The Cloudcutter approached Undertown from the south under cover of darkness, just over the Edge so they wouldn't be seen. The endless expanse of clouds stretched off to infinity on the ship's left. Craggy stone sped by on it's right.

Alex called softly to Raff when the gigantic flight rock that held Sanctaphrax came into view. The floating city slowly bobbed on the end of the Great Chain, it's massive iron links alternately straining, then slack, straining, then slack. The warmers must be having a time of it stabilizing the city this soon after sunset and it's dropping temperatures, scrambling to warm the rock so it didn't break away from the ground.

Raff slowed the Cloudcutter, gently raising it so it was just under the lip of the cliff. The Captain usually handled piloting of this nature, but he was sick. Weak. Though he had tried, he couldn't move quickly enough, barely had the strength to pull the weight levers. Raff had relieved him, sent his haggard Captain off to bed, assuring him that he knew where to go.

The smuggler's dock was low to the ground on Undertown's south side. Other airships, merchants and Patrol vessels, docked at the highest points in the sprawling city's skyline. Built with buoyant wood so they didn't collapse under their own weight, the tallest buildings in Undertown were either docks, or owned by the wealthiest citizens. Height equaled prestige. Closer to Sanctaphrax.

The diminutive stormchaser attracted no notice as Raff piloted her up and over the Edge, slipping along close to the ground until they reached the dock. The crew stood at the rails, ropes in hand, until the dock workers signaled. Quickly, the Cloudcutter was lashed down under the cover of ramshackle roofs, and the complex cage of heat lamps set up around the flight rock to keep it neutrally buoyant so the ship didn't strain at it's moorings.

The crew prepared to disembark, those chosen to remain behind on watch taking their stations.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:53, Sun 18 Aug 2019.

   Jane couldn't help but watch it all with wide eyes. She knew the city, but always with her feet on the rocks. Empty bags slung over her shoulders, and Brax's list in her pocket, she followed the cook as he had instructed her. "Stay close." He said again, voice low and directed at her. She nodded to show him that she had heard and took a step closer to him. She took a deep, steadying breath as they filed down the gang plank and stood on the dock.

All eyes turned to the ship when the Captain, supported by Damien, began his slow way down the gangplank. Behind them was Beau and Connor, carrying Carson on a litter.

In the few days it had taken them to reach Undertown, the Captain seemed to have shrunk. His long hair was tied back practically, and his clothing subdued. His face looked thinner than usual, hollow at the cheeks and temples, and he was pale, almost blue around the edges.

But as he stepped onto the dock and looked at his crew, he paused. He took a moment to stand tall like he used to, and nodded to them all with fire in his eyes. But he couldn't keep it up. He fell into a coughing fit, and Damien quickly led him away, calling to Beau and Connor to be careful as they hurried to catch up.

Raff and Wesley looked at each other, then separated, heading off on their own tasks. Alex watched from the deck, Dirk by his side, worrying at his frayed length of rope. J.J. was up there somewhere too, keeping an eye on their home.

Brax led Jane, Andrew and Gunny through the darkened streets, muttering about a night market he knew of nearby. They were on the lookout for oil, mostly. Their food supplies only needed to be topped off. Brax also mentioned visiting a water seller the next day. "Hasn't been raining enough," he grumped. "Our own stores are running low." He tried to disguise it, but the cook's worry was obvious in his every motion.

   Jane tried not to think about the haggard appearance of the Captain as they hurried through the dark streets. She tried to focus on the things they were looking for, and keep an eye out for shadowy corners. Undertown could be dangerous, she was grateful for Brax, Andrew and Gunny.

Jackson winced as he carefully pulled sweater number three back on over his head. Three sweaters was all he owned, and he had thought it more than enough, but he still felt like a few more layers were needed. He was chilled to his bones, and the cold made him ache.

The man Damien had brought him to see, Doctor O'Shauna, had been very professional in his examination. And even though Damien was there the whole time and Jackson had barely had to say a word, he had hated every second of it. He had described his pain, rated the severity of it on an abacus, let the man smell his breath, breathed deeply until he was almost weeping with the agony in his chest.

The only question he didn't answer was how he had nearly drowned. Neither he nor Damien had a word to say about that, and the good city doctor was just going to have to live with it. Carson was in the other room. His arm had broken in a 'sailing accident.' Jackson wanted to know everything about Carson's chances, but he was a patient, too. The doctor had looked at him askance, and reminding him that he was the boy's Captain had not loosened his lips. Jackson, irritated, had let it lie. Damien would tell him everything later.

If he was honest with himself, Jackson was afraid. Pneumonia... it was like drowning in slow motion. He had no desire to suffocate ever again, and the fear reared its ugly head every time he struggled to take a breath.

His body trembled with weakness, and Jackson tried not to hate himself for it. It wasn't his fault, he was sick. He could hate it, but not himself.

He needed a drink.

A few moments later, Damien and Doctor O'Shauna turned from their quiet discussion to find the Captain missing, the examination table bare except for a note scrawled hastily on the back of the examination sheet. Back soon.

***

Jackson slid onto a stool at the bar. "The most fiery whiskey you've got," he rasped when the bartender looked at him. "Make it a double. And neat, please." The man eyed him distrustfully and a little fearfully. Jackson waved a hand. "I can pay. And it's not catching."

Once the bartender finally turned away, Jackson lowered his head to his crossed arms on the bar, grabbing a napkin for his nose. Everything was foggy. He hoped the whiskey cleared the fog rather than adding to it.

A dark, curvaceous woman stood at the bar, with her legs crossed, pushing her bosom over her arms and her rear out. Black wavy ropes of hair draped down her back, held out of her face with a navy blue bandana. The primary materials for her rather scanty outfit were worn brown leathers.
She signaled the bartender. A rat-like man approached her, his hair greased back, flanked by two other men.
“You owe us, Alvarez.”
“I’ll tell you what, Lucky,” She lazily watched the golden liquid be poured into her glass, “Because the information you gave me was worth nothing,” she held the glass for a moment and tipped it back. Smacking her lips, she continued, “That’s what I’ll pay you.”
The man named Lucky slammed her glass back onto the bar, “We’ll get our money’s worth, bitch.”
Alvarez leaned into him, her face nearly touching his, “Oh, you poor, sweet, thing.” Yanking his arm from underneath him, she slammed his head onto the bar a few times, stunning him and let Lucky slump to the floor. One of Lucky’s boys rushed up behind Alvarez and wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Grunting once, she smacked her head back into the man’s face, forcing him to drop her as another hoodlum came from the front. She ducked as he swung a bottle at her head, smashing the glass against his partner. She elbowed his stomach and pushed him to the floor. Lucky was beginning to scrape himself off the ground, reaching for his sword. His fingertips merely brushed it before the pirate’s own dagger poked his nose.
“Tell me, Lucky, is this really worth dying for?” she asked. Lucky snapped his mouth shut, slowly circled away and scrambled for the door, his two goons on his heels.
She returned to her spot at the bar, sheathed the dagger and finished her drink.
“I didn’t think so.” She chuckled.

Jackson watched the quick, violent exchange, sipping his drink. His body warmed, but he wasn't sure if it was the whiskey or the woman.

"I guess it just wasn't Lucky's day," he remarked, not turning to face her or really look at her. He wished he wasn't so ill; he tried to control the slight tremble in his fingers, but the amber liquid jittered in its glass no matter how hard he tried. He suppressed a sigh. Not the elegant captain he liked to appear as at all. He was sure he looked pathetic, if not down right frumpy.

The pirate gave the captain a side glance, smirking at his comment.
“My, and I thought the only men in this place were besotted fools who couldn’t hoist the mainsail.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:07, Fri 23 Aug 2019.

"Besotted? Maybe. Fool? Absolutely." He quirked his mouth into a half smile and gave her a sidelong glance. "Hoisting? My specialty."

She slid over to a stool beside the captain, copying his posture.
"Phillip, a refill for my friend here," she called to the bartender, giving a wink.

Jackson emptied his glass and set it on the bar for his refill, sighing appreciatively as the burn settled in his belly. The smokey flavor seemed to fill him up to his ears, and he knew he should take it easy on the alcohol, especially on an empty stomach, but he didn't want to. "Alvarez... the name rings a bell, though I can't yet say from where." He turned and tried to give her a sincere smile, wan though it must be. "I'm Jackson."

"Marina. Previously Captain Marina Alvarez," Marina's smile turned slightly melancholy, "Sadly, without my ship, the title rings a bit hollow." She tapped her glass and the bartender refilled it nearly to the brim. Marina turned her body to face Jackson and crossed her legs.
"Is there a last name to match such a distinguished gentleman?"

Marina. Marina Alvarez. That name was seriously ringing bells and raising flags, but he couldn't place it. Something about a song. Was there a song written about this woman? He saw no reason why not.

Smiling at her 'distinguished' comment, Jackson self-consciously tugged at the worn sleeve of his outermost sweater. "There is. But first, a toast." He raised his glass. "To absent friends. I don't know what I'd do if I lost my ship," he added, feeling the sadness of such a tragic loss. Once he'd drained his glass, he said, "Knight. Captain Jackson Knight."

Something nagged at Marina at the captain's name. Very familiar, on the tip of her tongue kind of name. Where had she heard it before? It probably didn't matter, she had been with other men not even knowing their names.

"And to new acquaintances, Captain Knight."

"Another round?" asked the bartender.

"I think so," Marina flashed her most charming smile, "Unless the dear captain doesn't have the stomach for it?" He looked a bit sickly, but she hoped he could handle a few more drinks.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:02, Mon 26 Aug 2019.

Jackson hesitated. He was buzzing pleasantly, but didn't want to go so far as to make himself even more ill. At the risk of appearing a lightweight, if the evening went about how he hoped, he wanted to be at least slightly physically able. So he smiled regretfully and said, "Another round? It'll have to be my last for today, unfortunately." He cleared his throat as he placed his glass back on the bar, eager to change the subject. "A true shame about your ship. Perhaps you'd like to come and see mine?" A slight twinge of guilt tugged at him. He had already been gone longer than he thought he would. Damien would be worried sick.

"A ship is always better than squandering in this hole in the wall," Marina dropped a few coins on the counter, soon swept up by the barman.
"What type of boat is she? I'm sure she's a beauty."

Sliding off the barstool while throwing back the last of the whiskey, Jackson stumbled a bit. He caught himself on the bar, and tried to play it off as drunkenness. "Yes. She's a modified stormchaser." He smirked as he straightened his sweaters. "So I hope you don't mind cramped quarters."

"Cramped? I call it cozy." Marina winked and entwined her arm with Jackson's, "My boat was more of a clipper with a few modifications here and there. She could catch lightning, but more often was a goods transport."

A smuggler then, perhaps. Again, Jackson was nagged that he knew this woman, if not personally then by reputation. He just couldn't remember. He raised his free hand and rubbed at his forehead for a moment; he was foggy and buzzing... and horny. It wasn't coming to him.

What did it matter? He glanced over at Marina as they left the bar together. It didn't. Not at all.

***

Brax glanced over his shoulder at Jane, Andrew and Gunny, all of whom were carrying crates full of bottles. Andrew and Gunny had sacks piled on top of their crates full of other foodstuffs. Jane had a large metal jug of salt.

They were almost back at the Cloudcutter, and Brax had picked up his pace. They hadn't used the same route to return as they had taken to leave, and everyone's senses were on high alert. Undertown was dangerous, but at night that barely covered it. Finally, they came in sight of the hidden smuggler's dock, and slipped inside as quietly as they could. Two figures stood together at the foot of the gangplank, and as they got closer they clarified into Alex and Dr. Damien. The doctor looked frazzled, almost desperate, and Alex's craggy face betrayed little except annoyance.

"What is it?" Brax asked, motioning his followers to go on up the plank.

"It's the Captain," Damien said. "He slipped away from me when I wasn't looking. Wrote that he'd be back soon. That was almost half an hour ago! I thought he'd be back here, but Alex hasn't seen him."

Alex shared a look with Brax. "It's impossible to look for him. He could be anywhere."

By now the crewmates had reached the top of the gangplank, but slowed once they were out of sight of the senior crewmembers below. Andrew and Gunny also shared a look, then looked at Jane. The Captain? Missing?

   Jane could only share their troubled look. The only reason she could think of that would take the Captain away would be something to do with the curse. She frowned and moved quickly down to the galley in order to stock the supplies, get them out of the way so that she would be ready. Ready for what? She didn't know. How dare he? she thought suddenly, anger flitting across her face. She slammed the container of salt down harder that she needed to. With an entire crew worried sick about him? She huffed under her breath and refocused her efforts on keeping her work space orderly.

   It didn't take her long, she knew the kitchen and stores like the back of her hand. And she was back up on deck after taking the stairs two at a time. She cast a cursory look about to see if anything had changed.

Damien and Brax had gone, but Alex had come back up on deck. He was leaning his crossed arms on the rail, staring down at the deserted dock. His jaw was clenched, his posture stiff. His eyepatch was toward Jane, but he twitched his head toward her when she came on deck, letting her know he knew she was there. The dark night around them was getting foggy and still.

   Jane crossed the deck to lean against the railing beside Alex. She didn't need to ask to know that the Captain had not yet returned. She breathed in long and deep, held it a moment, and let it out with a frown, "We can't go looking?" she asked quietly, unwilling to disturb the swirling fog, "Anywhere he might favor to go?"

Alex shrugged slightly with the shoulder closest to Jane. "Brax and Damien are checking back at the city doctors place. Other than that... no. Nothing to do but wait til he returns... or we get some news."

There was a slight noise out in the night, like a distant laugh. Or cough. Indistinct voices whispered through the fog, their origin impossible to determine.

   Raising her head slightly, Jane cocked an ear to listen, her gaze sweeping the fog for a glimpse of whoever was making those sounds. Her hand moved to grip the railing, and she leaned toward Alex, whispering, "Listen."

Jackson was walking along beside Marina, arms entwined. He was trying not to stumble. Trying not to cough. Trying not to make an ass of himself while they made small talk. He had unconsciously been leaning on her more and more, needing support to keep walking. Finally, as they stepped through one of the doors to the smuggler's dock, Jackson had to stop and bend over to cough, hard. The sound carried easily to the ears listening from his ship.

Quickly wiping at his watering eyes, Jackson straightened up despite the ache in his ribs and tried to smile disarmingly, but it came out more like a wince. "There she is," he said tightly, gesturing to the shape of his ship though the fog. "The Cloudcutter." He started coughing again. Damn it. He was going to scare her away.

"Ah, she is a magnificent ship," Marina rubbed Jackson on the back a little as he tried not to cough harder, "I want a closer look."
Poor man, Marina thought. The least she could do is make sure he gets on board safely. Marina still couldn't quite remember why that ship's name was so familiar.

She hoped it wasn't catching. Although, she had heard once that strenuous activity could help with such ailments. So really, she was doing him a favor.

Of sorts.

   Jane came running down the gangplank from the Cloudcutter, Alex right beside her, "Captain!" she called in a subdued shout, anger and relief in her voice. They came to a stop before the pair and Jane looked at Marina in bewilderment, "What's going on?" she demanded cautiously, her gaze turning in concern to Jackson, her hands clenching and unclenching in uncertainty.

Jackson finished coughing and cleared his throat. "I'm, ah... giving Marina here a tour of the Cloudcutter." He gave Alex a look while he raised an arm to give Marina a squeeze around the shoulders.

Alex narrowed his single eye. He tapped Jane on the arm with the back of his knuckles, and turning slightly, gestured with his head that they should go back to the ship.

   Jane opened her mouth to speak, but paused and decided against it after looking at Alex. She turned to follow him back up the gangplank, unable to hide the concerned expression on her face. She stood again at the railing, leaning back against it to watch the Captain and the woman with him. She gave out a quiet sigh, wondering what the Captain was playing at.

   She took the opportunity to observe Marina. She definitely looked like a woman in charge, and at least she wasn't a seedy looking. She didn't seem to be taking advantage of the Captain, so Jane folded her arms to watch.

"I'm surprised you have a lady crew member on board," Marina commented, "Pleased, yet still surprised." She wrapped her arm around Jackson's waist and followed his lead up the plank.

"I'm full of surprises," Jackson grunted as they stepped on board. He saw the worry on Jane's face, but the guilt wasn't enough to make him stop and explain. He led Marina to his cabin and shut the door soundly behind them. Then he grinned at her. "Were you wanting an actual tour, or will this do?"

Beside Jane, Alex sighed. "We can be relieved that the Captain was just chasing some girl. But Raff will definitely have words for him come morning."

   Jane just shook her head and pushed away from the railing, "I suppose." she frowned and sighed as well, "I'm going to try and sleep during what's left of the night." She gave Alex's arm a pat in farewell and made her way below to her little room. Relieved? Yes. Confused? Yes. Not really desirous to follow the path some of her thoughts threatened to go? Yes. After washing her face, Jane curled up in her bed and banished the thoughts of her day so that she could get some rest.

“This will do very nicely.”

~

Marina slid the hooks through her earlobes, her gold tinking and sparkling in the early morning sun. The disks on the end of the chains spun as she shifted her hair over her shoulder. Brown skin bare, she bent to pick up her white shift, which had been discarded uncaringly to the floor.
Knowing where Jackson’s eyes were, she wiggled a little, smirking devilishly. Straightening, she pulled it over her head. The rest of her jewelry sat on a small table. Sometimes she forgot how much she wore until she saw it all in a pile.

Jackson sighed, slowly stretching out on his narrow bed as he watched Marina dress. His head and muscles ached, though he felt a vigor in his thoughts that hadn't been there yesterday. He felt more hopeful. If he could still romp like he did last night, his situation wasn't as bad as he had feared. True, Marina did most of the work, but... it was still fun.

"I still feel like I know you from somewhere," he said softly. He started slowly sitting up. His cough hadn't bothered him since he woke up, and he kept his breathing shallow to try and keep it that way.

"Strange," Marina clipped on her golden talisman around her neck, "I have the exact feeling about you. Have you ever been to the Bloodoak tavern? I'm a little," she clicked her tongue, "notorious there."

Jackson laughed, carefully. "Don't know a sky pirate who hasn't been to the Bloodoak. Though I frequented it more in my... younger days." He had been about to say 'Sanctaphrax days', but stopped himself. "Perhaps that explains it."

Now upright, he slowly rested his weight onto his legs as he slid off the bed. They held him, so he reached for his trousers, flung over the back of the chair behind his desk.

"Pirate has harsh connotations, sweet thing," Marina leaned against the small table, "Now a name like Jackson Knight has got to have a few stories behind it."

Jackson grinned at her, delight twinkling in his green eyes. "Of course it does! But you'll have to try harder than that to get them out of me." He quickly leaned close and kissed her on the cheek.

"Playing coy?" Marina slowly fiddled with Jackson's fiery hair, twirling it around her adorned fingers, "Then let's make a deal. You tell me a little something, and I think about telling you a little something in return."

Jackson grinned again, this time a cocky half smile. "I know just the thing," he proclaimed. "It'll be tough to beat, my dear. Do you remember the Great Storm that happened a few years ago?" He had no doubt that she would. Great Storms were very rare and always garnered huge attention. He decided not to mention that he had inadvertently caused it.

Marina's eyebrows rose, "I remember my crew drinking themselves into a stupor to avoid pesky academics." Marina rested her arms around his waist, waiting.

"There were rumors of one ship that returned to Undertown with a cargo of freshly harvested lighting, of all varieties. One ship that rode the Storm and survived. And guess what?" He bent his head and kissed her neck, then whispered in her ear. "You're standing in it."

Marina's mouth opened as it clicked. The Cloudcutter. Knight.

And she had slept with him too.

"Damn," she chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

He chuckled too, still nuzzling her neck. "I told you it would be hard to beat. Your turn, Marina." He couldn't see her face, didn't realize that her exclamation was anything other than amazement at his feat.

"Truly," Marina trailed her fingers up and down Jackson's back, eliciting a small moan. Deep in thought, she decided to disguise her shock and luck.
"Have you heard of the Queen of the Eastern Skies?"

Marina hadn't done anything grand lately. She was too busy drinking; one must have priorities. Her self-proclaimed pseudonym carried weight, though. Smuggling and raiding, the rumors painted her like a sex goddess, which she didn't mind. A goddess much younger than herself, also paler, but Marina enjoyed having this particular card up her sleeve. Used it how she wished and when she wished.

Jackson leaned back and looked her in the face incredulously. "No," he said. "You can't be..." He squinted at her.

Marina peered at him through her eyelashes.
"The Siren's Call was the name of my clipper," she sighed nostalgically, "The wonder of a lady, and one of the fastest on the east side of the Edgewater."

Jackson stared at her blankly for a moment, then a true delight began to grow in his expression. He couldn't hold back a loud peal of sincere laughter, even if it ended with a hacking cough. When he was done, a bit of playful mischief glimmered in his eyes as he spoke. "My crew won't believe this. But I'm sure I don't mind rumors spreading that I've had the Queen in my bed." He flashed her a devilish grin.

Marina shared his laughter and pushed him back a little, her own playfulness sparkling.
"Please," She scoffed mockingly, exaggerating her eye roll, "As if you're the first man to float my frigate."

"Of that I have no doubt!" he quipped jauntily as he pulled on a sweater. "I don't mind being the latest, so long as I was the greatest." As his head popped through the collar, there was a knock at the door. Jackson winked at Marina and called, "Come!"

Damien opened the door a crack and leaned inside. "It's time for your antibiotics, Captain."

   Jane served up ladles of porridge to the crew down in the galley, listening to the laughing whispers. Everyone had their own idea of how the Captain had spent his night, and were discussing the possibilities of each scenario.  It seemed that they had barely finished their bowls before they were called to the deck in order to finish making sure the ship was restocked and at the ready.

   Clearing the tables, Jane got to work and looked forward to leaving the shipping yard. She wanted to be back out in the air, moving ahead.

Marina eyed the doctor up and down, not bothering to cover the rest of herself. Any form of etiquette was purposefully forgotten when she was young.

Damien didn't react to Marina's state of undress. He was a professional, after all. Jackson motioned for him to enter. Damien stepped inside, a syringe and small bottle of clear liquid in one hand. Jackson sat on the desk and started rolling up his sleeve.

"What sort of medicine you got there, doc?" Marina pushed herself off the table and strolled up next to Jackson to watch.

Damien glanced over at her as he opened the bottle, his blue eyes watery. He looked back at the Captain, who nodded. The doctor answered as he filled the syringe."As I said, antibiotics. To treat the Captain's pneumonia."

Jackson finished rolling up his sleeve and, pulling a small belt from a desk drawer, tightened it around his bicep with a wince. Taking firm hold of Jackson's arm, the doctor pressed his thumb into the crease of the Captains elbow, looking for the vein.

"Oh," Marina folded her arms, "Then you're lucky I came along."

Jackson giggled, then caught himself, sitting up straight and clearing his throat. Damien gazed at Marina over the top of his glasses, but said nothing. He administered the shot, then excused himself.

Sitting with his thumb pressed over the bandage, Jackson kicked his legs against the desk and grinned at Marina. "I think I am lucky," he said, his thoughts on the music box locked in a drawer not a foot away. He hadn't checked on the spirit in some time. He wondered if she had recovered yet from saving him.

"Clearly," Marina grinned and searched the room for her pants. She kept an eye on the desk, though. Every man and woman had a tell. She just had to figure out Jackson's. Finding them balled up on the floor, at the end of the bed, she pulled out the legs of her pants and pulled them on.
"What does a woman have to do to get some food around here?" She winked, tucking her shift and adjusting her belt.

Jackson was mildly surprised, but concealed it. She was sticking around? Huh. "Brax and Jane can fix you up in the galley. No doubt the crew is about finished with their breakfast by now."

"Ah, so the kitten you've adopted," Marina tightened the laces on her leather stays, "Her name is Jane?"

Jackson's face fell a bit. He lifted his thumb and watched for bleeding. "Go easy on that kitten," he murmured. "She used to be one of a pair. Her brother's body lies below, barely cold, barely gray." Satisfied when no red showed on the bandage, he rolled down his sleeve and reached for the second sweater.

Marina hesitated.
"I see," she picked up her second belt, the last item, and tightened it to her form. Marina checked her daggers and the small satchel sewed to the leather. Determining everything was in its place, she leaned against the desk, watching Jackson as he pulled the sweater over his head.
"To the galley then?"

"Aye," he said, giving her a quick smile as he tugged the sweater straight. "Ladies first." He opened the door with a bowing flourish, letting in the bright morning sunlight.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:48, Tue 28 Apr 2020.

Hands pink from the hot soapy water, Jane was finishing up the last of the breakfast dishes. Brax was already going on about what to serve for lunch, and his gruff voice in the background was comforting. There was a break in his tirade however, and he said, "Captain! Thought you'd be down. Set aside something for you and the lady."

Jane turned to look over her shoulder, curious and a bit... uncomfortable? Brax was laying out the bowls of meal on the board, so Jane craned a bit to get a look at the two.

Marina took a deep breath, eyes lingering around the simple galley, the sweet smell of old wood and sweat filled her lungs. As she did, her chest filled with ache. With longing.

Rubbing his hands together, Jackson sat down on one of the benches lining the one long table in the galley which took up most of the floor space, instead of dragging out the chair he would sit in at the head of the table when he dined with the crew. "Thank you Brax, Jane," he said happily, then coughed, but even his cough sounded hearty. He looked up at Marina and noted the odd expression on her face. "Please have a seat, my dear. A delicious breakfast will fix you up most wonderfully."

"I was reminded of my ship, darling," Marina slid down the bench to be beside him, "That's all. You never forget the smells or the feeling."
She crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward enough to catch a glimpse of Jane, and flashed a reassuring smile at Jackson.

Jane made eye contact with Marina for a second, and turned back to the dishes. Strangely, she got the feeling that she would like that woman. Pretentious? Sure. But something seemed nice about her. Jane dried her hands on her apron and tried to hide a smile at all of the 'darlings' and 'my dears'. At least the Captain was feeling better.

"No, indeed." Jackson mused, eyeing Marina over a spoonful of gruel. Was that why she had stayed? A bit more time spent on a boat? That made Jackson feel a little better about it; he was pretty sure she wasn't staying based on his sickly charms. But perhaps The Queen of the Eastern Skies had heard a few interesting rumors, here and there. Maybe about the silly little trinkets the Patrol seemed so interested in finding. Yes... maybe he would ask Marina to stay on for a little bit if she tried to tear herself away from the Cloudcutter later. But if she wouldn't stay, it didn't hurt to have one more friend in Undertown.

Marina smiled fondly over her porridge. Life on a boat was always simple: the food, the skies. And most of all, the people.
"So if Brax is your cook, who is your quartermaster?" Marina took a bite, then raised her voice a little, "If he is as handsome, I may have to smuggle myself on board when you leave."

Pressing his lips together into a tight, suppressed smile, Jackson succeeded in not laughing out loud as he glanced at Brax. He was greatly amused as he watch the older man's ears turn slowly pink as he worked at the counter with his back turned, pretending not to have heard.

"Ha! My quartermaster is as much man as Brax and myself combined! I'll introduce you." Turning his gaze back to his breakfast, Jackson considered his next question carefully. Jane had made huge waves when she had come on board, and she was a shy, pretty as a flower petal slip of a girl. He knew the iron in her, but to all appearances it looked like a stiff breeze would knock her over. She looked younger than she was, and all of his crew were fiercely protective of her. She may have lost her brother by blood, but she had a whole ship full of brothers now. Her place was here. He knew for a fact some of them hoped for a bit more than brotherly love from Jane, but he knew it would be some time before she could open her heart like that.

Now, Marina... she was an entirely different creature. She didn't seem to have a place. Charming and blithe, self-assured and confident, she looked not where she stepped, knowing without a doubt that her foot would fall on something solid eventually. That was not just the confidence of the arrogant or disillusioned; it was confidence born of experience and mistakes made and learned from. He could sense the depth she struggled to hide behind innuendo and and a low-cut blouse. The loss of a ship was one thing; he wondered what else had been taken from her.

He knew his crew would accept his decision, as they had when he had taken on Mordecai and Jane. And just as then, he knew a new crew member would be welcomed and a place made for them. He just wasn't sure if this place was the place Marina needed.

Hang it. He would never know unless he asked the question.

"Why become a stow-away, my dear," he began lightly. "When you could just join up?" He lifted his gaze to meet her dark eyes evenly, so that she would know he was serious. But then he quirked a little grin, so that she would know he wouldn't be hurt if she decided to play it off like a joke and gracefully decline.

Jane stole a side glance at Brax when the Captain asked Marina to stay, and saw the mans eyebrows rise the barest fraction. She hid a smile herself and started returning bowls and spoons to their respective cabinets and drawers. Brax kept a tidy galley.

She waited for the woman's response, wondering how she would feel if she said yes, or no. It would be interesting to have another woman on board, even though they seemed as different as night and day. If she said no... things would continue on she supposed. The search would continue.

Marina was at a little loss for words. Just like that? And Jackson was serious too. All she could think of was the intense process of recruitment for her vessel: interviews and showing of skills or ability to learn such skills. That took anywhere from hours to days.

Marina was picky like that.

And here this captain was, asking her if she wanted to stay, knowing her only by reputation and a single night.
"Well," she began slowly, the wheels turning, "I've done every job you can think of on a ship, but I imagine you have a full crew." Marina fingered her talisman as she thought, returning her eyes back to Jackson's. "Unless you don't have a coxswain?"
Marina didn't want to seem too eager, but even the slightest thought of being out in the sky... And being that much closer to her goals, it was almost too much for her to disguise. Almost.

Played the game well, this one... but she couldn't think that this was going to be that easy. Jackson grinned widely and leaned back. "That position remains unfilled... but whether you can earn it or not remains to be seen."

Marina pursed her lips and nodded slowly, failing at concealing a smile of her own, "My performance last night wasn't enough to convince you, huh?"

Jackson's grin brightened with genuine fondness. "It earned you an invitation, didn't it?" Pleased, he leaned forward and continued his breakfast.

"That's fair, I suppose," Marina chuckled, resuming her meal also. As she ate, Marina studied Jane. She worked hard, probably hard enough so that she doesn't have energy or time to pause. To think. Even to feel.
Poor kitten, she thought. Marina had never lost a blood relative she cared for, but blood doesn't always equal family. Though, Marina imagined losing someone so close stung more.

Brax set Jane to prepping the vegetables that would go into the hearty stew that he planned on serving the crew for lunch. She hauled the sack of potatoes to a table in the galley to peel them. As she sat with her knife and bowl, she looked over at Jackson and Marina, figuring that if she was going to stay, there was no point in being stealthy with their study of each other. So, she offered a smile before grabbing a potato and beginning to skin them. Who knew how long they might tease each other this way? A thought popped into her head, and before she could think on the appropriateness of it, she said quietly, "Well.. you filled at least one of her positions last night Captain. Seems only fair to return the favor." her cheeks burned, but she kept her eyes on her work with a small smile.

Jackson paused with his spoon still in his mouth, looking askance at Jane. His shock was comical, but he got over it quickly, swallowing his mouthful to laugh.

"Oh, kitten has a tongue!" Marina laughed and ran her finger along the bottom of her bowl, scooping out the little remains, "You turn the sweetest shade of pink." She turned to Jackson and licked her finger clean, "I see now why you keep her in the galley."

   Jane felt her face getting even warmer and laughed it off, keeping her eyes on the work before her. It'd probably be best if she kept her thoughts to herself for the rest of this conversation. She fell easily into her rhythm of peeling and setting the finished potatoes in their own large bowl.

Captain Jackson's laugh degenerated into a hacking cough, his whole body shuddering with it. He cleared his throat afterward with a grimace, turning back to his breakfast. He was determined to finish it, even now that his throat hurt and his appetite had taken a minor beating. "Our relationship will no doubt engender many such observations," he said hoarsely, raising a bite to his lips. The slight tremble in his hands could be seen in the end of the spoon. "But we'll just have to rise above them." He grinned winningly.

"No doubt," Marina agreed. Jane was a quick one. Shy, but quick. Getting along seemed easier than Marina had thought before. A small fantasy of taking the girl under her wing flashed through her mind, but she looked to take care of herself just fine.
"Do you need some water, darling?"

Jackson nodded gratefully, getting down to the last few bites of breakfast. "Today I need to visit a doctor in town. One of my crew members was injured recently... I'm going to go see about his recovery, and how long we'll be needing to remain here. You acquaint yourself with the ship, Marina. I should be back before midday."

"Quite the day you have ahead of you," Marina scooted off the bench and picked up her bowl, "Who do you suggest I speak to first to show me the ropes?" Winking at Jackson, she sauntered deeper into the galley, smiling at Jane as she passed. Brax gave her a nod as she dipped her bowl into the remaining soapy water.

Jackson pretended to think about it as he casually set his bowl down beside Marina's elbow for her to wash, then tried to slink away without appearing to slink away.

"Jane," he said brightly as he reached the stairs, "I see you're busy with those potatoes, but why don't you and Marina go find Raff and give our prospective hire the grand tour." He stopped two steps up and leaned down for a parting remark. "The perspectives of our newest crew member and my oldest friend and quartermaster will help you make an informed decision, my dear Marina. Adieu." And he was gone, the light in the galley seeming to fade a little as his mischievous smile lifted from sight.

Jane looked over to Brax for a quick nod of approval before putting down her knife and brushing her hands over her apron, "We should find Raff up on the quarterdeck." she said, moving away from the benches and towards the steps out of the galley, "If not, someone should be able to point us in the right direction." she smiled at Marina, and shrugged, "I'm still a bit new to how things work, but I'll answer what questions I can."

Marina finished rinsing both hers and the captain’s bowls before following Jane above deck. “Never underestimate your own input and opinion, my dear,” She smiled at the young woman, a secret grin showing no teeth, “Lest others do the same.”

The wind kicked her hair back and ruffled her billowing sleeves. Rank smell wafted above in the air from Undertown. Marina smiled at her surroundings, examining the boat with a critical eye. She was finely built, and seeing the ship the night before did her no justice in the daylight. The Cloudcutter’s crew pranced to and fro, calling to each other as they maintained the ship and did their morning duties. The bannisters were worn smooth from use, and the familiar squawk and cry of the gulls renewed Marina’s earlier heartache. The Siren’s Call had been a light and fast ship, similar to the vessel’s first and last captain.
The pirate noticed that the majority of Jackson’s crew were young men, bright-eyed and eager. Excited to do their work, with the undertone of the recent loss of life and an injured comrade. Such is the nature of the lightning business, Marina mused, a flashy living until the thunder arrives. Marina took a deep breath, allowing the atmosphere to soak in.

As Jane led Marina up out of the galley, there was a hiccup in most of the work as the crew paused to look. A few scrambled over the flight rock, mending breaks in its net. They were sweating with the heat of the lamps required to keep the stone low in the dock, and stole glances away from their work. Many were combing the sails for damage, marking it with red chalk. Alex and his gunners were helping with this, sitting against the rail with billows of canvas in their laps and fingers dusted red. The master gunner had paused in his work, looking up to regard Marina with the same stony expression he had worn the night before.

There were two piles of pulleys growing beside the door to the Captain's quarters. One was for gear that could be mended, the other for ones broken beyond repair. Wesley had his clipboard in hand and Beau was helping him count. From the scowl on the short man's face, it appeared he was having to replace more than he cared to.

The rest of the crew was either cleaning or salvaging and mending ropes. There was one crewmember who didn't appear to be doing anything, turning a short length of frayed rope over and over in his hands. He sat next to the others with ropes, a confused look on his face.

Raff's heavy footsteps started clunking down from the pilot's nest; the tall Quartermaster appeared on the stairs right of the Captain's door, cradling two bent levers in his massive arms. He got to the bottom of the stairs, noticed Marina and Jane, and stopped in his tracks. His dark blue eyes widened a bit in surprise, black eyebrows climbing.

When they reached Raff, Jane stopped and gestured to Marina, "Captain wanted us to show Marina around. Give her an idea of the ship, see if she wants to join on." she shrugged and slipped her hands into the pockets of her apron. A wave of grief washed over her suddenly, closing a tight fist around her throat. She worked hard to swallow past it, and blinked forcefully, hoping no one noticed. Normally, the grief only overwhelmed her when she was alone. A flash of panic at the loss of emotional control in front of the crew jolted through her, and she rocked back on her heels to try and seem relaxed, "If it's a good time."

Marina studied the quartermaster. His stony face was complimented by his body, and he commanded respect with just his silhouette. While he wasn't particularly handsome, his bearing was awfully attractive. Marina found herself agreeing with Jackson's earlier statement: he was, indeed, twice the man of anyone she had met.

"Join on?" Raff asked in his bass rumble. He regarded Marina again, frowning, then gave a little shrug like he was shaking something off. "Hm. Just a moment." He stepped to the side and added the bent levers to the pile Wes was accounting, then turned and wordlessly gestured for them to follow him.

He led them first to Jane's room. "Wes won't be happy about sacrificing more storage," Raff said as he opened the door. "But we've put up Jane in here. We sometimes used it as a brig. We'd move a few more barrels and you'd set up a cot or hang a hammock here..." he trailed off, regarding her again, clearly puzzling out how he should address her. "... miss."

He glanced at the doorway that was at the end of the narrow hall that ran beside the galley, the door to the even smaller room that was used as an armory. The room where Mordecai's body lay. He glanced back at Jane, then passed it by and went on with the 'tour' to the other side of the galley where the rest of the crew bunked.