a ship anything like what this one looks?"
"No more /wild/ animals," Yves says desperately. "They're not supposed to live with people! That's why they're not domesticated! Taming isn't the same! There's... look, I'll find some brochures on it, next stop."
Apoc bows theatrically, which is to say, increasingly normally, with 'normal' losing meaning by the day.
Orrey grins up at Rahel once his attention comes back out of the drawing. “I’m not some kind of master at this stuff, Rahel, but I’ll give you my best attempt.”
"Yves, we're really not trying to collect a zoo. But we couldn't have left these guys." The kitten is awake, so Linnet lifts its chin and aims its sleepy blink at Yves. "You can help us find a zoo or a rehab center or a university that'll take the couerls and give them a good home, right?"
"By all means, draw up a touring schedule. Announce our time and place in very specific detail." Isa looks unimpressed with this idea.
"We don't need a schedule. The Theatre of the Untranslatable is in town! Short-term engagement only! Possibly extended 'by popular demand' if we run into delays."
“There are traveling groups that put on shows all over the world. They don’t announce the show until they arrive at wherever they’re heading next.” Orrey says. “Like a carnival.”
"That's part of what I'm not keen on, yeah. And any deviations to take care of bounties are going to stand out even more than the bare fact of a bunch of actors taking on pirates on a whim."
Bast frowns, thinking. "Add a rich asshole with money to burn to the picture and this might look more plausible, though?"
"We arrive by appointment only, with invitations sent to us by our wealthy benefactors, arranging for performances both private and public," Apoc says, waggling his eyebrows. "The benefactors, of course, sometimes make this information public, sometimes spring it as a surprise to their lovely friends, families, and public. And sometimes they'll even be aware of it, depending on the information our spymaster finds for us before we make landfall."
"Well you've got it all figured out, then," Isa says.
"I cannot hope to equal you on the battlefield, so I have only the stage the gods gave me," Apoc says, bowing without breaking eye contact.
"Eh, I know we're making this up as we go along, but the shims are in place and the backdrop's sketched in," Linnet says.
"What I'm not entirely clear on is - who are we putting on this entire show for?"
"Anyone who'd be paying too much attention to you," Apoc says. "The way I see it, you all have people who are trying to pay attention to you. Orrey's got the secret police, Yves has our capitalist crackpots, Isa's certainly got someone that pissed her off and/or she pissed off, Bast has an entire museum in his closet, and Linnet, well, Linnet I'm a little fuzzier on."
"...book-haters?" Yves hazards.
Bast shrugs, conceding the point.
"Sooner or later, you're going to need to go somewhere that's not going to want a giant armed airship showing up," Jasper says with a shrug. "There's merit to a cover story, and this way none of you have to be front and center on it."
"...also, if they don't put on a show for the public sometime soon, they're all going to put on a show for you," Shula says meaningfully. "This way, we can at least get paid."
Isa shakes her head. "If it comes to a vote, count me as opposed," she says to Bast, and turns to go. "I have other duties."
"Hah, point. Cap'n, did we actually get paid for the AZYS job? And if so, do we want to make like a bad mayonnaise and split before the matter of that cannon comes to light?" Linnet asks.
Apoc looks up at the sky thoughtfully, and a few minutes after Isa leaves, heads after her.
Orrey adds to his doodle notes a picture of Isa stabbing little flan like monsters with her spear.
Bast nods to Isa before turning to Linnet. "Earlier today, yeah. So, as the officer most familiar with the troupe...who'd be your pick for-" he obviously goes over a few adjectives before settling on "-Eccentric Patron?"
"Um. Wait, sorry, you want one of us or one of them playing Eccentric Patron?"
Rahel does not look over Orrey's shoulder as he draws, as she knows that's rude, but she really, really wants to.
"The officers will have other things to do," Bast says.
"Got it. Gimme half a day to think it over, but I'll get you a name. ...that reminds me, I have a very important timely message to get to Perilune. Can you take Triscuit? I'll meet you all back out here shortly." Linnet scoops the kitten off her lap and hands him (defaulting to him) to a startled Bast.
Orrey is making no attempt to hide the visual note taking he’s working on. Pictures and arrows and words inserted in different sizes, fonts and colors.
Bast looks down at the squirming bundle of fur in his arms and hands it off to Yves without a word.
In the hallways of the Starfall, Apoc jogs to get about a bird's length behind Isa, and says, "Question, Isa, if I could grab a moment of your time?"
"No, you can not," she says, and keeps on her path
"It's about Linnet," is the only other thing Apoc says, but will not press it past that.
"Is it now," Isa replies. She has not stopped walking.
"Yeah, it was." Apoc stops following her. "Have a good day, then."
// (The message is "Good news! We're alive! On our way somewhere else. Adopted a kitten. More news soon. Fair winds, Linnet.") //
Orrey writes “Cardia To Do...” at the top of the next blank page. He then draws a pic of the sylph they helped out and an earth elemental’s face with his eyes closed.
Linnet retreats to her cabin for a brief bout of screaming into a pillow, composes herself, redoes her makeup and hair, then leaves for the galley. On the way, she yells over her shoulder to the officers, "Anyone who needs a meeting, I'm calling it in the kitchen. Anything looks better with a full stomach." In a few minutes, something spicy and meaty is bubbling in a pot on the stove and a loaf of day-old bread is toasting with cheese melting on top.
Orrey watches the process appreciatively.
Back on deck, Bast looks skeptical. "I'll be honest with you all; I'm not convinced this can work, with everything else that we're likely to end up doing. Actors don't generally go out of their way to deal with things like Diabolos.
But I won't put a stop to it either. Consider it a test of your ability to act like a theater troupe on tour.* He smiles dryly before getting up and making a show of brushing off his hands. "Dismissed."
His piece said, he walks off to check on what Linnet's up to in the kitchen.
Isa leans against a cabinet, eating a nut from time to time while she waits for food. Whatever funk she's been in hasn't cleared.
Apoc drops in on the kitchen long enough to enjoy the smell, grab two garlic bulbs, drop Orrey a note on a requested art piece ("the more wings the better. lousy with wings."), and then head off in search of a knitting needle.
"...the hell?...better not to ask," Linnet mutters.
Yves vanishes elsewhere on the ship for a time, but reappears at the kitchen when dinner's nearly ready, looking rather haunted. Possibly by the couerl kitten perched on his shoulder, almost but not /quite/ hidden by one of those big lop ears.
“I’ll just have to wing it.” Orrey deadpans.
Bast gives Orrey a look, but turns to Isa instead of acknowledging the pun further. "What's on your mind?"
Linnet passes Yves a bowl of meat scraps for the kitten and washes tomato juice from her hands, turning anxiously but attentively to her friends.
"Money," Isa says. "specifically, my family's money."
"Have we damaged it somehow?" Linnet asks. (tone: innocent but still wary concern)
Yves accepts the bowl with a certain resignation of inevitable taming, affection, companionship, lack of caution, and getting lasered in his sleep six years from now because he twitched funny while the couerl was lying on his bed.
"I'd be surprised," Isa says. "A fairly minor investment, I'm more concerned with what it was doing there in the first place."
"Oh. Honestly, from the way you've been walking around with the implanted stick up your you-know-what, I was honestly afraid your family had funded the whole facility and you were taking a whole family's worth of flak for it." A little of the tension goes out of Linnet's spine, and she returns to butchering some tomatoes. "...sorry for the implication, there." She ducks.
For a second, you could hear a knitting needle drop half a ship away.
Isa shrugs. "It's fair," she says. She takes out a paper, unfolds it. "Kjier is my uncle's husband. They work together, running a research group. Airship technology. I'm hoping this means their investment was for the cannon development, not...the other thing."
“Are you needing to check in on this investment?” Orrey pulls out his notebook again.
Marina comes in to use the coffee grinder, ignoring the officers like all rank-and-file employees do.
"Oh, Orrey - do you have a sketch of Vale after the fight? I'm thinking we want to send these off to the Arbiters soon, make some noise for AZYS to deal with." Bast looks back to Isa. "Unless you want to sort out where your family stands on this first?"
"The other thing might also be part of the cannon development," Yves says, hand-feeding bits of meat to the kitten in exactly the way he's been telling other people not. "Maybe not. But... I can see ways it /could/ be part. Whether or not all the investors know about the... development process."
"We've got a better chance of getting a straight answer out of my uncle than AZYS, I think." Isa says. She still doesn't look thrilled with this idea. "Highwind's far enough away from the city that we can get there without drawing inappropriate attention - without having to put on a mummer's farce."
Orrey adds Isa’s spear through a pile of gil and a cannon next to it.
"Which way is Highwind?" Linnet asks.
"West of the city, just past the snowline. I can give Celeste the route." She looks around the kitchen. "There's not likely to be any profit in this, but we can get some clarity on what the hell we just went through, I hope. And also, if we did pay for the cannon, a good lawyer could say I have a legal claim to it," she notes, as an aside.
Coffee secured, Marina leaves, free hand in pocket.
"Might lean on that if the need comes. Should we be looking for a good lawyer yet?"
"I was hoping to look up an acquaintance in northwest Cardia if we're heading that way, but all I have is a village name and a time by train or chocobo. No idea about airship time," Linnet asks.
"Which village?"
Linnet's voice is casual and her eyes are on her tomato salad. "It was called...Uhja? I think? Something with not enough consonants."
Isa nods. "Ondore land. I know where it is."
"Oh, good. Kind of place we could put down the ship, or should we plan to park and just have me take a chocobo and meet you all back at your uncles' estate or something?"
“I’ll be heading with you on that one. I want to know if what we did was successful or not.” Orrey says.
"Unless you've got a black chocobo we don't know about, you're not getting there from Highwind," Isa says with a bit of quirked lip. "We can take the ship."
"Okay. I hate to put you all out of your way like that, but, thanks." Linnet scrapes a bunch of chopped tomatoes and onions into a bowl and grabs some bottles of herbs, seemingly at random. "I'm sorry, city kid here. What's special about black chocobos, besides that they're kind of menacing?"
“They fly!” Orrey says, excited.
Isa points to Orrey.
"Whoa."
"Didn't we see some on the way in? ...and now that I'm thinking about it, do Dragoons ever use them?" Bast asks.
With Marina gone, Chmurka emerges from a shadow, pours herself an oversized mug of coffee, and slinks out.
A drizzle of oil, a splash of vinegar, a handful of chopped olives, and a few stirs later, and salad and cheesy bread are plunked down on the table, along with a stack of stew bowls. "Serve yourselves, the stew pot is way too big to bring to the table. Careful, it's hot."
"Sometimes. Airships are more efficient though. Sentaka still breeds them, and they are very proud of their stock."
"I've never seen a black chocobo in person," Yves says, "but they always sounded very impressive. My sister used to talk about having one of her own some day."
“Sky Knights...” Orrey adds some Chocobo riding armored folk embellishments to the notes.
"You have a sister?" Linnet asks Yves.
"Had," Yves says. He scritches the kitten under the chin, and makes his way to the stew carefully so that there's no falling. Or any unfortunate clawing to avoid the fall. "They're not very practical for a group, are they? Unless you specifically want to have a small profile. But I can see it being more practical in some ways to own a black chocobo than a personal airship. I don't know which is cheaper. To acquire, or to maintain, for that matter."
"...oh, I'm sorry. Triscuit, don't dive into the stew, it's hot. We are not having kitten soup for dinner."
"Chocobos are cheaper to acquire, more trouble to maintain," Isa says. "Unfortunately we're in bad odor with Sentaka, or I'd see about introducing you."
"Well, maybe we can do them a favor at some later point. Save them from a menacing couerl or something." Triscuit meows. "Yes, you're very menacing, but don't go getting ideas yet. You need to eat all your meat and stop pouncing on everybody's shoelaces before you can grow up to be properly scary."
"It's....going to take a lot more than that, I'm afraid." Isa does not elaborate, occupying herself with a bowl instead.
"Is that the 'not invited to parties' kind of bad odor, or the 'never step foot on my estate again on pain of death' kind?" Yves asks cautiously, trying to maneuver stew, bread, kitten, and cutlery back to the table without dipping ears (or kitten) into the stew on the way.
Isa frowns into her stew, and then looks around to make absolutely certain no one but senior command is present.
There's Triscuit, but he's probably not going to spill any secrets anytime soon.
Once she is confident of privacy, Isa confesses to her bowl. "Osler is barred from court," she says with no small amount of bitterness. "Houses that wish to stay in the King's favor would do best not to be seen as too close to us."
"The entire house? Sounds either painfully embarrassing or a point of pride, depending on your individual point of view," Linnet says.
Bast pauses in the middle of ladling some stew. "Any particular reason?"
Orrey pointedly puts his pen down.
"Politics. Intrigue." Isa pronounces these like diseases.
“Is there anything I...er...we can do to help you with that?” Orrey asks.
Yves wrinkles his nose. "Better in stories than real life," he says gloomily. "I know that much even from /academic/ politics, and that's not for grand stakes. Aside from tenure."
"Enemies at court?" Bast resumes ladling.
“I owe you one, but more importantly, you’ve become a dear friend to me in such a short time.” Orrey says earnestly.
Isa looks at Orrey. "Thanks," she says with sincerity. "But it's between my mother and the King; we don't want to get in the middle." Bitterness creeps in again, as she continues. "I was trying to keep my head down at the Academy and we see how well that worked out." She exhales heavily. "If we stay clear of the city, there shouldn't be any problem."
"Sounds good to me. Eat your cheesy bread, Isa, it's not nearly as good cold."
"Stew's good," Isa says.
"Thanks. While it's just us in here, anyone else want to bare a big soul-scarring secret?" Linnet asks. "I'm pretty confident in Triscuit's discretion." Triscuit - already starting to recognize his name - looks up and yowls.
"Like what Orrey's drawing?" Bast makes a show of looking at the sheet on the way back to his seat.
Orrey holds up his to do visual notes. “Uhja, Isa’s relatives. It’s like a list but in pictures.”
"If you've never been to Uhja or met Isa's relatives, how do you know what to draw?"
“I drew the sylph we helped and an earth sylph. And Isa’s spear next to the cannon. Pictorial metaphors.”
"...oh." It's hard to describe, but Linnet seems to...deflate a bit? into her chair. Some of the loose hairs from her braid dip into her soup bowl.
"How are you doing?" Isa asks Linnet. "I know you were a bit shaken up after everything."
"I can't fly."
"Still?"
"At all?" Yves asks, looking up from his stew.
"Still. Since Vale sliced me nearly to ribbons, I can't feel my winds. I can't hover, I can't blow my hair out of my face, I can't even pull up a breeze to put my usual white noise at the bottom of the door during an officers' meeting."
"That's not great," Isa understates.
"Yeah. Any other...symptoms?" Bast asks.
"I realize that this is how the rest of you feel all the time, and so I don't have an analogy, but it's like...it's like you suddenly lost the ability to feel your feet connected to the ground. Or your fingers connected to your hands."
“Maybe we can find some help for you in Uhja as well?” Orrey asks hopefully.
"That was going to be my question," Isa says.
"Nothing new that I've noticed, but it's been, what, a day? And I've been a little occupied with trying to look and act normal and not be extremely clumsy and betray the problem immediately. And also with not having an immediate panic attack anytime I don't have something else to think about."
Now that she's not wrangling a kitten, chatting with an actor, or cooking, Linnet does look like she's starting to come apart at the seams.
Yves thinks about this for a moment. Then detaches a kitten from his shoulder, and offers it to Linnet. "I'll... I'll try to do some research," he offers, awkwardly.
Triscuit is very interested in the ends of Linnet's hair, and yawning.
"I realize 'oh no, I'm basically a human' is kind of stupid in context, but given that all-nighter we pulled combing that book for anything useful on Azjol-Ruvan syndrome...I was hoping to go talk to Ryna and her friend and see if whatever we pulled out of the book worked."
"If she still has the notes we made for her, that might help, yeah," Bast says.
"If I'd seen into the future, I would have made my own copy, but alas, I'm usually a little wrapped up in the present," Linnet says.
"Seems like we have a lot of pressing business in Cardia, then." Isa says.
Linnet gratefully accepts the bundle of yawning kitten and hugs him a little tighter than necessary. "So, yeah, that's where my head's been for a bit. Sorry I haven't been more help, but it's a lot of work suddenly having to pay attention to every bit of the floor." She has the grace to look really embarrassed.
The crystal Perilune gave Linnet pulses blue three times to herald an incoming message.
"Oh! One sec." Linnet fumbles in her jeans pocket and pulls out her crystal. "I can probably take this with all of you here. If anything is really personal, please just try to forget it."
While Linnet is taking the call, Isa looks at Bast. "Avant has a job for us in Somnus; it's on the way, ish. And can bring in some coin to defer the more...personal business in Cardia. Keep the actors happy."
(Linnet is a little weighed down by a kitty and also looks like she's about to cry if she tries to move, talk, or make decisions.)
Orrey adds Isa’s braid to a descending dragoon aimed at a Cardian castle on his notes.
"Might as well pick up what we can, yeah." Bast keeps an eye on Linnet as he digs into the stew.
The message from Perilune is crystal clear, though none but Orrey would use that specific turn of phrase. There is some extra wind in the background. “I am glad you are well! I admit to being worried. I am in Cardia following the trail of a star. Mountains have never agreed with me, but the terrain has not been too dangerous as of yet. There have not been any other falling stars in the last two weeks, which is a relief. I look forward to being able to see you and your friends again. What did you name the kitten? Clear skies, Perilune.” “So besides the Osler uncles, potentially avoiding other Osler intrigue, the urgent Uhja trip, and our side bounty, is there any other business we should attend to in Cardia?” Orrey asks, ready to update the pseudo list.
"Avant also sent a dossier on pirate attacks along the southern border, but I've looked over the intelligence and it's not something we're in a position to handle. Not without a more capable gunnery crew."
"If we're hunting for stars, we might want to have an Astrologer on board," Bast says.
Orrey draws a set of cannons firing in all directions but straight ahead. “A gunner would definitely help.”
"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to be really embarrassing for a minute. Please carry on a conversation around me as cover, as best you can." Setting the kitten on her lap and the crystal on the table, Linnet pulls her belled sleeves up to her face and bursts out sobbing in mingled fatigue and relief.
“Perilune?”A grinning star wearing a mask and a telescope aiming up at it are added to Orrey’s picture.
"She seems like the sort Seventh Dawn might try to sweep up if we don't," Isa says.
"Which means we should get to her first, now that we have a place for her to hang out, and not just, like, an invite to our train car," Yves suggests.
"Assuming she'd want to join. But then, this seems like a pretty good arrangement for her as well. Isa, any idea on an approximate location from that message?"
"Sadly, 'mountains' does not narrow it down very far. But we've got a few days of travel. If she can meet us at Uhja, great. If not, we can meet her wherever she puts herself."
Linnet dries her eyes and returns to the conversation. "I'll narrow it down tomorrow."
Isa nods to Linnet. "That'd be ideal."
"Someone's got to finish up that last bit of tomato salad, it doesn't keep well. Triscuit, I don't think cats eat onions - well, okay, there went that idea."
Finishing up his bowl of stew, Bast pushes it over catwards for cleaning and gets up. "Off to Cardia early tomorrow, then. Someone want to write up an explanation to go with those sketches before we send them off to the Arbiters?"
"I'll take you up on your offer to hold off until we talk to my uncle," Isa says. "AZYS isn't going to talk to anyone, after all."
"Can we show up pointing the cannon at their front door and put Triscuit atop the barrel? That'd be fun," Linnet says.
"...whose door, the uncles, or AZYS?" Yves asks.
80% of the Hive enters the kitchen, drawn by delightful smells, bringing a cloud of conversation with them.
"The former. Triscuit's not leading the charge to the latter," Linnet says.
Isa gets a nod in response from Bast. "Might put out a bounty for us to start with, though. Probably don't want to sit on this too long."
Isa nods to Bast. "Top priority, then." She stands up, and carries her bowl to the sink. "I'll go brief Celeste on our route."
Orrey says hi to the ladies as their whirl of conversation filters in.
There is a familiar sound emanating from up on deck as Isa leaves the kitchen; a clarinet working its way through old musical pieces, the intonation better than the memory.
Five voices harmonize around "Hi, Orrey!"
It remains a little weird how they do that.
"Rehearsal?" Bast asks someone who is most likely Willow, with a nod in the direction of the sound.
"The navigator," it is Willow, in fact, who responds. "Always doing something new."
Isa stands patiently near Celeste, waiting for her to come to a natural stopping point rather than interrupt.
The natural stopping point is when Celeste scowls and mutters "that part never made sense anyway" after falling apart for the fourth time in a row on the coda. With a sigh, she starts breaking down the clarinet.
Linnet wanders in, having followed the flow of the tune. "I don't know, I thought it was kind of pretty. No idea what it's called, though."
"Oh! Hi Linn-- Isa, how long have you been standing there?"
"Just a few measures' worth. I didn't want to interrupt. We've got a new course to lay in."
Celeste grins sheepishly. "Sorry, I was a little blindered. Where are we headed?"
"Second start to the right and straight on 'til lunchtime," Linnet says.
"And that is why Linnet is not navigating" carries through the open window from Bast.
"Somnus first. Shore leave and a quick job. And then north into Cardia. There's a very particular approach so we'll have to go over it in detail later."
"Got it. I'll plot the course and then pull out my maps for Cardia." She finishes putting her clarinet away, replacing the dagger in the case with the musical instrument, and slots the weapon back on her belt. "Do you have a minute, by the way?" she asks Isa.
Linnet slips out to go regale Bast with a monologue about the importance of journey vs. destination. Maybe a dialogue, if she can find Rahel first.
"Of course," Isa says.
Celeste waves cheerfully at Linnet, and then wanders over to the railing for Isa to follow her. "Do we trust everyone on this ship?" she asks quietly.
Isa doesn't hesitate. "Not everyone, no."
"I didn't think so," Celeste says. "I've only been here for a few days, so I'll trust your judgment. Do you mind elaborating, since you know everyone more?"
"I can't say if there's malice. If I could, there wouldn't be, if you understand. But there are a lot of loose lips. Not many here I would trust to keep confidence. Be mindful who you share secrets with," Isa says.
"Oh, secrets are just you," Celeste says. "And Orrey. Orrey's sweet. But there are two people here who never give a straight answer about anything about themselves, no matter what the question is, always waiting for someone else to say something first so they can fit their opinion in alongside. And that worries me."
"Pretty sure I know at least one of them."
"Be careful, okay? I know you think you're a great judge of character, but I also know you, and you have your blind spots." There is just the barest hint of friendly needling alongside Celeste's earnest concern.
Isa nods. "Thanks. I'll just have to find more ways to subtly imply that the consequence of betrayal will be exceedingly violent."
"Just keep playing to the cheap seats. I think the message will get across."
"Oh, I was informed I am not leading role material."
Celeste leans back against the railing. "You always do make the best entrances, though."
"First impressions are important," Isa agrees.
And with that...
End session.