Post by Joliette Thorne on May 2, 2008 3:23:44 GMT -5
It'd been a long time since Tene stood on this deck. Below the snap and ruffle of black sails buffeted by the evening sou'westerly breeze, the vampiress stood with pale fingers clasped to the railing, her eyes trained out over waves that knifed across the ocean's surface, as though looking into the eternity the ship was named for. Her sigh would be lost to the wind, black hair wisping over her face as she turned away toward the mainsail mast, a small dagger in her hand. Upon its weathered timber, she'd pause to carve a few words, and then return to the rail and her hopeless vigil. Were any to notice it in times to follow, they'd make out the three letters comprising the Cap'n's name, surrounded by a rough-hew nautical scroll that bore the phrase: In Memorium.
Portea slowly strolls onto the deck of this magnificent ship, each footstep being propelled by curiosity and curiosity alone. He turns his head this way, and that, in an attempt to absorb the grandeur that this marvellous boat represents. Soon enough, his vaporous gaze falls upon a familiar figure: Tenebrae. Swift steps carry him over to her with silent ease. He leans against the railing right beside her and cocks his head slightly, offering a warm smile. "Hello, stranger." The soft tones of his voice echo about, bouncing off the nearby waves, adding a certain depth to his voice in an uncanny way.
Eyren clatters up the ladder leading from below, seeming in hot pursuit of the rat; who'd she'd been sharing a space with for almost a week now, a broom firmly clasped in her hands as she lunged towards the vermin and the shiny prize it had claimed from her pack while she'd been resting. She opens her mouth to let forth a string of curses that would have made any sailor proud, when she suddenly realizes that she is not alone. Pivoting on her heels she turns to survey the assembled faces, recognizing first Tenebrae, then Portea. Inwardly, she'd wonder at them being there at all, for she'd had this ship to herself for long stretches of sunsets and glorious sunrises, with nothing but the whispering of the tide and the occasional call of a seabird stretching its wings amidst the brilliant explosion of the suns first rays. For the moment, she'd shake her hair in front of her face so as to hide the soft hue of red that had begun to fill her cheeks and gently set the broom in a nook, content to be silent for now; at least till she could think of something that wasn't branded upon a sailor's tongue.
Isen climbs silently over the ship's rail, his robes dripping wet from the brine, as the lycan had elected to swim, rather than trust a sailor to ferry him. His eyes settle on the figures of Tenebrae and Eyren, and Portea is noted, too, but given a wary look. Isen chooses to stay hidden in the shadows, shivering slightly as the cool night breeze blows against his sodden form. He settles into a crouch, keeping himself as warm as possible.
The sun-swart crew of surly buccaneers who'd once guarded the Cap'n's ship from interlopers -- or, at least, taken time to rob and murder many in the attempt to seek out Eternity's hiding-spot -- had long since scattered, returning to their sundry wharves, taverns and dens once the lynchpin Leoxander had gone. The decks were unkempt with gull-leavings and salt stains, the sailropes frayed and the great black sails themselves tattered in places. Yes, she'd been away too long, let things get too far beyond her. This was no way for Leo's pride and joy to be, slowly decaying in dock. The softest of steps came, behind her. For a moment her heart juddered -- for Leo himself had a similar quiet tread -- until the voice and face proved another's and Portea would be greeted with an arced brow. "Stranger, indeed." She allowed a smile to unfurl on her lips. "You're a long way from your mediation- tree..." Just then, a clatter from below. Tene whirled to it, hand light on her sword-hilt, only to stare vapidly at Eyren for a second or two. "Uh." It seemed a far cry from glory, that so many felt brave enough to board this ship at will. "Eyren. What are you doing here?" Ibsen’s arrival was sensed-- her clan-mate's obvious lack of willingness to be observed respected, though if Portea was looking Eyren's way and Eyren wasn't paying attention, she'd give the sodden lycan a quick nod.
Portea chuckles softly before replying in good humor. "Who says I have to restrict myself to one spot?.." He stops abruptly, seeing Tenebrae whirl about, and turns slowly to face the cause. His lips slowly curve upwards once more as he notes another familiar face. "Well isn't this a coincidence?" He asks in a sort of rhetorical way, letting the vampiress' question receive the attention required. Ever observant, he notices a sound that is out of place: the slight drip..drip.. of water hitting the wood deck. Granted this is a ship, and this ship is resting upon many a currents of water, but neither of those can account for the peculiar dripping sound. He gives himself a mental head shake and decides to ignore it as much as possible.
Eyren raises her head, the salty breeze blowing her hair from her face as she continued to quietly regard both Tenebrae and Portea; her mind set to pose an identical question to them both, yet she stays her tongue, instead setting her gaze to the rolling expanse of ocean beyond the sagging railings of what she'd gauge to have been a magnificent ship once upon a time. She'd think back to the nights when even the waves seemed to hush and she'd hear the steps of that spectral crew, sometimes she swore she heard their voices, gruff and far away, yet were she to creep up the stairs, she imagined she'd see them all assembled upon this very deck. With a shake of the head and a slight twinge as the ship shifted slightly as another weight was added aboard its deck she'd murmur "It's quiet out here, I'm alone but I'm not lonely."
Isen knows that his cover is blown when he sees Tenebrae's nod, and he decides that Portea is safe, since both Eyren and Tenebrae seem to accept him. He steps forward, into the faint moonlight, boards creaking under his bare feet as he approaches the trio. "Good evening," he says, his rasping voice quiet, subdued.
Of the three others assembled, it was only Isen who'd not have the woman's hackles up instinctively via a mix of vampiric territorialism and her devotion to the ship's owner. But as neither of the remaining pair were perceived as anything but friendly, she willed her true nature to abeyance, allowing a more human demeanour to settle on her. Portea and Eyren received a nod and another raised brow, respectively, while the lycan was her chosen focus for the now. "Evening Isen. What brings you aboard?"
Portea glances over towards the lycan, taking in each perceivable detail: including the water dripping off of his robes, oh how the pieces fit together now. "Hello." He says quietly, giving a slight nod of his head. He leans back against the railing of the ship, his somber gaze alternating between the three others.
Eyren had been eyeing Tenebrae wearily, never sure of the various moods of this mysterious woman, and in what form they'd manifest themselves. Noting that for the moment she seemed relatively calm Eyren would move upon silently booted to take up a position along the far end of the railing; careful not to put too much of her weight upon the lightly rusted barrier between herself in the deceptively calm sea below. As Isen materialized from the shadows, looking for the world like a bedraggled cast away, given up to the seas embrace, she'd offer him a faint smile, before turning her attentions to the sea once more.
Isen stops a few feet away, eyeing Portea with noticeable distrust. While keeping a steady watch on the stranger, he replies to Tenebrae. "I was following you, of course. I was interested to see what business you had about this ship." Glancing at the inscription on the mast, he says, "I'm guessing that this was the pirate ship I was supposed to sail upon, long ago..." He returns Eyren's smile with a nod.
Tenebrae blew a breath out of one puffed cheek, this a signal of her chagrin as she glanced about the run-down schooner. "Ayup. This is she. Sad state. I'm hoping to get her back to herself, just in case..." Tene bit her lip. "In case we need her." She'd mask whatever emotion ran through her then with a polite smile. "Isen, this is Portea." A hand fluttered vaguely in the psion's direction. "I fell over him in the forest the other day. You know Eyren, I'd suppose.." They were both about the Corpse enough. But she'd look to Eyren then, clearing her throat to catch the woman's attention. "You know Portea?" The man sure got about.
Portea offers Isen a warm smile and a slight nod, extending his hand as well. "Hello, Isen." He says quietly, his somber gaze focusing in on the lycan before he glances back over to Eyren and Tenebrae. "We've met. Just so happened to be in the same spot that you stumbled over me." He replies in a soft, but humorous, tone.
Eyren turns from her scrutiny of the sea to look towards Tenebrae, her question having reached Eyren's ears. "Oh, yes Portea and I are acquainted" she'd chance a look of unsatisfied curiosity in the direction of Portea, recalling the happenings of that afternoon; her mind tracing over the many questions she hadn't thought to ask then. "It would seem that it is indeed a small world no?" she'd quip, her customary rye smile flittering across her features.
Isen eyes the extended hand for a moment, then slowly reaches out to shake it, the tendons standing out beneath the runes, causing his hand to resemble some sort of exotic claw. "Hello, Portea." He turns back to Tenebrae, saying, "Whatever would we need her for? I don't think we have a capable crew within the Cabal, do we?"
"Too small..." Though her reply to Eyren was mumbled more to herself than anyone else. She noted the amicable greeting between the men with satisfaction, though Isen's words had her frowning. "Eternity wasn't limited to Cabal alone, though it's the clan's ship. Leo hired crew from anywhere, as long as they were able." Her lips thinned a moment, the vampiress in obvious discomfort with the topic. "Isen, I want to get Eternity ship-shape. I'd like you help me do that. But for now.." Portea and Eyren were given a sweep of gaze to include them, "I have to run." Turning on her heel, she'd take for the rope ladder, only the briefest pause to whisper to Isen, "And I don't want anyone but crew lolling around on these decks." Of course, Tene assumed Isen would agree to the task. But if he had any objections he'd be making them to the wind, as she was gone..
Portea slowly strolls onto the deck of this magnificent ship, each footstep being propelled by curiosity and curiosity alone. He turns his head this way, and that, in an attempt to absorb the grandeur that this marvellous boat represents. Soon enough, his vaporous gaze falls upon a familiar figure: Tenebrae. Swift steps carry him over to her with silent ease. He leans against the railing right beside her and cocks his head slightly, offering a warm smile. "Hello, stranger." The soft tones of his voice echo about, bouncing off the nearby waves, adding a certain depth to his voice in an uncanny way.
Eyren clatters up the ladder leading from below, seeming in hot pursuit of the rat; who'd she'd been sharing a space with for almost a week now, a broom firmly clasped in her hands as she lunged towards the vermin and the shiny prize it had claimed from her pack while she'd been resting. She opens her mouth to let forth a string of curses that would have made any sailor proud, when she suddenly realizes that she is not alone. Pivoting on her heels she turns to survey the assembled faces, recognizing first Tenebrae, then Portea. Inwardly, she'd wonder at them being there at all, for she'd had this ship to herself for long stretches of sunsets and glorious sunrises, with nothing but the whispering of the tide and the occasional call of a seabird stretching its wings amidst the brilliant explosion of the suns first rays. For the moment, she'd shake her hair in front of her face so as to hide the soft hue of red that had begun to fill her cheeks and gently set the broom in a nook, content to be silent for now; at least till she could think of something that wasn't branded upon a sailor's tongue.
Isen climbs silently over the ship's rail, his robes dripping wet from the brine, as the lycan had elected to swim, rather than trust a sailor to ferry him. His eyes settle on the figures of Tenebrae and Eyren, and Portea is noted, too, but given a wary look. Isen chooses to stay hidden in the shadows, shivering slightly as the cool night breeze blows against his sodden form. He settles into a crouch, keeping himself as warm as possible.
The sun-swart crew of surly buccaneers who'd once guarded the Cap'n's ship from interlopers -- or, at least, taken time to rob and murder many in the attempt to seek out Eternity's hiding-spot -- had long since scattered, returning to their sundry wharves, taverns and dens once the lynchpin Leoxander had gone. The decks were unkempt with gull-leavings and salt stains, the sailropes frayed and the great black sails themselves tattered in places. Yes, she'd been away too long, let things get too far beyond her. This was no way for Leo's pride and joy to be, slowly decaying in dock. The softest of steps came, behind her. For a moment her heart juddered -- for Leo himself had a similar quiet tread -- until the voice and face proved another's and Portea would be greeted with an arced brow. "Stranger, indeed." She allowed a smile to unfurl on her lips. "You're a long way from your mediation- tree..." Just then, a clatter from below. Tene whirled to it, hand light on her sword-hilt, only to stare vapidly at Eyren for a second or two. "Uh." It seemed a far cry from glory, that so many felt brave enough to board this ship at will. "Eyren. What are you doing here?" Ibsen’s arrival was sensed-- her clan-mate's obvious lack of willingness to be observed respected, though if Portea was looking Eyren's way and Eyren wasn't paying attention, she'd give the sodden lycan a quick nod.
Portea chuckles softly before replying in good humor. "Who says I have to restrict myself to one spot?.." He stops abruptly, seeing Tenebrae whirl about, and turns slowly to face the cause. His lips slowly curve upwards once more as he notes another familiar face. "Well isn't this a coincidence?" He asks in a sort of rhetorical way, letting the vampiress' question receive the attention required. Ever observant, he notices a sound that is out of place: the slight drip..drip.. of water hitting the wood deck. Granted this is a ship, and this ship is resting upon many a currents of water, but neither of those can account for the peculiar dripping sound. He gives himself a mental head shake and decides to ignore it as much as possible.
Eyren raises her head, the salty breeze blowing her hair from her face as she continued to quietly regard both Tenebrae and Portea; her mind set to pose an identical question to them both, yet she stays her tongue, instead setting her gaze to the rolling expanse of ocean beyond the sagging railings of what she'd gauge to have been a magnificent ship once upon a time. She'd think back to the nights when even the waves seemed to hush and she'd hear the steps of that spectral crew, sometimes she swore she heard their voices, gruff and far away, yet were she to creep up the stairs, she imagined she'd see them all assembled upon this very deck. With a shake of the head and a slight twinge as the ship shifted slightly as another weight was added aboard its deck she'd murmur "It's quiet out here, I'm alone but I'm not lonely."
Isen knows that his cover is blown when he sees Tenebrae's nod, and he decides that Portea is safe, since both Eyren and Tenebrae seem to accept him. He steps forward, into the faint moonlight, boards creaking under his bare feet as he approaches the trio. "Good evening," he says, his rasping voice quiet, subdued.
Of the three others assembled, it was only Isen who'd not have the woman's hackles up instinctively via a mix of vampiric territorialism and her devotion to the ship's owner. But as neither of the remaining pair were perceived as anything but friendly, she willed her true nature to abeyance, allowing a more human demeanour to settle on her. Portea and Eyren received a nod and another raised brow, respectively, while the lycan was her chosen focus for the now. "Evening Isen. What brings you aboard?"
Portea glances over towards the lycan, taking in each perceivable detail: including the water dripping off of his robes, oh how the pieces fit together now. "Hello." He says quietly, giving a slight nod of his head. He leans back against the railing of the ship, his somber gaze alternating between the three others.
Eyren had been eyeing Tenebrae wearily, never sure of the various moods of this mysterious woman, and in what form they'd manifest themselves. Noting that for the moment she seemed relatively calm Eyren would move upon silently booted to take up a position along the far end of the railing; careful not to put too much of her weight upon the lightly rusted barrier between herself in the deceptively calm sea below. As Isen materialized from the shadows, looking for the world like a bedraggled cast away, given up to the seas embrace, she'd offer him a faint smile, before turning her attentions to the sea once more.
Isen stops a few feet away, eyeing Portea with noticeable distrust. While keeping a steady watch on the stranger, he replies to Tenebrae. "I was following you, of course. I was interested to see what business you had about this ship." Glancing at the inscription on the mast, he says, "I'm guessing that this was the pirate ship I was supposed to sail upon, long ago..." He returns Eyren's smile with a nod.
Tenebrae blew a breath out of one puffed cheek, this a signal of her chagrin as she glanced about the run-down schooner. "Ayup. This is she. Sad state. I'm hoping to get her back to herself, just in case..." Tene bit her lip. "In case we need her." She'd mask whatever emotion ran through her then with a polite smile. "Isen, this is Portea." A hand fluttered vaguely in the psion's direction. "I fell over him in the forest the other day. You know Eyren, I'd suppose.." They were both about the Corpse enough. But she'd look to Eyren then, clearing her throat to catch the woman's attention. "You know Portea?" The man sure got about.
Portea offers Isen a warm smile and a slight nod, extending his hand as well. "Hello, Isen." He says quietly, his somber gaze focusing in on the lycan before he glances back over to Eyren and Tenebrae. "We've met. Just so happened to be in the same spot that you stumbled over me." He replies in a soft, but humorous, tone.
Eyren turns from her scrutiny of the sea to look towards Tenebrae, her question having reached Eyren's ears. "Oh, yes Portea and I are acquainted" she'd chance a look of unsatisfied curiosity in the direction of Portea, recalling the happenings of that afternoon; her mind tracing over the many questions she hadn't thought to ask then. "It would seem that it is indeed a small world no?" she'd quip, her customary rye smile flittering across her features.
Isen eyes the extended hand for a moment, then slowly reaches out to shake it, the tendons standing out beneath the runes, causing his hand to resemble some sort of exotic claw. "Hello, Portea." He turns back to Tenebrae, saying, "Whatever would we need her for? I don't think we have a capable crew within the Cabal, do we?"
"Too small..." Though her reply to Eyren was mumbled more to herself than anyone else. She noted the amicable greeting between the men with satisfaction, though Isen's words had her frowning. "Eternity wasn't limited to Cabal alone, though it's the clan's ship. Leo hired crew from anywhere, as long as they were able." Her lips thinned a moment, the vampiress in obvious discomfort with the topic. "Isen, I want to get Eternity ship-shape. I'd like you help me do that. But for now.." Portea and Eyren were given a sweep of gaze to include them, "I have to run." Turning on her heel, she'd take for the rope ladder, only the briefest pause to whisper to Isen, "And I don't want anyone but crew lolling around on these decks." Of course, Tene assumed Isen would agree to the task. But if he had any objections he'd be making them to the wind, as she was gone..