Uwah! I don't think I've ever seen a storm as bad as this! Maybe it only seems that way because we're out in the middle of the ocean?

I've never gotten seasick but these waves are really- eh? What was that? ...maybe I imagined it? I thought I saw something...someone? Out ther-whoa!

Phew! Th-that was close...! Maybe I should head back in...

...um.

I can't find Captain Harlock anywhere on board. H-has anyone seen or heard from him lately?

Otherwise, I guess I'm the only one left here...

Our crew's gotten so tiny. I wonder if there has to be a set number for a crew to be called a crew...

Hopefully everyone's okay and back home. I miss them, but I know lots of others here have people they miss, either from home or from meeting here.

[He sighs quietly.]

Um. I hope everyone's been all right, otherwise.

...maybe I'll do some baking to get my mind off of things.


Oh! Miss Cat, did you get your book back?

[A thin, high-pitched note sounds, although not quite high enough to bother eardrums, thankfully.]

Oops- a little too much...

[There's the sound of water, a subtle trickle as it's transferred from one thing to another. The note is sounded again, not so sharp as before, a high C on scale for the musically inclined.]

Better. Okay... Now what was it again?

[Lyrik pauses, listening to a faint hum before he hums it himself. That high C is stroked again to the G he hums. There's the sound of trickling water again, and after a bit of a false start, a little adjustment, a third tone, the same quality as the C save in the key of E echoes to complete the harmony.

They blend, Lyrik's humming ceasing although the shard holds its own tone quite noticeably now before the sound grows fuller with the notes that resonate with it. It expands and then softens after a few seconds before the young dragon lets out a breath.]

...I think that did it!


[Those of the Triton's Mistress would find Lyrik in the galley with several glasses of water in front of him, the shard sitting in one of them. If they come early enough they'd see the water snake up from one glass to another as he uses his magic to adjust the amounts.]


((OOC: Ahaha, hope I did this right! Slap me if I didn't mods.))

Hello, darlings.

[The voice is soft, almost gentle. It's a woman's voice, one who sounds fairly young but still bears a weight and authority.]

I heard distressing reports that Mother was very ill, and it seems they were true. That's most concerning. To be quite honest, I half thought her immortal.

I suppose that mystery remains locked away. No matter.

[Then, she sighs and clears her throat.]

I apologise. I've forgotten my manners. Introductions, of course. My name is, quite honestly, irrelevant. The people who know me best here call me Cat, and I invite you to do the same.

I understand many of you have suffered a great deal. As it is, I'm attempting to arrange a little present for all of you Travelers, something to make your stay here a little easier.

It's no small task, and I don't want to name it for fear I won't be able to deliver, but I promise I will try.

In other matters, I suppose I owe it to Mother to warn you that I'm afraid you haven't heard the last of dear Hawtrey. I fear he's disturbing those best left to rest, but I can't be sure yet why. I intend to look into the matter more thoroughly, but I am almost certain no good can come of it.

[Another sigh and something that might be a chuckle but very soft. A tired sound, perhaps.]

That's quite enough about me, I think. What I'm interested in is all of you. You must have realised by now how much magic there is in this place. One can almost breathe it in, the air is so thick with it. Is that common, in the places all of you came from? Or is this quite foreign?

Other worlds do fascinate me so.

[The writing's a little ruff, he hasn't had to make do with the table in the galley for ages]

Due to circumstances beyond my control I'm in the market for a new writing desk. I'm checking to make sure there isn't an island of strange furniture makers I don't know about.

[Yes Harlock did leave the Mistress's shard out on his desk, and it caught fire when he out dealing with the storm. Better the desk than his Heavy Red Bourbon

The journal picks him mumbling.]

It was to big for the room anyway. Not sure how he got half of that stuff in there in the first place.

Hmm, that's...interesting? I guess?

Is it common for the rain to be this color? If not, I hope it's not unhealthy...

...from the looks of those clouds, it seems like this storm will be lasting for quite a while! I hope everyone stays safe out there!

[For those aboard the ship, Lyrik is standing out in the rain, although apparently not at all touched by any of it as he walks along. His arms folded in front of him, he fingers his chin as he eyes the deck.]

I guess I'll just have to wait until later before I can effectively clear all this water out.

...eh?

[This new voice sounds relatively young, continuing to speak above the sound of pages being flipped back and forth. The page flipping becomes progressively more frantic.]

What? Whaaat? That's it?! A creepy letter in some pretty atrocious handwriting- What kind of a name is Sc...Scurvy Dog..? This hardly makes any sense..!

What's an...Isla Em...pieza? I've never heard of it before- wait

Is this somewhere out of Corseltel? -ohwaitarethose humans????

[Someone's slowly but surely starting to freak out here.]