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4th of Autumn, 508 AV
4th of Autumn, 508 AV
Naia was tired. The rough, sore, pissed off tired that came to those who hadn't slept, entirely at the fault of others.
She gnashed her teeth, appetite nonexistent, a short survey of where podmate's sights and attentions were, before disposed of what was left of her stew over the side of the hulking vessel. The Ice Breaker a saique styled ship commandeered from an Avanthalian merchant before Naia's own birth, stripped down then dressed up once more to suit the pod's needs, the modification of skis one of the few kept. She was no Palivar, but she handled the rough of the bluewater just fine, and she would continue to do until the pod went to where Taldera met the Suvan to fashion a new vessel; just as the Lia before Talassa had, that vessel lasting just six years in Lia Talassa's charge before she had unceremoniously downed it in the wintry North.
Icebergs were such pesky things.
"Are we there yet?" Naia kept her gaze fixed on Lia Mila as the words rolled off her tongue, and the look of liquid fury that took to the woman's features was all that Naia had baited for.
"You've eyes, use them," the woman was unusually clipped, and near she echoed the old Lia Talassa's brashness. The woman seemed to be growing easily into the that before her, and Naia wasn't all too sure at all if such thing was in the pod's best favour. Not that the younger Svefra blamed her Matriarch for the unease, it wasn't everyday that the crew managed to kick up old bones and find themselves in ghost trouble. Though it didn't at all help that the ghosts had been lurking on ship for a good four days before they made their presence known to anyone other than Naia, who had, by that point, been doubting her sanity.
It was quiet, now, and had been for the last 5 bells since dawn. The night before, however, when the activity came to its peak, the whole ship had gone to Hai.
Eventually, Naia did what she was asked, though it took her several more chimes of indignant glaring at the ocean behind them, and the sight of several small boats pass by, for her to finally remove herself form her safe perch on the ship's poop deck. Her walk towards the the front of the ship was slow, calculated, and she gripped railings to a point where her pace was severely compromised. Even with the quiet relief that was the ship nearing the city, and the quieting of their unwanted guests, she wasn't about to leave herself open to be thrown over board.
One of the ghosts in particular, who a few of the crew liked to refer to as 'shykeface' due to the caking of mud on his form, had knocked said few of the crew into open ocean in the midst of festivities the night before. Repeatedly. One would climb on board, only to be knocked right back into Laviku's embrace. Although the other half of the crew found such acts entertaining at first, when it came to the fourth and sixth times that Seger and the others were thrown, and they were showing signs of exhaustion, a call to end the malice was made by the Lia.
Of course, the fact that the ghosts were not ocean born, and responded in kind by groping the woman in the ass were the final straw. They could be cast into oblivion for all Lia Mila, and by extension the crew, cared. Of course, they didn't care, and the entire night was made with Rylan steering the ship for the closest city between the dodging of flying mugs, Naia shouting 'I told you sos,' and Seger and Mila spending trying to shoo them from the ship in vain, all other podmates either joining in on the madness, or tethering themselves to the ship as they helped the journey to land.
Eerily, they quietened down at dawn.
"Alright, little ghost teller," Lia Mila sung, ripping Naia from her thoughts, her hands still quite tightly grasping the rail, and feet firmly in place. She'd fallen so deep into her mind's eye that she'd missed the vessel pulling into the piers, such as they were, the off smell of fish, rotting wood, and assaulting her nostrils. "Rylan and I are going to find someone who can help with our little problem-"
The man in question snorted, and shot the woman an alarmed look. Rylan may have been tall, broad, tanned, and fit- but the man couldn't swing a blade to save his life. Even Naia was skeptical, though he was the one who dealt with the pod's coin. "I need you to keep an eye on the situation, since you first saw the ghosts, I assume you're the most likely to observe any... changes," Rylan seemed to warm up to the idea, but still his face was exceptionally pale. He hadn't been the most healthy lately, and it was his two copper miza's worth that was then added, "With any luck, they just wanted a free ride to a whorehouse, and now they're more than happy to leave us all alone." Mila was prompt in elbowing the man square in the stomach.
He gave a low grunt, and winced, a curse rolling under his breath before he made his way to hurry the crew into lowering the gangplank. In the past the jabs would have continued back and forth for some time, but now that Mila was Lia, there was no questioning her, playful or no.
The eldest Svefra woman didn't take too much longer to follow, and Naia stationed herself at the wheel of the ship at her leave, eagerly awaiting whatever magic mage man they were going to seek to rid the ship of its lunatics. The ghostly ones, at least.
OOC :
