[SE] I Saw Three Ships

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

The Marauder was docked at Jack Tar Landing for the Deepfrost season with few plans to travel. This time of year was not kind to ships on the water. If The Marauder could fly, she would be more than happy to continue her pirating escapades, but the choppy waves didn't really give her an option. Instead, Thal and her crew had to spend the colder months docked like hibernating grizzlies, waiting for the weather to warm and allow them to begin their cycle of violence again.

Stepping up to the edge of the dock, she turned to look at the ship. The small frigate was built for speed, its sleek hull and large sails helping it fly across the water easily. Despite the artistry of its structure, the damage of the plummeting moon months before had taken a toll on it. Large sections of mismatched wood had served to patch the damages done by the falling debris, interrupting the beauty of the ship.

Thal frowned at the sad sight and decided to take advantage of the decorating mood that everyone seemed to be in. Stalking to the nearby market, she gathered a bundle of supplies, including a new can of black paint and small baubles. She hadn't treated her ship with proper TLC recently and a small amount of shame caused her to place a gentle hand on her hull. "Let's get you looking pretty for the new season." Grabbing a paintbrush, Thal got to work.

Thalassa

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Lena had avoided any notions of the tournament in Torchline; not her kind of scene, and instead opted for a day trip along the stretches of the Grounds’ port, hoping to either gain information, unfurl her nervous edges, or shop. Had anyone there heard of Sohalia’s exploits and disappearance? Had there been anything new to report? Perhaps at some point she’d track down Maea too, because initially all the Caretaker had wanted to do was hide – but given the freedom and liberty of her movements and motions, she opted to continue pretending as if nothing was amiss.

And while that was far from the truth, her noble and dignified features could hide multitudes of pretenses, and so it was with a calm demeanor, and a leashed Mittens, that she ventured from the skyport and towards the long stretch of dock around the Jack Tar Landing. She might have otherwise persisted onward, but her companion stopped and stared at a ship nearby, clearly being painted, and snagged with baubles. A festive occasion that she’d yet to participate in, given the way the seasons had been playing out.

She would’ve just waved and carried on, but Mittens opted to offer an ungodly screech, and make its way towards the shiny objects. “No,” she breathed in a calm, placating manner, but was yanked along anyway.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

Of the things on her Deepfrost bingo card, having an abominable snowball screeching past her head was not one of them. Its piercing cry had her wincing and clasping her hands over her ears. Oceanic excursions didn't usually include obnoxious noises or snow. "Hey!" Thal waved her hands to shoo the small creature away from the fragile baubles. "Those are mine! Leave them alone!" In the dramatic waving of her arms, her foot bumped the paint can at her face, tilting it precariously on the edge of the pier. Growling in frustration, she abandoned the baubles to snag the handle before it toppled off into the sea.

Thal shot a deadly glare at the snowball and threatened in a low voice, "I will kill you if you break any of those. I paid good money for them." As she spoke the words, she noticed that a leash was trailing away from the white bundle, leading to an exasperated woman. With an annoyed indication to the screeching animal, she asked, "Is this unpleasant creature yours?"

Thalassa

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

It was a fortunate thing that Lena hadn’t heard the threats layered upon her companion, because for the days she’d been having, those particular sentiments might have caused her to implode. Instead, she trailed after the snowball with graceful, long-limbed ease, with a dose of the frenetic panic settling in.

By the time she reached the beast, it had puffed itself up to three times its size, screaming at the top of its lungs. “Sorry!” She yelled immediately, snagging at the leash trailing from its collar. “Yes,” she winced, because they’d been working on this for so long and gods – she ensured the string was tight in her grasp before yanking Mittens back. It puffed and huffed and ceased the dramatic tantrum, long enough to blow a raspberry at the captain. “So sorry, again.” From there, she started a visible retreat, keeping the snowball close at hand while it gave a mulish glance back at the shiny baubles.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

Thal assessed the taller woman with scrutinizing eyes and watched her reel in the snowball, who obviously didn't want to comply. She seemed to barely be holding it together and based on the woman's exasperated sigh, this was a common issue. Thal's anger dissipated slightly in sympathy - before she noticed that the baubles were now strewn haphazardly around the railing of the ship's deck. With narrowed eyes, she looked back to the woman, who was now attempting a sneaky retreat. Pointing accusingly at the mess, she said, "Hey! What are you going to do about that? Do you know how long it took me to get those on right?"

In truth, it hadn't taken her as long as she made it sound, but with the crew enjoying themselves, Thal was the only one here. At this rate, if she had to go back and fix them, she wouldn't be able to finish decorating before the sun set. So the frustration in her own voice was as real as the exhaustion in her eyes.

With an angry grumble, she sat back on the pier to continue running the paintbrush across the wood, trying to hide the imperfections of the damaged sections.

Thalassa

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

The Caretaker was usually difficult to rattle, but she’d had a multitude of difficult days, and her patience was wearing on thin; in either exasperation, distaste, or whatever the moment called for. Summoning the last dregs of her compassion, tolerance, and forbearance, she turned back at the accusations – her eyes beginning to narrow, but her mind focused on upholding all those modicums of generosity. “While I doubt Mittens did any of that,” considering she’d snagged her companion before it could commit an act, “I can help you.” Out of kindness, exhaustion, or temperance; perhaps all three, she briefly loosened her hold on the little beast so she could begin picking up some of the baubles.

The snowball, of course, only provided aid through a heinous, spiteful screech in Thalassa’s direction.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

Thal wouldn't admit that she was relieved to hear the woman say she would help, but her shoulders visibly relaxed. That is until the screeching began anew. With a tense grimace, she glared at the snowball. "Mittens, was it? If I give you one bauble, will you stop screaming at me?" It was both a negotiation and a begging plea for silence as she offered up the small shiny orb. The surface glittered in the sunlight, casting a rainbow of colors across her hand.

Turning back to the painting, she grumbled something that may have resembled a thanks to the woman. She let the methodical paint strokes pull the tension from her shoulders and clear her mind. As she settled into a comfortable rhythm, similar to the rocking of the waves, the world seemed to fade away along with her anxieties. Unconsciously, a small hum started in the back of her throat. The lilting tune reminded her of light-hearted nights amongst the rowdy crew, laughing at embarrassing memories and inside jokes. A festive song for the festive season.

Thalassa

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Mittens held all the indifference in the world for the woman’s glares, but at the inquiry, its eyes narrowed, as if trying to pinpoint the deception, trickery, or deceit. It gave another furtive glance in Lena’s direction, to which the Caretaker couldn’t help but smile and hold back a little laugh. “It is willing to try,” for some sort of bargain; though it depended on the captain’s nature too – her companion didn’t seem to care for the bossy overtures. Thereafter, the snowball quickly snagged it in its mouth, and she could eventually hear it bobbing it about, and throwing it back and forth in upwards rotations.

Regardless, she didn’t mind if they struck a deal while she worked, picking over the shiny baubles that had scattered around. They were beautiful things, and she could see why the other wanted to keep them for décor and whatever other sanctity they provided. She didn’t hum, for she had nothing to match the sudden tune, but at least picking up pieces meant she was doing something these days, no matter how small or minimal.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all

Life is tough my darling, but so are you.

It was with exasperated relief that Thal returned to her work in peace without the screeching of the snowball. Her humming passed the time as each stroke of black paint covered the imperfections caused by the damage. It was quite ironic that Melita had helped her repair the ship and now another woman was helping her fix the image. They worked similarly, without talking or otherwise communicating. Although she didn't feel nearly as bull-headed with this one. It was more of a tense, almost companionable cooperation.

When her painting was done, Thal stepped back to admire the sleek black coat. The variation in wood was still noticeable up close despite the cohesive coloring. However, it seemed to give The Marauder some character and a small smile came to her face. A gentle hand was laid on the hull in quiet appreciation for the beauty and resilience of what she considered to be her home. Even when the world was literally falling around her, this ship had kept her safe.

Her offered bargain had been taken well, with one bauble bouncing in play around Mittens. It had been worth it. It was almost cute. The rest of the baubles helped to lighten the dark exterior in a more light-hearted manner and Thal looked to the woman. "Thank you." Her mouth had difficulty saying the words, but they were audible nonetheless. She wouldn't say that the woman hadn't needed to help or comment on the true depth of appreciation she felt. If they had left, Thal would have spent all day working alone, in complete silence. Her dark thoughts would have probably consumed her. Instead, the cycle had been broken before it started, with a screeching interruption.

Not sure how to thank the woman without appearing soft, Thal shoved out her hand in official greeting. "I'm Thalassa, Captain of this ship."

Thalassa