Post by Joliette Thorne on Mar 6, 2011 9:05:03 GMT -5
Lucien was, for once, where he was supposed to be. According to the wishes of his highly unnerved parents, who might have relinquished to the demands of sleep at last, leaving the youth under the grim-faced and stout -- and ever-watchful, and not-to-be-argued-with -- observance of Gideon the Mute. The huge sailor was perched on a ridiculously small stool at the boy's side, massive arms folded, beard tucked into its usual place in his broad leather belt. Lucien himself was a pale smudge among dark ship-issue blankets and a red-floral comforter his mother had insisted on tucking him in with, his eyes open and contemplative of an erroneous seafaring spider spinning a web in the beams above his hammock. "C'mon, Gid..." he said, quietly. "Just a turn around the deck. I'm gonna perish of the boredom..." The mute blinked slowly and stoically in refusal, and of course said nothing.
Mahri 's boots struck the steps leading down with muted thunks, given she was trying to be stealthy about her return to the ship. It isn't much of a surprise to find Gideon keeping watch over Lucien. As for herself, Mahri is all cleaned up, the decks were scrubbed and pails of fish entrails and leftovers had properly been disposed of--more so that the lycan and former vampire couldn't fling them at each other in the near future. This doesn't mean she's gotten much sleep and it shows in the dark hollows under her eyes and the slightly glazed sheen. "You can't die of boredom," she teases as she comes alongside the bunk Luc is sequestered on and, giving Gideon a brief nod, takes over station in the stool, not that the huge man goes far. He does take his job seriously after all. Leaning forward, elbows braced on obviously new leathers and fingers laced together to rest between her knees, the Eternity's first mate looks intently in Luc's face, gauging just how recovered he might be.
Lucien gave Mahri a languid look that might express his doubt at her claim of boredom being non-fatal, then turned his gaze toward the elegant arachnid weaving its thready net above. Maybe she still had a very faint hint of fishguts about her. Maybe he was just so wracked with ennui caused by the enforced lack of activity that it had become unbearable. But his nose scrunched up, while he spoke: "Thanks, hey. For helping me." He was not unaware - really, how could he be? - of how much trouble had been caused by his errant and fever-induced trip AWOL to Cenril. He sighed, pushed the comforter down with his good arm. His wounded one, in no need of bandages now, lay exposed on the blanket below, the peculiarly-regular shape of the scar standing out in vivid red against skin that'd regained a little of its former healthy hue. His observation of the spider probably had much to do with him having trouble meeting Mahri's eyes. "Is my Dad ..." he swallowed. "Is he like, really mad at me?"
Mahri had to smile at the expected response--that teenage visual equivalent of 'yeah, right' she got. Again with the thanks, as if she'd done something out of the ordinary. It was, to say the least, uncomfortable. The smile turns to a slight frown as she leans back, crosses her arms and drapes one leg over the other, "Yeah, I'm a real 'gift'," she loosely quoted, following the kid's gaze to stare at the web and arachnid therein, that is until the odd scar is revealed. Then her eyes are drawn there even while answering that hesitant question, "No, I think he was more mad at himself than you, not that he'll ever admit it." Jerking her gaze away from that scar, Mahri settles her attention on Lucien. What's one more secret between them, right? And this would be a small one compared, "If you can walk from here to the stairs, you can come up with me and get some fresh air. One stumble and it's back to the bunk with you. Agreed?" Sensing Gideon's protesting step towards her, Mahri raises a hand sharply, arching a brow towards Lucien while she waits for his answer. Perhaps the sound of grinding teeth could be heard from behind.
Lucien snorted softly at her embarrassment over the paraphrased compliment, but humor fell away from him as Mahri speculated on the source of Leo's mood. He muttered, perhaps not quite loud enough to make out, "But that doesn't make any sense.." As far as he knew, he'd snuck out while they were getting some rest and a meal. The youth was very glad for the distraction of her next statement, and not only for the awkward topic preceding it. Gideon got a sly and smarmy half-grin, and Luc sat up quickly, kicking layers of wool and quilted cotton off himself. He'd refused to wear the red and white striped pyjama shirt Jolie gave him, preferring his usual t-shirtlike garment, but she'd made him wear the pants, and he frowned at them. But hey, a walk on deck wasn't to be delayed by something as trivial as manly pride. He swung his legs over the edge of the hammock, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Like the spider, above, analogously enough, which had quit its task and picked that very moment to drop on a long, slender thread to the back of Luc's neck, where it'd nestle in the hair at his nape, unnoticed. Luc blinked hard, determined to pass muster on that test-walk -- he had no doubt the edgy Gideon would toss him back in the hammock at the slightest misstep. Bare feet settled on the boards, and he rose carefully, pausing to get his bearings. Then he padded, one slow foot in front of the other, toward the stairs. A glance back to Mahri, as if to say, "All good?" Gideon casually - and not without a meaningful stare cast upon the two - unhooked a harpoon from a rack on the wall and inspected its sharp tip with the much-scarred ball of his thumb.
Mahri was actually quite impressed and inordinately proud of the kid's stubbornness. Of course, he was far from being a kid anymore and she had to keep reminding herself of that fact. Mocking a resigned sigh, she pushes herself out of the chair and ambles along behind Lucien. She doesn't miss the message Gideon was sending and she shrugs, "Five minutes won't kill him. Besides, fresh air will be good for him. I'm the bloody healer ain't I?" No, she isn't but she also won't be threatened nor does she appreciate being made to feel she's doing something wrong. Even if it is against Captain and Mrs. Captain's orders. She lived dangerously most of the time, why stop now? Turning back to Luc, she smirks, "Stairs next, boy-o. I'll be right behind you." And she'll be watching very, very carefully.
Lucien managed them all right, if not three at a time like usual. One by one, he eased up each step, the palm of his good arm planting the stairwell timber to keep himself steady. Once above, he took a long, deep breath as if emerging from a dive in deep waters. The wind felt good on his face, ruffling a snowy shock of overgrown, bed-mussed hair. He waited for Mahri, whom he heard only a pace behind, and said, quietly, "I had the strangest dream, Aunty Mah."
Mahri comes along side Lucien, unspoken support if he needed it, and for a moment her gaze is drawn to the water as though expecting yellow eyes to be peering up at her from the surface. Shaking herself out of the expectation, she glances towards Lucien, "Did you? What about?" Her tone might have been casual, but there's something rather intense in those oddly silver eyes. If she was bothered by the familial address, she didn't show it. Quite the opposite, it gave her a decidedly warm feeling... more than love or affection could have and something she hadn't felt in years. With her parents.
Lucien's voice gained a slightly distant quality as he started an unhasty amble toward the rails. "I was somewhere far away. Like, far. In the stars, maybe. And I was talking to someone..." the details were growing foggier, even as he tried to express them. After a moment's silence, in which he grasped the rail, left-handed, he added, "... yeah. Never mind. It was just weird." The spider, disturbed by the wind, crept under the collar of his shirt, perceived if at all as merely the shifting of Luc's hair. Lucien, unwitting carrier, rubbed at his forehead as if something there was irritating him, and shifted a look to Mahri. "Then a forest. I remember that better. There was a deer... we were running, so fast..." He fell silent again, focusing on the act of walking for a few paces. "Was nothing, I guess. Just a dream."
Mahri isn't so sure it was a dream and it might explain to her why it seemed he hadn't exactly been there when she'd healed him. Pressing her lips together, Mahri follows and nods, better to let him think it was a dream rather than the fact she thought he had actually died for a time there. "Dreams can be strange, Luc." She caught the movement, not the spider but the rubbing of forehead, from the corner of her eye and she snaps a narrow-eyed look Luc's way. "Are you ok? Maybe we should get you back to bed.." If he got sick again, it would be her fault and the Gods only knew .. well, she knew and didn't want to dwell on the consequence if he fell ill again.
Lucien nodded hastily. "Nah, I'm fine. Really." He was feeling sort of off-color and rather strange, actually, but wasn't going to admit it. He'd only just got here, after all, and wasn't keen to take to his hammock again so quickly. "Just been lying down too long is all." They were headed, mainly due to his present left-handed condition, toward the prow some distance away yet, where a knotted scarf he recognized as his mother's flapped and billowed, tied to the ship's nethermost point. "Just to the figurehead and back, okay?" He glanced across at Mahri again from under that overgrown hair, a gesture very like his father's own. Then added, in a stronger tone, "I'm not a little kid, you know." At least a head taller than his "Aunty Mah", and his beard growing in again, white spikes sparse on his chin. Albeit he was dressed in those ridiculous stripy pants.
You 's "body guard", in a quite literal sense since Jolie had instructed Gideon in no uncertain terms to watch over the youth, followed behind, the harpoon slung over one broad shoulder and the sun glinting off his shaven pate.
Mahri isn't entirely convinced he was fine but with Gideon on hand should anything go wrong and herself there, Mahri can't really find a reason to force him back -- and she probably could if she wanted. Eying the distance to the figurehead and back, the lycan nods reluctantly. Just like an aunty, right? Spoil the little shyte and send him back to his parents. Now..did she divulge the conversation she'd had with his mother the eve before..or find something else to talk about. Probably something else. "Did you know there is..or was a whole city of merfolk not far from here?" If she'd had pockets, Mahri would have stuck her hands in them. Since she didn't they get clasped at the small of her back while they walk. Going on, as though telling a made up story, she talks, "They lived there for centuries, peacefully, until one day a plague hit their people. Young and old were dying daily, in the hundreds and they had no way to treat the sickness. Their..healers had never seen anything like it." Another glance to the water, over the railing and thoughts of the gems tucked away on Illoria, anchored not far. "So, they got desperate and one of their leaders went to the surface for help. He brought back a woman of amazing abilities," Yes, stretching it there a bit, but if no one was going to believe it anyway, why not? " and showed her where the sickness started. She saw leagues and leagues of barrels made of metal scattering the sea floor and something leaking from them." Talking, she told Lucien how this woman had healed so many, drawing on a different energy that she'd ever encountered and how the merfolk moved, deserting their city and leaving their savior in safety near an island. Running out of words, Mahri eventually goes quiet and by then, they had probably gained the prow to look over the figure head.
Lucien would listen quite intently as they strolled the deck at an easy pace, stopping now and then while he absorbed the parts that really fascinated him. Dark eyes widened often at details which corroborated various strange sightings and artefacts he'd come across while diving in the area, and then turned out to gaze upon the reefs and the vague shadow of the gulfs beyond. While Mahri spoke of the toxins that had forced the mer-people to flee, he hardly breathed at all but would let her finish the tale before venturing to speak, "Mahri." He was trying to untie the knot in that scarf with one hand. "How long ago did all this happen, did you say?" There was an urgent tone in his voice, a quiet demand for the knowledge. The wind ruffled his hair again, pushing it back from his brow, where she might notice the skin had grown blotchy, lumpish, as if the lad had incurred an oddly regular pattern of severe mosquito bites. Too, these lumps had appeared on either temple. Luc scratched at them idly, while he waited for her reply.
Mahri slants a look his way before edging around and tugging the scarf free of the loosened knot and handing it to Lucien. Upon looking at him, up close now, her eyes widen with alarm quickly covered, "Luc, we have to get you back below. Now." Her tone says she isn't going to listen to arguments and she hasn't yet answered his question. Gideon, not far away, hears the urgency in her voice and while he's mute, he sure as hell isn't deaf. The huge man, a flicker of genuine worry on his weathered face, comes closer just in case the young man, not boy, puts up a fuss. As for how long ago? "It doesn't matter when. They're gone," she assumes it's because of the merfolk he asked anyway.
Lucien's scowl puckered those weird marks, making them stand out even further from his skin. He wrapped the scarf around his wrist with a fluid looping motion, and eyed the fussing pair darkly. Now, he loved his parents more than anything in this world, but Lucien had had enough fussing to last him into old age, and he deeply resented the idea of crawling back under that gods-awful floral coverlet. "I'm -okay- Mahri," he insisted, though his eyes were set on the harpoon-wielding pirate who was steadily advancing on him now. "I feel just fine. See?" He raised his injured arm, which tingled to the point of being painful while he flexed his fingers. "I don't wanna spend all day in..." He'd dodge Gideon's meaty, grasping fist and continue, "... in that damn hammock." The peculiar rash, resembling some sort of severe allergy by now, was growing worse by the moment.
Mahri isn't having any of it, "Lucien-" she barks with authority, not that she expects it to do any good, "Would you bloody well listen to me! There is something wrong and I need to get a look at you." While he's dodging Gideon, Mahri's grinding her teeth. "Fine, you don't have to go back below but I want the truth," her eyes take in the growing rash, "How do you feel? Itchy, dizzy..ill in anyway? And the mer-city was deserted a day or so before I found you and your father in Cenril." There, she answered that question in hopes that he'll calm down. Maybe..bribery will work? "If you just do as I ask, I'll answer all your questions," Gideon, mid stalking mode, looks at the woman as though she's lost her bloody mind, and maybe she has. In the mean time, Mahri may as well have admitted she was the "amazing woman" in her story.
Lucien stopped dodging, and stared at Mahri. Were all women this difficult? She'd made him an offer he couldn't refuse, though, his desire for knowledge more powerful even than his wish for fresh air and freedom from the hold's confines. "Yeah, yeah, okay then..." he grumbled, shrugging Gideon off, who ignored him and Mahri both, clamping one huge hand down on the boy's shoulder like a prison guard capturing an escapee. More grumbling. But Luc allowed himself to be frog-marched back toward the hatch, while he shot questions at the lycan. "So, you saw it? The city? That was you, wasn't it, the healer who helped them? How many were there? How far out was this place? Could you find it again?" Completely disregarding Mahri's own questions.
Mahri is as clever as any other woman, and maybe more so. Following along, she waits til the three of them are below and a lamp is brought over, orders to Gideon as though she'd all the right to do so (and in her mind, she did) so she could get a better look at the spreading rash. While she inspects, her fingers tracing lightly over the borders of it, she answers. "I saw it. It a city made of coral." It didn't occur to her that at the depths she'd gone, there shouldn't have been coral. "I was the healer and it was....I don't know how many fathoms down. I didn't think to measure." Frowning, she reaches for a stubbled chin to turn his face this way and that. "I might be able to but I'm not going to try. Now, you answer my questions."
Lucien tolerated her inspection for a time though Mahri's touch elicited frowns and the occasional wince when she came too close to those strange lumps. His lips were clamped shut, Lucien not really knowing how to say what he was feeling. It was strange, and disorienting. He wondered if a fever dream could last beyond the fever itself... Finally he jerked his head away and itched madly at his forehead, no longer able to resist digging his nails in a little bit, and sighed in relief. "Damn mosquitoes." Though where he would've got mosquito bites at that time of year out at sea is anybody's guess. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just a couple stupid bug bites." The stubborn way he set his jaw would be reminiscent of one or possibly both his parents, a plain signal that he seriously no longer wished to be fussed over like an infant. His glare at Mahri softened, though, a second later. "Sorry. I'm just kind of tired." He itched his lumpy skin again, and then stopped in case it led to more overly-concerned harassment from the lycan. "Will you tell me more about this city? The mers? I heard there's different kinds, and even then sub-sets of those..." His gaze was dark, portholes looking in on her from a deep, moonless night filled with a predatory hunger.. for knowledge, in this case, though it seemed intense, even for him. In the background, Gideon was staring at Mahri the way a large dog stares at a smaller, much more annoying one. But he'd pour her a rum, along with his own, and scoop a glass of cool rain-water from the appropriate barrel for Luc.
Mahri can take a hint. Occasionally so that when Luc pulls away from her, she simply drops her hands. A skeptical twist of her lips is meant to convey the fact she does not believe it to be mosquito bites, but nevertheless will let it go for now. She'll keep a careful eye on those blemishes though, should one get scratched open. The apology went a long way to softening her towards Luc, not that it actually takes much anyway, "Stop scratching," she orders in a softer tone. Cocking her head, she trains her gaze onto the gently rolling waters, the rocking of Eternity barely noticed beneath her feet. Whatever looks Gideon is giving the lycan, she isn't paying attention to, secure in her position on this ship and the command she wields when the Captain is away. That doesn't mean she won't accept the rum passed to her, even if she doesn't drink it as quickly as she normally would have. "It was open. Like..a grotto?..anyway, the city was just a city and the people were people with fish tails." She hadn't taken the time to really notice the hierarchy, not really. Frowning, the rum is brought to her lips for a small taste. "Why so interested?" she eventually questions. A thin line of thought enters here..the wreck and the toxic cargo is still down there. Somewhere.
Lucien stared at her like she'd left her brain underwater. "Because it's fascinating." The kid was getting cranky, tired and driven to distraction by the maddening itch his skin. Which he promptly scratched, against orders. What was she gonna do? Keelhaul him? "Not much is known about them. The ones that aren't keen on coming to land, anyhow. "Wild" mers, they're called, but there are legends of cities, going back thousands of years..." He grasped for the water Gideon offered and drank it all in a few gulps. ".. and you've not only found a city, but met the ones that built it?" He quirked a white brow, as if to say, 'does that answer your question?' And then he scratched some more, carefully, because it hurt to touch those large lumps directly. And besides, they felt icky, sort of globular, and moved a little under his skin when pressed. Lucien glanced glumly at his scarred arm. "What d'you think the chances are of my dad letting me go back down there?"
Mahri didn't miss the look, but only smirks at it, tossing the rest of the rum back, in that customary manner that denoted a hint of occasional impatience. "Fascinating? Kid, you have no idea." Alright, so maybe she'd go back if she could remember how to get there but everything looked the same underwater. Mostly it was blurry. "Don't scratch," she says absently before continuing, "Yeah, I met them but they ain't much for conversation. I don't think they speak much at all, at least not the ones I met. Mostly was a game of charades to get my bloody point across. Keep scratching an' I'm gonna have to wrap your hands up, or maybe ye head." Handing off her cup to Gideon for a refill, fully expecting it by those actions, Mahri gives a tilt to her head, "Go down there? In the water, where you got bitten by an eel then nearly died from fever and poison? Oh..Maybe sometime in the next millennium."
Lucien brightened somewhat while she spoke about the sub-aquatic culture, dark eyes keen on her, head nodding as he absorbed every small detail. He declined to point out to her that speech as air-breathers knew it simply wouldn't work, and was about to ask her what, if any, sound they made when she ordered him to stop scratching again. Which, of course, made him feel itchy. He was already relieving that sensation with his thumbnail, when her last comment was made, and he slouched back down under that horrible floral cover. "I thought you'd say something like that...." The youth sighed. "But there's got to be a way. There's so much to learn. Maybe you could talk to him.. and Mum.. for me?" He had on his best 'please' face, while he asked it. The little arachnid passenger he'd been hauling around was still comfortable, somewhere in a hem of his shirt, but any ticklish feeling was drowned out by.. yes, that goddamned itch. Which he'd scratch, again.
Mahri puffed out her cheeks and reached to swat at the scratching hand before answering with a question all her own, "Do you honestly," the rum is handed to her and she takes it with a nod of thanks, "think that talking to either of them when it concerns what they see as your safety will work? Think about it Luc, we'd have to.." stopping the flow of words, the lycan blinks a few times before glancing at Gideon. He's mute, right? Doesn't matter since there are more ways to give information.. "Never mind what we'd have to do." Another meaningful look is given to Lucien over the rim of her cup as she tips the rum back. "C'mon. I might have a salve for that itch." And a wad of bandages to cover his head and keep those nails from breaking open the pustules.
Lucien stared at Mahri - again. Only this time, her sanity was less in question. Or was it more? Luc didn't really mind, so long as she was hinting at what he thought she was hinting at. Once again, a poor cousin of good cheer settled on him, and he fidgeted a great deal less while she salved and bandaged the lumps. Which had, at some point, developed creases in their middles, faint but visible. "M'thirsty," he said, afterwards, eying his empty water glass in he most thinly disguised sort of hint. "But tell me, first, what you plan on doing to help them get their city back?" No need to elaborate on who he was talking about.
Mahri , done with the salving and bandaging, slants a look toward Gideon, their erstwhile and tenacious shadow. She doesn't trust him, even if he had tried to help get Lucien back below and to bed. Even though he kept a constant vigil on the lad and obviously cared as much about him as just about anyone who met Luc. What she was thinking went against what the mute was trying to accomplish. Worried more about those creased lumps, Mahri snatches the glass and thrusts it towards Gideon, "Water, for Luc." With a scowl, the big man takes the glass and stalks off. While he's gone, she can speak freely, "We're going to get some of that kelp, a lot of it, and go exploring. My dagger is down there somewhere and two eyes are better than one. If, by chance, we happen to find the city again, then we find it. Besides," she leans back, "salt water might heal up that rash of yours."
Lucien widened his eyes, brows raised, and nodded at the sheer sense she was making. "Do it a lot of good, perhaps," he agreed, eyes shiftily shifting to make sure Gideon was nowhere near. The mute was his friend, but he was a sailor first. On Leoxander's ship. "Not to mention the possible trade.. Mahri. Don't speak of this to anyone." Luc was talking fast now, as wheels in his head started turning. "Get it? Trade. With creatures that can plumb goodness-knows-what depths. No need for breath. No risk of breathing-herbs running out. Plus, they could probably stand the pressure down real deep. Ocean floor, gulfs, Mahri. There's stuff down there, probably, that we cannot even imagine. Minerals, species..." he was really on a roll, cheeks flushed, eyes shining. "Medicines. Magics. And if we helped them recover their home..." She had to see where he was going, with that.
Mahri raised a hand to slow him down. Yeah, her own greed was aware of all the possibilities. "Luc, I get it. Trade, but first we have to find them again." About then, Gideon came back and thrust the glass of rain-water towards his charge. Clamming up, Mahri gives a subtle shake of her head and questioned her own sanity. She'd be dead..really dead..if something happens to Lucien in this venture she'd probably kill herself to save Leo and Jolie the trouble. But..the sense of adventure and profit was intoxicating and contagious. "Tomorrow night. We'll talk."
Lucien nodded, sipping the water he longed to gulp down but didn't, preferring to keep his eye on Gideon, who was keeping both suspicious eyes on the pair. "Alright. Sounds good." And just because Mahri seemed keen on letting him go with her, he resisted the next wave of crawling itch, though he had to dig his nails into palms to keep them from scratching his bandages loose.
Mahri 's boots struck the steps leading down with muted thunks, given she was trying to be stealthy about her return to the ship. It isn't much of a surprise to find Gideon keeping watch over Lucien. As for herself, Mahri is all cleaned up, the decks were scrubbed and pails of fish entrails and leftovers had properly been disposed of--more so that the lycan and former vampire couldn't fling them at each other in the near future. This doesn't mean she's gotten much sleep and it shows in the dark hollows under her eyes and the slightly glazed sheen. "You can't die of boredom," she teases as she comes alongside the bunk Luc is sequestered on and, giving Gideon a brief nod, takes over station in the stool, not that the huge man goes far. He does take his job seriously after all. Leaning forward, elbows braced on obviously new leathers and fingers laced together to rest between her knees, the Eternity's first mate looks intently in Luc's face, gauging just how recovered he might be.
Lucien gave Mahri a languid look that might express his doubt at her claim of boredom being non-fatal, then turned his gaze toward the elegant arachnid weaving its thready net above. Maybe she still had a very faint hint of fishguts about her. Maybe he was just so wracked with ennui caused by the enforced lack of activity that it had become unbearable. But his nose scrunched up, while he spoke: "Thanks, hey. For helping me." He was not unaware - really, how could he be? - of how much trouble had been caused by his errant and fever-induced trip AWOL to Cenril. He sighed, pushed the comforter down with his good arm. His wounded one, in no need of bandages now, lay exposed on the blanket below, the peculiarly-regular shape of the scar standing out in vivid red against skin that'd regained a little of its former healthy hue. His observation of the spider probably had much to do with him having trouble meeting Mahri's eyes. "Is my Dad ..." he swallowed. "Is he like, really mad at me?"
Mahri had to smile at the expected response--that teenage visual equivalent of 'yeah, right' she got. Again with the thanks, as if she'd done something out of the ordinary. It was, to say the least, uncomfortable. The smile turns to a slight frown as she leans back, crosses her arms and drapes one leg over the other, "Yeah, I'm a real 'gift'," she loosely quoted, following the kid's gaze to stare at the web and arachnid therein, that is until the odd scar is revealed. Then her eyes are drawn there even while answering that hesitant question, "No, I think he was more mad at himself than you, not that he'll ever admit it." Jerking her gaze away from that scar, Mahri settles her attention on Lucien. What's one more secret between them, right? And this would be a small one compared, "If you can walk from here to the stairs, you can come up with me and get some fresh air. One stumble and it's back to the bunk with you. Agreed?" Sensing Gideon's protesting step towards her, Mahri raises a hand sharply, arching a brow towards Lucien while she waits for his answer. Perhaps the sound of grinding teeth could be heard from behind.
Lucien snorted softly at her embarrassment over the paraphrased compliment, but humor fell away from him as Mahri speculated on the source of Leo's mood. He muttered, perhaps not quite loud enough to make out, "But that doesn't make any sense.." As far as he knew, he'd snuck out while they were getting some rest and a meal. The youth was very glad for the distraction of her next statement, and not only for the awkward topic preceding it. Gideon got a sly and smarmy half-grin, and Luc sat up quickly, kicking layers of wool and quilted cotton off himself. He'd refused to wear the red and white striped pyjama shirt Jolie gave him, preferring his usual t-shirtlike garment, but she'd made him wear the pants, and he frowned at them. But hey, a walk on deck wasn't to be delayed by something as trivial as manly pride. He swung his legs over the edge of the hammock, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Like the spider, above, analogously enough, which had quit its task and picked that very moment to drop on a long, slender thread to the back of Luc's neck, where it'd nestle in the hair at his nape, unnoticed. Luc blinked hard, determined to pass muster on that test-walk -- he had no doubt the edgy Gideon would toss him back in the hammock at the slightest misstep. Bare feet settled on the boards, and he rose carefully, pausing to get his bearings. Then he padded, one slow foot in front of the other, toward the stairs. A glance back to Mahri, as if to say, "All good?" Gideon casually - and not without a meaningful stare cast upon the two - unhooked a harpoon from a rack on the wall and inspected its sharp tip with the much-scarred ball of his thumb.
Mahri was actually quite impressed and inordinately proud of the kid's stubbornness. Of course, he was far from being a kid anymore and she had to keep reminding herself of that fact. Mocking a resigned sigh, she pushes herself out of the chair and ambles along behind Lucien. She doesn't miss the message Gideon was sending and she shrugs, "Five minutes won't kill him. Besides, fresh air will be good for him. I'm the bloody healer ain't I?" No, she isn't but she also won't be threatened nor does she appreciate being made to feel she's doing something wrong. Even if it is against Captain and Mrs. Captain's orders. She lived dangerously most of the time, why stop now? Turning back to Luc, she smirks, "Stairs next, boy-o. I'll be right behind you." And she'll be watching very, very carefully.
Lucien managed them all right, if not three at a time like usual. One by one, he eased up each step, the palm of his good arm planting the stairwell timber to keep himself steady. Once above, he took a long, deep breath as if emerging from a dive in deep waters. The wind felt good on his face, ruffling a snowy shock of overgrown, bed-mussed hair. He waited for Mahri, whom he heard only a pace behind, and said, quietly, "I had the strangest dream, Aunty Mah."
Mahri comes along side Lucien, unspoken support if he needed it, and for a moment her gaze is drawn to the water as though expecting yellow eyes to be peering up at her from the surface. Shaking herself out of the expectation, she glances towards Lucien, "Did you? What about?" Her tone might have been casual, but there's something rather intense in those oddly silver eyes. If she was bothered by the familial address, she didn't show it. Quite the opposite, it gave her a decidedly warm feeling... more than love or affection could have and something she hadn't felt in years. With her parents.
Lucien's voice gained a slightly distant quality as he started an unhasty amble toward the rails. "I was somewhere far away. Like, far. In the stars, maybe. And I was talking to someone..." the details were growing foggier, even as he tried to express them. After a moment's silence, in which he grasped the rail, left-handed, he added, "... yeah. Never mind. It was just weird." The spider, disturbed by the wind, crept under the collar of his shirt, perceived if at all as merely the shifting of Luc's hair. Lucien, unwitting carrier, rubbed at his forehead as if something there was irritating him, and shifted a look to Mahri. "Then a forest. I remember that better. There was a deer... we were running, so fast..." He fell silent again, focusing on the act of walking for a few paces. "Was nothing, I guess. Just a dream."
Mahri isn't so sure it was a dream and it might explain to her why it seemed he hadn't exactly been there when she'd healed him. Pressing her lips together, Mahri follows and nods, better to let him think it was a dream rather than the fact she thought he had actually died for a time there. "Dreams can be strange, Luc." She caught the movement, not the spider but the rubbing of forehead, from the corner of her eye and she snaps a narrow-eyed look Luc's way. "Are you ok? Maybe we should get you back to bed.." If he got sick again, it would be her fault and the Gods only knew .. well, she knew and didn't want to dwell on the consequence if he fell ill again.
Lucien nodded hastily. "Nah, I'm fine. Really." He was feeling sort of off-color and rather strange, actually, but wasn't going to admit it. He'd only just got here, after all, and wasn't keen to take to his hammock again so quickly. "Just been lying down too long is all." They were headed, mainly due to his present left-handed condition, toward the prow some distance away yet, where a knotted scarf he recognized as his mother's flapped and billowed, tied to the ship's nethermost point. "Just to the figurehead and back, okay?" He glanced across at Mahri again from under that overgrown hair, a gesture very like his father's own. Then added, in a stronger tone, "I'm not a little kid, you know." At least a head taller than his "Aunty Mah", and his beard growing in again, white spikes sparse on his chin. Albeit he was dressed in those ridiculous stripy pants.
You 's "body guard", in a quite literal sense since Jolie had instructed Gideon in no uncertain terms to watch over the youth, followed behind, the harpoon slung over one broad shoulder and the sun glinting off his shaven pate.
Mahri isn't entirely convinced he was fine but with Gideon on hand should anything go wrong and herself there, Mahri can't really find a reason to force him back -- and she probably could if she wanted. Eying the distance to the figurehead and back, the lycan nods reluctantly. Just like an aunty, right? Spoil the little shyte and send him back to his parents. Now..did she divulge the conversation she'd had with his mother the eve before..or find something else to talk about. Probably something else. "Did you know there is..or was a whole city of merfolk not far from here?" If she'd had pockets, Mahri would have stuck her hands in them. Since she didn't they get clasped at the small of her back while they walk. Going on, as though telling a made up story, she talks, "They lived there for centuries, peacefully, until one day a plague hit their people. Young and old were dying daily, in the hundreds and they had no way to treat the sickness. Their..healers had never seen anything like it." Another glance to the water, over the railing and thoughts of the gems tucked away on Illoria, anchored not far. "So, they got desperate and one of their leaders went to the surface for help. He brought back a woman of amazing abilities," Yes, stretching it there a bit, but if no one was going to believe it anyway, why not? " and showed her where the sickness started. She saw leagues and leagues of barrels made of metal scattering the sea floor and something leaking from them." Talking, she told Lucien how this woman had healed so many, drawing on a different energy that she'd ever encountered and how the merfolk moved, deserting their city and leaving their savior in safety near an island. Running out of words, Mahri eventually goes quiet and by then, they had probably gained the prow to look over the figure head.
Lucien would listen quite intently as they strolled the deck at an easy pace, stopping now and then while he absorbed the parts that really fascinated him. Dark eyes widened often at details which corroborated various strange sightings and artefacts he'd come across while diving in the area, and then turned out to gaze upon the reefs and the vague shadow of the gulfs beyond. While Mahri spoke of the toxins that had forced the mer-people to flee, he hardly breathed at all but would let her finish the tale before venturing to speak, "Mahri." He was trying to untie the knot in that scarf with one hand. "How long ago did all this happen, did you say?" There was an urgent tone in his voice, a quiet demand for the knowledge. The wind ruffled his hair again, pushing it back from his brow, where she might notice the skin had grown blotchy, lumpish, as if the lad had incurred an oddly regular pattern of severe mosquito bites. Too, these lumps had appeared on either temple. Luc scratched at them idly, while he waited for her reply.
Mahri slants a look his way before edging around and tugging the scarf free of the loosened knot and handing it to Lucien. Upon looking at him, up close now, her eyes widen with alarm quickly covered, "Luc, we have to get you back below. Now." Her tone says she isn't going to listen to arguments and she hasn't yet answered his question. Gideon, not far away, hears the urgency in her voice and while he's mute, he sure as hell isn't deaf. The huge man, a flicker of genuine worry on his weathered face, comes closer just in case the young man, not boy, puts up a fuss. As for how long ago? "It doesn't matter when. They're gone," she assumes it's because of the merfolk he asked anyway.
Lucien's scowl puckered those weird marks, making them stand out even further from his skin. He wrapped the scarf around his wrist with a fluid looping motion, and eyed the fussing pair darkly. Now, he loved his parents more than anything in this world, but Lucien had had enough fussing to last him into old age, and he deeply resented the idea of crawling back under that gods-awful floral coverlet. "I'm -okay- Mahri," he insisted, though his eyes were set on the harpoon-wielding pirate who was steadily advancing on him now. "I feel just fine. See?" He raised his injured arm, which tingled to the point of being painful while he flexed his fingers. "I don't wanna spend all day in..." He'd dodge Gideon's meaty, grasping fist and continue, "... in that damn hammock." The peculiar rash, resembling some sort of severe allergy by now, was growing worse by the moment.
Mahri isn't having any of it, "Lucien-" she barks with authority, not that she expects it to do any good, "Would you bloody well listen to me! There is something wrong and I need to get a look at you." While he's dodging Gideon, Mahri's grinding her teeth. "Fine, you don't have to go back below but I want the truth," her eyes take in the growing rash, "How do you feel? Itchy, dizzy..ill in anyway? And the mer-city was deserted a day or so before I found you and your father in Cenril." There, she answered that question in hopes that he'll calm down. Maybe..bribery will work? "If you just do as I ask, I'll answer all your questions," Gideon, mid stalking mode, looks at the woman as though she's lost her bloody mind, and maybe she has. In the mean time, Mahri may as well have admitted she was the "amazing woman" in her story.
Lucien stopped dodging, and stared at Mahri. Were all women this difficult? She'd made him an offer he couldn't refuse, though, his desire for knowledge more powerful even than his wish for fresh air and freedom from the hold's confines. "Yeah, yeah, okay then..." he grumbled, shrugging Gideon off, who ignored him and Mahri both, clamping one huge hand down on the boy's shoulder like a prison guard capturing an escapee. More grumbling. But Luc allowed himself to be frog-marched back toward the hatch, while he shot questions at the lycan. "So, you saw it? The city? That was you, wasn't it, the healer who helped them? How many were there? How far out was this place? Could you find it again?" Completely disregarding Mahri's own questions.
Mahri is as clever as any other woman, and maybe more so. Following along, she waits til the three of them are below and a lamp is brought over, orders to Gideon as though she'd all the right to do so (and in her mind, she did) so she could get a better look at the spreading rash. While she inspects, her fingers tracing lightly over the borders of it, she answers. "I saw it. It a city made of coral." It didn't occur to her that at the depths she'd gone, there shouldn't have been coral. "I was the healer and it was....I don't know how many fathoms down. I didn't think to measure." Frowning, she reaches for a stubbled chin to turn his face this way and that. "I might be able to but I'm not going to try. Now, you answer my questions."
Lucien tolerated her inspection for a time though Mahri's touch elicited frowns and the occasional wince when she came too close to those strange lumps. His lips were clamped shut, Lucien not really knowing how to say what he was feeling. It was strange, and disorienting. He wondered if a fever dream could last beyond the fever itself... Finally he jerked his head away and itched madly at his forehead, no longer able to resist digging his nails in a little bit, and sighed in relief. "Damn mosquitoes." Though where he would've got mosquito bites at that time of year out at sea is anybody's guess. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just a couple stupid bug bites." The stubborn way he set his jaw would be reminiscent of one or possibly both his parents, a plain signal that he seriously no longer wished to be fussed over like an infant. His glare at Mahri softened, though, a second later. "Sorry. I'm just kind of tired." He itched his lumpy skin again, and then stopped in case it led to more overly-concerned harassment from the lycan. "Will you tell me more about this city? The mers? I heard there's different kinds, and even then sub-sets of those..." His gaze was dark, portholes looking in on her from a deep, moonless night filled with a predatory hunger.. for knowledge, in this case, though it seemed intense, even for him. In the background, Gideon was staring at Mahri the way a large dog stares at a smaller, much more annoying one. But he'd pour her a rum, along with his own, and scoop a glass of cool rain-water from the appropriate barrel for Luc.
Mahri can take a hint. Occasionally so that when Luc pulls away from her, she simply drops her hands. A skeptical twist of her lips is meant to convey the fact she does not believe it to be mosquito bites, but nevertheless will let it go for now. She'll keep a careful eye on those blemishes though, should one get scratched open. The apology went a long way to softening her towards Luc, not that it actually takes much anyway, "Stop scratching," she orders in a softer tone. Cocking her head, she trains her gaze onto the gently rolling waters, the rocking of Eternity barely noticed beneath her feet. Whatever looks Gideon is giving the lycan, she isn't paying attention to, secure in her position on this ship and the command she wields when the Captain is away. That doesn't mean she won't accept the rum passed to her, even if she doesn't drink it as quickly as she normally would have. "It was open. Like..a grotto?..anyway, the city was just a city and the people were people with fish tails." She hadn't taken the time to really notice the hierarchy, not really. Frowning, the rum is brought to her lips for a small taste. "Why so interested?" she eventually questions. A thin line of thought enters here..the wreck and the toxic cargo is still down there. Somewhere.
Lucien stared at her like she'd left her brain underwater. "Because it's fascinating." The kid was getting cranky, tired and driven to distraction by the maddening itch his skin. Which he promptly scratched, against orders. What was she gonna do? Keelhaul him? "Not much is known about them. The ones that aren't keen on coming to land, anyhow. "Wild" mers, they're called, but there are legends of cities, going back thousands of years..." He grasped for the water Gideon offered and drank it all in a few gulps. ".. and you've not only found a city, but met the ones that built it?" He quirked a white brow, as if to say, 'does that answer your question?' And then he scratched some more, carefully, because it hurt to touch those large lumps directly. And besides, they felt icky, sort of globular, and moved a little under his skin when pressed. Lucien glanced glumly at his scarred arm. "What d'you think the chances are of my dad letting me go back down there?"
Mahri didn't miss the look, but only smirks at it, tossing the rest of the rum back, in that customary manner that denoted a hint of occasional impatience. "Fascinating? Kid, you have no idea." Alright, so maybe she'd go back if she could remember how to get there but everything looked the same underwater. Mostly it was blurry. "Don't scratch," she says absently before continuing, "Yeah, I met them but they ain't much for conversation. I don't think they speak much at all, at least not the ones I met. Mostly was a game of charades to get my bloody point across. Keep scratching an' I'm gonna have to wrap your hands up, or maybe ye head." Handing off her cup to Gideon for a refill, fully expecting it by those actions, Mahri gives a tilt to her head, "Go down there? In the water, where you got bitten by an eel then nearly died from fever and poison? Oh..Maybe sometime in the next millennium."
Lucien brightened somewhat while she spoke about the sub-aquatic culture, dark eyes keen on her, head nodding as he absorbed every small detail. He declined to point out to her that speech as air-breathers knew it simply wouldn't work, and was about to ask her what, if any, sound they made when she ordered him to stop scratching again. Which, of course, made him feel itchy. He was already relieving that sensation with his thumbnail, when her last comment was made, and he slouched back down under that horrible floral cover. "I thought you'd say something like that...." The youth sighed. "But there's got to be a way. There's so much to learn. Maybe you could talk to him.. and Mum.. for me?" He had on his best 'please' face, while he asked it. The little arachnid passenger he'd been hauling around was still comfortable, somewhere in a hem of his shirt, but any ticklish feeling was drowned out by.. yes, that goddamned itch. Which he'd scratch, again.
Mahri puffed out her cheeks and reached to swat at the scratching hand before answering with a question all her own, "Do you honestly," the rum is handed to her and she takes it with a nod of thanks, "think that talking to either of them when it concerns what they see as your safety will work? Think about it Luc, we'd have to.." stopping the flow of words, the lycan blinks a few times before glancing at Gideon. He's mute, right? Doesn't matter since there are more ways to give information.. "Never mind what we'd have to do." Another meaningful look is given to Lucien over the rim of her cup as she tips the rum back. "C'mon. I might have a salve for that itch." And a wad of bandages to cover his head and keep those nails from breaking open the pustules.
Lucien stared at Mahri - again. Only this time, her sanity was less in question. Or was it more? Luc didn't really mind, so long as she was hinting at what he thought she was hinting at. Once again, a poor cousin of good cheer settled on him, and he fidgeted a great deal less while she salved and bandaged the lumps. Which had, at some point, developed creases in their middles, faint but visible. "M'thirsty," he said, afterwards, eying his empty water glass in he most thinly disguised sort of hint. "But tell me, first, what you plan on doing to help them get their city back?" No need to elaborate on who he was talking about.
Mahri , done with the salving and bandaging, slants a look toward Gideon, their erstwhile and tenacious shadow. She doesn't trust him, even if he had tried to help get Lucien back below and to bed. Even though he kept a constant vigil on the lad and obviously cared as much about him as just about anyone who met Luc. What she was thinking went against what the mute was trying to accomplish. Worried more about those creased lumps, Mahri snatches the glass and thrusts it towards Gideon, "Water, for Luc." With a scowl, the big man takes the glass and stalks off. While he's gone, she can speak freely, "We're going to get some of that kelp, a lot of it, and go exploring. My dagger is down there somewhere and two eyes are better than one. If, by chance, we happen to find the city again, then we find it. Besides," she leans back, "salt water might heal up that rash of yours."
Lucien widened his eyes, brows raised, and nodded at the sheer sense she was making. "Do it a lot of good, perhaps," he agreed, eyes shiftily shifting to make sure Gideon was nowhere near. The mute was his friend, but he was a sailor first. On Leoxander's ship. "Not to mention the possible trade.. Mahri. Don't speak of this to anyone." Luc was talking fast now, as wheels in his head started turning. "Get it? Trade. With creatures that can plumb goodness-knows-what depths. No need for breath. No risk of breathing-herbs running out. Plus, they could probably stand the pressure down real deep. Ocean floor, gulfs, Mahri. There's stuff down there, probably, that we cannot even imagine. Minerals, species..." he was really on a roll, cheeks flushed, eyes shining. "Medicines. Magics. And if we helped them recover their home..." She had to see where he was going, with that.
Mahri raised a hand to slow him down. Yeah, her own greed was aware of all the possibilities. "Luc, I get it. Trade, but first we have to find them again." About then, Gideon came back and thrust the glass of rain-water towards his charge. Clamming up, Mahri gives a subtle shake of her head and questioned her own sanity. She'd be dead..really dead..if something happens to Lucien in this venture she'd probably kill herself to save Leo and Jolie the trouble. But..the sense of adventure and profit was intoxicating and contagious. "Tomorrow night. We'll talk."
Lucien nodded, sipping the water he longed to gulp down but didn't, preferring to keep his eye on Gideon, who was keeping both suspicious eyes on the pair. "Alright. Sounds good." And just because Mahri seemed keen on letting him go with her, he resisted the next wave of crawling itch, though he had to dig his nails into palms to keep them from scratching his bandages loose.