[Log]

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Dorsal Observatory, Grace O'Malley [Paquin]
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While the observation deck is commonly used on military and corporate vessels as a briefing room or executive lounge, here, it's been converted into something far more welcoming. Three soft, overstuffed couches and several armchairs of emerald green have been gathered about a broad, low-lying table of burnished oak. An age-faded map of the oceans and lands of an unfamiliar planet are set deep below layers of varnish on the tabletop. Carpet in a myriad of oceanic blues in a wavelike pattern extends to every edge of the deck, covering the metal plating of the floor. To the aft of the deck, an ornately carved oak bar curves slightly to create a nook against the half-dome of blast-proof reinforced glass that comprises the ceiling and all but the fore wall, allowing a view of the rear hull of the ship and all that may lie beyond. Narrow stairs from below open up against the lone wall, which is covered in a lovingly painted mural. A regal looking woman with close cropped auburn hair stands defiantly proud at the prow of an ancient sailing vessel, and looking out over verdant, rocky shores in the distance. The bright summer sky of the painting seems to illuminate the whole of the room and its winds fill the illustrated sails.
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The observation deck is lit atmospherically, with both the internal lights and the ruddy afternoon sun on Paquin sending long shadows across the furniture and the floor. Outside the windows, beyond the curve of the Grace herself, the chaotic sprawl of the spaceport curls around, melting out into the colourful and rowdy streets of the city.

Saienne has walked a quiet path up to the observation deck wearing, of all things, a full length skirt. It appears to be good red taffeta and has been apliqued with tiny russet leaves. She stands near the windows, looking down on the activity below, humming something under her breath and tapping one booted foot. She appears to be waiting for someone.


Josephine hurries up the stairs a short time later, wearing her own, far more modest sort of dress. She also has what seems to be a paper flower stuck behind one ear. "Sai! Am I late? Were you waiting long? Did you find the right kind of music?" the little woman asks, all in one breath, clearly very happy at the prospect of a dancing-oriented event.

Tyr makes his way on up, in, well, what he always wears: his jeans, flannel shirt, and work boots. He doesn't have much variety, it seems. "Oh. Sai. You look so pretty. And you too, Jo. You look nice." He grins. "I haven't danced in a while."

Saienne looks entirely delighted that Josephine seems to have entered into the spirit of things. "Surely did," she says, with a crooked grin as she turns from the window. "Spent a good hour trawlin' the Cortex an' even managed to turn up a recordin' of Slof Galliard, which is a mighty fine dance - although perhaps a little complex for a first round, an' all." She looks up as Tyr steps up the stairs. "Tyr!" she exclaims. "Fine an' dandy, although we need to find ourselves another fellow to even us out some."

Josephine lifts her little com unit to her lips, out of habit as she announces the party to the entire ship, all the while grinning at Saienne and Tyr. Once that is accomplished, she grins. "Hopefully, that'll do," she says to them both, with a sigh, adjusting the yellow paper flower in her hair. "This is going to be so fun!"

Hatch comes out of nowhere.. okay, he comes walking up the stairs at a mildly sluggish pace. "Whats going on now?" asks the firsrt mate as he rubs at his slightly grease stained face."I caught about half of that on the comms."

Tyr chuckles a little bit and waves. "Hatch! Hatch! You can be our second fella." He waves at him, gesturing him into the dance circle. "And Sai, you should be my partner." He decides this, apparently. He is the decider.

Saienne glances in Hatch's direction as he mounts the stairs to the observation deck. "My," she says. "That was quick." She looks back to Josephine. "Well, that's four of us. Plenty of dances can be done with four." She moves, then, over to the bar and the stereo, her silk skirt swishing and her heeled boots tapping as she walks. It does not take her long to cue up the music, and soon an energetic reel can be heard on the speakers - quiet still, yet, as the details are resolved. She grins crookedly at Tyr. "Well an' good," she says to him, inclining her head in somewhat of a bow. She steps back towards the small group. "How about a round of Balance the Star to get us goin'?"

Josephine smiles adoringly to the man with grease stains on his face. "Hi there! We get to dance!" she informs him, joyfully. "And, Sai, I have no idea what Balance the Star is, but I'm enthusiastic about learning!" She twirls around in her not so twirly skirt, just for fun. Unfortunately, this makes her paper flower fall out from behind her ear, but it probably wasn't very practical for dancing, anyway, so she pays it no mind. "Saienne, O Wise Teacher, we await your instruction!"

Scratching at the top of his head Hatch wanders closer to the circle starting to get a grasp of whats going on in the least, he leans down to pick the paper flower spun from the ear of the woman wearing his ring, and stands to look upon it. "Hmm, and Sai in a skirt too.. this has been an intresting day. Okay, count me in."

"See?" says Tyr with a bit of a grin. "Oh, boy. I'm not really formally trained at any of this, you just go to the town dances and --" Tyr cuts off his babbling. "Well. I bet Sai will teach us something!"

"Don't you fret none," says Saienne to Tyr and Josephine. "This one's real simple," Her foot is tapping in time to the music. "An' I'll call it for you, an' all." She smiles fondly at Josephine. "That's the point, ain't it? These dances have patterns an' rhythmns an' anyone can dance them if the caller ain't half bad." She looks around the observation deck, then, looking for the most likely dancefloor, soon seizing on the space by the bar as the most appropriate. "Now," she says, evenly. "We need to gather ourselves in what's known as a Sicilian Circle - ain't got no idea why it's called that - which is essentially the four of us stood alternatin' boy an' girl all round in a circle." She turns her back on the bar, then, and looks up expectantly at the remaining three to take their places.

Josephine is actually quite an adept learner when it comes to dancing. And, for the record, Hatch isn't half bad either. The little cook is wide-eyed and listening as she does her part to create the circle as described. "We don't have to move the couches, or anything? For more space?"

"Guess not." Answers Hatch for the moment as he starts to untie his sweater from his belt, and well the tool and gunbelt that go atop the bar with it for the time being. The teeshirt under is, clean for once? Perhaps he didn't get to far into tinkering before he heard the call, that or Jo's been having a good influence on the man. He takes up a position where he thinks Sai would want him.

Tyr makes his way over to stand next to Sai, so it can be Sai-Tyr-Lu-Hatch. "Or are we supposed to be facing one another?" he asks, a frown crossing his face. He looks over at Sai as if he's afraid he did something wrong.

Saienne shakes her head in response to Josephine. "No, this one stays nice an' tight into the circle, so I reckon we'll be just fine." She nods to Tyr as he steps into line. "Just curve round a little so you're opposite Hatch - we should be pointed like a diamond." She then appraises the others' positioning carefully and nods, smiling a lop-sided smile. "We'll walk it through, then, if y'all are ready?" She presses a button on the remote looped into her belt and the music skips on from a reel to a lively jig. "It goes somethin' like this," she says, lifting up her right hand and standing side on to the circle. "Place your right hands near mine an' face the back of the person next to you. So Tyr, you be lookin' at Josephine's back, Josephine at Hatch's, Hatch at mine, an' me at yours, Tyr." The four of them should now be standing in a circle right arms outstretched and right hands together in the circle's centre. "An' then, on the beat, we draw in -" she takes a side step towards the centre of the circle "- an' out again, an' dance half the way round."

Josephine can actually be calm and attentive when she's learning something, and that's what she's focusing on doing now, listening to Sai's instructions and studying the moves so she won't have to think so much when they really get into it. Of course, she's still smiling from ear to ear, because, as everyone knows, Josephine just loves to dance..and this is a whole new kind of dancing for her.

Hatch slips his hands into his pockets for a time, listening to what Sai has to say with a look of concentration. He's not a terrible dancer but has nowhere near the fluid grace Jo exibits, Tyr and Sai are unknowns to him at this point but he's still going to give things ago and try and enjoy himself.

Tyr screws his brow all up when he hears the call. He looks like he's concentrating /really/ hard: Don't mess up, don't mess up, don't mess up. Thinky-face. He holds out his hand, waiting for the music to start.

"An' after that, we about turn an' do the same thing the other way round." And she does so, spinning on her booted heel so that she would now be facing Hatch's back if he had turned also on the beat. She has switched arms, also, and it is her left arm that points, palm up, to the centre of the circle. She waits for the others to turn also. "An' then skip-dance half the circle round again, so we're back where we started." She does so, smiling encouragingly. "Next, turn to the fellow who ain't your partner - Josephine to Tyr an' me to Hatch, that'll be - an' do-si-do on the right hand until you're standin' on the other side, an' then turn to your partner an' do the same over again." She grins reassuringly. "Clear as mud?"

Josephine laughs as she practices a do-si-do with whomever seems unstartled and willing. "That's a lovely word! Tyr, we get to do-si-do!" she proclaims, happily, picking up the instructions and the steps fairly quickly. "And with Hatch too! Sai, why is it called a do-si-do?"

Hatch thinks he's getting it, but manages to go quite the wrong way in a couple of these steps. "Hoi, what.. wait, oh the other, yeah." He says as he dodges back the other way to get it right, laughing a bit as he does so. "What it called?"

Tyr shakes his head as he moves around with Josephine on her practice lap as well. "I think I got it," says Tyr, pushing a smile out to the fore. "But I guess we're only gonna see when we go and do it, right?"

"Just what I was hopin' to hear," Sai says with a smile to Tyr, and she turns the volume up. The jig, infectious and causing toe-tapping for at least one person in the troupe, livens up somewhat. "It's called Balance the Star, Hatch, an' it always was one of my favourites." To Josephine, Sai says: "Some old Earth language, I expect. My Aunt Loretta always said it meant back-to-back, on account of never actually facin' your partner in a do-si-do, but I ain't sure on the truth of that." She grins crookedly. "Aunt Lottie said a lot of things, ain't it so?" There is a pause, and she taps her foot in time to the tune, waiting for the starting bar. "Here we go," Saienne says, raising her voice, "To balance out the star! One, Two, Three, Four..." And she starts by skipping the circle one way, then the other, calling out and nodding when people get the right step and grinning broadly when they do not - herself included. For the do-si-do'ing she whirls around Hatch and then around Tyr, red skirt swirling wildly.

Josephine isn't terribly worried about perfection, especially with the confused looking men about, but she does have a blast even with the skipping part alone..and the rest is just jolly embellishment! She tries her best to imitate the way Saienne does things, more or less, beaming at every who looks her way. "This music is /fantasic/!" she declares.

Our dear first mate, once he gains a little more confidence in knowing the steps starts to enjoy himself. Oh yes he screws some of them right up.. but that seems not to bother him in the least as he moves about the circle, turning as called, and at last he manages to get down this concept of do-se-do. He's most certinaly glad he took off his sweater too boot, but thats another story.

Tyr laughs and moves around with Sai and Jo. While he doesn't quite have it entirely, at least he seems to loosen up a bit by the second go-around. He calls out to Sai, "Look at your skirts go, Sai!"

The way Saienne does things is to fling herself energetically around the dance in time to the music, whooping and hollering and calling out the steps when they need calling. "Ain't it just!" crows Saienne back to Josephine as they come to the end of their first round - and she is a little breathless, it must be confessed. "Doin' fantastic, Hatch!" She calls as she swirls her skirt in Tyr's direction, looking a million times more feminine now than... well... than she ever has while she's been aboard the Grace. Grinning, Sai takes a step back out of the circle and beams back round at the small gathering. "Well, now. That was just fine! Ready to run it to the end of the tune? Just keep goin' after the last do-si-do back into the half-circle. Ain't no bother if it gets messy - just keep goin' an' don't fall over!"

Josephine eyes Saienne's swirling skirt a bit enviously, but hers will have to do. With her face aglow with the excitement of this new experience, she hops up and down a few times, even during the small pause. "Yes, let's!" she encourages, grinning to everyone present. "This is some good exercise, isn't it!?"

With all the noise up here already, it probably makes no difference whatsoever as to just how loud or quiet Aradia's footsteps are as she comes up the stairs. Stopping at the top, she turns to lean in against the railing, watching the festivities in silence as she works at rubbing grease off her hands with an old rag, already covered in at least as much grease as she's trying to remove.

Hatch wears a very discreet smile, but it is rare the man truely beams. "I'm up for it Sai, must say this is a side of you I never expected." The first mate commments and slips back into position, tapping one foot to the rythem that is. "Well I think we can do it up then as long as I don't step on anyone."

"Well," says Saienne in reply to Hatch, "Enjoyin' a good dance ain't much of a dark secret, so I reckon y'all are safe yet." She grins and taps her foot again to count in the start of the dance. "An'... One, two, three, four!" On which count she launches back into Balance the Star, calling out and swirling and turning round Tyr and Hatch with abandon. As the tune winds itself down, the dance comes to a natural end after three or four rounds, and Sai laughs a little, pausing for breath, before she sees Aradia at the top of the stairs. "Captain," she says, still breathless. "You comin' to join us? I don't mind steppin' out an' callin' if you want to take my place."

Tyr laughs and takes a few deep breaths when the dance comes to a close. "Boy, Sai, you wore me right on out." He shakes his head at her, but has a smile all over his face nonetheless. "What's next?"

Josephine looks a little dizzy, but that could just be her happy expression. She uses Hatch as a leaning post for a moment as she catches her own breath. "Whew! Ara! Hi! I don't mind..having a bit..of a break..myself..if you want to trade places. Sai looks like she could go on for years without a break..." The little cook seems impressed. Tired, too.

Quirking a smile as Saienne looks over and addresses her, Aradia just shakes her head and says, "No, you lot go on," as she continues rubbing at the grease on her hands. "Just popped up to see what all that stomping was I could hear downstairs," she explains with a chuckle, waving Jo off as she repeats, "No, s'fine."

Hatch holds Jo gently in his arms as the first dance comes to a close, "Getting a little worn down myself, and all that. Perhaps just one more?" He smiles slowly, breaking into a very warm grin.. "I won't get into skirts though, I don't have the legs for it."

The music has slipped from the energetic jig into a more mournful-sounding reel, all violins and flutes, and a cue for Sai to take her feet off the dancefloor and aim for the bar - and a fine tune for a couple to sway along to should they feel so inclined. "Hope we weren't causin' too much noise," she says, "Or shakin' too much loose." She leans back against the bar and regards the four of them. "Reckon we could squeeze in a few rounds of Muffin Man Jig, in honour of our very favourite blueberry muffin baker."

Tyr laughs softly at that and shakes his head. "Muffin Man Jig?" he asks. "I don't know that, but then again, they are pretty tasty muffins that we got."

"Muffins!" Josephine exclaims merrily, hearing that key word of joy, even though she's not even sure what exactly Saienne is talking about. And the small woman doesn't look like she's immediately inclined to be dancing with Hatch (or anyone else), more like..just resting against him for the time being and smiling at the people around her, whom she clearly likes very much.

"Entirely too much noise," Aradia says sternly to Saienne as she steps out from the railing she's leaning against and follows the woman over to the bar. Dropping the rag down on it, she circles around behind it as she says, "You're leavin' Tyr standing out there all on his own, Sai. Go on 'fore he starts feeling silly. I'll get y'all a drink if you tell me what you want."

"I don't feel silly," says Tyr. Although it's like the Uncertainty Principle of Tyrs or something. But saying he doesn't feel silly, he suddenly feels quite silly indeed.

"Muffin Man Jig," affirms Saienne, with a nod. "Just as lively as Balance the Star, but a little more complex. Works best with larger groups, but it's a nifty little dance for four all the same." She smiles lop-sidedly at Aradia and, nodding, says: "Right you are, then." She steps back towards the dancefloor, her breath caught, and starts to describe the dance - more right-handed and left-handed stars, but no do-se-dos and a couple of gallops and arches instead. She steps out some of the steps, gesturing to where people should be standing and which partners they should be dancing with, and then turns back to Aradia. "You sure you don't want in, Captain?"

Josephine listens, wide-eyed, drawn away from Hatch in order to experience these new steps and the prospect of a new dance. She does glance at Aradia again as well, clearly willing to give up her place in a moment, if Aradia wanted to have a go at it. "Anything with muffin in the name can't be half bad," she announces, but mostly to herself.

"I'm positive," Aradia says to Saienne with a smile as she unscrews the cap of the scotch bottle in hand, glancing over toward where the other four are gathered standing around in the middle with some music playing. Filling a glass, she recaps the bottle and leans in against the bar she's behind, gulping down a mouthful of scotch before she retrieves her rag and returns to rubbing grease off her hands.

Tyr laughs softly and steps up with his new partner, well, old partner, Sai, and then waits for the dance to kick on off. "I'm all ready if everyone else is," he comments, waiting.

"Ready, are we?" Saienne asks the three who have elected to dance with her. The music shifts seamlessly from the reel to another jig, heavy - and slightly daft, if must be said - with the sound of an acordian. "Oh three - one an' two an' three!" And she's off again, calling the steps as she dances them wildly, skirts swirling, heels tapping and cheeks flushing. She seizes Tyr by the hands and pulls him round in time to the jig until... half way through the round her PDA starts to burble its familiar tone and she swings to a half. "Good gorram," she murmurs, "Ain't never a private time, is there?" She looks at Tyr in apology. "You mind if I take this? Don't doubt it'll be important an' I'll regret it if I miss it." Already she has let go of his hands and is reaching into a pocket for the battered silvery thing.

Josephine vastly enjoys the brief jig herself, in her inexperienced sort of way, pulling Hatch along with her with cheerfully energetic glee, until the moment is broken by the sad call of Saienne's PDA. "Oh.." the woman says, looking disappointed as their caller is drawn away and there isn't much to do but stop dancing for a time, which isn't really a bad thing, in the end, because Josephine's just about out of breath. She twirls her way over to a couch where she collapses in a huff. "Thirsty.." she whispers hoarsely, sounding as if she's been left out in the desert for days. Of course, she's dramatising.

Maxwell makes his way up the stairs, lookng rather dapper and suprisingly well-groomed for a married man. He peeps about the room for a moment, and as the music strikes up again his nose wrinkles up as if he smells something unbelieveably foul. "There's nothing wrong with an accordion played /properly,/ mind you... but what hack is doing such obscene things to music?"

Tyr turns his head slightly and looks over. "I don't think I know him," murmurs Tyr softly, to Aradia, waving at Sai to take her call. "Go, go, it was fun." He flashes a bright smile, and then waits.

Hands as clean as they're going to get without a good scrubbing, Aradia looks like the working half of a married couple as she drops the rag back down onto the counter and says to Josephine, "I offered drinks 'n no one took me up on it," before she shrugs and gulps down another mouthful of scotch. As Max comes up the stairs, she shifts her gaze and says, "Welcome home, again. Sorry. No bunting or streamers so you'll once again just have to settle for this."

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[Desc] Aunt Lottie's fabulous hat and dress

Eyes of a smudgy brown rimmed with dark eyeliner and webbed with fine crowsfeet; short black hair cropped close in to her skull; skin a deep and luxurious coffee-brown lined and worn by middle age: Saienne is a woman of earth and autumn tones and she is dressed accordingly.

She wears a long dark dress, the skirt falling full to the ground from a high cinched waistline, flaring out very slightly from the knee to end in a swirl of understated silken flounces. The gown is made from a very fine moire taffeta, yarn-dyed so that it is stiff enough to hold its shape well. The skirt has been appliqued with small leaves cut from a lighter ruby cloth, and swirls and whorls of gold thread have been embroidered as vines to connect them all. The underlying dress is a colour somewhere between garnet and burgundy, and it changes along with the light. The upper part of the gown is empire waisted, gathering in a claret coloured front bodice, organza beaded in a delicate pattern of glinting red gems, to a high collar and a button back
closure. The sleeves on the bodice are very slightly poufed and extend to just below the elbow.

Atop her head, balanced at a slightly rakish tilt, is a wide-brimmed hat. It is quite a departure from her more typical headgear, although it does sport a trio of crimson feathers. These feathers, however, are elegant and luxurious and lilt gracefully as she takes each step. They are fastened to the hat with a corsage of velvet and brocade flowers sparkling with delicate damask beads.

Saienne, standing tall, is around five foot six in height - but her heeled boots lend her a couple of extra inches at present. She is compactly built without being stocky, and her hands are slender and thin, a dark chocolate brown and calloused - with a band of plain silver on a finger of her right hand. She is a self-assured woman of perhaps thirty-eight or forty years of age, solid and habitually with a expression of serious determination. She carries a small cherry red clutch purse and an unfussy russet parasol.
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[Log] Commons chatter

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Crew Commons, Grace O'Malley [Saint Albans]
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Finishing off the pancakes on her plate from where she sits on the couch with a blanket over her legs, feet up on the coffee table, Aradia licks the syrup from her fingers, dumping the plate on the table. "I should go shower," she says, even as she's turning to lie down, stretching out along the length of the couch on her back again, pulling the blanket up over her.

Despite the crowd and the lights being turned up and all the noise and what not else, Aradia manages to fall back asleep again exactly where and how she was found much earlier this morning.


"I guess she doesn't have any pants," says Tyr, looking after Aradia as she makes her way on out from the crew commons, furrowing his brow. "Well, later Cap'n!" he calls down the hall after her.

Hatch comes wandering out of the forward hall rubbing his hands along the pantlegs of his jeans, having had to step out for a moment after making up breakfast. "Tyr you go through standard training and all that, know where all the exits are, what to do in case we run out of booze all those emergency situations?" He asks with a hint of a grin.

A long pause as Tyr thinks. "Well, I sort of walked around the ship once or twice, if that counts," he says, squinting. His tone is hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he didn't do something he was supposed to.

Hatch waves a hand as he comes around to lean upon the counter behind the still warm food, and goes after his now rather cold mug of coffee. "Eh don't worry about it. We'll get around to training here sooner or later, as long as you know the basics.. escape measures and the like. Can keep a semi cool head, your good."

Saienne steps into the commons from her her quarters located along the ship's port side. She is carrying with her, on a small bamboo tray, a delicate blue teapot and an assortment of other tea-related paraphenalia, and she is dressed warmly - although without her gloves, heavy coat or the mishapen furry hat she sometimes wears on the cooler worlds. She slips past Hatch and into the galley, setting the tray down on the counter near the sink. "This up for grabs an' all?" she asks Hatch, dispensing with greetings and pointing with her eyes at the food on the countertop. "Or are we savin' it for somesuch?"

"Oh, hello, Saienne," says Tyr, sitting up when she comes on in. "It's real good to see you again and stuff." He flashes a smile. "And sounds good, Hatch. I'll just keep that in mind and, uh, keep my cool!"

William entering in slowly with his cup in his hand and twirling it around his right pointer finger. As though he was on a mission for something. Not really paying much attention to anyone in the commons he makes his way over to the counter and the coffee pot. Hoping to find something in it still.

"Ups for grabs for everybody." Hatch responds assuming she's speaking about the breakfast. He takes his coffee mug and finds himself a spot to sit upon the sofa, not far from Ara's legs though he lifs them to sit down if she's in the way. He seems pretty satisfied with the morning so far, smiles a bit. "Morning Saienne, how'd you sleep?" He asks once he makes it down to a comfortable position.

Saienne tips two fingers to her brow in a lazy salute aimed in Tyr's direction. "Mornin'," she says in a deep drawl of an accent, smiling her lop-sided smile at the younger man. "Settlin' in all nice an' easy like?" She asks. At Hatch's answer, Sai holds off on washing her tea things for long enough to find a plate - and move out of William's way as he makes a beeline for the coffee urn - and start to pile pancakes onto it. "Marvellous," she says, her attention on the food. At Hatch's question, she turns her crooked grin on him. "Like a babe in arms, as they say, an' thank you for askin'."

William giving the woman a quick nod as she moved out of his way as he reaches for a empty pot. Picking it up anyways and tipping it upside down to verify that /it/ was empty. With a frown and then looking over the crowd briefly. Then walking over to the sink and filling it with water and beginning the process of making coffee silenty.

Tyr grins a little bit and raises up a fork to her in greeting. But he then goes back to his pancakes, working them to finish them on off. "So have you been out on the planet, Saienne?" he wonders. "I ain't ever been on a place all cold and icy like that -- hi, new person!" This is to William.

Hatch settles himself back against the cushions of the sofa, "We came out to albains a couple months back for a training exersise.. survival trip, and a bit of counter terrorism. Then, that was when we were running the apollo."

Saienne shakes her head in response to Tyr's question. "Not this trip," she says, cheerfully, as she roots around in a drawer for a fork. "But I've zipped around the 'Verse plenty before an' Saint Albans is a fine place for doin' business - dependin' on the nature of the business, of course. Plenty of folk with cash to spare an' the right kind of goods needin' shiftin'." She grins crookedly - and triumphantly as she holds up a shiny fork. "An' you ain't wrong - it's gorram freezin'. Just make sure you dress for it if you're goin' to venture dirtside." A pause, and she sets to on the pancakes. "Or mayhap iceside'd be more appropriate." She munches. "Good pancakes," she announces, and then Hatch's comment has her intrigued. She turns to him. "Survival an' counter terrorism," she repeats, smiling faintly. "Is that so?" A pause. "Mind, as I understand it, the Apollo surely was an impressive ship - in all manner of ways."

"Counter -- terrorism?" The concept seems vaguely familiar to Tyr, but not quite so much that he can totally wrap his brain around it. "What's a cargo haulin' crew doin' somethin' like that all for?" He sounds just, well, /puzzled/.

Hatch lowers his mug of coffee from his lips as a brow creeps up, "I often forget that not everyone here was on board the apollo, she was a big ol boat of a passenger liner hired out by a bunch of rich folk. So we had pretty much everything from companions, to people squeezing out enough to make a trip and see what the other half lived like. So chances were now and again things were gonna get dicely, we may crash.. we wanted to be ready for anything. So, we trained." He shrugs and raises his mug in salute as he falls quiet again.

"Well," says Saienne, evenly, "I reckon that's a good thing, if you don't always remember we weren't with you on the Apollo. Makes me feel somewhat assured that we're fittin' in, an' all." She grins, and munches more on her pancakes. Once she has finished - and that is fairly quickly - she adds the plate to her pile of washing up. "Any more needs doin'?" she asks Tyr and Hatch.

"Aw, gee, I dunno," says Tyr with a shake of his head. "You know how it is, Saienne. I just do what they tell me." He winks, a bit more comfortable at this point, taking another bite of pancake.

"Can't really think of a thing we have to do on this rock aside from keep up standard maintenence, wait for this wedding?" Hatch says as he scoots down a little on the sofa stealing a bit of blanket from the captain, and a pillow from the far side of the sofa to tuck behind his head as he sits there. "Pretty relaxing over all."

"As you wish it," Sai says, evenly, starting to run the tap to partially fill the sink. "But I'll leave the water in if you ain't got no objections, an' y'all can use it at your leisure." A pause. "Else I'll have someone or other yammerin' at me for wastin' it, an' I can't say as I would disagree with them, neither." Saienne grins and turns again to Hatch. "That sounds sweet enough to my ears - I always did like a good weddin' party." She turns the tap off and begins to roll her sleeves up to the elbow. "Although I might take a wander round an' see if I can't pick myself up some business anyhow. Might as well make a penny or two if we're able, ain't it so?" Sleeves properly rolled up and secured she dips her long-fingered hands into the warm water.

Aradia, who didn't leave the commons and is passed out sleeping on one of the couches with a blanket over her, stirs again after a time, stretching out and yawning before she turns onto her side, rubbing her eyes with one hand and blinking them open to peer blearily toward the various voices around her. Putting faces to each of them, she grunts something akin to a greeting and then closes her eyes again.

"Penny?" wonders Tyr, his eyes curious. He seems like he could use some pennies, perhaps. "How is it you do that sort of thing, Sai?" he asks, interested.

Hatch settles himself in, stretching a arm across the back of the sofa. "Don't get us in to much trouble Sai." Is the only real reply the man offers as he tips his head into the pillow and manages to look thuroughly lazy.

Going to stretch out again, Aradia shoves Hatch in the thigh with her foot before she grumbles something and turns to lie on her back again, pulling her knees up a little under the blanket and looking down to the other end of the couch. "Couldn't you at least got yer own blanket?" she asks with a frown.

Saienne looks up from being elbow deep in the washing up, and peers across at Tyr. "Hmm?" she says, to his question. "How is it I do what? Pick up business?" She shrugs, smiling crookedly at the stiring figure on the sofa. "It's part of my employment arrangement, I reckon," she says. "Food an' lodgings like the rest of you, an' in return the Grace benefits from my not insubstantial services as general dogsbody - an' a cut of whatever business I transact while roamin' the 'Verse aboard her." She has started now to stack the clean dishes into an improbable tower on the draining board. "Trouble?" she asks, in a tone that only just manages to suggest that she has never, in her life, known trouble. "Oh Hatch, on those rarer than rare occasions I do find myself in trouble, I usually manage to restrict it to my own vicinity." A pause, and a more genuine smile. "But I promise I'll take care. Makin' any kind of enemy on Saint Albans ain't usually a sensible thing to do."

Having wandered off some time before, Josephine arrives again with a fresh stack of clean dish towels and cloth napkins. She was humming to herself before she entered the room, but, once here, she looks around at everyone and smiles. "Having a bit of a cozy day, are we? How is everyone today? Are there any pancakes left for me?"

"Oh," says Tyr with a nod of his head. He wrings his hands a bit. "Gotcha. Gotcha." He clears his throat. "Just if we're goin' to a wedding, I don't have anything particularly fancy to wear is all. So. S'all."

"That would require effort and you know it." Hatch responds to Ara as she kicks into him a bit, he grins more then anything else as she gets herself comfortable and does give up his bit of the blanket he's stolen away. "Planning to take anyone with you Sai, oooh hey Jo." Hatch for the most part remains nicely in place, having a rare utterly lazy moment.

Turning her gaze over toward the galley, Aradia fixes her gaze on Saienne, awake those few moments more now that she can actually focus. "Speakin' of shopping for somethin' fancy to wear, did you get that dress?" she asks the woman with a quirk of her brow.

Saienne shrugs a response to Hatch as she adds the final spoon to her draining board tower. She shakes the water off her hands into the water left in the sink and says quietly. "Ain't thought on it yet, Hatch, to be straight an' true." A pause, and she dries the remaining moisture off onto her trousers. "Ain't even looked on my PDA to see what's on offer - or who it is offerin' it." She smiles. "But any folk wantin' a walk in the snow are welcome to join me." She turns around and leans on the galley the better to see Aradia. "Stop your frettin', Captain. I got me somethin'... suitable." She looks over at Josephine. "An' no, it ain't orange. An' don't you go scarrin' poor Tyr here neither. He don't look the citrusy kind neither."

"Oooh hey Hatch," Josephine replies, in turn, heading over to the galley to put away her pile of clean stuff. She eyes the veritable buffet set upon the counter, or, rather, what's left of it, since presumably people have been eating. "Are we having many hungry guests?" she wonders, but mostly to herself since everyone seems to be rather involved in their own conversations. "Oh, Sai," the woman sighs, "Why are you troubling yourself with the dishes? You know I don't mind doing them. And, what hey.. do I look like I'm the sort of person who would go around scaring people?" she asks, offering her most endearing smile. "I'm thinking he would look good in blue, anyway. Bring out those brilliant eyes of his." She winks to Tyr and goes about finding herself a clean plate.

Tyr ducks his head down at what he must be taking as a compliment from Jo. "Oh, hey, Jo. You're goin' -- well. Thanks, I guess," he murmurs, keeping an eye on his work boots. Red! Blush! Red!

"Hunny you trying to make me jealous again?" Hatch teases as he start to stretch and considers rousing himself again, though poking at Araa wee bit. "If you'd stop twitching about I could get comfortable too." Having lodged his protest he drags another blanket over to toss atop the woman before getting to his feet and stretching out his back for the second time, "Ohhh hell, well he does have pretty eyes... what do you think Sai?"

Stumbling his way out of the front of the ship where quarters are stashed at comes Bishop. The pilot is wrapped up heavily in a thick blanket that he has pulled tight aroudn himself, a handkerchief in well, hand that is lifted up to his nose. "Goo... goood... ACHHOOOOO!!!" The very loud sneeze rips out of Bishop's nose and causes his body to shudder violently with it's force. "Ugh." He blows his nose and manages a small smile. "Good morning."

"Well that'll be a first," Aradia says dryly, "A man tellin' me to lay still," before she rolls her eyes, reclaiming the end of the couch as Hatch gets back out and stretching her legs out. Okay, so she's not that tall but she makes a damn good attempt at taking up as much of the couch as she can. Quirking a brow at the sneeze, Aradia turns her head and looks toward Bishop as she says, "I'm goin' to quarantine you if you ain't gone to see Lu yet."

"I ain't troublin' myself none," replies Saienne to Josephine, good-naturedly. "I just ain't able to avoid tidyin' up after myself." A pause, and a smile. "An' I do agree about the blue, but a warm blue, I reckon. None of your icy cold blues - got enough of them just lookin' out the window." She turns cool brown eyes towards Hatch - then a glance to Tyr - then back to Hatch. "Pretty eyes," she agrees, solemnly. Bishop's sneeze causes her to jump visibly, and she glares at him - a glare that softens only when she sees that he is rather sick. "Good gorram, man," she mutters. "Ain't you got somethin' more productive to do than givin' us all heart attacks?"

Tyr frowns a little bit. "Well, if Lu ain't around, I can always take a look at him," suggests Tyr, and, really, anything to get conversation away from his blue eyes and the niceness of his blue eyes.

Josephine seems mildly amused as she watches Hatch for a moment. She seems about to make some kind of witty retort but then she is startled by Bishop's sneeze. Which provides an opportunity in itself. "Oh! Bless you! You poor dear.. You've caught The Cold. I knew we shouldn't have shared that passionate moment in the engine room, but...oh, it's too late now. You sit down, keep yourself wrapped up nice and warm, and I'll fix you a plate of breakfast. Anyone else want seconds, while I'm at it?" Anything to avoid actually sitting down and having breakfast herself.

Hatch stops what he's doing and just stares at Bishop for a full minute, his expression is terribly hard to read.

"No Bekfass." Bishop snivels towards Josephine, "Just Tea." He whispers in a very meek tone. His eyes look over towards Aradia then. "I don't like lucinda. She pokes me with sharp things and then... pokes me with more sharp things."

Her lips twitching with a faint smirk, Aradia glances toward Josephine and then to Bishop as she says, "and here you were tellin' me it was Hatch you were cuddlin' with that got you sick." Looking from him to Tyr and then back to Bishop as she says, "Tyr it is then. You got no one to blame but yourself for gettin' poked and prodded by Tyr instead o' Lu."

Tyr looks over at Jo when she mentions a passionate moment in the engine room, and quirks his brow, but then nods his head. "Bet it's somethin' even I could figger out," he says. "But it could just be the sniffles and all he needs is rest."

"Takin' your life in your hands, gettin' close to Bishop," says Saienne, somewhat darkly - and staying resolutely behind the counter in the galley, which is about as far from the germs as she can get wihout leaving the Commons altogether. She pulls out her tarnished silver PDA from a pocket and taps the thing on. Its blue screen lets out an eerie blue glow that illuminates her face as she peers down into it.

Josephine has a small little smile as she goes about preparing a simple mug of tea (with lemon and honey) for Bishop. "I reckon I gave it to them both, Captain," she says, casually, "Unless they've been kissing each other behind my back, which would be an interesting twist. Sit, Bishop," the little woman instructs, as she brings over his tea. "Now, I don't make this nearly as well as Saienne, but I don't imagine you can taste much of anything, in your state. So just..breathe in the steam and drink it while its hot. I'll make you some chicken soup later." She doesn't seem afraid of his cold. Very little can get in the way of Josephine taking care of someone she cares about.

The big first mate remains quiet, but slowly dips his chin and folds his arms across his chest. With a slow puff of breath he takes a single step forward toward Bishop, "Hope that tea's worth it mate." He then turns and walks into the kitchen to start cleaning up the remains of breakfast, "Anyone else want some before I pack all this away?"

Tyr makes his way over to Bishop, going to sit down next to him or kneel in front of him if Bishop will allow. "Mind if I touch a little and try to figure out what's goin' on with you?" he asks, frowning.

Bishop tilts his head at Hatch, frowning a bit before meandering his way towards the nearest chair to settle down into as instructed. "It's tea... I er... am not sure if it would be worth much, maybe a few bits at most?" He asks tilting his head, obviously confused at the tones directed at him.

With a roll of her eyes, Aradia shifts the pillow under her head and then tucks her arms under it as she looks to the First Mate and says, "If you start thumpin' your chest I'm going to lock you in a cage, Hatch." Shifting her gaze to Tyr, she says, "We've seen enough o' Bishop without his pants. If you're going to be proddin' him, maybe you should do it down in the Med Bay and then you can charge people for entrance to the show."

Saienne taps away on her PDA, the little silver thing letting off chirrups and burbles as she navigates the unquantifiable space of the Cortex with it. Her expression draws itself quickly into a frown, crowsfeet wrinkling around her eyes and along her brow. She leans with one elbow on the galley counter, bent over at her waist, and shifts sideways as Hatch comes in to tidy up breakfast. Bishop's response to Hatch causes her to look up once, and her frown clears as she fixes cool dark eyes on the sick pilot - but she says nothing, quickly becoming distracted again by her the sounds her PDA is making.

"Let him drink his tea first, yeah?" Josephine asks of Tyr softly and with a bit of a smile, before she hops back over to the galley. "Hatch, wait! I didn't have anything to eat yet!" she complains, quickly reclaiming her empty plate and picking up some modest remnants of breakfast, deftly dodging around him as he starts to tidy up.

Hatch's shoulders are shaking at the counter, in a couple seconds it becomes rather evident he's laughing as he turns around to wipe tears from his face. "I'm sorry, that was really low of me. Yeah, sorry Jo, I'll leave it out till your done.. sorry Bishop, forgive me man. It, was just there you know. You need any help, that looks like the same crap I just got over too."

Tyr frowns and then nods his head. "All right. Drink the tea. And then we'll take a look at you, Bishop. But no more dallying after that. I gotta earn my keep, you know."

Bishop looks up at Hatch for a moment and sips his tea. "There's an old story about a turtle and a rabbit. Something about slow and steady winning the race. Now just change the turtle to the pilot and the Hatch, and more along the lines of accidently turning the ship upside down and dropping the Hatch on his head, etcetra, you know... something fancy and the like." Bishop waves his hand. "Long story short, I'm going to short sheet your bed." He looks then over at Tyr and frowns, "You going to poke me with anything sharp?"

Saienne is distracted for certain now, and she looks back up at Bishop, smiling lop-sidedly. "That there's fightin' talk," she says, chuckling a little. She taps at the PDA again, then pushes herself up from the counter, trying to keep out of the way of Hatch and Josephine. "Well," she says, "Looks like I got me a shortlist of three." She regards the assembled crew. "What do I fancy, d'you reckon? A bundle of letters goin' to Persephone; a box of unspecified contents bound for Ezra; or a -" and at this she peers closer into her PDA's small screen, wrinkling up her nose as she peers "- thought I was seein' things." She looks up and grins. "A rabbit for Bellerophon."

"The letters would probably be the most practical, Sai," Josephine replies, "But that rabbit would be awfully cute. I'd stay clear of the box of unspecified contents, if I were you." She focuses for a time on preparing her breakfast dish which she then takes to sit at the table and eat properly.

"Oh, I betcha that I could see to a rabbit," says Tyr with a wave of his hand, as if he finds out something that he could do for the lot of them. He then looks at Bishop. "Maybe. Gonna have to see what it is."

Hatch hops himself up onto the counter, "Naw, wait till I'm out doing EVA manuvers and just take off.. or better yet come back around and bounce me off the obs bay window. That would look intresting, aye?" Hatch comments to Bishop as he mankes himself comfortable, and steals a slice more of the psudobacon.

"Or tape you to the underbelly and scrape the surface of the planet with you... but I ain't that cruel." Bishop says with a sigh and moves to sip his tea and bask in the vapors.

Saienne nods in reply to Josephine. "My thoughts were runnin' along those lines, certainly," she says. "Ain't no doubt that the rabbit would bring in more money, but there ain't no sense in takin' unnecessary risks, an' rabbits do have the nasty habit of dyin' -" she gestures with one long-fingered hand at Tyr "- miracle rabbit healers notwithstandin'. Nervous disposition, an' all." She pauses to tap on the screen again. "Letters to Persephone it is. Nice an' straightforward." She taps the PDA off and slips it back into her pocket. "Ain't like we head toward Bellerophon all that often, anyhow."

Tyr looks disappointed at the no-rabbits thing, but then nods his head at the announcement of letters. "Well, Persephone has a lot of people on it," he remarks, as if that makes sense. "Could. Uh. Take a look around there and stuff."

"Isn't Bellerophon the ocean planet with all the rich folks?" Josephine notes, conversationally, as she pokes at the curiously realistic bacon-like food item on her plate. "Did we pick you up on Persephone, Tyr?" she asks, poking and then poking again. "Hatch this is strangely..spongey..are you sure it's edible?" Her brow furrows in concern.

"Yes it's edible." He says with a bit of exaustion in his tone as he slips off the counter to slip his arms about Jo for a moment, "It's not real bacon, it's ... well I flavored it with real bacon so were doing the best we can eh." Hatch leans in to kiss Jo's neck warmly before he starts to wander around the Galley again/

"Uhm... Ew?" Bishop comments towards the others, shaking his head a bit and then going back ot his tea. "Hi, some of us are sick, don't need to be seein' no neckin' in the galley."

Tyr glances over his shoulder from where he's clucking over Bishop at the sound of a kiss. He furrows up his brow a little bit, but then turns back. "You done with your tea yet, Bishop? I can get a look at you if you are."

"Cortex ad made it look like the letters were addressed for just one person," explains Saienne. "I expect the sender didn't want to trust them to the postal service, for one reason or another - ain't my place to pry into the whys and wherefores." She smiles a lop-sided smile. "Plenty of things I wouldn't want to trust to the postal service neither, but I do declare I am biased in that respect." Sai looks up and nods in response to Josephine. "It is. Floatin' mansions, ain't much trade goin' on in any form, an' it's always crawlin' with Feds." She shakes her head. "Somewhat of a dead planet, when you think on it. Not the kind of place I would choose to set foot on, certainly." She looks up at Tyr and grins crookedly. "Persephone's a riot," she says. "Spent a few years there before I got myself together." A pause. "Riotin'."

"They one o' those big fluffy rabbits?" Aradia asks Saienne, "We carried a whole cargo hold full of 'em a few times on the Pearl. They poop a lot less than chickens." Shrugging a shoulder, she yawns and stretches out a little more, lifting her gaze toward teh ceiling and falling silent again.

Josephine blushes for a moment at the attention from Hatch, or, perhaps moreso from Bishop making a fuss about it. She sure picks funny moments to be shy. The little woman focuses attentively on her fake bacon, trying a very tentative little taste before she goes about actually eating her food. "Not too bad.." she has to admit, enjoying each slow, mindfully appreciated bite of breakfast.

"No they didn't." Hatch comments as he finishes putting away some of the breakfast, "Rabbits were hard round and in little piles.. just a hell of alot easier to clean up then those gawd awful birds." He shudders at the though, but pauses as he notices Jo's flush. He walks over to stand just behind her again and leans close.

Tyr smiles a little bit as he finishes off his plate and then goes up to put it and wash it with the others. Wash, wash, scrub, he seems to be in his own little world away from the rest.

Bishop looks over at Tyr, "Still working on my Tea." He sips the tea then to emphasize the point. "Nice and easily working on it. PRobably another half an hour or so I'll be done."

"Advert wasn't that specific," says Saienne to Aradia, "But I expect either big an' fluffy or twitchy an' very rare." She inspects her fingernails, and adds. "Sounded like someone was relocatin' an'... forgot her rabbit." She shrugs, evidently aware of how ridiculous that sounds. "Don't ask me - but I sure as the six hells wouldn't put my favourite pet in the post." She regards Hatch as he recalls the chickens in obvious sympathy. "Ain't that the truth," she murmurs.

"Bellerophon ain't that bad a place to be if you want to make good money," Aradia says idly, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand and then tucking the blanket up under her chin. "'Specially if you know a person or two with a lot o' money."

"I never saw a rabbit up close before," Josephine admits, somewhat wistfully as she cuts another portion of her eggs. The fork is almost to her mouth when Hatch leans in behind her again, causing her to blush all over again, perhaps somewhat more direly. "Never ask someone why they're blushing, Hatch," she informs him, with a smile. "It only makes it worse. Unless.." the woman narrows her eyes at him 'suspiciously' "..that was your intent?"

"Sorry hun." Hatch murmers as he continues to stand nearby the woman, though stepping off to one side to lean upon the counter. "We going out hunting for extra work then are we?"

Bishop sips his tea then sighs. "Alright... let's go do this little check up thing I s'pose, although it's just a cold I'm tellin ya." He grumbles towards Tyr.

"But there ain't much goin' in an' out," says Saienne to Ara. "Leastwise not the kind of thing I'm use to carryin'. Folk like that want somethin' sensitive shiftin', they don't generally hire a courier." A beat, and a frown. "An' when they do, it's usually to shift somethin' dangerous or illegal or otherwise undesirable, an' that ain't my business." She nods sagely in response to Ara's final point. "An' ain't that the truth in nine out of ten cases? It's the folk you know." Josephine's admission makes her smile slightly. "Just like Larry," she says, "Except... fluffier; less ratty. An' without such a long tail. An' more nervous." She shoves her hands into her pockets and looks up around at the gathered crew. "I got a date to pick these letters up in a couple of hours or so."

Tyr follows on over after Bishop when he says he's done with his tea. "I'm gonna go take a look. It's probably just a cold," emphasizes Tyr, even as he makes his way out. "Take care, everyone. See you all soon."

"Least someone here's got a date," Aradia says with a wry smile in Saienne's direction. "Wear your pretty new frock 'n wow 'em," she says as she lifts her gaze to the ceiling again and replies to Hatch, "You can go huntin' whatever you want out there in that gorram infernal and unnatural cold. I ain't going nowhere I don't have to go."

Josephine grins at Saienne's description of a rabbit. "It sounds..completely different from Larry," she informs the other woman. "Except for that they're both fuzzy animals. See you around, Tyr!" she says, offering a friendly wave, before looking back to her neglected breakfast. "I don't think I'll ever get used to eating and talking at the same time," the little cook sighs, going back to her cold eggs.

"Aye aye, Princess." Hatch responds to Ara as he lingers around the kitchen,just not able to get his head into the converastions today. He shakes his heada bit and sighs, goes over to finish off the dishes after asking Jo if shewants her food reheated.

"It ain't new," says Saienne, with a bit of a smile in the direction of the Captain. "An' you are incorrigible." She speaks mildly, and with evident good humour. "If you think I'm goin' out in the snow without my thermals an' my furry hat you got another thing comin'." She glances down at her feet. "For one thing, the thermals mean I can't get myself into the gorram frock anyhow, an' the fur hat is entirely the wrong shade of grey." She nods somewhat ruefully at Josephine. "You ain't wrong. An' they are, indeed, both fuzzy animals." Tyr's departure causes her to duplicate the salute offered to him earlier in the conversation. "You take care, now, Tyr."

Looking over to Tyr, Aradia grins and says, "Poke him a few times with somethin' sharp just for bein' a stubborn ass. He's been sick for more 'n a week with that cold and he still looks worse than death." Turning her gaze back to Saienne, Aradia just smiles and says, "I'm sure the locals will probably find you far more fetching in your thermals 'n fuzzy hat, anyway."

Cold eggs are no real competition for Josephine's attention when someone she understands is feeling out of sorts. She picks up her plate to join Hatch in the galley, "Hey.. you okay?" she asks him gently, while considering if it is even possible to heat up eggs and how and if it is worth the effort.

Hatch glances over to Jo, "Oh me, yeah fine just getting distracted thinking over.. well thinking about the wedding and that bit of a conversation we never finished. Sorry." He slips his hands into his back pockets for a moment but one draws out to scratch at his cheek for a second or two, in the least he does smile when she starts talking to him.

"Less alarmin', I don't doubt," says Saienne to Aradia, "Although I ain't willin', really, to take Bishop's place as the one with habit for waltzin' around half-dressed." She lopes out from the galley, finally, affording Hatch and Josephine a little more privacy, and walks over to one of the wooden benches set around the dining table. "An' I ain't goin' to fill in for him while he's sick, neither, so don't bother yourself askin'."

"I can do without seein' you or Bishop runnin' around without your pants," Aradia says to Saienne, smirking in the woman's direction as she sits down over at the table. "Unless you mean you flyin' in his steed and no offense there Sai, but I think I'll stick to just me 'n a thermos of coffee."

Josephine smiles to the man gently, encouraging that smile of his own. "No need to apologise, love. And we /will/ finish that conversation. It's important. Don't you worry. I..think I'm going to give up on eating breakfast. I've had enough, anyway. Do you think the dogs will eat eggs, or..?"

"Dogs will eat anything Jo." Hatch responds as he traces his finger tips along her arm and starts heading on out of the room, "Going to laydown for a bit. I'll be back out later."

Saienne waves her hand in a gesture of agreement. "None taken, Captain." She sits down on the bench, slipping her legs beneath the table and resting her elbows on its warm wooden surface. "I reckon if I were pilotin' this ship even I'd choose not to fly on her." She makes a face. "If that makes any kind of sense, this or the other side of Christmas." She looks up to see Hatch taking his leave. "See you later, an' all," she says to him as he departs.

"It makes perfect sense," Aradia says with a grin, "Hell, my own husband ain't even confident in my ability o' flyin' that he's always griping at me." Tilting her head, she looks as Hatch disappears off down the corridor, lifting a hand in a salute of farewell and deciding against calling out anything. Stifling another yawn as she drops her hand back down, she mutters, "Gettin' tired myself."

Josephine chops up her breakfast into reasonable dog food-sized bits, looking thoughtful for a moment, after Hatch goes away. She seems..introspective to say the least. "I think I'm going to go check up on Tyr," she announces, putting the chopped up remains of her breakfast into the dog bowls so that nothing goes to waste. "He seems uncomfortable, before. And I want to see what's going on. Unless anyone needs something here?"

"I wonder," says Saienne, in response to Josephine, "If we weren't just overwhelmin' him by weight of words an' numbers earlier." She smiles. "I surely do recall how unsettlin' it can be when you're the only body present who doesn't know folk too well." She shakes her head, and pulls out her PDA to check on the time. "I should be gettin' myself ready for my walk in the snow, anyhow," she says, somewhat mournfully.

Josephine quickly washes her hands in the sink. "Nevertheless, I think I'm going to look into it anyway...just to be sure. I don't want anyone feeling unloved around here, not if I can help it." She dries her hands on a nearby towel. "Just give a holler on the com system if you need me for anything..you know..those random food-preparation emergencies and such," she clarifies, with a wink. "And be careful when you go out. If you let me know when you're heading back, I'll be sure to have tea waiting for you, okay?"

Saienne smiles fondly at Josephine. "I shouldn't be more than an hour or two," she says, in a calm tone. "It ain't far from here. But I'll call in if it seems like I'll be longer." She stands up from the table and, untangling her legs from the legs of the bench, shoves her hands deep down into her pockets. "Time to check on directions an' the like." A quick glance at Aradia. "An' find my furry hat an' thermals."
Read more...

[Log] An overgrown kumquat.

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Crew Commons, Grace O'Malley [Paquin]
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Josephine shrugs, "If we have the time and occasion, I wouldn't mind if we could go out looking for just that..if only for the look on Hatch's face when I'm wearing them, you know?" She and Aradia are sitting on the couch eating their breakfast of blueberry-enhanced oatmeal. Aradia, of course, has a mug of coffee as well. "And I thought green was one of my best colours!!"


"You can wear whatever colors you want, really," Aradia says with a shrug. "Always better to wear ones you like though even if they ain't the 'best' for you. Like orange." Spoon sticking up in her oatmeal, she retrieves her mug off the side table and takes a sip from it as she says, "If you come with Matty 'n I then I dare say that counts as having time." Replacing the mug again, she says, "Got a wave from my ol' Captain on the Pearl though 'n...I think I'm going to need to talk to Hatch at least but not sure if we'll be here as long as I'd hoped."

Lucinda exits out of the Starboard corridor, looking a little lethargic this morning but she's up and dressed crisply nonetheless. "Tell me there's coffee and I'll give you my first born." She grumblemphs and rubs at her face.

"Orange? First born?" asks Saienne, puzzlement in her tone, as she enters the Commons from the cargo bay at around the same time Lucinda comes in from the corridor. She cuts a direct line for the galley, pausing to inspect the coffee urn as she passes. "Smells fresh enough to me, Lucinda," she says.

"Well, I don't know..that reddish colour you picked out for me for the Masquerade..that was amazing, and I never would have thought of it myself," Josephine admits to Aradia. "There's coffee, Lu, but please keep your firstborn. I do, however, accept monetary donations to be given to various charities. OH! Saienne! Aradia tells me you don't like orange? And please, help yourselves to the blueberry oatmeal in the pot on the stove, unless..you want me to get up and get it for you, but then my own breakfast would become cold and I would be sad." She smiles endearingly at them both.

"I wonder what the coffee would be like if we actually ever let it drain down to the last of it in the urn rather than just filling it up o'er the top," Aradia muses as she looks toward said urn. "I don't want your firstborn anymore than, ugh," Aradia says, sticking her tongue out distastefully at the whole notion of babies.

Lucinda talks candidly when she's tired, and she must be as she comments. "Gorram it, I keep trying to get rid of the thing, and I got no takers.." She palms the bottom of a mug as she takes it from the shelf and half drags it off.

Saienne shakes her head at Josephine's accusation. "It ain't that I don't like orange," she says evenly as she reaches up into a cupboard for a couple of bowls. "A field full of California poppies is a beautiful thing to behold, an' marmalade surely would look ridiculous if it were any other colour." She pauses to stir the oatmeal around before asking Lucinda: "You eatin'? Smells real good." After another stir she continues her reply to Josephine: "It's me wearin' orange that I object to. Makes me look like nothin' so much as an overgrown kumquat, an' that ain't likely to be easy on anyone's eyes." She turns then to regard the coffee urn again. "Drain the coffee urn?" she asks, dubiously. "It won't never taste right again if you do that. It'd be like when my Mother took it upon herself to clean everyone's teapots inside an' out." She shakes her head. "Completely changed the taste of tea until the patina of tanin had time to build up again." The subject of babies is neatly avoided.

Josephine almost falls back on the couch and nearly spills her oatmeal everywhere as she has a good hearty laugh at the woman's delightful ramblings. "Saienne, you are wonderful," she declares, when she can speak again, while dabbing at her eyes with the ends of her sleeves. "An overgrown kumquat, eh? Ha.." She starts laughing again, uncontrollably, and it's a while before she fully recovers enough to clean an unrecoverable spot of oatmeal from her..er..Aradia's..sweater. "Oh dear," she murmurs, taking a deep breath. And then another. Finally, she is serious again. "Sorry, Ara.. What's going on with the Pearl?"

Shaking her head, Aradia just looks to Josephine with a faint smile and says, "Ain't nothing that can't be talked about later." Looking from her over to Saienne, she asks, "What the gorram hell is a kumquat and why does it sound like somethin' that shouldn't be discussed in polite company? Not that you're in polite company, mind."

Saienne peers at Josephine. "You feelin' all right there, Josephine?" She asks, smiling lop-sidedly. "Ain't it an awful thought?" She turns to the Captain, then, and makes a small round shape between her thumb and forefinger, "It's a fruit, about yay big," she explains to Aradia. "Somewhat like an orange, only much smaller, an' all mixed up on account of the peel bein' sweet an' the flesh bein' on the sour side. My aunt Loretta had a kumquat tree on her back porch. She used to make an unholy powerful liqueur from them..." Saienne grins crookedly. "Suffice to say, lookin' like an overgrown kumquat ain't a good thing, but it ain't an analogy like to offend folk of a sensitive disposition neither." Seeing as she has not received an answer from Lucinda about the oatmeal, she spoons a good portion into her own bowl and leaves the other empty on the counter, pushing it towards the doctor. She saunters out of the galley and towards the benches that surround the dining table.

Josephine coughs in an effort to pretend she isn't laughing again. "That's such a funny word..kumquat.." she mutters, shaking her head. "I didn't know you could make unholy powerful liqueur from them, but...I just can't say I'm surprised. And I really really really can't imagine you looking like a kumquat, Sai..of any size. I had actually told Aradia here that I thought you'd look lovely in orange, but apparently..you've already discussed the matter and...vetoed it with vehemence. So..what about yellow, then?"

"Huh," is about all Aradia has to say to Saienne's explanation of a kumquat, considering a moment before she says, "I wonder where we could get some o' that liquor," as she gets up from the couch with her now scraped clean bowl. Picking her mug up, she gulps down the rest of it and heads for the galley to deposit her dishes into the sink, giving them a quick rinse and leaving them there for Josephine to wash properly. "'scuse me while I go do something that doesn't involve dresses 'n color choices," she says on her way out.

"Truth be told," Saienne says, seriously, "I tend to steer clear of those bright an' shiny colours. Ain't really my kind of..." She trails off as Ara mentions dresses. "An' I hate to be a stereotype an' all, but if we're talkin' about colours for dresses we can stop talkin' right now." A pause. "I ain't got the legs for wearin' frocks." A pause. "Or the shoes." She grins crookedly at Josephine. "We can talk about you, mind, an' what colour you should be wearin'." She looks the other woman up and down. "Red, you were sayin' before? A deep an' sultry red would suit you, certainly." She smiles again. "You ever thought on a dalliance with blue?"

Josephine laughs again, but more naturally so, after Aradia departs, "Now the Captain thinks we're all frivolous. Lucky for us, she knows better..I think. And there's no reason you couldn't wear a long dress, if you had the occasion to, even if, for whatever reason, you didn't want to show off your shapely legs." The woman seems suddenly very rambly. "Did I ever tell you about the first and only time I wore a short sun dress? I hid behind the bulkhead right..there.." she pointed, expressively, "until Aradia pulled me out and helped me do up the rest of the buttons. It felt indecent! But she made me keep it on. Oh and it was yellow, too. I wore red to the Masquerade Ball on Paquin..back on the days of the Apollo.. I don't think I own anything that's blue. The more clothes I get, the longer it takes me to sort out what's what every morning. I guess being used to wearing a nun's robe doesn't help much, but I'm getting better. Oh..and nuns of my order wore orange, by the way. I hope I didn't look like a kumquat, especially with my head shaved and all..." She makes a funny face as if she is suddenly but not really concerned.

"I doubt you could look like a kumquat even if you tried very hard," Saienne says, good-naturedly. "Although with the shaven head an' the orange robes... well, mayhap I wouldn't have gone to sit out in the poppy field." She grins, nodding in empathy to Josephine's sun dress experience. "I have every sympathy," she says, adding: "When I was very young," she begins, "My Mother took to dressin' me up in all manner of frippery. Pink an' everythin'." A pause, and a lop-sided smile. "I think we can all agree pink ain't a good colour for many folk." She makes a face. "My brothers always said it was on account of her bein' so disappointed that they was boys an' Mother felt she had to make up for it with me." She chuckles, remembering. "I do believe it wasn't until my sister Maire came along that I got left alone to climb trees an' fall in the creek an' do all those other things that pink skirts really don't agree with." She eats a mouthful of the oatmeal and looks down into the bowl. "This is lovely," she says. "Last of the blueberries?"

Lucinda has filled her bowl that Sai nudged her way, and finally makes her way over to the others with breakfast and coffee in tow. "Skirts are impractical on a day to day basis, I find. I couldn't imagine running around the clinic or doing rounds and worrying about getting caught up in all that extra material. But they have their place at a dinner or the theatre.."

"Just about," Josephine admits, regarding the blueberries. She finishes up her own bowl and setting it aside for a moment. "You sound as if you had a very boisterous childhood and an interesting family," she observes, with a smile. "And you seem fond of the lot of them. Although..I have to say..Sai, I've considerable difficulty imaginging you in pink frippery, if you don't mind me saying so and..if frippery is what I think it is. Say, it seems to be just us girls again today, doesn't it. I wonder if the boys have some kind of secret welding club or somesuch that draws them all away from our illustrious company so very often."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with trousers for socialisin'," Saienne says, at first disagreeing with Lucinda. "Long as they're smart." She pauses. "But I do see what you're sayin'. Now I think on it, I can't imagine goin' to a ceilidh an' dancin' without a skirt." She makes a face again. "But that's different. That ain't..." She waves a hand in the air, searching for the appropriate word. "That ain't fancy." Josephine's comment about her family causes Saienne to grin widely. "Boisterous ain't the half of it. Gorram liability, more like." She nods. "An' I am fond of them - well, most of them. Fondness increases with distance, don't they say?" She nods as Josephine mentions the male half of the crew and their absence. "Well I don't doubt they have things they'd rather be doin' than discussin' frocks over breakfast, secret weldin' club or no, like shootin' at things or liftin' weights..."

Lucinda is no where near as chatty as the other two this morning, but she sinks down to a nearby chair to socialize all the same. "Kael's been busy actually trying to wade through reading my medical texts, if you can imagine. He's bound and determined to be able to understand what I'm lecturing on next week." She sets the bowl of oatmeal on the arm of the chair, leaving it balanced there while she concentrates on her coffee. "I hadn't been dancing in...ages." She tries to recall the last time, and just settles on 'ages' so her brain doesn't have to overwork itself before her first cup of Joe. "Until Kael took me last time we were on Paquin. Before that it was all...obligatory dinner parties and such."

Josephine laughs again at that. She seems to be in a jovial mood. "You'd be surprised, Saienne.. I for one am fairly certain that Maxwell Brooks knows far more about lady's fashion than all three of us put together and magnified by twenty. And Hatch can be mighty opinionated himself, if he's in the right mood. But I do prefer more practical clothes, more often than not. There's just..something about gliding across a dancefloor in flowing silk... Not to mention the way a girl can make her man look mildly faint just by showing a wee bit of skin. Fascinating, that.." She looks thoughtful for a moment before shaking her mind back to the present with a grin, "What's a..ceilidh? I love dancing!"

Saienne responds to Lucinda's Kael-related revelation with mild surprise. "Really?" She asks. "Well, that's real noble of him, ain't it? Good man, that Kael." About the dancing, Saienne shakes her head. "Me neither," she says, in concordance with Lucinda. "Persephone, probably. Not since before I came aboard the Grace, anyhow." She looks to Josephine, then to the decor in the Commons. "You ain't wrong about Max. I wonder if Ara plans on takin' him shoppin' with her..." She munches on a little more oatmeal, cleaning out the bowl. "A ceilidh?" Sai replies to Josephine. "An almighty shindig, usually. Wild dancin', beautiful music, good company, powerful hooch, an' sometimes a fistfight to round the evenin' off, dependin' on how powerful the hooch was." She grins. "A riot." A cunning thought begins to assert itself in Saienne's mind. "Mayhap," she says, looking between Lucinda and Josephine, "Mayhap we should all go dancin' some time."

Lucinda nods a bit. "I'd like that. And I'm half certain Kael is only studying so he can somewhat follow along and be less likely to doze off. But ...he is a good man." She says softly, though her words furrow her brow for some reason.

"Oh!" cries Josephine with her eyes lighting up like stars. "I would /love/ to go dancing. So long as it doesn't involve fist-fighting, mind you, because I'm not much into that, but all the rest sounds amazingly delightful. I've never had the chance to dance /wildly/..unless me prancing around the commons before you all get out of bed in the morning counts for something..."

"Well, even so, that's thoughful of him, ain't it?" asks Saienne. "He doesn't want to doze off an embarrass you durin' your lecture." She pauses, and looks at the doctor more closely. "What are you lecturin' on next week, out of interest?" A beat. "An'... where?" Josephine's response causes Sai to grin again. "We should, we should. Fistfightin' ain't obligatory, don't you fret."

Lucinda has had a sufficient enough dose of coffee and now settles on her oatmeal, nevermind that its in the luke warm stages now. "They asked me to give a lecture at my Alma Mater regarding Tash's shoulder reconstruction surgery." She meets Sai's gaze for a moment. "Back on Ariel." A mouthful of blueberry goodness puts a kabosh on any comment on dancing for now.

Josephine decides that now might be a good time to do the dishes, while other people discuss matters that are well out of her league. She gathers used bowls and spoons and coffee mugs and heads over to the sink. "How many people will be at the lecture, Lu?" she asks, putting on her apron so she doesn't splash herself with water...which only mostly happens when she forgets to put on her apron, anyway.

Saienne's expression is now one of friendly respect. "Hell, Lucinda, that's a real honour, ain't it?" She hands her bowl to Josephine as she passes, smiling fondly. "You lookin' forward to it?" she asks the doctor. Perhaps mindful of events during their last visit to Ariel, she adds: "The lecture, I mean."

Lucinda mixes up her oatmeal a bit to distribute the remaining heat. "The symposium can hold well over a thousand, but I expect somewhere between two to three hundred. Mostly of the orthopedic surgeon variety, maybe a few who specialize in triage wound care. It wouldn't be the first time I've spoken to a group like this, but everytime is indeed an honor. If only I could seperate one from the other, I'd be much more excited about speaking." She alludes to what has Saienne's expression all mindful like.

"Wow, Lu," Josephine says, over the sound of running water, "That's really impressive." She hums a bit as she scrubs the bowls and such. "I'm glad Kael will be with you this time."

Lucinda lifts herself from her seat, bringing her dishes (her bowl with a good portion of the oatmeal remaining) "I am but a humble servant with a god given talent that I will no longer take for granted. If you both will excuse me, I should go check on Kael. Make sure he hasn't gone cross eyed or some such."

Saienne watches after Lucinda as she leaves to check on Kael. "If that hwoon dahn -" and she isn't referring to Kael "- shows his face an' sets Lucinda all on edge..." She shakes her head. "Here's hopin' he don't," she finishes, a little lamely.

Josephine smiles a touch, fondly, to Saienne. "You've got a protective nature to you, don't you?" She finishes with the dishes. "I suppose I'd better be off and doing non-galley-related work for a bit, then...provided you don't need anything more of me here?" She dries of her hands and hangs up the dish towel and her apron.

"I expect that comes of bein' the eldest," she says - and then pauses to clarify: "Eldest girl, I mean. Of my siblings an' my cousins an' all. Always shepardin' those kids around." She grins crookedly. "Not that I mean to imply that Lucinda is in any way like a child, but it's a hard instinct to suppress." She shakes her head to Jo. "No, thank you kindly. Breakfast was lovely - despite it bein' a damn shame to see the last of the blueberries, it ain't like they'd last forever."

Hatch wanders up from the lower decks, it appears perhaps in time to watch people perpare to leave? He's not really sure whats going on aside from the bit of conversation he caught between Jo and Sai, he scans the room a wee bit and wanders in to start to collect himself a mug of tea.

Josephine touches Sai's arm gently in passing. "We'll have more blueberries. Or maybe it will be strawberries next time. We'll see," she says with a warm smile. "And don't surpress the instinct. It is a lovely one." She pauses when she intercepts Hatch, long enough to stand on her toes and kiss his cheek, running her hand gently down his back. "Be good," she tells him, before she wanders off.

Sometime after Josephine wanders off, Aradia wanders in from the fore with a furrowed brow, calling, "Jo?" before looking around and asking, "Anyone seen Jo? Damn woman ain't answerin' her comm and I can't find her." Muttering under her breath, she heads across toward the aft corridor.

Saienne twists in her seat to watch Josephine pass. "Strawberries would be... " And she can't, it seems, summon a word to describe exactly what strawberries might be. After Josephine has greeted Hatch, wandered off, and Aradia has arrived, she answers the Captain: "You just missed her." She plants her hands on the wooden table and pushes herself to standing. "An' I was thinkin' on takin' a wander around Paquin, if that ain't a problem?"

"Not in the least, if you're going to go buy yourself a dress!" Aradia says cheerily to Saienne as she looks back to her, "Otherwise you're comin' with me to buy one for you." With a weary sigh, she says, "Would someone have Jo contact me on comms when she resurfaces? Matty's goin' to be grumbling enough that she's stuck with me."

Saienne looks directly at the captain. "Is that so?" she says, in good humour. "Actually, I was goin' out to find the best venue this place has to offer for dancin'. Of the wild an' uninhibited kind." She grins crookedly. "But if Matty is insistin' on frocks at her weddin', who am I to argue?" She pauses. "I'm sure I can unearth somethin'... suitable." And, so saying, she lifts her fingers in a lazy salute to Aradia and leaves the commons for the cargo bay, terra firma and, presumably, some kind of dress.

"That would be 'in the streets'," Aradia calls after Saienne with a smirk in response to dancing venues, shaking her head as she traipses off in the woman's wake and on out of the commons herself, back to muttering under her breath about something or other.

Read more...

[Log] C.M.O.T. Olaeno

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Paquin, Morty's Tent
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Somewhere not in the cargo office, quite a distance from the other gypsies, is a lone tent. Inside the tent is a person, back to the door, dressed in what appears to be an oriental rug, though chances are it's not, because that would be silly. Incense burns in the corner, and fills the tent with a thick, overpowering scent somewhere between flowers and soap.


The tent flap is drawn aside, allowing a gust of cold air to blow into what is probably otherwise a quite warm and cozy interior. There's a crinkle of paper as Aradia's voice can be heard, "I think this is it. Least if these directions are right." There's another crinkle of paper, a moment's silence and then, "Is this the right way up? Oh, bugger it." Aradia's head appears as it pokes in through the tent opening and she says, "Hey, oy?"

"Ain't got no idea," comes a low dusky voice in reply to Aradia. "But there ain't no reason for them to be wrong, surely?" Saienne stays outside as the Captain assesses whether the tent is the correct one or not, but even out in the cold and fresh Paquin air, the thick smell of incense wafts. She sniffs, and grins crookedly as Aradia half-disappears into the tent.

The gypsy turns around, a bit startled and peering at the two who have just entered. "What?" he asks, scratching at a bit of stubble that might make one think he really needs to either commit to growing a beard, or find himself a razor. He scoots around to be facing them, revealing under the carpet thing to be wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that... well, it /looks/ clean. He eyes them suspiciously, sniffling a little and rubbing at his nose.

She almost seems to be embarassed to actually say what she says right now as Aradia quirks a brow, looking the man over and asks, "Blackrum, I mean sun...Blacksun?" Her nose wrinkles a little as a waft of incense tickles it and she brings her hand up to cover her face just in time as she sneezes.

Saienne lifts a long-fingered hand up to tip her hat from her head before she enters the tent behind Aradia. She stays silent, listening with evident interest - but not too much comprehension - to the exchange between the stubbly gypsy and the Captain - but also taking the opportunity to scrutinise the inside of the tent. The hat, furry and looking not unlike a couple of dead rats, hangs from one hand.

"Mordus Valhalla Blacksun the third," he corrects proudly, sniffling a little more... which turns into a sort of snort, and after a few moments of body noises, a lugie planted into a bowl which, judging by it's contents, seems to have been put there for just that purpose. "You here for somethin' 'sides just botherin' me?" he inquires pointedly, not bothering to extend a handshake or anything silly like that.

Stepping in fully to the tent, Aradia says, "Yeah, Albert Mitchelson Frankfurter the Fifth tol' me you were lookin' to offload some goods in a hurry." The first part of her statement is said with a shift of her gaze to the ceiling for a brief moment before she looks back to the man. Nodding her head to Saienne, she slips her own hands and the crumpled up bit of paper into her pockets.

Saienne stays near the tent flap, watching in morbid fascination as the man contorts, snorts, and finally spits that which was bothering him into the bowl. "Ain't that charmin'," says Saienne, very quietly, as her gaze travels from the bowl and its disgusting contents to the man's nearly bearded face.

Morty's face scrunches a bit at Saienne, but at the mention of the name, he seems to light up. "Ah, 'ole Bert caughtcha, did he?" he says, coughing a bit into a closed fist. "Well why din'cha say so? Come on in, yeah, lookin' t' get these rut'n textiles outta here," he says, tossing a thub over his shoulders to a few crates, some of which are open, revealing inside a few spools of fabric. "They put a hurt'n on my allergies," he adds, sneezing at the floor between himself and the two guests. "Come on in, sit down!"

"What kind o' 'textiles' you got there?" Aradia asks as she leans forward a little toward the indicated crate before she takes a half step back, rocking on her heel and looking to Saienne again. With a shrug of her shoulder, she moves in a few paces and sinks down into a crouch, squating off to one side of the man. "That the only reason you're lookin' to get rid of 'em?" she asks.

"You sure it's the textiles?" Saienne asks, with genuine interest. "An' that it ain't the all the incense waftin' around in here causin' you -" she waves her hat in the general direction of Morty's bowl "- difficulties?" She joins Ara on the floor, returning her glance with an easy lop-sided smile, but sits straight-backed, crossing her legs and planting the furry hat in her lap.

Morty looks a little put off at the suggestion that what he says is not what it is. "What you take me for, a gorram liar?" he snarks, pulling the rug thing up around his broad shoulders. "Yeah, they's jus' textiles. Dusty's hell too," he elaborates. "Insence clears me up," he adds, along with a short but nasty sounding cough. "Seven hundred credits," he says. "An' that's some finely generous," he adds, as if they'd believe him.

You test your Bargain against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (21).
Jayne tests his Bargain against a 61 difficulty. The result is unsuccessful (-9).

"Dusty, eh? Seems like if they've had a chance to get dusty that they're y'know, hard to move," Aradia says in her most polite and conversational tone. Shifting her weight to settle more on one leg, still crouching, she rests an elbow on one knee and cranes her neck to peer into the visible crate again. "Looks like last year's," she says as her brow arches and she looks to Saienne, "Would you be seen wrapped in that?"

Aradia tests her Con_Artist against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (33).

Saienne shakes her head, not allowing her relaxed demeanor to slip in the slightest in the face of Morty's annoyance. "Nah, nah, nah," she says, waving one of her hands slightly and smiling crookedly. "It's just your allergy's pretty bad, if you don't mind me sayin' so." She glances sidelong at the bowl again. "An' if it's just these textiles gettin' you so congested-like..." A pause, and a shrug, as if the conclusion from that is obvious. At Ara's question, Saienne uncrosses her legs and kneels in order to be able to scrutinise the textile more closely. "Can't say I would," she says, in all seriousness, shaking her head. "An' I am quite the dedicated follower of fashion." She looks back over at Morty, dark eyes cool. "400, an' we'll have them out of your atmosphere before you can sneeze."

Morty's eyes narrow indignantly. "Funny," he says, likely both in response to Saienne's offer and Aradia's suggestion that these textiles are anything less than awesome. "Too late," he mutters a little, leaning back and sneezing hard into his elbow. "Six fifty," he counters, looking a little grumpy. "And they're not bad, lots of folks'd be right pleasant with ya' if they could get their hands on these babies!"

Pushing herself up out of her crouch, Aradia steps in toward the crate, leaning over to rub a corner of one of the bolts of fabric between thumb and forefinger, emitting a sneeze of her own as dust billows up. Rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, she looks back to Saienne with watering eyes and a small grin, "You'd look fabulous in this shade of orange, possibly. I think it's the little blue swirly things that'll really make the outfit though." Backing off from the crate, she sinks into a crouch again and says, "I dunno. Don't think we can resell 'em but you could make some mighty fine outfits for the boys at least with the lot of it."

"Six fifty?" asks Saienne, looking between the orange-blue swirly fabric and Morty's sneezing face with a crooked grin. "It ain't me bein' funny." She settles back into her cross-legged position and sets the hat on the floor beside her. "Right pleasant, is that so?" She turns to Aradia, and replies: "Orange ain't really my colour, but I imagine Josephine could do somethin' inventive with it. She's the colourful kind." She frowns, keeping a resolutely straight face. "Don't know about the boys, mind. Could you see Hatch in...?" She leans forward again and rubs long fingers carefully along the warp and weft of the fabric. "Mayhap they ain't so bad," she muses, quietly. She turns to regard Morty again. "Four fifty," she counters, "An' honestly I believe we would be doin' you a favour by takin' them off your hands. Dust makin' you itch an' all?"

Morty might seem to begin to wonder if there's a bit of truth to the statements about the quality of his goods. "They're fine fabrics," he repeats, almost as if trying to convince himself. Saienne's comment about not being so bad seems to reassure him a little. "Yeah, they ain't bad," he repeats. A bit of uncertainty might suggest the man doesn't know that much about fabrics. "Six fifty and I ain't but barely makin' a profit," he says, his eyes narrowing a little. "Six twenty five," he offers. "And no lower!"

Shrugging a shoulder, Aradia says, "You could sew new curtains to go around the bunks, 'n maybe some slips for the cushions and what not." Looking back to Morty, she says dryly as her lips curl into a smile, her comment directed at Saienne, "Frilled skirts for all the boys, too."

"Well, you ain't givin' us much to work with here," says Saienne, in a considered tone. "I mean, I can promise you we ain't goin' to make a dollar's worth of profit ourselves on this deal at anythin' over four seven five." Her easy-going smile and calm nature is honesty incarnate. "I mean, they surely ain't terrible - ain't seen any moth holes for a start - but they ain't catwalk fashion, neither." She looks over at the crates again. "We're goin' to have to go lookin' for a niche market, an' most like we'll have to pay to get them cleaned an' all, which, as I am sure you can imagine, ain't goin' to be cheap." A pause, as Saienne considers Aradia's suggestions: "Those are all good an' valid ways of usin' up fabric," says Saienne, "But we could find fabric as fitted better with Maxwell's decor at the market on Newhall." She looks at Morty. "I just passed through there," she says, smiling. "You ever been? Picked up some lovely things." She opens her coat a little so that her burgundy waistcoat can be seen, all shiny and silken. "Four seven five," she says, referring to the bolts of fabric again. "Because it's startin' to seem to me like you ain't serious about doin a deal."

Morty grumps, sniffling a little. "Six twenty," he says to Saienne, wrinkling his nose and sniffling a little more. "And y'er pretty much killin' me with this," he adds, glancing to Ara to make sure she's not trying to pocket any of his precious goods.

If you call picking something dubious off her pants pocketing precious goods, well...no even that doesn't hold true as Aradia rubs her fingers together and screws her nose up distastefully, depositing whatever it was on her pants back in against the corner of the tent. "Allergies are goin' to kill you quicker," she says absently, looking back up to Morty and then over to Saienne. "Shall we just get on out o' here and shop the markets for frocks, then?"

"She ain't lyin'," says Saienne, about the danger of the allergies. She peers over at the bowl again. "That really ain't healthy," she surmises, "You coughin' up bits of lung yet? I know a pretty good doctor..." Sai kneels up, the flats of her hands resting on her legs just above her knees. Her hat is still on the floor next to her. "Surely can, if you'd like to," she says to the Aradia. She looks back at Morty, then down at the dusty fabric. "I don't think Mister Blacksun here is interested in the realities of gettin' these bolts of dust out of his tent."

Morty eyes Saienne, looking very torn. "Can't do that, I got business to do," he replies, sniffling a little more. "Six ten," he suggests, shifting the carpet thing around on his back a little and trying to clear his throat.

"Business?" asks Saienne, instantly curious. "What kind of business? You got other things you're keen on sellin'? Mayhap we'll have a little more luck with somethin' else..." She pinches the bridge of her nose as Morty tries to clear his throat. "Oh, Mordus -" A pause, and a lop-sided but entirely genuine smile. "Can I call you Mordus? I'm Saienne. You're just about breakin' my heart. You really need to get this dust out of here." Saienne frowns once, a slight wrinkle in the crowsfeet at the corners of her eyes, and she appears to be considering deeply. "Five hundred," she says, quick and sharp. "An' honest to goodness I ain't goin' no higher than that." A quirk of her lips. "I ain't able to go no higher than that - it's only on account of feelin' for your poor nose with all that sneezin' that I'm even considerin' it."

Morty frowns, shaking his head a bit. "Six hundred," he says, almost wincing a little bit as he suggests such herecy. "And tha's what I paid fer the lot, so y'er getting this stuff wholesale," he says grumpily, folding his large arms and coughing a little.

Saienne rises from her knees to her haunches, and then up to her feet. She looks straight at Morty with dark eyes. "I'm sorry," she says, and looks almost entirely like she means it. "But as I said, I ain't able to go over five hundred, an' even that's cuttin' my own throat." She stoops once again to pick her fur hat up off the tent floor and brushes the dust off it. "Really is a shame about your lungs, mind." She glances at Ara. "'Bout them frocks. Josephine gave me the names of some boutiques we might try..."

Morty sighs, erupting in another fit of coughs. "You're lucky," he says, eyeing Saienne coldly. "I gotta maintain my throat 'cause o' my singin' voice," he explains, snarling a little and looking none too pleased about how crappy the deal he's getting is. "Five seventy five," he offers. "And that's losin' me money," he adds, pointing a threatening finger at Saienne.

Saienne turns back to Morty and offers her hand out for him to shake in order that the deal be sealed. "But think on what you're gainin'," she says to him in a gentle voice. "Fresh air an', who knows, mayhap we'll think on you in the future if we find somewhat that reminds us of you."

"Was a pleasure doin' business with you, Mister Blacksun," Aradia says with a smile, straightening up herself and going to stand by the entrance to the tent. "You should really see a doctor 'bout that though y'now?" she adds with a concerned furrowing of her brow.

Morty scowls at the two of them, sniffling a little more. "Don't take long comin' t' get the crates," he says, scooting over a little to make it easier to get by, and offering no other comment about whether or not he'll actually see a doctor.

Aradia tests her Value against a 40 difficulty. The result is successful (0).


Grace O'Malley - Cargo Bay
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Latticed stairs of steel lead up against the back wall of the cargo bay opposite the loading ramp, which opens beneath the nose of the ship, and a catwalk rings the entire level above. Cargo nets, strong metal barriers and tie-down chains can all be found, used to keep cargo containers from shifting in flight. The deck is bare, diamond plate metal and a bulkhead toward the fore starboard corner leads into the Med Bay.

To the portside of the bay, a reinforced, armored door leads into a long corridor, the inside of it armored and reinforced with bulk padding for further noise dampening. Set at intervals along the corridor's length are several targets. Alongside that, sparring mats and a variety of workout equipment can be found.

------

"Last season," Aradia scoffs with a wide grin as she waltzes as much as she can with her healing injured tummy up the ramp into the ship. "We're going to have to keep Max out of pilfering from these before we can offload them," she remarks, "You took that bastard for a ride." Turning toward Saienne, her grin widens as she says, "Fantastic job there. Whether you knew what you were gettin' or not."

"Just takin' my cue from you, Captain," says Saienne, swiping the daft furry hat off her head again as she enters the cargo bay. "I reckon you would've prodded me or fainted or somethin' if you reckoned I was goin' too far." She looks down at the crates in the cargo bay. "You reckon we'll sell them on easy enough? Because I meant what I said - orange really ain't my colour." A pause. "An' I was lyin' through my gorram teeth when I said I was a dedicated follower of fashion, in case that passed you by." She grins crookedly. "Can't help feelin' sorry for the fellow, mind, and I honestly do hope he gets to a doctor." She frowns. "Sounded a mite like damplung."

"Yeah, there's a whore house that has airs about itself out on Ezra what's got decor that orange will go perfectly with," Aradia says with an impish grin, "'n the whole lot of what's in there is fine silk. I'm guessin' most of it was brought in raw from Sihnon. He really didn't know what he had." Reaching up to scratch at the back of her head, she says, "Drive a good bargain on the other end and we ain't going to double our profit but we'll come close to it."

Saienne shrugs, and slips her free hand into her pocket. "Well," she says, mildly, "If they want it bad enough, they'll buy." She grins crookedly. "It's just a matter of framin' the goods in the right way." She looks down at the crates again. "If you're lookin' to sell 'em on on Ezra we might be as good dustin' the bolts off as best we can here in the cargo bay. Silk don't want to look shabby to sell." She looks up at the steps to the upper decks of the ship. "An' if you don't mind, I'm goin' to go an' brew a cup of tea. Feelin' a little parched what with all that gabbin'."

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