The day had finally come. The chosen ones who were to be the first people to leave the island since its inception were to gather. The sunrise was reflecting off the water with hues of gold. It made the long stretch of pier as if a walkway to heaven. Well, heaven curtailed by a rusty twenty foot fence that kept wayward Islanders off the pier.

A large sign hung at the gate that guarded the pier. 'Turn back. No unauthorized access - by order of the king." The gate looked like it might actually be rusted shut, making it all the more impeding. Nonetheless, the chosen ones were instructed to be here bright and early.

As all good little evildoers, they apparently cannot follow directions as the only person present so far at the pier was a filthy and unshorn looking vagrant who was nursing a bottle of green liquor.

In reply to Her Majesty (msg # 1):

Bright and early.  An interesting commandment, as that's obviously what no one wants to deal with at this ungodly hour of morning.   Except Luck LeFay.  Chance's twin brother just about drags his sibling to the pier, the look of completely being awake at odds with the sanguine sleepiness playing across the other twin's face.   An exceptionally wide yawn later only ticks the scales two points towards being some semblance of 'here-ness' ... not the most auspicious start.

Chance finally drags himself out of his brother's grasp and shoves him away, "Give it a rest willya?  We're here... we're here... Not like it's gonna change nothin'.  Hell, even Mean Mr. Mustard over there has the proper way of it.  Better to get drunk at this moment, because they ain't gonna accept us over there anymore than our over exile'ees"    He finds a comfortable box to sit down on, and draws his lute around.   He idly plucks on the strings before continuing, "Hell, they'll probably only like you because you're all Mr. Law and Order... I ~AM~ the Law, over here..."

"Shut up, Chance," is Luck's response, "Just because you always think you're right doesn't make you always thinking rightly.   You'd do to try and get along with them out there because we can make a difference!  Show people have reformed..."

"Hah... yeah... reformed," Chance scoffs, while picking at the lute... Making music without intent.

A rickety rolling sound precedes a tall-ish man with a cart. He stops to the side of the gate before looking up at the ones here. Amongst the miscellaneous items on the cart there is a bowl of what seems to be magma, an anvil, and a furry humanoid curled up on the bottom of the cart in a well cushioned bedding.

Looking towards the two not drinking, he bows and starts motioning some with his hands before he turns to his cart and dips some metal into the magma and pulling it out red-hot. He begins working on the metal.

In reply to Her Majesty (msg # 1):

With the tapping starting on the cart Alana gets the hint that it is ..... morning...
 She hops out of the cart fixes her fur and gets her apron and gloves on ready to help. She waits till Alameth asks for a tool.

Kronk is slowly walking up trying to keep all of Alana's bags from hitting the ground. He sets them all down gently and takes a seat on one of them.

Anyone that had not been comatose for about a hot minute on the island knew that the daughter of Commander Rourke claimed all the limited waters between the barrier and the island as hers. Today was no different as Anne J.Rourke floated out from under the Pier in a dingy.  She had been clearly asleep a few minutes before when all the racket started.

Her huge mane of red hair was bed mussed, a blanket was tossed to one side and a pillow lay in bottom of the hull. Just as evident was that she had had another massive fight with her father because he was the only one on the island that could leave bruises on her like that. One hazel eye was racooned and the lips split on that side too.  There was a bloody bit of bandage taped to her other ear where one of her earrings had probably been ripped out and more bandages on her arms.

Aside from looking like a prize fighter at the end of a tournament she was looking as good as ever though. Somehow she wore the injuries like badges of honor...though she pointedly did NOT look at Chance or speak to him, or wave at him...as she rowed the boat against the rocks and nimbly hopped out on the wet slippery surfaces with her stuffed knapsack over one shoulder, her pistol and sword on her belt, and a some thing that might be a bird cage with a cloth drape over it in her hand.

Meanwhile over near the cart as soon as the first crack of the hammer on steal rings out in the morning air... a Black Cat larger than many small dogs explodes out of his hiding place in the hay with a Hiss to wake the dead.  Apparently Drizz had snuck in and snuggled into the hay next to where Alani had been sleeping but now he stood arched in classic angry cat position all fluffed up fur, bared claws and hissing teeth a few feet from both the cart and Alani.

Though the feline was recently claimed as the pet of Gisela, it could be frequently found just about everywhere at any given time.... oddly it was usually also sleeping at the time. It was kind of like The Angels, those stone monsters that frozen in place when observed but moved if you blinked. Only with Drizz the default was napping cat!

As AJ stood upon the pier, surveying the scene without seeming to survey the scene, the cloth drape moved slightly.  A sound somewhat like what a muffled, tinkling chime drifted out front beneath the cloth.  AJ glanced toward the hidden object in her hand, then laughed.  The chime hit an offkey, dissonant sound, bringing out even more laughter.

The drape shifted, then shifted again.  Whatever bird was in that cage was neither happy, nor willing to remain covered.  Several more diligent moments of work rewarded the efforts, and the drape floated down to the pier.

The object in AJ's hand was not a birdcage at all.  In fact, it looked like a lamp.  Or perhaps several lamps.  At the top of the structure was the top of an old gaslight, its glass still intact.  Beneath it were strapped a pair of bullseye lanterns.  At the bottom of the strange construct, a curving Arabian lamp.  Standing upon the handle was three inches of spunk and spitfire in the form of a fairy.

Nyxia pointed a tiny finger toward AJ and let her have it with another chiming chastisement.  When AJ only laughed again, she stamped her foot and harumphed, but then fell into tinkling laughter herself.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Wed 22 Mar 2017.

At first, it would seem Gisela was late.  Technically, that was true.  She didn’t stand at the pier.  However, others could spot her at a small distance, standing with her mother.  Bluma O’Cuinn, Gi’s mother, wasn’t often seen out and about, but apparently had made this the exception to the rule.

Gisela stood stoically, her posture perfect and demure, mirroring some aspects of her mothers.  Her mother, however, was more animated and dominating than Gisela.  No voices were raised, though, so what was said remained between the two.  This continued for a few minutes.  After that, Gisela gathered up a bag from the ground beside her as well as something not as easy to make out.

Turning down the path, Gisela and her mother headed towards the pier.  Gisela remained quiet as her mother spoke in a low voice.  Several feet out, however, Gisela turned with a practiced smile.  “Mother, I understand.  I’ll make you proud.  But, as you can see,” she gestured slightly behind her, “that I’m already late.  And, it’s only those of us traveling together that are meeting here.  No scandal, and nothing to concern yourself over.”

Bluma’s eyes had followed her daughter’s gesture and a more practiced, yet clearly more fake smile graced her face.  “Oh, dear AJ.  It’s so good to see you again.”  Her attention turned back towards her daughter.  “Perhaps you’re right.  I would so hate to interrupt such a meeting of, well, such worthy people.”  Yeah, anyone with a brain could sense the sarcasm.  “Now, let me look at you one last time.  Hm, well, I guess it’s too late to fret now.”

The disappointment in Gisela as her mother looked her over head to toe was obvious.  Equally obvious was the fact it was undeserved.  Gisela was, as always, a sight to behold.  Exceptionally beautiful, the extra effort was obvious.  The hint of makeup made her gray eyes shine.  Her dark hair was loose, though adorned by a beaded circlet, and waves rolled down her back.  Her gown was wide-necked and scooped, though didn’t reveal much in the way of cleavage.  It was long sleeved and barely graced the ground.   The back of the sleeves and the back of the dress tied to adjust the dress perfectly to her figure. The green fabric was dark and rich, fitting for the princess she was, and the hem and trim was similar in knotwork design of her circlet.

“Here, let me,” her mother offered once more, withdrawing a comb and brushing it through Gisela’s hair as if to adjust it one last time.  Gisela paled, however, falling eerily still.  “Much better.  Now, just remember who you are and you’ll be fine.”

“Of course, Mother,” Gisela says tightly, the smile never faltering.  As if she wasn’t about to lose her daughter to the mainland, Bluma turned and made her way from the pier and back towards town.  Gisela glanced over her shoulder at AJ, her eyes going to her friend’s hands, and shaking her head.  She waited until her mother was out of sight before joining the others.

Apparently, the other item she’d gathered as she’d picked up her pack was a large thermos of sorts, still putting off steam.  She took one look at AJ, however, and sighed.  She set aside the thermos and put the bag down beside her.  She kneeled to pull out a couple of items from the bag.  “Here,” she says simply, offering AJ a small satchel of flowery smelling herbs.  It was cool to the touch, an ice pack of sorts.  Then, without another word, she applied a layer of ointment the skin around the eye and other injuries.  That accomplished, she signs a greeting to Alameth and Alani.


This message was last edited by the player at 04:23, Wed 22 Mar 2017.

In reply to Gisela O'Cuinn (msg # 8):

When AJ received the small head shake from Gi it was because she had loosened the revolver in its' holster,the weapon slung so it would be drawn across her by her off hand and the sword was on the opposite shapely pirate garb clad hip. Her expression had silently asked, "Can I please shoot her as a parting gift?"

But no she did not get to shoot anyone...and Gi slapping ointment and an Icepack on her face was pretty much just like every other gods forsaken monday. She accepted the ministrations in silence then pulls a hip flask of Rum from her belt and handed it to Gi again like this was just a routine they were used to.

Her dad was a drunk, AJ was NOT. She kept the booze mostly for actual Medicinal purposes and not to go get trashed on. Instead she tended to favor the mellow highs of Big B's herbal cigarettes actually or pure adrenaline.... she was well known for starting fights for the simple joy of it and was in fact a rather dangerous customer in her own right even if her father used her face for a mop often enough.

Heart approached the docks, smoking on a small butt and looking a mixture of bored and unimpressed.  Draped in a worn overcoat, the left arm which bore a hand sewn patch that openly declared the young man a member of the Deck, he was flanked by two others.  While his own patch declared his rank in the gang with an embroidered gothic heart adorned by a crown; his two companion’s patches were emblazoned each with a spade.

The young woman, with fiery red hair and a subtle smile, had her spade adorned with as smaller crown.  She stood off to Quinten’s right and whispered something into his ear as they approached.  The younger man had a blatant smirk and cocky swagger as he strode at Quinten’s left.  A cockscomb sat askew atop the spade on his patch and two tiny cat ears peaked out of the mess of hair upon his head.

Reaching the pier the trio paused.  Taking his between between his thumb and index finger Quinten took a long drag as he looked about.  “So,” he began as he blew out the smoke, turning his attention back to what remained of his smoke,” I’m here.  Flicking the remnants directly towards the sign on the gate and nailing the word “King” just off center he turned back to his compatriots and shrugged.  “Now what?”

Gisela wasn't known to be a drinker either.  Still she accepted the offered rum.  She put the container of ointment back in her bag before pulling out three  small cups, well-used, but probably about as disposable as they come.  She added some coffee to each of the three, adding rum to only one of them.

Returning the flask to its proper owner, Gi also passes one of the cups of plain coffee off to AJ.  She took a sip of the other plain.  "Chance," she calls out, offering the third, laced cup of coffee-rum to the twin she knew. The thermos was large, leaving plenty left if others desired.

In reply to Gisela O'Cuinn (msg # 11):

Chance starts using Alameth's hammer blows as a timed beat to strum his instrument to.  He shakes his head as AJ makes her appearance, but keeps his teeth together.  Something of a minor miracle.   However, as Gisela's mother shows her colors... The bard strikes up something of a subtly cutting song in retaliation for the prickly disdain she leaves in her wake...

He starts singing..

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'

All the while the edges of a smug smirk edge his mouth, and he's watching the older lady walk off... However, he stands up while continuing and edges towards Gi to collect the coffee mug...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aVUDdQS2UxA

In reply to Gisela O'Cuinn (msg # 11):

A shadowy wolf appears on the docks out of nowhere.  It crosses paths with Gisela's mother and lets out a vicious bark as it passes that makes her jump out of her skin.  The shrill shriek is stark contrast to the song and very keen ears could pick up the malicious chuckle that came from the night-colored wolf.  It was one of G'mork's children to be sure, one called S'ulfr.  One that spent a lot of time with the ranger who lived out near the dark wood, the human son of the Big Bad.  The big woodsman was not there but his dog sure enough was.

"Filthy mongrel," said Gisela's mother in protest.

"Sorry," said the dark wolf, amusement underlying his tone, "thought I smelled a witch."

"How dare you!  Low-born little cur," she said as she gathered herself up and haughtily continued on.  That whispery growling chuckle was easier to identify as he came closer to the group and sat.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Thu 23 Mar 2017.

Drizz finished spazzing at the clanking and slunk over towards the Gi, his pet human, to see if she remembered to bring him any cream. But he shouldn't have worried as a second flask appeared in AJ's hand at his approach.

That meant he could give the approaching Mutt the cat equivalent of a middle finger with his tail flicks and still keep his gaze on that tasty fairy morsel...he had not been able to Catch Nyxia yet but when he did...mmmm she was going to taste SO Good.

In reply to Drizz (Cat) (msg # 14):

A small laugh came out of AJ at the look on Drizz's face as he came up licking his chops at Nyxia. She had remembered the cat's cream and gave it to Gi to pour but she quirked a thumb at Gi at the same time, "Tell Gi what you just told me Nyxia. She will get a kick out of it while we wait on Bigby to get his lazy shaggy ass here already. Even his dog is more punctual than he is."

Nyxia glanced down at Drizz and refrained from sticking her tongue out at the cat.  She kept a wary eye on the feline even was she waved a greeting.  "It wasn't important," she said.  "Hi, Gi.  How, um, flam-- flammable are cats, exactly?"

With all the new arrivals, and the calming of the baby kitten, Alameth begins pointing at Mr. Heart while mouthing something into Alani's ear while signing quite rapidly with his hands. To those that don't know sign it just seems as he is getting very active, but he has only really signed "Hand me the ladle please, I want to make sure the kitten isn't as flammable." before laughing.

After Alani hands him his ladle, he drops his metallic ring that he has been working on into the water warming it up slightly before he takes a large ladleful of hotish water towards both Drizz and Nyxia. He then turns to his assistant again and signs, "Now where are the rest of my playing cards? I only see three of them here and I don't think I can play solitaire with that many."

(OOC: Target area is Gisela, Drizz, Nyxia, and AJ. It's completely freeplay so feel free to dodge/react at will. Take care to realize that the ladle-ful is built big enough to be large enough for a 7' tall 20 strength man making his own tools, so probably several cups of water.)

In reply to Alameth (msg # 17):

When that gob of water came raining down on him Drizz did not spazz out again. He didn't run off or hide or hiss....and it might have been that abyssal silence as he turned his drenched face to look at Alameth that made people remember that he was rumored to be the son of a dark and evil feline god.

He turned a gaze upon that giant oaf a man that would have reduced a wave of rats to crispy orderves. But despite its inability to actually kill the titanic dumb mute oaf because he cowardly hid behind the protection of the magical suppression field...it's message was loud and clear.


This message was last edited by the player at 21:44, Fri 24 Mar 2017.

Nyxia opened her mouth to elaborate on her question.  Certainly all of a cat's fur would burn, but Drizz being Drizz would very likely take poorly to being set on fire.  More than likely, if such a scenario was ever to occur, Drizz would run around like a cat set on fire and very likely other things would catch fire as well.  It would be a terrible situation.

She turned to Drizz.  He was reasonable, as far as cats went.  Perhaps she could convince him to stay still.  The question began to form on her lips.

[Reflex Save: 24]

Then she saw the giant fling the water.  Her wings blurred into furious action and Nyxia was airborne.  She flitted with a twist of her body, dragonfly wings taking her out of watery harm's way.  She let out a shriek of alarm as she moved.  She really wished her diminutive voice sounded less adorable to large people, especially when she was upset.

"Hey," she cried, shaking a finger toward Alameth as she came around the side of her now-dripping home, still held aloft by AJ.

In reply to Nyxia (msg # 19):

AJ... was not as lucky. She had been looking worriedly at the little firebug Nyxia when the tiny cutie shot flying away; and so she had not been looking in the direction of the waters approach.  She was wearing her usual sort of pirate attire, an underbust corset with a white frill necked blouse... and the water caught her square in the chest.

Unfortunately for Chance and the other boys she was also wearing a leather half jacket with elbow sleeves and was able to immediately cover her wet tshirt contest bosom with the leather sides, deftly buttoning it even one handed. She looked back at the blacksmith almost as murderously as the cat had..."Your going to Pay for that in our next sparring match Alameth," She said and signed for the mute....then added a universal and degenerate hand gesture that had nothing to do with sign language.

In reply to AJ Rourke (msg # 20):

Gisela hadn't been looking at Alameth, either.  The mute tended to remain silent, even if the silence tended to be punctuated with hammer on metal and the hiss of flash-cooling.  So, she hadn't realized anything was wrong until after she'd poured the cream and was turning to return the flask to AJ.  At that point, the pixie had darted out of range and she'd barely managed to turn and see what was going on.

And got full-on force of the rest of the water missing the other three.  Luckily, her clothing didn't change opacity.  However, it went from well-fitted to clinging for its life.  Water dripped from her chin.  Hair that had hung loose around her face now hung loosely or stuck to her cheeks.  Shock colored her expression as she took a deep, steadying breath.  Kneeling, she grabbed a small cloth from her bag and wiped her face.  She slid the now-wet circlet off her  head, folding the cloth in half and pressing the circlet between the two halves.  With a free hand, she pushes the hair back from her face, using a small hair clip to keep the wet portions back.

She shoots a look at AJ that pretty much says, 'Yep, my luck.'

"You realize we don't have time to change?"  Gi asks Alameth, knowing his hearing works just fine and it's his responses that require sign.  She gives AJ a rueful smile.  "Guess making a good impression was asking a little too much."

In reply to Gisela O'Cuinn (msg # 21):

Being the lucky sort, Chance steps back from the pair plus two with his cup of coffee just prior to the wetting.  His eyes narrow as he appraises the scene before him, and takes a drag off the cup of coffee.   The teen comments without editorial, "Eight of Ten."  That is, of course, until his twin slaps him upside the back of his head... and a withering glare is the response...

CK let out a shamelessly amused cackle, leaned over and whispered something to Quinn that garnered a sharp look from Ilsa.  Quinn chuckled and smacked CK in the chest with the back of his hand in a wordless retort that was answered in kind.  "I don't know," he called out as he fished around in his coat pocket, producing another short white stick which he held between his lips as he continued to speak.  "Some people might need just that kind of help with impressions," he added with an unmistakable innuendo as his eyes flickered to AJ.

Pulling a match from his pocket he lit it with his thumb, and then lit the stick in his mouth.  Taking a long drag he glanced towards Alameth.  "Play with yourself often don't you?  I would have brought more," Quinn added exhaling smoke, "but we wouldn't want anyone think I was moving on their turf...if you can call this dump turf," he added dismissively as he glanced about.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:00, Sat 25 Mar 2017.

In reply to Quinten Heart (msg # 23):

Wolf came by while Quinten was making his derisive comments.  Here was another man topping seven feet but unlike the big smith was a whisper until he got close enough to hand the girls something: flat rocks.

"Heat them up on his fire and you can use a piece of leather to roll them on your clothes," he said.  He would know.  Staying alive in the wilderness, among other things, meant staying dry. "If you have something else to change into that is."

Alani laughs lightly at the wet cat and then bites it back down (remembering water is no joke) and she would hate for that to happen to herself (water bad). She keeps handing Alameth his tools when he asks for them like a good helper (takes the job very seriously), her ears turned to the conversation. Her huge fluffy tail sways back and forth as she whispers something to Alameth when a snide comment is made. Going about her work she ignores the riff raff and stares at the fairy and her ears twitch intently when it makes its little sounds, Which in turn makes Alani ears, tail and nose twitch.