Session 88: Three Hour Tour
To gain access to the vault of a one-of-a-kind airship owned and operated by one of the largest threats that our brave adventurers have encountered thus far in their time together, one must first locate said vault.
To accomplish this, Isa and Yves set out in disguise as a young Cardian noble attempting to spend as much gil as possible in a short period of time, and an assistant task with stopping her without actually stopping her.
This would allow the rest of the team, consisting of a captain well-versed in illegal activity accompanied by a librarian and an artist who were not, to slip into a ship built from the same blueprint that created the Seventh Dawn.
We join our brave adventurers as the misdirection and the investigations continue...
**
Bast strains his ears for any signs of crew as he takes a ladder deeper into the hold, looking for the engines. Linnet scrambles back down into the ship - as fast as one can scramble without tripping over their own feet - and makes a beeline for where she hopes Bast and Orrey still are. Mogri Miette, salesmoogle ordinaire, flits about, ensuring the young noble with the bulging purse is well taken care of, ready to answer any questions she or her meek and concerned assistant may have, including "where do I sign" and "is there a way I could somehow spend more money?" Orrey is still wandering and drawing a map.
Yves continues to exude financial anxiety at irregular intervals in all directions. Linnet bumps into Orrey - almost literally - and starts hunting for an exit. "That looks plenty thorough. You've done an excellent job. Can we get out of here before we break something and get caught?"
“What happens if we get caught?” Orrey asks absently as he adds a tiny gargoyle to the picture of the library.
"I have no idea, but I don't want the Dr. Cid equivalent in charge of this ship breathing down my neck. And also they probably charge us." Linnet blanches at the sheer size of the numbers involved. Bast's journey down the ladder and toward the stern of the ship eventually takes him to the engine room, which is open and inviting for any potential buyers to come kick the turbines. Three generators wired together, able to run at half capacity with just one engine for a short duration, able to boost its own capabilities by fifty percent by activating all three generators, drawing on ambient aether in the air to ensure anything this ship needs to do, it can do. With this ship, it's mostly a matter of 'get somewhere fast and look good while doing it,' as this ship has no weapons installed or thief-ejecting countermeasures available. It can all be managed from this one room, which is rather convenient for the crew. Bast tries not to drool as he circles the generators, looking for useful points of failure even as he takes mental notes for future...improvements. “Find anything interesting, Linnet? There’s a sweet captain’s suite with an AMAZING bed,” Orrey says, still mapping and moving along at a moderate clip.
"Um. Interesting, maybe. Relevant, probably not," replies Linnet. "Seriously, the scale and the emptiness of this ship is creeping me the hell out and if I look over my shoulder too much longer I'm going to trip over my own feet. Don't mind me."
Orrey turns and takes in Linnet’s current state and asks gently, “Need to get out of here?”
Linnet breathes deeply. "...maybe I'd be more useful on lookout duty."
“You’re doing just fine at infiltration and espionage.” Orrey grins at her. “But I think I have everything I need. Let’s find our way out and meet up with everyone.” The engines have plenty of points of failure, and one can add considerably more if one uses the right level of explosives. Sabotage is definitely possible. Sabotage that can't be discovered for a while is harder, but still possible. Linnet smiles tightly at Orrey and hugs him briefly, then makes her way back toward the entrance and tucks herself in a conveniently out-of-the-way niche, where she can see the way out, but out can't see her. Head full of interesting possibilities, Bast makes his way back to where he last heard the tour. They'd have to show off the vault to a noble at some point, right? Sound carries well in an empty ship; finding the salesmoogle and the potential customers is simple. Isa has, at some point, acquired a glass of something fizzy and alcoholic. "Wellllllll," she drags out, her other hand holding her elbow in a posture of thoughtful defensiveness. "You've certainly put quite the ship together."
"Alberich and Marquez are both brilliant minds in their fields," Miette says proudly.
"Oh, absolutely," Isa agrees. "And it would be incredible to own something one of a kind from them..."
Yves twitches an ear, as if waiting to hear something about even more luxury packages.
Miette readies herself as she reaches the top of the hill of commission anticipation. "I would be honored and overjoyed to help you cement your legacy." Isa comments, mostly to herself, rueful, "But it's not one of a kind, is it..." Her disappointment is immeasurable, and her day is ruined.
Miette cannot find a way to respond to that comment that keeps her own opinions from surfacing.
"There was that prototype," Yves murmurs. "Already in operation."
"M-merely a proof of concept," Miette tries.
"It's not as if Alberich and Marquez would be designing something for my lady," Yves says, warming to this line of argument. "They already made this for someone else, and then a hypothetical buyer. It's not... personalized. Not unique."
"Oh, Erno," Isa says, chastising. "I am certain that we could discuss bespoke modifications to make her my own."
"Absolutely!" Miette says, leaping for the open window on this sinking ship. "And I'm sure for someone of your stature, we could see about contracting Alberich or Marquez themselves for any modifications you would need..."
Isa gives a smile that could cut glass. "I'd expect no less. But I'll have to think about what I'd like to change."
Miette's brittle smile struggles against the edge. "Well, when you have decided, I would be honored to further assist you." "Oh, you've been lovely." Isa's smile warms a touch, and she gestures to Yves. "Once we're at our hôtel" (she pronounces the circumflex) "and Erno exhausts himself listing his objections, I promise that we'll return."
Miette is a flower by a window that has just been opened.
With that, and a curt "Erno," Isa turns on a heel and leads the way off the ship.
Yves follows stiffly, having been promised... argument with His Lady, which will no doubt take a great deal of time, and wear on his nerves. Linnet hears footsteps and floats her way - silently - off the ship before they approach, blending into the crowd on the boardwalk just as Isa and Yves round the entryway. Behind the retreating lady and entourage, a short shadow slips into the vault. Orrey wanders over from where he was sketching the outside of the ship and follows behind everyone. "Success?"
Linnet looks at him, shrugs, looks around for Bast, sees nothing, and shrugs again. Isa does not blow her cover by stopping for conversation, but she can be heard muttering "fine it was fine going to change see you at the bar" as she whisks past. Sotto voce, Linnet tells Orrey, "I'll wait on him, you do your thing." Orrey turns away and does his best merchant hawking voice as he walks down the street away from Isa and Yves, "Five minutes for a portrait, 50 gil!" He flourishes his pen and looks around for any takers. Yves is still scurrying after Isa, though it's not entirely clear if he's being in character or just being... himself. ...well, she was going to wait, but the minutes drag on and she's not getting any less anxious. Figuring that Bast of all people can eel his way out of whatever the hell he's gotten into, Linnet swears under her breath and stalks off - then remembers to cock her parasol and stroll off instead - to the bar. The vault is the most secure section of the ship, as one would imagine, and extra precautions have been made here for this line of ship. The vault has room for four keys, all of which must be entered to open the door to gain access. The vault has its own self-contained power source; it is not connected to any of the lines running through the ship, so it will not be affected by any tampering to the ship itself. There is an alarm system connected to the vault that is connected to the ship's power, but how it interfaces with the vault itself is hard to determine. Without a shadow of a doubt, though, killing all power to the ship makes zero difference to the vault itself. It would affect the alarm in some way.
Further examination, seconds ticking into minutes, minutes ticking into... probably just more minutes, reveals that the alarm system is tied to a line of power coming from the captain's quarters, and the interface Bast found there before. That system -- which Bast will later learn is tied to the captain gaining access to the vault on their own, which then sends an alert to the four linked keys carried by the ship's officers -- can be overridden by cycling the ship's auxiliary power generator and then cutting the main power during the power cycle process, which will force a full power reset on the generators. If the vault is accessed during this time, the alarm tied to the four officer keys does not activate. "...huh." Bast leans back from the cable linkage by the alarm mechanism, tucking the tastefully designed cowling back into place. The ship is silent; the relief that no one's about to come across his investigation is swiftly overtaken by the realization that he doesn't actually know how much time has passed.
Shit.
Quietly, carefully, he heads off to find his crew. Meanwhile...
The Bar of Orgain-Cent, owned and operated by a retired occultist with a penchant for piano music and economic dissertations, is a popular recharge point for sailors and potential sailors, with many new hires happening here (with complimentary contract reviews by the staff). There are maybe eight other people in here when the last non-moogle of the Starfall shore party arrives. Isa is that last, as she could not maintain her cover persona a moment longer. Face scrubbed, hair braided, and clothes sensible, she drops into a chair next to Orrey. "Drink," she says in a single exhausted exhalation. Yves, who arrived slightly earlier, has already ordered, and slides a prepared glass over to Isa. "That was..." He pauses, and thinks better of finishing that sentence in several different ways. "...quite useful, I think!" Linnet returns from the restroom, unpinning her own hair - holding an entire fistful of bobby pins - and still wearing a very stressed expression. "If he's not here in an hour, do we go back for him?"
"I know, I know, he knows precisely what he's doing and besides, he's a grown adult and I don't need to worry like this, but...blow it, I'm still going to worry until he walks through that door."
"It's like I like you people or something." She laughs at herself - without much actual humor in it - and takes an absentminded sip of what turns out to be Yves' wine. "Oops, sorry." "Wait," Isa says, "he got separated?"
Linnet gives Isa a Look that hopefully says it all.
Isa makes a sound in the back of her throat. "Shit. We didn't see any security crew, but they were showing us the nice parts. Think he got grabbed?"
"Nah, at least not yet. Give it another hour, maybe two, then I'll work up a full frothy head of panic." "Well, he's the captain," Yves says with blithe confidence. "I'm sure he's fine. Probably skulking somewhere. He knows how to skulk when he really has a reason to skulk a thing."
"...is that how you use that verb?" ponders Linnet. "Does one skulk a thing directly? Or does it have a preposition with it?"
Isa nods. "Fair enough," she says, and sets to drinking. One of the patrons at the bar stands up, stretches, and offers her thanks to the bartender for the assistance negotiating a pay raise with her captain. She leaves a hefty tip, and before she goes, gives the man sitting next to her a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.
The man sitting next to her says his farewell and returns to his drink. His sandy blond hair is too long to go this long without seeing a hairbrush, and the beard has gone from 'scruffy' to 'thick.' The coat is the same, now that it's visible from their table.
Galeb "Galley" Rubio.
Last seen leaving Alterna with Cassiat Alyon in tow.
Not seen with Cassiat Alyon since.
Meanwhile...
Linnet is long gone by the time Bast makes his way out of the model Suri ship, to say nothing of the others. The rendezvous point isn't too far from there, though, and the path takes Bast through familiar territory.
One block is full of people who are out doing whatever it is they need to do to get by.
The next is much the same, and then suddenly gets a lot emptier.
"Well, well, Captain Bast." Bast doesn't stop, but he's suddenly acutely aware of where all of his weapons are. She steps out of the shadows, leaving no ripples in the puddles under her feet. The water sylph is a head shorter than Isa, towering over Bast, with short churning blue hair, sporting gray leather on her wiry frame. A bandolier of frozen daggers reflects what little light shines down the narrow pathway. "Long way from home, Strela. Earned a vacation?" He makes sure there's a wall at his back as he faces her, ears straining for signs of further...unwelcome acquaintances.
"If that's your charming way of asking if I'm here to kill you, you can relax. Keep your wings in," she says with a knowing smirk.
The responding absence of a smile is flatter than usual for Bast.
"No, I'd just heard you came into a new score, and I wanted to see it for myself. Playing at going straight? Building up a new little family of idiots?"
"The tall one seems like she'd take a lot longer to die than the rest of your friends did."
"Playing it by ear," replies Bast. "Can't afford to settle down, y'know."
"Of course. Hard to keep running if you settle down. If you settle down, you might get caught."
She puts her hands in her pockets. The jacket is thin enough that there almost certainly isn't enough room for more knives in there. "And no one likes it when family gets caught, do they?"
"You know it." He bites down on his lower lip, determined not to say more.
"I do." She grins, two teeth missing on the left, a gift from a previous encounter Bast had with her. "You look a lot like him, you know."
"Same pompom."
"Take too much longer and I might show you some proof of that." "Should have the goods within a week, if no one fucks up. That soon enough for you?"
"For me? No."
Fifteen seconds later, she shrugs.
"Unfortunately, I'm not calling the shots. Should be fine. Don't fuck it up."
"You fuck it up... well. Don't fuck it up. Leave it at that." She clicks her tongue through the gap in her teeth as she grins. "Watch the skies, Captain."
Bast spreads his hands and sketches a hint of a bow, without letting her out of his sight for a moment. "We done here? I have arrangements to make for the job."
"We're done."
She slinks back into the shadows. The puddles remain still. Bast waits two minutes before moving from his spot by the wall.
No one watches Bast, or follows him. The route to the bar acquires several switchbacks, alleys and other attempts to lose a tail that he doesn't actually think is there - or is needed. It's habit. Gives him time to think. Meanwhile, back at the bar... “So that’s gotta be where the bridge connects back to this floor.” Orrey edits some of the sketchier parts of his map based on what everyone else saw of the ship. Linnet has been debating whether she should try to strike up a conversation with Galley, not doing so, and shredding a disposable coaster into a pile of tiny, tiny fluff. Any second now, she's going to jump up, make a beeline back to the ship, and go hunting for the Captain.
Finally, she steals the rest of Isa's glass of wine, gulps it down, smooths her frazzled hair, takes a deep breath, and slides into the open seat next to Galley. She glances at him. "Is whatever you're having any good?" Galley does a legitimate double-take. "L-Linnet!" He glances at his half-empty beer, then back up at her. "It's, uh, it's pretty good?" he says, throwing a glance at the bartender to make sure he doesn't set off a lecture or seem ungrateful. "What are you doing here? Did you leave your ship?"
"Nah, just an errand. I'll have one of what he's having, please."
"So, uh." Linnet has the grace to look embarrassed. "Been a weird bit of time for you, I gather. How's tricks?"
He lowers his head. "Terrible." Yves orders a seltzer, on the principle that if this somehow turns into a fight with a techno band again, he should probably be sober this time. Linnet signals to the bartender to make it two, slides the second beer to Galley, and puts on her best listening voice. "...feel like letting off a bit of steam? Particularly to someone who's also familiar with how frustrating your girlfriend can be?"
"It's like she doesn't even know who I am," Galley says. After downing a third of his beer, he continues. "I managed to sign on that ship she's on two weeks ago, thought maybe I could get her to leave with me. Head back home or something, or jump a different ship and see what we could do. But she... she just looked right at me, like she didn't know me, and that was that. I was never able to really talk to her."
"I hate to say it, but it seems like they've got their hooks in her pretty deep, and they're pretty solid hook-sinkers to begin with. You're with them now too?"
"No. Jumped off yesterday. That's not the life I want, and I can't deal with her just looking at me like I'm anyone else on the ship." "Ah. ...got a plan beyond getting drunk enough to forget Cass exists?"
"No." He might as well be at a funeral.
(Linnet's tone is one of wry sympathy, not criticism. If she could, she'd join him.)
"...the woman who left just a bit ago, she wasn't a shipmate, was she? Because if they're looking for you..." "Her? No, no, she's just someone who covered a room for me last night. Just a friendly face here. I'm trying to hold onto as much gil as possible to make sure I can make it back to Saron. Just need to not ever speak to the Alyons again once I'm there, I guess..."
"Of anyone, I think they'd understand 'Cass is being kind of difficult.'" Linnet glances back toward the table, where Orrey is sketching in the crystal chocobo statues, because why not? Isa appears to have dozed off in her chair, and Yves is busy procuring more wine to replace what she drank (oops). Linnet is just in time to see Bast as he slips inside, takes in the tableau with a glance, and pulls up a chair by Isa. "Ah, hell. Y'know what, I'm probably going to get in trouble for making this decision without the captain around, but I think we can give you a lift back to Saron. I might pick your brain a little over dinner, okay? Just...try to stay out from underfoot, and if Orrey gives you hell - who am I kidding, if Orrey gives you slightly warmed-over heck, don't be afraid to give it back. Or get me." Linnet gives Galley a reassuring half-smile. "Don't drink yourself to death before I come back and get you, all right?"
Galley nods gratefully. "Thank you so much." “Cap.” Orrey says, drawing some more details in the coverlet on the captain’s bed.
Isa shakes herself out of her doze. "Oh good. Not dead. Linnet's talking to Cassiat's ex."
"Who is also not dead," Yves adds, helpfully. (Linnet pays her tab and Galley's and orders something greasy and carb-loaded, to be delivered to him in a bit.) "Right. ...pleasure, or business?" Bast glances towards the bar.
"Business," Linnet replies, "and it's coming along."
To accomplish this, Isa and Yves set out in disguise as a young Cardian noble attempting to spend as much gil as possible in a short period of time, and an assistant task with stopping her without actually stopping her.
This would allow the rest of the team, consisting of a captain well-versed in illegal activity accompanied by a librarian and an artist who were not, to slip into a ship built from the same blueprint that created the Seventh Dawn.
We join our brave adventurers as the misdirection and the investigations continue...
**
Bast strains his ears for any signs of crew as he takes a ladder deeper into the hold, looking for the engines. Linnet scrambles back down into the ship - as fast as one can scramble without tripping over their own feet - and makes a beeline for where she hopes Bast and Orrey still are. Mogri Miette, salesmoogle ordinaire, flits about, ensuring the young noble with the bulging purse is well taken care of, ready to answer any questions she or her meek and concerned assistant may have, including "where do I sign" and "is there a way I could somehow spend more money?" Orrey is still wandering and drawing a map.
Yves continues to exude financial anxiety at irregular intervals in all directions. Linnet bumps into Orrey - almost literally - and starts hunting for an exit. "That looks plenty thorough. You've done an excellent job. Can we get out of here before we break something and get caught?"
“What happens if we get caught?” Orrey asks absently as he adds a tiny gargoyle to the picture of the library.
"I have no idea, but I don't want the Dr. Cid equivalent in charge of this ship breathing down my neck. And also they probably charge us." Linnet blanches at the sheer size of the numbers involved. Bast's journey down the ladder and toward the stern of the ship eventually takes him to the engine room, which is open and inviting for any potential buyers to come kick the turbines. Three generators wired together, able to run at half capacity with just one engine for a short duration, able to boost its own capabilities by fifty percent by activating all three generators, drawing on ambient aether in the air to ensure anything this ship needs to do, it can do. With this ship, it's mostly a matter of 'get somewhere fast and look good while doing it,' as this ship has no weapons installed or thief-ejecting countermeasures available. It can all be managed from this one room, which is rather convenient for the crew. Bast tries not to drool as he circles the generators, looking for useful points of failure even as he takes mental notes for future...improvements. “Find anything interesting, Linnet? There’s a sweet captain’s suite with an AMAZING bed,” Orrey says, still mapping and moving along at a moderate clip.
"Um. Interesting, maybe. Relevant, probably not," replies Linnet. "Seriously, the scale and the emptiness of this ship is creeping me the hell out and if I look over my shoulder too much longer I'm going to trip over my own feet. Don't mind me."
Orrey turns and takes in Linnet’s current state and asks gently, “Need to get out of here?”
Linnet breathes deeply. "...maybe I'd be more useful on lookout duty."
“You’re doing just fine at infiltration and espionage.” Orrey grins at her. “But I think I have everything I need. Let’s find our way out and meet up with everyone.” The engines have plenty of points of failure, and one can add considerably more if one uses the right level of explosives. Sabotage is definitely possible. Sabotage that can't be discovered for a while is harder, but still possible. Linnet smiles tightly at Orrey and hugs him briefly, then makes her way back toward the entrance and tucks herself in a conveniently out-of-the-way niche, where she can see the way out, but out can't see her. Head full of interesting possibilities, Bast makes his way back to where he last heard the tour. They'd have to show off the vault to a noble at some point, right? Sound carries well in an empty ship; finding the salesmoogle and the potential customers is simple. Isa has, at some point, acquired a glass of something fizzy and alcoholic. "Wellllllll," she drags out, her other hand holding her elbow in a posture of thoughtful defensiveness. "You've certainly put quite the ship together."
"Alberich and Marquez are both brilliant minds in their fields," Miette says proudly.
"Oh, absolutely," Isa agrees. "And it would be incredible to own something one of a kind from them..."
Yves twitches an ear, as if waiting to hear something about even more luxury packages.
Miette readies herself as she reaches the top of the hill of commission anticipation. "I would be honored and overjoyed to help you cement your legacy." Isa comments, mostly to herself, rueful, "But it's not one of a kind, is it..." Her disappointment is immeasurable, and her day is ruined.
Miette cannot find a way to respond to that comment that keeps her own opinions from surfacing.
"There was that prototype," Yves murmurs. "Already in operation."
"M-merely a proof of concept," Miette tries.
"It's not as if Alberich and Marquez would be designing something for my lady," Yves says, warming to this line of argument. "They already made this for someone else, and then a hypothetical buyer. It's not... personalized. Not unique."
"Oh, Erno," Isa says, chastising. "I am certain that we could discuss bespoke modifications to make her my own."
"Absolutely!" Miette says, leaping for the open window on this sinking ship. "And I'm sure for someone of your stature, we could see about contracting Alberich or Marquez themselves for any modifications you would need..."
Isa gives a smile that could cut glass. "I'd expect no less. But I'll have to think about what I'd like to change."
Miette's brittle smile struggles against the edge. "Well, when you have decided, I would be honored to further assist you." "Oh, you've been lovely." Isa's smile warms a touch, and she gestures to Yves. "Once we're at our hôtel" (she pronounces the circumflex) "and Erno exhausts himself listing his objections, I promise that we'll return."
Miette is a flower by a window that has just been opened.
With that, and a curt "Erno," Isa turns on a heel and leads the way off the ship.
Yves follows stiffly, having been promised... argument with His Lady, which will no doubt take a great deal of time, and wear on his nerves. Linnet hears footsteps and floats her way - silently - off the ship before they approach, blending into the crowd on the boardwalk just as Isa and Yves round the entryway. Behind the retreating lady and entourage, a short shadow slips into the vault. Orrey wanders over from where he was sketching the outside of the ship and follows behind everyone. "Success?"
Linnet looks at him, shrugs, looks around for Bast, sees nothing, and shrugs again. Isa does not blow her cover by stopping for conversation, but she can be heard muttering "fine it was fine going to change see you at the bar" as she whisks past. Sotto voce, Linnet tells Orrey, "I'll wait on him, you do your thing." Orrey turns away and does his best merchant hawking voice as he walks down the street away from Isa and Yves, "Five minutes for a portrait, 50 gil!" He flourishes his pen and looks around for any takers. Yves is still scurrying after Isa, though it's not entirely clear if he's being in character or just being... himself. ...well, she was going to wait, but the minutes drag on and she's not getting any less anxious. Figuring that Bast of all people can eel his way out of whatever the hell he's gotten into, Linnet swears under her breath and stalks off - then remembers to cock her parasol and stroll off instead - to the bar. The vault is the most secure section of the ship, as one would imagine, and extra precautions have been made here for this line of ship. The vault has room for four keys, all of which must be entered to open the door to gain access. The vault has its own self-contained power source; it is not connected to any of the lines running through the ship, so it will not be affected by any tampering to the ship itself. There is an alarm system connected to the vault that is connected to the ship's power, but how it interfaces with the vault itself is hard to determine. Without a shadow of a doubt, though, killing all power to the ship makes zero difference to the vault itself. It would affect the alarm in some way.
Further examination, seconds ticking into minutes, minutes ticking into... probably just more minutes, reveals that the alarm system is tied to a line of power coming from the captain's quarters, and the interface Bast found there before. That system -- which Bast will later learn is tied to the captain gaining access to the vault on their own, which then sends an alert to the four linked keys carried by the ship's officers -- can be overridden by cycling the ship's auxiliary power generator and then cutting the main power during the power cycle process, which will force a full power reset on the generators. If the vault is accessed during this time, the alarm tied to the four officer keys does not activate. "...huh." Bast leans back from the cable linkage by the alarm mechanism, tucking the tastefully designed cowling back into place. The ship is silent; the relief that no one's about to come across his investigation is swiftly overtaken by the realization that he doesn't actually know how much time has passed.
Shit.
Quietly, carefully, he heads off to find his crew. Meanwhile...
The Bar of Orgain-Cent, owned and operated by a retired occultist with a penchant for piano music and economic dissertations, is a popular recharge point for sailors and potential sailors, with many new hires happening here (with complimentary contract reviews by the staff). There are maybe eight other people in here when the last non-moogle of the Starfall shore party arrives. Isa is that last, as she could not maintain her cover persona a moment longer. Face scrubbed, hair braided, and clothes sensible, she drops into a chair next to Orrey. "Drink," she says in a single exhausted exhalation. Yves, who arrived slightly earlier, has already ordered, and slides a prepared glass over to Isa. "That was..." He pauses, and thinks better of finishing that sentence in several different ways. "...quite useful, I think!" Linnet returns from the restroom, unpinning her own hair - holding an entire fistful of bobby pins - and still wearing a very stressed expression. "If he's not here in an hour, do we go back for him?"
"I know, I know, he knows precisely what he's doing and besides, he's a grown adult and I don't need to worry like this, but...blow it, I'm still going to worry until he walks through that door."
"It's like I like you people or something." She laughs at herself - without much actual humor in it - and takes an absentminded sip of what turns out to be Yves' wine. "Oops, sorry." "Wait," Isa says, "he got separated?"
Linnet gives Isa a Look that hopefully says it all.
Isa makes a sound in the back of her throat. "Shit. We didn't see any security crew, but they were showing us the nice parts. Think he got grabbed?"
"Nah, at least not yet. Give it another hour, maybe two, then I'll work up a full frothy head of panic." "Well, he's the captain," Yves says with blithe confidence. "I'm sure he's fine. Probably skulking somewhere. He knows how to skulk when he really has a reason to skulk a thing."
"...is that how you use that verb?" ponders Linnet. "Does one skulk a thing directly? Or does it have a preposition with it?"
Isa nods. "Fair enough," she says, and sets to drinking. One of the patrons at the bar stands up, stretches, and offers her thanks to the bartender for the assistance negotiating a pay raise with her captain. She leaves a hefty tip, and before she goes, gives the man sitting next to her a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.
The man sitting next to her says his farewell and returns to his drink. His sandy blond hair is too long to go this long without seeing a hairbrush, and the beard has gone from 'scruffy' to 'thick.' The coat is the same, now that it's visible from their table.
Galeb "Galley" Rubio.
Last seen leaving Alterna with Cassiat Alyon in tow.
Not seen with Cassiat Alyon since.
Meanwhile...
Linnet is long gone by the time Bast makes his way out of the model Suri ship, to say nothing of the others. The rendezvous point isn't too far from there, though, and the path takes Bast through familiar territory.
One block is full of people who are out doing whatever it is they need to do to get by.
The next is much the same, and then suddenly gets a lot emptier.
"Well, well, Captain Bast." Bast doesn't stop, but he's suddenly acutely aware of where all of his weapons are. She steps out of the shadows, leaving no ripples in the puddles under her feet. The water sylph is a head shorter than Isa, towering over Bast, with short churning blue hair, sporting gray leather on her wiry frame. A bandolier of frozen daggers reflects what little light shines down the narrow pathway. "Long way from home, Strela. Earned a vacation?" He makes sure there's a wall at his back as he faces her, ears straining for signs of further...unwelcome acquaintances.
"If that's your charming way of asking if I'm here to kill you, you can relax. Keep your wings in," she says with a knowing smirk.
The responding absence of a smile is flatter than usual for Bast.
"No, I'd just heard you came into a new score, and I wanted to see it for myself. Playing at going straight? Building up a new little family of idiots?"
"The tall one seems like she'd take a lot longer to die than the rest of your friends did."
"Playing it by ear," replies Bast. "Can't afford to settle down, y'know."
"Of course. Hard to keep running if you settle down. If you settle down, you might get caught."
She puts her hands in her pockets. The jacket is thin enough that there almost certainly isn't enough room for more knives in there. "And no one likes it when family gets caught, do they?"
"You know it." He bites down on his lower lip, determined not to say more.
"I do." She grins, two teeth missing on the left, a gift from a previous encounter Bast had with her. "You look a lot like him, you know."
"Same pompom."
"Take too much longer and I might show you some proof of that." "Should have the goods within a week, if no one fucks up. That soon enough for you?"
"For me? No."
Fifteen seconds later, she shrugs.
"Unfortunately, I'm not calling the shots. Should be fine. Don't fuck it up."
"You fuck it up... well. Don't fuck it up. Leave it at that." She clicks her tongue through the gap in her teeth as she grins. "Watch the skies, Captain."
Bast spreads his hands and sketches a hint of a bow, without letting her out of his sight for a moment. "We done here? I have arrangements to make for the job."
"We're done."
She slinks back into the shadows. The puddles remain still. Bast waits two minutes before moving from his spot by the wall.
No one watches Bast, or follows him. The route to the bar acquires several switchbacks, alleys and other attempts to lose a tail that he doesn't actually think is there - or is needed. It's habit. Gives him time to think. Meanwhile, back at the bar... “So that’s gotta be where the bridge connects back to this floor.” Orrey edits some of the sketchier parts of his map based on what everyone else saw of the ship. Linnet has been debating whether she should try to strike up a conversation with Galley, not doing so, and shredding a disposable coaster into a pile of tiny, tiny fluff. Any second now, she's going to jump up, make a beeline back to the ship, and go hunting for the Captain.
Finally, she steals the rest of Isa's glass of wine, gulps it down, smooths her frazzled hair, takes a deep breath, and slides into the open seat next to Galley. She glances at him. "Is whatever you're having any good?" Galley does a legitimate double-take. "L-Linnet!" He glances at his half-empty beer, then back up at her. "It's, uh, it's pretty good?" he says, throwing a glance at the bartender to make sure he doesn't set off a lecture or seem ungrateful. "What are you doing here? Did you leave your ship?"
"Nah, just an errand. I'll have one of what he's having, please."
"So, uh." Linnet has the grace to look embarrassed. "Been a weird bit of time for you, I gather. How's tricks?"
He lowers his head. "Terrible." Yves orders a seltzer, on the principle that if this somehow turns into a fight with a techno band again, he should probably be sober this time. Linnet signals to the bartender to make it two, slides the second beer to Galley, and puts on her best listening voice. "...feel like letting off a bit of steam? Particularly to someone who's also familiar with how frustrating your girlfriend can be?"
"It's like she doesn't even know who I am," Galley says. After downing a third of his beer, he continues. "I managed to sign on that ship she's on two weeks ago, thought maybe I could get her to leave with me. Head back home or something, or jump a different ship and see what we could do. But she... she just looked right at me, like she didn't know me, and that was that. I was never able to really talk to her."
"I hate to say it, but it seems like they've got their hooks in her pretty deep, and they're pretty solid hook-sinkers to begin with. You're with them now too?"
"No. Jumped off yesterday. That's not the life I want, and I can't deal with her just looking at me like I'm anyone else on the ship." "Ah. ...got a plan beyond getting drunk enough to forget Cass exists?"
"No." He might as well be at a funeral.
(Linnet's tone is one of wry sympathy, not criticism. If she could, she'd join him.)
"...the woman who left just a bit ago, she wasn't a shipmate, was she? Because if they're looking for you..." "Her? No, no, she's just someone who covered a room for me last night. Just a friendly face here. I'm trying to hold onto as much gil as possible to make sure I can make it back to Saron. Just need to not ever speak to the Alyons again once I'm there, I guess..."
"Of anyone, I think they'd understand 'Cass is being kind of difficult.'" Linnet glances back toward the table, where Orrey is sketching in the crystal chocobo statues, because why not? Isa appears to have dozed off in her chair, and Yves is busy procuring more wine to replace what she drank (oops). Linnet is just in time to see Bast as he slips inside, takes in the tableau with a glance, and pulls up a chair by Isa. "Ah, hell. Y'know what, I'm probably going to get in trouble for making this decision without the captain around, but I think we can give you a lift back to Saron. I might pick your brain a little over dinner, okay? Just...try to stay out from underfoot, and if Orrey gives you hell - who am I kidding, if Orrey gives you slightly warmed-over heck, don't be afraid to give it back. Or get me." Linnet gives Galley a reassuring half-smile. "Don't drink yourself to death before I come back and get you, all right?"
Galley nods gratefully. "Thank you so much." “Cap.” Orrey says, drawing some more details in the coverlet on the captain’s bed.
Isa shakes herself out of her doze. "Oh good. Not dead. Linnet's talking to Cassiat's ex."
"Who is also not dead," Yves adds, helpfully. (Linnet pays her tab and Galley's and orders something greasy and carb-loaded, to be delivered to him in a bit.) "Right. ...pleasure, or business?" Bast glances towards the bar.
"Business," Linnet replies, "and it's coming along."
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