Goblin Town -- Logs

Cinnamon sighs, remembering Marcus is aboard too. No, wait: she does not care that he's here -- no, he's not here to her -- that's right! She straightens and turns to Baird -- then blinks startledly, "Shane!" She looks around puzzledly, "Where'd he go? It's not like you punched him in the nose or anything!" She blushes hotly a second later, "Ohmygosh! I am so sorry, Shane -- that was awful of me!" She bemusedly adds, "Did you, um... see Baird here a moment ago? Weird..." then even more confusedly, "Have you... like, been training in... in battlements with him or something?"

Shane can't help but laugh when Cinnamon is shocked that a professional kidnapper can be sneaky, "I saw Baird walking across the deck, and then I saw you, and thought I'd come check on you. Battle.... ments... those are the things on castles that you hide behind, right?"

"Well, yeah, I thought so..." Cinnamon's voice trails off as she thinks. She knows she and Shane are both speaking English, and she doesn't really need to hide behind a battlement! Unless... maybe Baird was making some... sort of metaphor about her being a battlement for Shane, if he needed it? That thought makes her feel a bit better, and she straightens and smiles at Shane, "I guess it's not important, really. I'll be there if needed, after all. I'm good! How're you?" She glances behind Shane -- no one's near, good -- and adds in a whisper, "Hey, do you know why Marcus of all people is on this trip?"

Shane sighs and leans back against the railing, looking out across the deck, "Jaeger insisted he come, apparently." He rubs a hand over his face, "Rrrrgh." Then he looks at Cinnamon, quietly adding, "I know you're anxious about me hurting him again, a ghr�. I promise I won't, unless he pushes me to it."

Cinnamon blinks a bit blankly at Shane, "Anxious? Me?" She slowly shakes her head, "No, I..." She sighs, glancing down at her hands on the railing with a slightly embarrassed expression, "I... don't want you to get into trouble because I was a dummy, Shane. I don't feel..." She pauses, considering... how does she feel? She remembers Spice's comment on Shane being the only one that was upset about what he did, and she whispers almost fiercely, "Shaney, I think that -- that doodyhead deserved to hurt like he hurt me! I don't know why you'd be ashamed of that, either. But... but you don't deserve to be -- to be shunned or anything -- because of me, you know?"

Shane turns and cups Cinnamon's face in his hands, his voice gentle and reassuring, "I'm not going to be. Okay? You don't have to worry about that." He leans in and rests his forehead on hers. Cinnamon sighs, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Shane's in return. Thank goodness! Shane's not upset with her, and he's not ashamed. She still doesn't know why Marcus is here, but... it'll be okay. Shane's still good with her... it'll be okay.

From behind, it absolutely looks like Shane is kissing Cinnamon -- and Marcus (just coming from belowdecks) freezes as he sees exactly what he most doesn't want to see. Shane smiles and rubs his nose against Cinnamon's, which very much adds to the illusion that they were kissing, and stands up straight, "Now! Are you going to be running around like a kid in a candy store this voyage, too?"

Cinnamon blinks up at Shane, "Wh... what?" She's genuinely confused, "What do you mean, Shaney? Have I... did I get in someone's way, or something, last time?" She is, admittedly, still happy-squealing a little bit inside -- Shane is touching her, eeeee! It's actually rather distracting!

Shane chuckles, "No, acushla, you aren't. I just like watching you scampering around. You're always so happy and smiling."

"Oh!" Cinnamon thinks about that for a moment... she's going to grayrock Mar- er, the doodyhead, right. Yeah, things should be fine! She smiles at Shane, "Well, I intend to?"

Shane nods, and then he does actually kiss her -- on the forehead, as he often does, "Good!" He takes a deep breath, "I'm glad we're all here together. This is going to be dangerous." Across the deck, Marcus is grinding his teeth. He needs to figure out how to make Cinnamon and Shane understand he realizes he fucked up.

Cinnamon blinks again, beaming a bit goofily -- Shane kissed her too! Like a sister or a friend, sure... but she's good with that! It's certainly better than no kiss at all, to her. It takes a few seconds, in fact, for her to blink again and puzzledly ask, "Dangerous...?"

Shane shrugs, "Curses are dangerous things. No matter the precautions you take, they try to find ways around them."

"Oh! I get it now. Sorry!" Cinnamon grins shyly as she adds, "We can still... try to have a nice time on the trip over, though, right?"

Shane slides an arm around Cinnamon's shoulders, smiling down at her as he leans against the rail with her. He takes every chance possible to touch her, after all, "Absolutely." Cinnamon doesn't think it consciously... but if Shane's going to keep touching her like this, she's going to have a wonderful trip!

The ship gets underway easily. Thorn doesn't get in the way of the crew unless he's asked to help with setting the sails; he doesn't mind the work, of course. Otherwise he spends the first bit of time on the ship in setting things right in the infirmary. He's very, very happy; the wolves keep the infirmary in pristine condition, even if it's almost a replica of a 19th century tall ship's infirmary.

The crew have been working together for longer than any human crew out there, and they've got the advantage of being able to hear one another further along the ship. They can all also scent that something's up. People have anxiety scents... and Fraser, being First Mate as well as bo's'n, eventually finds his way to Cinnamon. The little dragon gets better at grayrocking Marcus as time passes -- it was just the first, completely unexpected sight of him that gave her a nasty shock. Fortunately for Cinnamon (even though she doesn't realize it's happening), having Shane sort of 'looming' near her is sufficient deterrent for Marcus... which means the little dragon doesn't have any more of those abrupt face-to-faces with someone she desperately wishes to not see at all. By the time Fraser gets to Cinnamon, she's gotten smooth enough at appearing calm that it's now only her scent that gives her away. She grins cheerfully up at him, "Hi, Frazey! What jobs do you have for me today?"

Fraser leans against something near Cinnamon so he's not looming, and arches his brows, "We'll get to that soon enough, lass. I want to know what's going on between you and Marcus. Last time you were on this ship, you were getting on quite well with him."

Cinnamon freezes for a heartbeat, her lips parting to... deny, deflect, something...? After a few heartbeats and a few deep, slow breaths, though, she finally tilts her head and tries a friendly grin, "Who?" She's... actually still a terrible liar -- the grin looks utterly false.

Fraser uses a thumb to gently pull up one of Cinnamon's eyelids and peer at her eye, "I'm not seeing any signs of concussion, and you've not shown any other signs of memory loss... so ye're not foolin' me, lass."

Cinnamon blinks and sort of leans away as Fraser's large hand gets close to her glasses -- she's quite protective of them, considering she can't see at all well without them! "Um... okay? But... what does it matter if I'm grayrocking him, Fraser -- really? I mean, you're who taught me how to do that! I haven't been shirking doing my share of stuff aboard the Valkyrie, after all..." She tilts her head a bit confusedly, "Has someone... complained about my behavior, or something?"

Fraser rumbles, "Because it's my job as bo's'n on this ship to know about any issues between the crew and passengers." He smirks a little, "Believe it or not, lass, aside from those three days per month, I'm actually the person in charge of discipline around here." Then he shakes his head, "No. No complaints. But friction causes flames, and everyone knows fire is bad aboard a wooden ship at sea."

Cinnamon looks a little worried, "Disci... uhmm... wait. Am I somehow causing problems? I'm sorry!"

Fraser rests his hands gently on Cinnamon's shoulders, "Shhh. No. But if you're upset at him, he might pull some more of his pouty bullshite... and I need to know about it."

Cinnamon blinks worriedly up at Fraser... and then the phrase 'pouty bullshite' registers -- and the little dragon giggles! Unfortunately, the giggles don't want to stop immediately... which means a few moments later, Cinnamon has her head ducked with both hands across her mouth, and is blinking away tears. Fraser wraps his arms around Cinnamon and hugs her against himself. He's a big, solid guy and he rocks with the boat, humming under his breath. He makes plans to make Marcus regret whatever he's done.

Cinnamon abruptly leans against Fraser, her arms kind of framing her head as she leans her face into his chest. She sniffles and struggles with fighting down the urge to sob disconsolately, trying to be fierce as she repeats to herself: she is not going to do this in public, darnit! Marcus does not get to humiliate her yet again! That thought, oddly enough, helps her metaphorically stiffen her spine... so that a little bit later she takes a long, slow, sighing breath. Fraser smells oddly nice, actually -- sun and ocean and sweat and sort of wolfy -- a little bit like Shane except for the wolf part... very reassuring... she sighs again, bringing up one small hand to wipe away the tears and adjust her glasses before she looks up at Fraser and smiles shakily at him, "I'm sorry, Frazey... I'm being a dummy again."

Fraser tips Cinnamon's chin up, "Ye're hurtin' an' I can smell th' hurt. Now, lass, what happened?"

Cinnamon sighs again as she straightens... then sits down on the deck with a small thump. She pats the deck next to her in invitation, glancing up at the (now much taller) first mate. Fraser settles in beside her, pulling his knees up and resting his arms across them. Cinnamon sighs, not really wanting to relive that painful, horrible day... then takes a deep breath and decides to treat it like ripping off a bandage. She keeps her voice at a low whisper, though -- no need for everyone to know what a gullible fool she was! "Okay, so... please d-don't ask for a lot of details, okay? -- because, like, I -- I totally d-don't want to relive it -- but... b-but I trusted Marcus when I shouldn't have, and..." She sighs again, thinking morosely to herself, [Okay, here we go...] -- then nearly blurts out, "and... andheandhisfriendsdumpedmeattheSolsticeMarketyesIalreadyknowI'mtootrustingthat's it." She looks down at her fingers idly twisting together... and hopes a bit dully that Captain Arvid has lots of hard jobs for her. Easier not to think about it when she's busy, after all.

Fraser listens and his eyes narrow, "That little idiot..." He slides an arm around Cinnamon's shoulder, "I see. All right. Thank you for letting me know." He could have sworn Marcus was pulling his head out of his ass, the last time the elf was aboard.

Cinnamon leans against Fraser, feeling wrung out again. She sighs and whispers, "P-please don't tell anyone? I... I don't want people pointing and laughing at me again."

Fraser arches one brow and quietly growls, "Lass, pointin' and laughin' isnae likely t' be the reaction. Growlin' and threats for his life are more likely."

Cinnamon gives Fraser a wry glance, "Oh, you talked to Shane, then?"

Fraser tips his head, "Should I have? Did Shane threaten his life?"

The little dragon sighs and shakes her head, completely unaware of what the werewolf actually means, "I'm still not entirely sure why he punched M- that doodyhead... but he doesn't deserve any flack for it, okay? I think... I think maybe he didn't realize it was my own fault for being so gullible... again."

Fraser's brows go up again, "Oh, I see... and it was not your fault -- at all! I will say that..." He takes a deep breath, "Have I told you why I was cursed?"

Cinnamon laughs at the thought of Shane killing someone for her -- the very thought is absurd! Admittedly, she doesn't have a clue that his feelings for her are just as strong as hers are for him... but at Fraser's query she blinks up at him -- then takes his hand in both of hers, "No, Frazey, but I always figured it was painful and you sure don't have to relive that because of me, okay? I want to be your friend -- not hurt you!" She pauses, remembering a few nose baps -- and more! -- to the cursed wolf... then blushes, "W-well, I mean... not during the full m-moon?"

Fraser smiles quietly, "Let's us just say I was... not a good man when it came to women. I was a beast... and so I was cursed to be a beast -- and what kind of man would you say I am now?"

Cinnamon's immediate reply is firm, "Not a beast! Frazey, you... you're cuddly!" To her -- someone taught all her pre-supernatural life to not to let folks get too close -- that is highest praise!

Fraser smiles and squeezes her against his side, "Cinnamon, I am cunning and I am deadly on the full moon. You can control me, but not many can. Arvid can't -- there's a reason I'm in the brig during those nights. The first time I shifted with the crew, it took all of them to subdue me. But I have learned to be a better man. The beast... is still a beast."

Cinnamon thinks about that for a moment... then replies firmly, "Just because a curse is inside you doesn't mean you are the curse, though, Frazey... any more than Baird is! -- and I like who you are! Real you, I mean... not the curse."

Fraser smiles, "The lesson is: even the worst people can sometimes learn their lessons, given the right impetus. I had to find this pack. You would not have liked me when I was in my natural mortal lifetime."

Cinnamon nods in understanding... then grins wryly, "I don't think, un, cursing... that jerkface is the answer, though. It'd really hurt Jaeger... and I care a lot about Jaeger."

Fraser chuckles, "I didn't suggest a curse. I meant that sometimes a hard lesson will change someone... and you gray-rocking him may be the hard lesson the lad needs." His eyes flick around the deck, finding Shane, Marcus, and Thorn -- all three. "Of course, I wouldn't doubt having Shane punch him might help, too. I've taken a blow or two off that lad, and it's like being punched by a relatively friendly boulder."

Cinnamon giggles at that, blushing slightly as she glances towards Shane. A moment later she leans towards Fraser to whisper even more quietly, "Hilde told me he broke his nose with one punch!"

Fraser leans back confidentially and rumbles, "Fuckin' deserved it."

Cinnamon gasps, her eyes widening, "W-what? Wait, did... did Shane tell you about something Marcus did to him too?!" She's a bit confused -- she's pretty sure Shane said there wasn't anything else Marcus did to him... though he did mention his, um, habit of... well, sort of threatening people if they were bad? She's still not sure how she feels about that... considering she knows it was actually her fault that M- darnit! The jerkface, right -- acted badly towards her.

Fraser shakes his head, "No. Marcus did something shitty and got consequences for it. I think he may have gone a few too many years without having to face those."

Cinnamon blinks thoughtfully... didn't Shane say something about consequences too? She sighs and shakes her head -- too much thinking about the jerkface! "I don't think he's that old, honestly... maybe 22? But... I also d-don't care, so..." She scrambles to her feet, then grins and offers a hand up to Fraser, "So, no heavy jobs for me? I was just getting used to doing all the hard work around here for you!" She giggles a bit tentatively -- she's pretty sure that qualifies as okay teasing?

Fraser pushes to his feet and bumps her shoulder with his, "And I've had fifteen-year-olds on this ship that had never had any sort of consequences in their lives. One of them damn near lost an arm because he didn't think he needed to listen to 'some Limey arsehole.' Little shite-for-brains didn't even know the difference between a Scotsman and a Brit. Got his arm caught in some rigging and fell."

Cinnamon giggles again, then raises her eyebrows in mock astonishment, "Wait, you mean Scotland isn't the same as Britain?! Kidding, kidding!"

Fraser snorts and nips at her, missing on purpose, "What I mean is that people get used to doing what they want, and make stupid decisions."

Cinnamon laughs and hugs Fraser tightly, "I know, silly!" She sighs, leaning against the sturdy Scotsman for a few seconds... then straightens and smiles up at him, "Okay, for reals now: what can I do to help? I want to stay busy!"

Fraser chuckles, "I've got rope that needs to be moved. You're always good at that."

Cinnamon beams and nods, "Sure! Where is it, and where do you want it?"

It's a couple of days into the voyage when Baird hears Cinnamon call out to one of the crew in the only shared language they all have. He listens a bit bemusedly to the short and (to him) unintelligible conversation, then asks, "You don't by any chance speak Arabic?"

Cinnamon waves to the crewman -- crew-wolf? -- to signify she got the message, then glances at Baird with a smile, "No... not yet, at least. Why? Do you need me to?"

Baird replies, "Possibly. Being able to have a very stealthy and unexpected way in and out of a highly secure location in a country where Arabic is the main language would be quite helpful." He snorts, "I've got the crew mostly chosen. You and Shane have met most of them already." There's a look of sardonic amusement on his face.

Cinnamon looks intrigued as she pushes her glasses up -- her ordinary joie du vivre is slowly returning under the warm appreciation of the Valkyrie's crew, where she knows she's valued and liked. "Stealthy and unexpected? Like a dragon, you mean? What's the job? I mean, it sounds like you don't want a dragon for the whole time, if you want me to talk to anyone, right?" At the sardonic look she adds a bit uncertainly, "Is... there a problem with Shane and my knowing the guys?"

Baird shakes his head, "No, not the whole time -- and having a woman that speaks Arabic would be lovely. Because it's an exfil." He looks around, "Having your lads with you would be good too. The women may need medical attention." His lips twitch at her last query, and he wryly adds, "One of my previous crew is... not welcome on this."

Shane is nearby, and curiously asks, "There any particular reason?"

Cinnamon confusedly adds, "Whose lads?" She blinks as Shane speaks, and grins, "Oh! Shane's lads, got it." Then she nods thoughtfully to herself: they'll have to ask Thorn if he -- wait, this is silly! She glances around -- then brightens and waves Thorn over, "Thorny! Got a moment, please?"

Thorn blinks at the call and comes over. He's still working on splicing a bight into the end of a line, and using a wooden marlinspike to do so. "What's up?" he asks curiously.

Cinnamon grins at the healer, "Hi, Thorn! Baird may have another job for us! Want to listen in while he's talking about it?"

Thorn is well familiar with modern PMC 'jobs.' Still, he trusts Baird and knows the man wouldn't ask them to help on anything squiffy. He nods, "Sure, I'll be glad to." Cinnamon blinks interestedly at what Thorn's doing... then grins -- she knows how to do that too, now! She'll have to thank Fraser later. For now -- and before she forgets -- she quietly pulls out her cell and, with the satlink, starts it downloading language lessons in Arabic.

While Cinnamon is talking to Thorn, Baird rubs a hand over his mouth to cover the smile as he glances at Shane, "You remember the fella that was a bit... disrespectful about Cinnamon, that you had a wee chat with?"

The 'wee chat' had been Shane getting in the fellow's face and explaining that disrespect would not be tolerated. The half-beansidhe snorts and nods, "I remember."

Baird wryly continues, "That would be him. He was in the group I was considering. But he said a few things that made me think he was maybe not cut out for this job." The things the man had actually said had to do with doing something to get back at Shane or Cinnamon, for Shane making him look bad. He'd been laughing about his 'prank' -- and not noticing that most of the other men weren't. Baird and Keiko had both been there, too -- Baird sipping a cup of tea and Keiko sipping sake. The merc continues speaking quietly, a bit glad Cinnamon is distracted, "So, I told the eejit, sure, he could do something like that -- but before he did, he should decide if he wanted to be in a grave or just traction." Shane arches a brow at Baird, silently asking him to go on -- and the merc smirks and shrugs, "I simply explained that if he harmed your lass, you'd likely break several bones in most of his limbs. But if he harmed you -- which is unlikely because honestly, lad, you're three times the fighter he is -- she'd be likely to kill him without meaning to! She's a bit... tender of you."

Shane bites his tongue so he doesn't laugh out loud, "Well, I don't see any lies in what you told him. I did warn him once, after all."

Baird's lips twitch, "Oh, aye -- and a little birdie told me ye've recently demonstrated what happens when someone ignores your warnings." That makes Shane snort.

A moment later Cinnamon grins cheerfully as she says to Baird, "As long as I can completely download the language lessons, I can be ready in... maybe a week? Would that do? Can you tell us more about the job?"

Baird's brows go up. Part of him wants to be incredulous... but then he remembers: he's on a boat crewed by werewolves, on a quest to lift a curse from himself -- and he chuckles as he rubs his face with both hands, "There's a fella got married again recently."

Cinnamon nods interestedly, "In an Arabic-speaking country, right?"

Baird mmms, "And his latest wives, well... let's just say they aren't there of their own free will."

Cinnamon's eyes widen a bit... and then she frowns as she listens very carefully. She knows Shane will be listening for truth, too... good! She expects Baird is being truthful with them, of course, but if someone lied to him... that's something they'll all want to know! Shane's expression is thunderous, "Trafficking?"

Baird nods, "Unfortunately." Thorn frowns, his brow furrowing; he grimaces at Shane's query. Yeah; Thorn knew Baird wouldn't be asking for help on a job that would make the healer feel squiffy. Baird smiles wryly, "There's quite a lot of moving parts on this one, and it'll be after the curse has been lifted -- so I don't expect anything to go horribly wrong. Which is not to say there might not be bloodshed."

Cinnamon blinks at that, glancing a bit worriedly between Shane and Thorn... and even Baird, really. She doesn't want her friends to be hurt! Should they not go? A moment later she realizes, with a tiny thrill of pride: this must be part of why Baird's inviting her along -- she can stand between bullets and her friends! It's a small thought... but it helps the little dragon patch the aching wound in her heart just a little bit more. She's not a waste -- she's smart and useful... and about to learn Arabic, too! Baird smiles, "I've seen all of you in action. Thorn, you've kept people alive that should've been dead three times over. Shane, lad... If I'd had you on half my earlier missions..."

Shane shakes his head with a wry smile, "Sorry. I'm very particular what I use my skills for."

Baird nods, "Fair. Cinnamon, you're... just a treasure."

Cinnamon blinks... then blushes hotly with pleasure, "Oh! Oh, that -- th-that, I mean -- I -- w-wow, th-thank you!" She brings both hands up to her flushed cheeks, ducking a bit against Shane so she doesn't just squeak and run away!

Thorn ducks his head a bit, "Just...." 'Just doing my best' is somewhat lame-sounding, so he says instead, "I'm glad to help. I'm starting to learn more and more about what I can do."

Cinnamon grins at Thorn, "He's amazing! We just have to convince him of that!" She is, of course, utterly un-ironic in that statement... she is, in fact, relieved to shift the spotlight off herself!

Baird nods, "So, the plan is to get in, get the women out, and get out of the sandbox undetected. However," he rubs his face, "You'll all have to dress the part. We'll have to blend."

Cinnamon nods interestedly, "Okay. Um... is that hard or something?"

Thorn looks inquiring, "Keffiyeh and hijab?"

Baird nods to Thorn, "Exactly. Oh, it can be hard. These are not simple houses we're getting into -- they're fortresses."

Cinnamon hmms, then says thoughtfully, "So my speaking the language would be helpful; got it. I'll see if I can pick up a bit of the culture too, okay? Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Baird's face splits into a broad smile. The scars would make it disconcerting to anyone that didn't know him. Or maybe it's the gleam in his eye that would do it, "Oh, aye. You're our escape plan."

Cinnamon laughs at that, "Okay! So... where and when would I be taking off from?" She pauses, frowning suddenly, "Wait... how many folks are we talking here, please? I can only carry six safely on my back. Do you have, um... something like a Jeep or something, with a roll bar over the top? I could grab that and carry more, if so?"

Baird grins wryly, "We're working on the exact mode of transportation. Something sealed, of course. I thought perhaps a shipping container, but those are hard to ventilate."

Cinnamon wrinkles her nose, "Ew, yuck, no! I'd be scared to get into a sealed box like that, if I were being rescued by big scary men with guns! Can't we have, like... maybe a nice moving van or something, with a pleasant sofa inside?"

Baird amusedly replies, "I don't know about a sofa, but a windowless van might work. We need them not to see you." He looks at Thorn and Shane, "These two aren't all that menacing at first look." His eyes glint, "Pretty boys that they are."

Thorn says wryly, "Hopefully not at second or third look, either!"

Cinnamon grins enthusiastically, "They're awesome! -and calming, I bet, to probably scared women!" To Baird she adds firmly, "Something soft and padded inside, that's nice to sit on -- it'll reassure them, I think. If you were just going to do bad things to them, you wouldn't have even tried, right?" She is, alas, speaking from personal experience... even if it was a small abuse compared to what these women have likely suffered.

Shane mmms, "Let's not make it a white windowless van, though."

That makes Baird laugh, "Probably wise."

Cinnamon muses aloud, "Okay, so a van. Is there a way to attach a handle to the top?"

Baird considers, "We'd likely want to sling it in a harness, rather than do something like take it by the luggage rack. We can use one of the nets they use when dropping food supplies in third world countries, or something."

Cinnamon nods interestedly, "Are those really-really sturdy? -and do they have handles?"

Baird smiles, "They can be very sturdy. They're meant to be wrapped around heavy crates for aircraft to carry them into areas that need supplies. So they have to have some way to be connected. We could make handles."

Cinnamon thinks about that for a moment... then nods, "Handles would be good! Something I can grab easily, and not have to scrabble at the van to get my claws into the netting, you know?" Her grin gets wry, "I totally don't want to scare the poor women into thinking something dreadful outside is trying to get them or anything -- I've had nightmares like that!"

Baird smiles, "I've got a fella who's going to be working on it. He saw you in Bulgaria and he's had all kinds of ideas on how a dragon could be a combat aircraft."

Cinnamon blinks at that... then laughs! "Cool! When do I get to meet him again?"

Baird chuckles, "You'll meet him at the mission briefing. He'll show you how whatever he comes up with will work. We'll need to get him some measurements, though I know a lady doesn't like to talk about such things."

Cinnamon brightens, "Oh! No problem -- Shane and Thorn measured me just five or six months ago! I'm 25' long, nose to tail, and my wingspan is 40' tip to tip!"

Baird chuckles, "That's good. But we also need to know circumference... and I'll need sizing for the other clothing."

Cinnamon blinks at that, blushing slightly -- she does not want her human body measured again, darnit. So embarrassing! "B-but... didn't you already figure out that from, um... from when you made the k-kevlar vests for us?"

Baird mms, "Well..." -- and Shane steps in to diplomatically interject, "Why don't you let us know the clothing we need to have made, and we'll get the seamstress that works on Cinnamon's clothes on Coblyn make it. She's already got all the measurements you'd need."

Cinnamon sighs in relief, smiling at Shane, "That'd work for me?"

Shane nods, "We'll do the measurements. Having a harness not fit correctly can be bad under good circumstances, with time to do corrections. Under combat conditions it could be a clusterfff-" his eyes cut to Cinnamon and he clears his throat, "-a cluster of problems." Baird snorts at Shane correcting his language for mixed company. He's been with the lad when it's just warriors or men around, and knows the half-beansidhe's language can be quite earthy. Shane goes on, "Some of the training I did at the trod was having to take the essential tack off one horse and put it on another as quick as possible."

Cinnamon pushes her glasses up, her voice curious, "Why would you want to do that, though? I mean, isn't there... like a saying or something, about not changing horses in the middle of a stream?"

Shane smiles, "Because in a cavalry battle you might have to do that, if your mount goes down and the only other available isn't yet tacked up... or if your mount is lamed but you can make it back to camp and swap to an untacked mount to get back into battle." He shrugs, "Sounds archaic here, but if you make it truly Underhill -- which is really, really rare now -- you might end up in mounted battle."

Cinnamon blinks again in fascination, "You... you have battles with horses and stuff... underground?!"

Shane shakes his head, "No, acushla. 'Underhill' is an old term for crossing into some of the old, deeply hidden fae enclaves." He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck, "There's actually some controversy over whether they still exist, or if they've died out. Or, well, ever existed in the first place."

"Oh." Cinnamon considers that... then shakes her head perplexedly, "But... how would the fae themselves not know if those ever existed? I mean, there's bunches of them that are still alive from then, right? Or... do you mean 'Underhill' in the sense of, say, another entire universe or realm?"

Baird looks fascinated, "As in... are we talking T�r na n�g here, lad?!"

Cinnamon nods interestedly to Baird, "Yeah, that's what I was wondering too!"

Shane mms, "Uhm... they'd be more closely-guarded than the home trods. T�r na n�g. Fiddler's Green. Avalon. �sgard is argued to be something like it, sometimes." He rubs the back of his neck again -- he looks almost bashful! "Saoirse told me about them. Said the last person she knew who claimed to've actually been to one was her mum... who claimed to've visited Fiddler's Green several times."

Cinnamon huhs quietly to herself, making a mental note: along with learning Arabic, she must do more research on 'other' places for the fey! She grins excitedly, "How cool!" The little dragon chatters excitedly with Thorn, Shane, and Baird for a bit more... but when she's hailed by one of the Havvarger to please assist with moving something, she hugs her friends and patters happily off to help. She's enjoying the trip, even despite Marcus' presence!

One morning a few days into the cruise -- when Cinnamon is alone but within sight of a handful of the crew -- Marcus approaches, careful to make sure she can see him coming. The little dragon is neatly curled up in an out-of-the-way, protected corner made by some barrels and the wall of the forecastle. She's absorbed in reading on her laptop -- she's got the first few Arabic lessons downloaded, thanks to her cell phone's satlink! It's quite new, fascinating, and complex to her, so initially she doesn't actually realize Marcus is approaching. By now the elf has realized: it's not that she's missing him speaking -- she's actively ignoring him! So he knows this will be a humbling experience... but it's already been painful. He finds he misses the little dragon's company -- every time he's seen her smiling and laughing with others, he's stabbed a little with remorse.

Marcus gets close and, with unusual forethought, doesn't actually loom. Instead, he crouches and clears his throat. Cinnamon is silently forming the sounds she's reading about... so when someone makes a noise right next to her, she startledly jumps and squeaks! She's a bit embarrassed at herself for the silly noise -- if this is Fraser deliberately teasing her to get her to squeak, she's so going to... going to glare fiercely at him-! But it's not -- it's Marcus -- quite likely the last person she wanted or expected to make silly noises around. That makes her scowl, and firmly look back down at her laptop... and an embarrassed flush creeps up her face. Argh! Why does she always make such stupid noises?! She has no idea, of course, that most of the people currently on the Valkyrie consider her squeaks rather adorable.

Marcus doesn't smile at the squeak despite finding it adorable, because he knows she'd think he was making fun... and she already thinks he was trying to humiliate her, previously. Instead, the elf takes a deep breath, "Cinnamon, I know you're going to pretend I'm not here. You've been doing it the whole voyage. You don't have to acknowledge me." He's flushing because he's really not good at the entire humble thing -- he was raised to be proud of himself and his heritage! This is truly hard for him. However, earlier, his father impressed upon him -- or rather, pretty much browbeat upon him -- that Marcus would have to eat more than a little crow here, "And I know I'm risking Shane's wrath if he sees me over here, but I'm here to do what he said -- I want to apologize. For what I did at the Solstice market. No reason I can give is enough to justify it, so I won't try. But I will say that I was an Arschloch and cruel... and I'm sorry that I did it. You didn't deserve it and I was listening to the wrong people. People that... well... didn't understand and probably won't ever understand what a good and wonderful person you are."

Cinnamon is feeling (though she won't admit it to herself) frightened, jumpy, and upset -- she really doesn't want to be hurt again by Marcus! Consequently she's mentally growling to herself; trying to keep her spirits up and her resolve strong: [Oh, gee, thanks for your permission to not acknowledge you! ...yeah, 'cruel' doesn't really cover it, guy, if you ask me -- which you're not, no surprise there... oh, and now I'm a 'good and wonderful person'?! What was I then, huh?! -and what is this right now? Maybe a speech your actually-nice father made you recite?!]

The Elfenvolk councilor closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "And now I've said that, I'm going to leave you to whatever it is you're doing." He starts to push to his feet, actually bracing for the feel of an enraged Shane's hands on him at any moment. He's really quite lucky Shane is currently belowdecks.

Cinnamon is taken a bit off-guard when Marcus rises and departs... though while he's not facing her, she's willing to glare angrily after him... and then just as angrily remonstrate with herself: [Darnit! Stop staring at his bottom, Cinnamon!] A few seconds later she sighs irritatedly to herself as she realizes: she's feeling too frazzled to study now -- botheration! So, since she can't see Marcus anymore, she closes her laptop and wraps her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees... and just sits for a while, letting her thrashing emotions calm down a little bit.

Elsewhere, Marcus takes a moment or two to himself after speaking with Cinnamon... then goes to find the other metaphorical dragon he has to slay. Shane is down in the hold, helping Alfred with small repairs. As Marcus approaches, he has the wry thought: with these two down here, they'd easily be able to kill him and stash him until the dog watch to toss him overboard... and he might just deserve it. He shakes his head firmly at himself, then clears his throat and asks, "Shane, can I speak with you in private a moment?"

Shane looks up, face impassive. He's usually so easygoing that 'impassive' looks downright menacing to anyone that knows him... though to a stranger it might just look neutral. His voice is flat, "Sure. If Alfred doesn't mind." Alfred assures them both he's fine with that, and clears out, leaving the two young men alone.

Marcus sits on a crate near the door; his eyes flick up to Shane's face and then to the floor, "I just spoke to Cinnamon."

Shane's voice goes from neutral to icy, "Oh, did you now?"

Marcus' eyes go to the other young man's face again as he admits, "Well, I spoke at her, because she's continuing to pretend I don't exist. But I spoke to her to do what you said... and I'm down here to do the other half of it." Shane mmmhms as if he's skeptical... though he's also a bit amazed: he's getting not one hint of a lie off this! Marcus nods, "I won't pretend it came to me easily. My father had to put me on notice when it first happened, and I had to spend a little time listening to Frieda and Albrecht being complete Idioten for a while to realize they were slightly shallower than mud puddles." That makes Shane snort. Marcus takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry I didn't listen and I'm sorry I treated Cinnamon the way I did. I knew it was a... how do they put it? A dick move? -when I did it, but I was..." He considers... then shrugs, "I was being an idiot. It's that simple. I suppose it is sometimes difficult to realize old friends are not necessarily good friends."

Shane blinks slowly at Marcus, "Holy fuck."

Marcus smiles wryly, "What's wrong? Didn't expect that I actually have a soul?"

Shane smirks, "Quinn told me when I first met him that some people think none of the sidhe have souls. What I didn't expect was for you to have the balls to own up to your bullshit." He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair, "I believe you, but don't expect me to go to bat for you. What my acushla decides to do with whatever the hell you said to her is her business, but you and I are... we're not good, but we're neutral." His amber eyes lock on Marcus' blue ones, "For now. You hurt her again and I'll break your nose again. We clear?"

Marcus nods, "Crystal. I would expect no less." Shane nods, then shakes his head, still slightly amazed... and the elf pushes to his feet, "I'll get out of your hair." He slips out.

Alfred comes cautiously back into the hold, "I saw no blood and no bruises...?"

Shane snorts, "That's because he's starting to get his head out of his ass, and gave me no reason to apply any consequences." Then he sighs, "You okay here for a bit?" Alfred nods, and Shane continues, "Good. I'll be back. Just need to check something."

A few minutes later, Shane's on deck, scanning for sign of Cinnamon. When he spots her, he heads for her and quite naturally does the thing Marcus had to deliberately remind himself to do: he crouches gracefully and speaks softly, "Hey, acushla."

Cinnamon's abstracted gaze flicks over to Shane as he approaches... and when he speaks, she mumbles a quiet, "Hey." She's silent for several seconds... and then she sighs, "Marcus apologized." She falls silent again after that, unsure what she thinks of this turn of events.

Shane nods, "So he told me." He's quiet for a moment before adding, "And I got no hints of a lie when he told me about it."

Cinnamon finally mumbles, after a period of Shane quietly watching her, "Think I'm still mad at him, though." She's silent for a few more seconds before she adds almost defiantly, "Not sorry, either!"

Shane nods, "You don't owe him forgiveness. Just because an apology is offered doesn't mean you have to accept it. Even if it's genuine." He rubs a hand over his face, "I told him he and I aren't good, but we're neutral. I'm not sure I forgive him, but I believe he understands what he did was hurtful." He leans in and kisses Cinnamon's cheek. The aim is a little off... or maybe not. Instead of square on the cheek, it's on the corner of her mouth.

Cinnamon shivers slightly at the light touch. Part of her wants to enjoy the delicate kiss... but most of her is still emotionally aching and frightened... and though she doesn't realize it consciously, she doesn't want to associate these emotions with kisses from Shane. So she just closes her eyes and murmurs, "Thank you, Shaney. I... it may be a while b-before I can... c-can be not-twitchy around him..."

In the next few days Cinnamon throws herself into physical labor! She does all the jobs she's asked to do, and asks for more besides. When there are no jobs available -- she is not, after all, the only possible laborer on the Valkyrie -- she tends to do things like climb up into the crows' nest and meticulously clean it out, or peel all the potatoes Alfred will let her. However, even despite her efforts to keep busy and not think at all, the little dragon does end up with a fair amount of downtime... which means she also ends up doing some soul-searching.

It's true Marcus apologized to her -- and from what Cinnamon's been told by others, Shane insisted on a sincere apology for her and him as well before Marcus should ever approach either of them again. However... Cinnamon's also keenly aware that she let Marcus get really deeply through her emotional walls! That... turned out to be a freaking huge mistake. Consequently the little dragon is still desperately fearful of being emotionally stabbed through the heart again... which means she's also afraid to let Marcus at all close. He's just too cute -- too charming -- to her! She's not sure she even knows how to be neutral with him, considering how much she'd let herself daydream about him and Shane, before. As such, therefore... she's not really willing to let him come at all close anymore -- out of fear that her own emotions will betray her, and she'll fall yet again for someone who... honestly doesn't really seem to like her much.

They're still a handful of days from making port, one day, when something almost eerie happens. The sea and wind seem calm but, almost as one, every crewman on board lifts his head and looks off to the north. Thorn is the only one topside; he takes pause and looks around cautiously. He strains his ears trying to hear what the crew are hearing -- or is it hearing? -or something else? He can't tell... so he goes to the nearest crew, asking quietly what it is they sense. It's Rafe, who doesn't speak English -- but Thorn's other almost-constant companion is there as well. Alfred blinks slowly, voice solemn, "The scent on the wind changed."

Right about then the first clouds become visible on the horizon and the strange stillness on deck breaks -- and Fraser roars out, "Lifelines!" The crew scatters -- they have decades of working together. Alfred disappears belowdecks to spread the news and batten down the galley. Other crew move to correct the rigging. The storm anchor is deployed. Arvid seems to be in charge of one half of the crew, Fraser of the other half. Thorn stifles a curse and immediately goes to tie himself off. This is a very sudden storm! But considering this is the North Atlantic in winter, he isn't too surprised. The clouds pile up so fast that it seems like either an illusion or a time-lapse movie... so as he's tying himself off, Thorn shouts belowdecks, "Storm! Lifelines and brace yourselves!"

The shout rouses Baird, Shane, and Marcus to movement -- the three men head upstairs, though Baird insists Keiko stay belowdecks. Despite being a warrior, she's actually hollow-boned even in human form! Aisling too stays below; she's not as good at handling the ship as the others. In her berth, Cinnamon's head jerks up -- was that Thorn yelling anxiously?! She shoves her laptop aside, darting to the door to call a worried, "Thorn? You okay?"

The healer shouts back, "I'm fine! Brace yourselves for a storm! It's coming up fast!"

Cinnamon gives an unwitting, nervous squeak! Turning her head as she yanks on her oilskins, she calls to Aisling (with whom she is bunking), "Ash! Can you shove my laptop into my duffel?! I'm going to go see if I can help!" Aisling does know how to secure the cabins for a storm so, with a nod, she gets to doing so. With that, Cinnamon too darts out of the berth, clambering hastily upstairs after the three men. She's muttering as she goes, "Yuckies, storms... I really don't like bad storms!"

Cinnamon grabs hold of the closest sturdy or tied-down object once she's on deck, shouting over the growing wind to Fraser, "Can I help?!" She's put to work stringing the lifelines along the railings -- and the rain starts coming down as she does. It doesn't start as a sprinkle, though. Instead there are a couple of heavy, fat drops... and then the sky simply opens up. Cinnamon quietly congratulates herself on thinking to grab her rain clothing after Thorn shouted, as she carefully ties the heavy knots, and loops the rope through the sturdiest stanchions. She's extremely mindful of what happened last time, too! So she both double-checks each knot, and runs her fingers along the rope as she goes, checking for any weak spots. She also attaches her own lifeline to her work... and takes periodic breaks to glance up and around. She's making sure no one is, say, getting blown helplessly across the deck! Most of the folks here are strong and careful, of course... but both Marcus and the smallest two or three of the werewolves are actually kind of lightly built!

It's as if thinking makes it so... because despite the fact Marcus is actually doing what he's supposed to, between unclipping the carabineer on his lifeline from one safe point and re-clipping it to the next, Valkyrie hits a swell and yaws dangerously. Much of the crew goes stumbling and falling -- and about six feet away from Cinnamon, Marcus is thrown completely over the railing. The little dragon yelps startledly as the lifeline whips past her, almost hissing in the wind -- but then she registers the critical fact: man overboard! She lunges over to grab wildly at the falling person, whoever they are -- or their rope! She misses the thrashing body, but manages to close one hand around the wickedly whipping rope. Unfortunately, in her desperately flailing grab, she didn't have time to brace herself -- and so, when the man naturally hits the end of the rope hard... she yelps again -- she's getting pulled over too! Her reaction is instinctive and immediate: she changes shape into a dragon. Clawed paws and wing-fingers all grab in wherever they can, and her tail lashes in an attempt to anchor onto something -- anything! -- as she's half-dragged over the side. Simultaneously, the Valkyrie groans and sways hard again... at the sudden addition of a quarter-ton of dragon!

The entire crew, feeling that sickening roll of the ship, starts moving to counterbalance. There's not much chance they'll be able to do it completely -- but Cinnamon, at least, managed to get both a rear paw and a forepaw firmly closed on the creaking railing -- and most importantly, she still has the rope clenched in another forepaw! She manages to stop herself with those grabs, allowing her tail time to lash with prehensile security around... something? She doesn't know it's a mast -- but she's now hanging over the ship's side, keeping it badly tipped! Further, while she has the man's lifeline still securely clenched in her paw-hand, the poor guy is now being dragged underwater, as the Valkyrie continues surging through the increasingly violent surf. Cinnamon takes a deep breath -- okay! First things first: she's secure, so get the guy up and out of the water so he can breath! She stretches out her long neck to loop the lifeline through her clenched teeth -- then raises her head as high as she can in an effort to pull the poor man up and out of the raging ocean! Then Cinnamon tilts her big, triangular head a bit so she can glance downwards -- is the man out of the water? Can she twist her head around so he can grab onto her body, and she can try working her way backwards, back up onto the deck?

The body Cinnamon can see is fairly limp, very soaked, and blond. But he's out of the water -- and she's secure enough to get back on deck. Cinnamon sighs gustily between her teeth, in relief -- then keeps her head held high and over the deck as she slowly and carefully starts backing up. One paw or wing at a time, making sure it's got a good grip before she releases any others... and her tail stays as tight and secure as she can keep it, as she tries to center herself on deck. She glances around hastily between paw movements -- is there anyone she can hand this poor guy off to, who can get him to Thorn for a checkup? In the screaming wind and lurching of the ship, the little dragon simply hasn't had the available brain cells yet to register: this is Marcus she's holding, and has just saved!

By the time Cinnamon gets safely centered back on the deck, there's a small influx of crew. Shane comes skidding across the deck, and Rafe hooks Thorn to him as a second lifeline -- the werewolf knows if someone went overboard then medical intervention is very likely necessary! Someone goes belowdeck for protein. Cinnamon's eyes are glowing in the dim, rain-slashed light, and they widen in worry at sight of Shane skidding towards her! She lowers her head in the hopes that her long neck will keep the half-beansidhe from hitting the railing -- or, worse, also going overboard! She doesn't release her clenched grip on the lifeline of the man she rescued, though, until she's sure everyone is safely back on deck.

Thorn hasn't grabbed his kit -- the important thing is to get the patient down belowdecks, so his aim now is to get the person inside. Shane grabs the lifeline from Cinnamon because her draconic 'hands' aren't as dexterous as his. He clips it to the closest point to keep Marcus actually on the ship until people can get hands on the bedraggled elf -- because the second Thorn and Rafe get to Marcus, they'll be able to whisk him away.

Cinnamon glances around quickly, without moving her head much -- she doesn't want to fling around the person whose lifeline is between her teeth! Only once she's sure everyone is secure does she spit out the rope and give another gusty sigh of relief, "Whew! Got 'im -- wasn't sure I'd be fast enough! Who izzit?" As she speaks, she's tightly folding down her wings so the wind will stop yanking at her, and tucking her feet under herself. Now that both she and the rescued man are safe in the middle of the deck, she doesn't have to stay splayed out flat on the deck in an effort to hold on!

Shane glances down, and can feel himself go pale as he realizes who the panting, trembling form is, that Thorn and Rafe are even now carting away. The half-beansidhe looks up at Cinnamon, keeping his hands on her shoulder -- he knows she'll want to shift soon, and will need food. "Marcus."

Thorn works with Rafe to get Marcus down below into the infirmary. The healer is really glad he double-checked the infirmary's contents recently -- so he knows where things are and that they're all within reach! Once there, he quickly helps treat Marcus's exposure and, most likely, hypothermia. The elf was in the raging, freezing waters for only a short while, but that may have been enough to harm him. Marcus is coughing up water when they get him to the infirmary, but he's awake and shaking violently. Under Thorn's care, and with Rafe doing what he can to assist, the soaked, freezing elf slowly starts to come back to a safe core temperature.

Earlier and up on deck, Cinnamon beams down in relief at Shane -- but at hearing who she rescued, she blinks startledly and her head swings up to stare after the three departing men, all carefully clinging to the ropes and each other. Only once the hatchway is dogged closed after them does she look back down at Shane and shout-murmur over the wing, "Wow! I... don't know if it was a good thing or not that I didn't know!" She thinks about that for a heartbeat... then grins and shakes her head, "Nah. Even if he's a doodyhead, I'd have tried to save him -- especially for Jaeger's sake! So, um..." she looks around for a moment, realizing the deck is almost bare of people, and the wind is doing its best to tear away everything it can. "Hmm... tell you what. How about we go stand by the hatchway downstairs, and you look away, and I'll try shifting there? Then we can just run inside immediately -- 'cause I don't think a tarp would survive out here for long!"

Shane nods and moves with Cinnamon toward the area she wants. He ran upstairs so fast, he didn't even have time to grab his oilskins! The scarlet dragon glances worriedly down at Shane, adding, "Asthore, you're sopping -- you're going to be freezing! Let's get you inside right away!" She gently nudges him with her big nose towards the door, trying to use her bulk to shelter him a bit from the wind... and once he's by the door she frowns to herself. Must get this change right away, and get Shane inside and warm and dry! She takes a deep breath... then almost cheers at how quickly and easily the change comes for her! Swiftly she unlatches the hatchway, "Go, go! I'm right behind you!"

Shane lets himself be nudged hastily downstairs, smiling to himself at being called 'asthore' -- though he's rather sure by now that she's never quite cognizant of saying it aloud. He is starting to shiver, though, much as Cinnamon feared would happen. Still, he figures he can strip, change, and get his oilskins on as long as he doesn't let himself get too soaked for too long. Cinnamon unsnaps their lifelines only once she and Shane are safely through the hatchway -- at which point she slams the door closed again with a small feeling of triumph. Storm: zero -- and them: all the points! They all win again! She hastily hustles Shane along the narrow hallway to his room, "Do you have anything hot to drink? I don't know if we can use the galley in this weather, but, um -- if nothing else, you can come to Ash's and my room, and we'll wrap you up and keep you warm, okay?"

Shane chuckles, shivering a little despite himself -- though he's polite enough to not say a word about Cinnamon and Aisling keeping him warm! "G-got a chemical warmer for t-tea. G-Go check on the guys. Be right there."

Cinnamon firmly shakes her head, bracing both herself and Shane against a wall as the Valkyrie surges and sways around them, "Nuh-uh! Getting you safe to your room first -- Marcus has two really good guys helping him already, so you need some help now too!" She doesn't realize it consciously, but right now she'd rather be with Shane than Marcus anyway. Shane, after all, is the guy who's always cared the most for her! She's silently happy that she can now care for him a little too.

Shane lets himself be herded to his room, where he starts stripping out of his shirt before he really thinks about it -- because it's soggy and bloody cold! Cinnamon reflexively steps into the room with him -- then blinks in shock as... his shirt comes off?! Wait, wait, that's right: she told him to change clothes! She... really shouldn't look though -- she'd absolutely die of mortification if he looked up and she was staring blankly and... oh, drooling or something stupid like that! That thought makes her giggle nervously to herself, and she hastily picks up the dropped wet shirt, folding it quickly to put it someplace where the damp won't damage whatever it's sitting on. She chatters a bit rapidly, out of sheer nerves, "O-once you're safe and warm I'll go see Thorn and see how M-Marcus is doing and then I'll c-come right back and let you and Aisling know, okay?" She's being excruciatingly careful to keep her back to Shane -- despite her incredible curiosity as to whether his bottom half is as brain-blankingly nice looking as his top half!

Shane pulls out a thick-knit aran sweater to replace his sopping shirt -- then realizes his oilskins are hanging on the back of the cabin door, which means he's going to have to close the door to get to them. He glances up and sees Cinnamon has her back to him -- so he quickly changes pants as well -- wet jeans are no damn fun! Then he reaches around the little dragon for his oilskins, "I'm all changed, a ghr�. Hair's wet, but there's nothing I can do for that."

Cinnamon blinks as he grabs the oilskins, "Uh, w-wha... wait, you don't need to go outside, do you?" She adds a moment later, as the comment about wet hair registers: "Towel works...?"

Shane speaks quickly as he tries to get completely dressed as fast as he can, "Lot of hair. I can't even get all of it dry with a towel when I'm fresh out of the shower, acushla."

Cinnamon grins at that! "Certainly is a lot, but... at least a towel to make sure you're not dripping down the collar of your shirt, right?" She hastily grabs the towel she sees hanging to dry, holding it out for him, "Wrap up at least a little bit, okay? Then we'll go to Ash's and my room!"

Shane wrings some of the water out of his hair, then wraps it up in a towel turban, smiling, "Happy?"

Cinnamon beams up at Shane, "Yeah! Okay, let's go -- gotta keep you warm and dry... er, well, at least as dry as we can!" Shane goes with her through the narrow passageways, not arguing yet... though he'll want to go back up to help the crew eventually.

Earlier, in the infirmary, Thorn sighs in relief now that Marcus' temperature is coming back to normal. He bundles up the elf in dry clothing and a blanket, while wet clothing is tossed into a laundry bag. Marcus is still shivering, but it doesn't seem to be the bone-chattering kind. It may simply be that he's finally realizing the unpleasant fact: he could have died out there! Nearby, Rafe is scrubbing at his hair with a towel. Thorn checks on Marcus's consciousness and mental well-being, letting the elf know he's now safe -- despite the still-very-dramatic rolling of the ship! As it turns out, Marcus is a little confused -- thought that's probably just the trauma talking, "Wh-what happened?"

Thorn gently explains, "The ship took a wave on the quarter and rolled badly. You fell off the edge while, I imagine, you were trying to re-seat your safety line." Marcus struggles to slowly sit up, but pauses and blinks as he realizes he's wrapped in a blanket -- and not wearing the clothes he originally had on! Thorn continues, "You were submerged in the ocean, which obviously was very, very cold, and probably briefly knocked you out from the shock. But you're out of danger now. How do you feel?"

Marcus chuckles -- then coughs wetly before finally husking out, "Like a right prat. But... how... why'm I not dead?"

Thorn ohs! "Cinnamon caught you after you'd gone overboard. Don't feel bad, though -- falling overboard can happen to anyone in moments like that." Marcus looks stunned, sitting silently for a few moments as he reflects on still being alive and un-drowned.

Elsewhere, Cinnamon nearly bursts into the room she shares with Aisling, since the ship is flinging around everything that's not fastened down, "Ashl- aack!" The little dragon grabs onto the edge of the hatchway, urging Shane through as she hastily adds, "Sorry! Li'l hard to keep balanced... uh, lessee: Shane's sopping, can you get him dry 'n warm, Marcus inna infirmary, gonna go check on him 'n be right back, okay?" She waits only long enough for Aisling's startled exclamation as the beansidhe reaches for Shane when he enters the room -- and then the little dragon carefully dogs the hatchway closed again. Shane finds himself left to get warmed up, with Aisling -- who strongly agrees with Cinnamon that the half-beansidhe needs to get dry and warm before heading back out into the storm!

One deep breath... and then Cinnamon starts working her way towards the infirmary. She grins wryly to herself at the fortunately-narrow hallways -- at least this means she doesn't get flung as far when the ship catches her off balance! It's a few minutes later before she has much the same result in the infirmary... and as she nearly stumbles through the door she wryly wonders to herself: is the Valkyrie mad at her or something -- and that's why she can't seem to get through a doorway without almost falling over?!

Thorn looks up in surprise as the infirmary door fairly bangs open, expecting someone else in desperate need of help -- then blinks as he realizes it's Cinnamon, "Oh! Careful, there. The storm's still roaring, I take it?"

Cinnamon pants slightly as she loops an arm safely around a wall stanchion. Then she pulls her badly rain-spotted glasses off, muttering to herself, "Stupid mucking rain stupid mucking storm stupid bouncy ship!"

Marcus blinks at the loud and abrupt entry -- but then stands up (albeit a bit shakily) and smiles at Cinnamon. Taking the step or two towards her, he reaches out to touch her face with the hand not holding his blanket closed. He tries to keep his voice low, "I'm... glad you do still care!"

Simultaneously Cinnamon sighs, finally getting a full breath without having it knocked out of her. To Thorn she replies, "Hi, Thorny, salut, Rafael, y-yeah, it's a mess- whoa!" She backs up hastily as someone walks up on her while she can't see clearly... then blinks and reflexively bats aside whatever is coming at her face, "Whu... Marcus? Don't -- don't do that, guy, when I can't see!" She backs up a bit more, feeling a bit herded around, and consequently almost angry, "Stop pushing me! I rescued someone that fell overboard -- I would've done that for anyone!"

Thorn sighs and tries to get the elf to lie back down, "Marcus..." The healer silently shakes his head. Even despite Killa's appalling behavior, Cinnamon apologized for torching the snake-man -- of course she would rescue Marcus!

Cinnamon jams her glasses back onto her face, not quite scowling as she almost snaps, "Thorny, I gotta go, but... I promised Shane and Ash I'd check on things here. Is Marcus okay?"

"Yes," Thorn replies, "he should be okay."

Cinnamon nods once, yanking her hood back into place, "Okay. Good." She turns for the door, adding tersely over her shoulder, "Talk more later. Thanks, Thorny." With that, she's back outside again, and dogging the hatchway door firmly closed. She doesn't quite stomp across the deck towards the hatchway downstairs -- she's not stupid enough to forget to be careful and cautious with her lifeline -- but she really isn't happy with Marcus right now! She takes the time to finish tying off the ropes to the railing, like Fraser asked her to, then checks visually -- is anyone else on deck and/or needing help? However, she also fumes quietly to herself as she works: who does Marcus think he is, expecting her to just... just let him in again like that?! She's not stupid -- she's not going to be fooled again by yet another pretty face! He can damn well prove he's trustworthy before she lets him be that up-close and personal, darnit!

Back in the infirmary, Marcus blinks at Cinnamon's fierce reaction! He's more shocked by it than he was before Cinnamon arrived... so he silently lets himself be led back to his berth. Once there, he nods and lays back down, putting a hand over his eyes to murmur, "I'll just... rest."

Thorn lets out a breath, nodding, "That'll be best for what you've been through. I'll be here."

What few crew are actually on deck seem to have gotten Valkyrie to a storm footing by now. Fraser finds Cinnamon, letting her know she can go down and rest -- they'll be swapping out watches every two hours. The little dragon nods breathlessly to Fraser, shouting over the screaming wind, "Okay! I'll tell Shane too!" Clinging to the lifeline ropes, she makes her way hand over hand to the hatchway... and once she's safely through, she sinks down onto the uppermost stair with a tired sigh. The ship is still pitching, of course... but the abrupt cessation of the deafening, shrieking wind -- the simple ability to breathe easily! -- is an enormous relief. A moment later, after wiping the worst of the rain off her glasses, the little dragon patters slowly and unsteadily through the tossing hallway. She has to shove the bulkhead door closed behind her once she's reached her room, and she turns to tiredly gasp out, "Frazey says we should rest now -- they'll be swapping watches out every two hours!"

Aisling nods, "Good. Everyone will get a little rest that way." She's sitting on her rack and Shane is sitting on the floor, back against the rack while she pulls a brush through his hair. She pauses and her eyes crinkle a little, "I want to go check on everyone. Can you finish this? Hair this long tangles if you don't brush it out once it's been washed." She holds the brush out to Cinnamon.

Cinnamon is hanging onto one of the stanchions with one hand, and trying to get out of her oilskins with the other. She blinks tiredly at the beansidhe woman, then nods, "Uh... sure. Gimme just a moment, though, please? Don't want to shed water all over poor Shane." As she struggles to get the stiff, wet coat over her head, her stomach gives a particularly loud rumble, which causes her to sigh and mutter, "Shut up will you please?! Sorry, peeps..."

Aisling ahhs, "I'll bring you food. You did, after all, turn dragon, didn't you?"

Cinnamon's voice is muffled as she adds, "Better wrap up well, Aisli- uhh... yeah, I did." She sighs a moment later as she emerges from the gleaming-wet yellow slicker, adding, "I... think I have a little bit of jerky left here, but..." her voice is apologetic, "I didn't have time before the storm to get any more food, sorry..." She smiles tiredly at Shane, "At least you're dry and warm now, yeah?"

Aisling smiles, already wrapping up in her own waterproof gear, "I'll stay warm and dry as I can, I promise. A little jerky isn't going to do it. Sit. Relax."

Cinnamon yawns in spite of herself -- then blinks and blushes, "Oogh, sorry about that! Um... yeah, right, brush! Thank you..." She tries not to step or fall on Shane as she moves to Aisling's bunk, though the ship sure doesn't seem to be helping at all! She squeaks startledly as she's almost flung onto the bedding by a particularly virulent lurch -- followed by an annoyed, "Ow! Darnit..." as her body smacks against the wooden wall. She hastily grabs the brush before it goes flying, then scrambles herself back upright, apologizing in profuse embarrassment to poor Shane, "Oh my gosh I'm sorry! I didn't step on you or anything, Shaney, I'm so sorry! -- did I?!"

Shane stands a lot faster than a human ought to be able to. He barely sways as the ship pitches, wrapping his arms around Cinnamon when she's unsteady. He ends up holding her rather closely and smiling down at her, "Why don't I brush your hair instead? You look beat."

Cinnamon blinks a bit blearily up at Shane. Wow... he has the most gorgeous eyelashes! Totally unfair for a guy to have eyelashes like that... and warm arms, mmm... wait, he said something, right? "Uh... w-what?" She blinks again, focusing on Shane's jet-black hair. So pretty! She reaches an absent hand out, "Oh, yeah, hair... is it dry yet? Sure feels nice..."

Shane smiles. His hair is slightly damp still, "Thank you, acushla." He leans in so she can pet it if she wants, "Do you like touching it?"

Cinnamon mms tiredly, relaxing into the security of Shane's holding her -- so much nicer than having the stupid ship throwing her around like a toy on a string! "Uh-huh. 'S soft..." Her brow furrows as it finally registers: his hair's not yet dry, actually -- and Aisling said it tangles if it's not brushed. She tsks tiredly, "Oughta keep brushing it, asthore, or it'll be all knotty... Ash said so!" She glances around, then smiles with unwittingly brilliant sleepiness, "Siddown 'n I'll geddit, 'kay? Gotta brush!"

Shane brushes her hair off her face, "Hmm... you sure you won't just fall over the second you sit down?"

Cinnamon giggles tiredly, "Not 'less th' dumb ship tosses us 'cross the room!" She yawns again, then adds, "Think I wanna bite of jerky first too, 'kay? Can you hand me my backpack? Should be under my bunk?" She tries to carefully sit herself down, braced against one sidewall, so she can brush Shane's hair the same way Aisling was. That, even to her exhaustion-fogged brain, looked like it was really nice to do! Shane sits down on the floor again, but not before helping Cinnamon settle in. He passes her the jerky. That eerie surefootedness of his keeps him from being tossed around as much as someone else might be. Cinnamon smiles up at Shane with that same sleepy sweetness once she's seated, "Thank you!" She settles the jerky firmly next to herself, then waits until Shane too is seated -- eeeee, he's seated between her legs- whoa, stop right there; don't get all excited about this! He was sitting this way for Aisling too, after all! She smiles tiredly as she chews on a piece of jerky, letting her fingers surreptitiously stroke through Shane's soft, long, shining... um, better brush some too, right... she strokes the brush carefully along the gleaming length of hair laid over her jeans-clad thigh, daydreaming a bit guiltily. So pretty! So soft and shiny and dark and soft and... and shining, wow...

Cinnamon remembers to eat maybe two pieces of jerky... but after that she kind of spaces out, playing with her beautiful Shane's beautiful hair... well, okay, he's not really hers... but she can dream a bit right now, right? No one can see, after all... she can daydream about... well, about getting to do this every day, and... and how nice it smells -- smells like Shane! Kinda... warm and... almost a hint of... is that vanilla or patchouli or something? Hm, she should do more scent identification, so she knows what it is she's scenting... and how the dark, shining flow of it falls over her thigh... and she could tangle her fingers in it at night and he wouldn't mind or yank away at all... the little dragon doesn't realize it, but she's slowly running her fingers along with the brush through Shane's hair -- and honestly getting a bit tangled -- while simultaneously fading into sleep, propped against the sidewall of Aisling's berth.

Shane knows he's being petted more than having his hair brushed -- Cinnamon uses him something like a teddy bear or security blanket sometimes. He's more than fine with that! When she drifts off, holding onto his hair, he just tips his head back and to the side against her thigh. He doesn't sleep, but rather goes into a sort of Zen-like guard state... and that's how Aisling finds them when she returns. Her brows go up even as Shane comes more aware. He smiles up at her without moving, voice quiet, "She sort of fell over..."

Aisling mmhmms, "Your hair's more tangled than when I left, lad."

Cinnamon stirs slightly at the low thump of the hatch being dogged closed again, mumbling, "Go'a slee'b, Fra'zrr...!"

Aisling chuckles and raises her voice slightly, "Fraser's on-deck dealing with the storm, Cinnamon. I brought you food." Cinnamon jumps slightly as Aisling's voice coincides with a particularly rough lurch of the ship. She sits up, blinking and looking around -- then flushes bright red in horror. How could she have gotten Shane's hair so... so awfully messed up?! And his head is... he's eeeeektouchingherl-l-leg oh crabcakes he's gonna be so mad! She almost jumps up, nearly spluttering apologies -- and accidentally yanking poor Shane's tangled hair -- as she tries to not let anyone see just how much she was shoving herself on poor Shane! Of course, that's when the Valkyrie lurches hard the other way -- and with a small, horrified yelp Cinnamon trips and falls -- directly across Shane! Shane winces just a little as his hair is pulled, but he doesn't make a sound. He does, however, wrap his arms around Cinnamon tightly to keep her from sliding across the decking in the berth, bracing them both. Aisling isn't as steady as Shane, but she does brace herself enough to keep from tumbling across the floor. It's a good thing the food she brought was all in a bag, and not on a tray or such.

Cinnamon is almost in tears -- dear god, they're both going to be either laughing at her or pissed off at her clumsiness! "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I oof! -- I d-didn't mean t-to squish oh fudge are you okay Shaney sorry sorry...!" She tries to scramble hastily off the poor half-beansidhe, shaking her hair-tangled hand frantically in an effort to hide that she wasn't really just brushing at all.

Shane doesn't actually let her squirm off him, "Whoawhoawhoa! Settle! Ship's still pitching! I'm fine." He reaches with the arm he's not got belted around her to stop her hand shaking around in his hair, "Shhh, it's okay!"

Cinnamon wriggles a bit, not immediately realizing she's being held -- but then she sits up and sniffles miserably, "I... 'm sorry, Shane -- truly! I d-didn't mean to, to make such a mess!" She can't quite bring herself to meet anyone's gaze, though. Will Aisling be so disgusted that she won't want to room with Cinnamon any more? The little dragon sighs -- that'd be both humiliating... but, really, par for the course. How could she have been such a moron as to fall asleep on Shane's hair?!

Aisling smiles and sets the food down beside her friends, "I'm going to go help out... somewhere." Her voice is gentle and holds no kind of censure, "You get some food in you and get some rest, hm? Let Shane take care of you." Cinnamon blinks confusedly up at Aisling -- wow, she... she doesn't sound mad at all! She's really amazing at diploma- wait. What was that about Shane?

Shane nods and smiles, "Will do." Ash pats his hand and heads out, leaving the half-beansidhe and the dragon alone. Shane keeps one arm around Cinnamon in his lap and uses the other to open the bag Aisling brought, "Let's see... some more jerky, but this isn't as dried. Some fruit leather. A canteen." He rubs his cheek against the back of her head, "Water or food first?" He's very glad for his biofeedback training just about now.

Cinnamon rubs her face with the back of one hand while holding her glasses in the other. Her voice is a little thick and muzzy from sleep and confusion, "Y-you're... you're not m-m-mad at me?!"

Shane's voice is soft and quiet, "Not a bit, acushla. I like having you play with my hair and brush it. If it's more tangled, it just means you spend more time detangling it. That's a plus." He rubs his cheek against her head again, then lightly kisses it, trying to make it feel just like another nuzzle so she doesn't freak out.

Cinnamon blinks and slowly puts her glasses back on as she thinks about that... then she says tentatively, "Um... w-water, please? Then food? 'N then I... I c-could maybe fix your hair... m-mess that I made?"

Shane hands Cinnamon the canteen, his smile in his voice, "That works. You ever have anyone brush your hair for you, acushla?"

Cinnamon accepts the canteen and drinks thirstily for several seconds... then sighs in relief as she lowers the canteen and carefully re-seals the top. She thinks about the question for a bit, then nods, "Well... yeah, but... it was always something Mom wanted to get done as fast as possible? That's why I always kept it short, even though she said it made me look like a h-hippo... y'know? So it was always something I could take care of myself." She pauses, thinking about that for a bit longer before she adds with a note of surprise, "I wonder what made me want to let it grow, finally?" She twists a strand of her hair around her fingers -- after surreptitiously untangling Shane's hair from them -- and stares thoughtfully at it, "Maybe... because the color changed? Like, for once, it was actually pretty, you know?"

Shane groans, "God, I hate your parents." He hugs her closely, "You've got lovely hair. It was pretty even before it started changing color." He strokes her head softly and smiles, letting her hear it in his voice, "Would you like me to brush it for you sometime? Maybe while you eat?"

Cinnamon's little snort of laughter is tiny from tiredness, "You don't have to do that, Shaney! It's not your fault I messed up your hair -- though..." She blushes slightly as her stomach rumbles, "Umm... c-could I have some of the food now, actually... please?"

Shane reaches in the bag and brings out the jerky, voice quiet, "Cinnamon, why are you so reluctant to let people do nice things for you?"

Cinnamon blinks a bit startledly back over her shoulder at Shane, as she reflexively accepts the jerky... though she can't see him that well while he's behind her. "Wh-what? No, I wasn't -- I mean, I was trying to be n-nice? I mean... why would anyone want to brush my hair... after I made knots in theirs, you know?"

Shane says quietly, "Because they might like brushing your hair and playing with it?"

Cinnamon sounds confused, "But that- ...but it -- it's just... I mean, it's... just me? Not anyone with -- with beautiful hair like -- like yours?"

Shane's voice is still quiet, partially because he's keeping calm despite his fury at her family and his sadness that it has had such an effect on her, "Your hair is beautiful. Acushla, in a beansidhe trod, someone with your hair would be extraordinary, and I'm just another guy with long black hair."

Cinnamon laughs softly at that, letting her head lean back a bit to rest against Shane as she nibbles jerky and almost dreamily chats with him, "Oh, that's not true -- you have beautiful hair, Shaney! Did you know it almost gleams blue in the sunshine?" She's tired and relaxed enough that it hasn't quite registered for her just how unguarded she's being!

Shane cups the side of Cinnamon's face, "And yours has these highlights like rubies and gold. Why wouldn't I want to touch it?"

Cinnamon frowns as she adds, "Though... Marcus was reaching for it. I don't like being grabbed at. Especially when I can't see, darnit! I didn't have my glasses on." She sighs, adding, "But Thorny and Rafe were there, so he didn't do anything stupid, I guess." She blinks a bit confusedly at Shane. Rubies and gold? She doesn't have any of those in her hair -- she'd know if she did! Sounds pretty, though...

Shane relies on the biofeedback again to keep from tensing up at the idea of Marcus grabbing at her. "I meant that it gleams... and red hair in the sun usually gets little gold streaks. Yours does. But just little glints." He rubs his cheek on her head again.

Cinnamon blinks at a sudden, wonderful thought -- such that she misses part of what Shane says. He doesn't seem annoyed by touching her hair! He almost sounds like... like he's okay with touching it, even? So... what if she traded?! She could offer to let him touch her hair... and then in exchange, maybe he'd let her actually play with his lovely, shining hair! Shane hands Cinnamon more jerky without her asking. He knows how much protein she needs after a shift -- he pays attention. Cinnamon brightens a bit (mostly due to the jerky she's been steadily consuming finally starting to perk her system back up) and asks shyly -- and fairly steadily, despite her excitement, "Wait -- er, I mean, umm... w-well... would you, umm... I, I mean, if... if I, er, b-brushed out your hair... would you... just if you wanted, of course! Don't if you'd rather not! -- b-but maybe... like, sometimes, right? You... y-you could t-touch my hair?!"

Shane's voice is gentle, "Acushla, I want to brush your hair for you... whether or not you brush mine out. But yes, I love having my hair brushed and played with, so I'll take that trade." He's glad she can't quite see his whole face. It's a little painful to him to see how little faith she has in herself.

Cinnamon hesitates, checking Shane's words -- does he really seem okay with this? Or is he just saying it to be nice? Her uncertainty is great enough that she's momentarily forgotten: Shane doesn't lie. She finally nervously decides... this should be okay? It doesn't sound... well, pitying or pressured, to her? She sighs and smiles, "Okay! Though... is it okay if I finish the jerky first, before I brush out the tangles I left in your hair? Sorry..."

Shane's voice is still soft, "Of course. I'm here to take care of you."

Cinnamon smiles at that -- Shane is so sweet! It doesn't occur to her that she doesn't really believe the statement, though. She's just so used to having to go it on her own that, to her, it's one of those kind things you say to be nice... like 'oh, no, that doesn't make you look fat at all!' Of course, she knows better than to ever ask a question like that, but it's still incredibly sweet of Shane to say stuff like he does! So she eats all the jerky Aisling brought, as well as the rest of the little bag she had, and makes a mental note: always have at least two bags of really high protein snacks in her bag, tucked in with the change of clothes! Thank goodness she's strong enough that all the stuff she has to carry now isn't too much... a few minutes later, Cinnamon carefully brushes all the tangles out of Shane's lovely hair... then sighs and smiles, "There you go, Shaney. Thanks for letting me clean up the mess I made."

Shane sits with the thought for a moment and finally says, "Acushla, do you actually think I'm lying to you? You brush so many of the nice things I say about you aside."

Cinnamon blinks at the abrupt change of subject... then smiles again, "I know you don't lie, Shaney." She's never studied cognitive dissonance, so she doesn't realize that's precisely what's going on for her.

Shane smiles and nods, "Okay." He can tell Cinnamon really can't see she's unconsciously accusing him of dishonesty, and she certainly doesn't mean that... so he lets it go. Instead, he lets her spend as much time as she wants untangling his hair... and then he brushes hers out until it's time for him to go on deck for his watch. Cinnamon finds herself pretty much dozing off as Shane brushes her hair. It feels almost shockingly pleasant!

The storm is violent, but relatively short. It's less than twelve hours before they can start unfastening lifelines and checking for any damage. Cinnamon feels much more alert and aware after getting some sleep -- she worked very hard during the storm, after all! Once the swift, short, violent winter storm is over, though, she's happy to help out again. Thorn found the storm to be moderately stressful, not least of which is due to Marcus. However, the sidhe is a good patient after he lies back down, simply resting so Thorn can go through the rest of the storm without any issues. Fortunately there are no further injuries -- the werewolves know exactly what they're doing aboard ship. When the all-clear is given, Thorn busies himself with whatever tasks are needed to ensure there's no serious or lasting damage to the Valkyrie.

Baird actually seems almost invigorated after the storm. Keiko clucks over him in amusement when he's cheerfully singing chanties with the crew, as they go about doing repairs. Cinnamon giggles and sings along -- she likes it when everyone's happy! She doesn't go check on Marcus, though -- honestly, she's a little embarrassed at how mean she was, snapping at him like that. Once Marcus is cleared to go back abovedeck, he does. He makes sure he's dressed warmly, then searches out Fraser to see what he can do to help. The first mate looks him over and rumbles, "You can make sure you don't go over the rails again... and you can help with mending sail."

Cinnamon blinks as she overhears that... then waits until Marcus has left before she sidles up to the big first mate. Her voice is soft and tentative, "Umm... F-Frazey? He... I d-don't think it w-was Marcus' fault that he went overboard...?"

Fraser raises an eyebrow at Cinnamon, "I know that, lass. I say that to anyone who's had an accident. A joke, y'ken?"

Bjarke, standing nearby, snorts amusedly, "He does. When I broke a leg, I asked him what I could do when I came back on duty. He said not to break another leg."

Cinnamon blinks once... then giggles! "Oh, okay! S-sorry, I just, um... well, okay!" She hesitates, then adds in a small burst of honesty, "I... I'm still mad at him but... well, I want to be mad at him for the right reasons, if that makes sense?"

Fraser rests a hand on Cinnamon's shoulder and rumbles quietly, "I'm not mad at him for going over the rails, lass. Accidents happen... an' I understand wantin' the anger to be fer the right reasons." He looks along the ship toward where Marcus is using a bone needle to mend some of the sail torn in the storm, "I think he's young, in some ways."

Cinnamon sighs and relaxes a bit, relieved that Fraser seems to 'get' what she's fumblingly trying to say. She muses silently for a moment before she smiles ruefully up at Fraser, "Well... so am I, I guess." She takes a deep breath, sighing it out gustily... then grins, "Okay! So, what can I help with?" She giggles a bit nervously, adding, "-and please d-don't ask me to not turn into a dragon again?"

Fraser grins, "Please turn into a dragon whenever it's needful, lass. But what I really need is all those lines re-coiled." Cinnamon giggles more sincerely at that! She hugs Fraser tightly first -- then patters over to neatly recoil all the ropes.

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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