Black Water Cut With Ivory [Lekalis Hugo Volundr]

[rosallora]

[Volundr]

"We set out from port this morning, heading away from the Hamlet at full sail. I suspect tonight after the ceremony we'll know precisely where we're going." There's an acid that laces those words, a thinly veiled disgust that seeps over the man. He eyes the harpoon that Volundr takes, but when the man hitches it into place without much trouble, the bit of suspicion fades, leaving Jonah's eyes only slightly cloudy. "After that, I suspect it'll be a few day's sail towards the beast. There's been sightings, but all unique and a ways apart. The only thing we know about it is that it stays within a certain area - as far as we know. The sightings have been closer together than you'd think, and it gives hope to the expedition." He seems at ease with his words at least, and confident in them. 

His face twists slightly again. "That fool of a man onboard, disgracing the Captain... did you know him?"

--

[Prescott & Lekalis]

"A laudanum mixture," Hickory answers, breaking the thread on the edge of his tooth. "Looks like he needs more shallow stitching than you, but far more of them." He looks over the man, as if trying to gauge how many yards of cloth it might take to make him whole again.

"As far as the prosthetic, it's come in handy her an' again. Got a whole bunch of them. An' more, that I don't use." He throws a thumb over his shoulder to the wall and his desk. On the wall four arms hung - one with a pencil in a faux-hand, the one the man had been using when they arrived, poised to write again. Another was similar to what the Lord had described, a short sword clasped within its grip. But the carving was less intricate, and instead of the well-formed look of a hand gripped around a hilt, the blade itself was embedded straight into the wood with no appendage to speak of, blurring the line between man and weapon. Another still had a hook-eye, for reasons unknown. The last hanging was relatively plain - a hand, loose, without tool at all. And upon second glance, there was a bucket lashed up against the wall, and within it was many other limbs, sporting blade or other implements, all mussed together with straps of treated leather. Hooked blades, lengths of rope, different carvings of hands in different positions (one rather suggestive if one looked too closely), some abandoned and some polished. It seemed he was a man who valued variety.

"Have to be ready for anything," he says, mostly offhand. He dabs antiseptic onto Prescott's wounds, cleaning them efficiently. "This one'll be taken care of for a few hours, and he'll be glad for the rest. I'll daub you up with some after you've done your fair share, but it won't take you out long." Between the two of them, the job wouldn't take nearly as long. A grin creeps onto his features as he works. "Big show tonight, after all. Wouldn't want to miss it."

[EloHim]

/Volundr/
"Ceremony?"- Uh oh. Unless Captain was worshiping Njörðr - god of the Seas, that word sounded unpleasant...And the way it was said didnt spell daisies and sunshine either.
The question made him chuckle a little.
"Listen, mate...Jonah, right? Right. Jonah, I woke up on the cargo deck of this here vessel with with my head feeling as if at least two horses had their fun running all over it. I don't know ANYONE here."- he made accent on that word. Why the heck would he, considering that last evening was all but a blur in his head?- "...'sides you, Cap and Hickory. And I definetly dont know nor have any reason to know a man who would do such a stupid thing without a grain of reason."

[rosallora]

[Volundr]

Jonah shrugs at his reply, apparently appeased. "Whatever... I hope hope she lets something awful happen to him, if I'm honest. It'd be nice, to have a bit of a bloodshow. Then again, it happens what some might call too often, out at sea. Monsters, men... there is always something, above or below, or just beyond the horizon. Could always use the jangly, wrangly thing as a bit of chum, couldn't we?" He straightens his shoulders, heading to the main area of the belowdecks. "Keep your head on straight, Volundr. I doubt you won't see land again."

[Deleted]

Even though he wasn't paying that close attention to the idle conversation the two were in, it was hard to ignore his own name being said. The comment made him shoot a sharp irritated glare towards the nobleman. "Say somethin interesting for once and I'll pay attention." After making his own short response, Prescott went back to tuning the blue blood out. Flowery conversation was a chore to get through on the best of days and he didn't care much on winning any favors with the man other then getting their job done anyway.

Prescott pulled back the fabric he'd been using to help staunch his wound for Hickory to better examine. The movement disrupted what little clotting had happened as the small drip he had prior resumed albeit a bit slower this time around. Can't say he didn't enjoy the slightly uncomfortable sting of the antiseptic a little bit. It felt real. Tangible. At least compared to the words that he wasn't quite so sure were being spoken to him or his companion. The shift in tone in the sailor's voice as he talked about some kinda show was curious, but he only mustered a confused looked and a grunt in response.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

The Lordling hummed, and occasionally whistled a little as he helped Hickory pull Prescott back together. Though on Prescott's retort he clucked his tongue and cocked a brow at the burly mercenary,
"I will have you know: I am the most interesting man that ever was or will be." He flashed a far too self-aware and toothy smile at the man that looked closer to a proud kidlet than any Lord or mercenary. He chuckled then, and shrugged as he finished up his part of the mending, setting back to glance at the veritable and, admittedly, rather morbid display of many, many hands.

Lekalis gave a short but impressed whistle when he was sure Hickory saw where Lekalis' gaze was, deciding to save his sassy observations for later in lieu of the...
"... Big Show? You mean, bigger than the one that just happened?" He mused and scoffed, a motion that brought a wince of pain,
"Tch, well, how's that for interesting..." He made to stand up and give the two space as he dusted his hands off on his chaps, "... I do hope there's less blood-letting in this Big Show of yours... Believe it or not, despite my title, I prefer avoiding bloodshed when possible." He clucked his tongue and his cheeksome smile and manner faded some as he rubbed some sores and tension out of his joints and muscles.
It seemed this bloody Life was beginning to take its toll... Just as he'd made one himself. The wit of his mind amused him enough to bring a smile back to his person, but he kept his eyes shut and look somber as he sighed and kicked out some kinks in his knees.

[EloHim]

[Volundr]

Okay, that was totally creepy, strange and gods know what... He needed to know about what was going to happen this evening. Either Hickory or Cap'n gonna spill their guts about it, else he will steal the closes thing resembling a boat and get the fuck out. He had already seen what was objectively the worst of the cultists living on the mainland - and they were not even bloody human anymore. He needed not to see another representation of such madness, especially on the ship from which there was no possible escape.
He went to the top deck looking for the Captain, whom he still didn't know by name.(He honestly didn't know who was responsible for that mishap).
“Captain! Lemme pick your brain for a moment.” - he says, walking up to the woman, who obviously stood out of the generally male crew.-”I know me being a stowaway - even a useful one - doesn't give me much say in what’s happenin’ on your ship...but what in the Hel’s rotten tits is this “Ceremony” your crew's so creepy about? Not about to accept the answer “Wait’n’see”, mind you, since Jonah keeps his mouth shut on the subject.”
He tried to be polite at first but he was too worried to keep his language from going the way of the Ancestors. 

[rosallora]

[Volundr]

At the sight of one of the adventurers coming back, she had a bit of a drop happen in her stomach. Things were finally settling, all of the viscera cleared off-deck and the blood washed away. The stench of fish was going to linger in the air a bit longer, but soon the sea would sweep that away as well.

"Ceremony. They're talking about how we're going to direct ourselves towards the monster." She's quick, but direct. "We have an abomination onboard, and tonight is the quarter moon. He will transform, and be able to tell us where we're going. Getting a ways out into the water usually helps. His range is limited, but the creature has been hanging around this part of the coast for some time. It's drawn to it, as many things are."

[Prescott & Lekalis]

Hickory moves to work on Prescott, the little lord's bleeding looking better by the second. "Aye. No blood, no. Well sometimes, but it's only of a beast's own doing." He grins, all yellow teeth. "Listen it wouldn't be very fun of me to go tellin' of what'll happen. Just make sure that you're there. On deck, at night. Nowhere else better to be after a long day at sea, the air'll be cool and the stars'll be bright. All sorts of mad things happen out here. 'Specially before The Line." He gestures to one of his maps, a smooth, arcing line stretching across several of them. "All manner of horrors are here inside. Things no man should ever see, but we do. And I'm sure if you're living on the shores within it, you've seen them too." 

[EloHim]

[Volundr]
At this point viking starts to once again consider jumping overboard and getting back to Hamlet on his own. The whole affair smelled bad. He almost decides to promise Captain to gut the thing should it go spare on the "landlubbers". He wouldn't put it past the crew to play such a trick. He knew for himself that some men found twisted pleasure in watching others suffer some terrible fate.
"Okaaaaay. Who...or What is that "abomination"? I kinda get the part of "small bad thing being drawn to the bigger one" and all that...but how bad is the one you have on board?" - he carefully asks, thinking about how many wooden hands Hickory is able to carry in his own arsehole before dying. The question of existence of said ability was completely rhetorical for Vol by that point. The one-handed beiskaldi would get what's coming for him before the sun goes down.

[Deleted]

Prescott let off a tired sigh. Well, gotta take your blessings as you get them and despite his current prickly mood there was still something to be relieved about the energetic response. Even if the hunter didn't care to admit nor pay much attention to the actual words. He rubbed his brow some with his free hand, focusing more on the feeling of his wounds being tended to and how cold the tips of his own fingers felt against his skin. The sensation made him wish he was back on deck in the warmth of the sun.

As curious as he was about what Hickory seemed so excited about, he'll have to ask for the footnoted version later. The man's voice seemed more like background noise at the moment then anything. Something about beasts in the ocean tonight. It felt like he was trying to listen in on ghost stories being told in a language he had little grasp on. It felt pretty similar to when he first came to the mainland.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

As he idly thumbed his wrist, he fixed the medic with a skeptical look; he'd known sailors to have their tall tales but it seemed this crew lived and breathed with them. Though, admittedly, he supposed such ambiguous and ominous titles made sense for the Darkest Estate and its terrors... that ambiguity being one of the crucial means to his escape in the first place. Temporary as it was.
"No, no; I'm certain keeping secrets from your extra hired hands, meant to help you quell the monster in the waves, will drastically improve our odds of slaying the beast." Lekalis remarked with some glibness, though he gave a disarming shrug before seeing to gearing back up proper; retrieving both spear and trident, though forgoing a sheathe to hold them both against his person.

"If there's one thing I've learned is to put my whole-hearted trust in scary sounding rituals with men and women I don't know, in a location I've no means of escaping from." The Ex-Lord's sarcasm seemed to know no ends as he made to fasten his shirt tamely to his collar.
"Though, truth be told, I don't rightly like those men and women when they do keep said rituals close to the chest. However honeyed and pleasant those ventures turn out to be." He concluded gravely and rolled some inkish locks back behind his ear as he settled his fine red cloak back about his shoulders, making the bind fast and tight.

[rosallora]

[Volundr]

The captain laughs, genuinely, teeth glinting in the light of the sun. "Oh don't worry," she says. "It's harmless, until it's transformed, and we keep it under tight leash." She cocks her head, looking towards the horizon. "Soon enough. I'm ready to have this thing slain, get it out of the waters. It causes too much trouble to be worth staying around. Nearly gouged a hole in the ship with its crown last time we encountered it. I don't plan on letting it get away again."

[Prescott & Lekalis]

"Let me have my fun. Ain't often we get new blood." He makes quick work of the rest of the woundings, and when he was finished with his work, he looked rather self-satisfied. "Ain't gonna die anytime from these, that's for sure. Though next time I don't recommend gettin' in the way of some fish-man's spear. If'n you can help it." He settles back, putting the few bottles he had out into his bag. "Rest for now. The fun isn't gonna start until the sun's down, anyway. No use in waitin' up an' fightin' sleep just to miss out on the excitement." The box is set aside, and the arm disconnected, traded out for something with a writing utensil affixed to the end. "I know you're feelin' the effects of the medicine anyway. So just drift off. Tide's a waitin' for you." He settles down in his chair, a creak coming from its joints, and he turns his attention back to the parchment in front of him.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

"How wonderful..."
He spared a passing glance over Prescott and Hickory; paranoia constricted his throat and hardened his visage, but he turned towards the door quickly, shaking his head as he combed his fingers through his hair with a sigh,
"...I'm going up for some fresh air." He intoned tightly, though his pleasant chords failed to truly convey how disgruntled he was, his hasty steps and swoopsome demeanour certainly impressed more than a little discomfort.

His words were true, however, the claustrophobic and dank confines of the Ursine's guts were more than enough to have all measure of worries run through his head; the lack of defense should he be under assault, the incalculable probability of one of the ship hands being an assassin, much less a navy-man simply having a foul temprament with those of hauty airs... The Red Cloaked Lord had suffered worse for far less, he knew.

Thankfully, he'd a good instinct about him to retrace his path back up to the open deck to shiver out what lingering woes haunted him; the sea breeze doing enough to soothe.
He was quick to find a corner, beneath one of the stairs leading up to the wheel of the ship, where he did his best to make himself smallish.

[EloHim]

[Volundr]
"Welp... sounds good enough for me. No such thing as too careful these days... Thanks for being honest, Cap'n."- he nodded and got out of Captain's way. He'll stay. The ends justifies the means. The beast was his chance to reclaim something the viking abandoned long ago. Maybe he'll come back home with a trophy that will protect him from the blades of his kin.

He looks at the sea, to the horizon, breathing in the smell of sea-salt and old blood. The darkness of the night should come later, so he might steel himself yet. Whatever that Ceremony may hold for them, he must be ready to do kill the monster. Wherever it may be.

[rosallora]

Both of the men at the top can see the water laid out before them. A deep, muted blue, spun through with threads of whitewater, the smell of salt filling their noses, near therapeutic. After the months of the Estate's lingering malaise, the always-present smell of strange rot and foul water, the dead and dying, the combustible creations of plague doctors and crushed herb incenses of occultists and hellions, this was pure, and clean.

Lekalis was blessedly left alone, the man at the helm giving him only a sideways glance and settling into a comfortable silence. It seemed that he, being of taller stature and steadfast spirit, had no want for talking with landlubbers that knew so little of his world (the man's former position unknown to him, unfortunately). Volundr was rewarded with his presence with small tasks - the crew always found something to do, and he was requested by them. Prescott received his own form of recuperation, in fact it was perhaps the most traditional. The medicine found its effects lingering upon him, and so he was left in a similar silence, the moving of Hickory's pencil the only form of sound that came to his ears, aside from the occasional creak from the ship. And Hugo - sad Hugo. The silence that had engulfed him still surrounded, the strange blue lamplight flickering in the underbelly of the accursed prison cell that was the Ursa. And time passed for him with a slowness that he had not known prior. He felt his skin shift across his bones, his hair grew by the millimeter - or at least, that was how it so seemed.

The sky darkened. The smell of the ocean shifted slightly, some lower tone coming from the depths, something that told of algae and seaweed that had broken loose from its anchor.

Dinner was brought out - rather than gathered in one place it was doled out in bowls, things with inward curved lips to prevent the rocking of the ship to displace the contents. Some soup of weak estate-grown vegetables and freshly killed meats (A couple chickens, having been brought aboard, served their final purpose) was given to each in due time - even to the one belowdecks, imprisoned.

A wooden spoon taps against one of the metallic bars. A man snaps, "Get up" to the fool laying, motionless, on the boards of his cell. "You aren't dead yet, you clown."

[Kidney]

Suddenly, like a doll, Hugo's arms and hands flicked to life. Slapping palms on moist wood near his head, face still pressed tightly to the floor. Like a selection of flies tapping on a widow, Hugo let all of his fingers fall to the floor individually, carefully, purposefully. He animated then like a character from a story book. His life, at this moment, brought to its beginning all at once. A page turned, and the story unfolded. 


At the rap-a-tapping at the bars of the delightful cage, Hugo, the greatest bard to ever live, flung himself to his feet, going to great and amazing lengths to show off his acrobatic prowess! With a hop and a skip, he lept into the air, back-flipping and landing with ease before approaching the bars with due diligence towards the expected visitor. 

"I guess so. But what is death, really? More or less a rest, like the one I just had, herr jailor. Like the one I just had, yeah? One I just had." 

Images sprung up in the bard's head! What was he to do? What did the pretty lady want him to do on the top deck? He did not know, though he most certainly hoped he would put on a show!