The droplets of Elin's blood seeped into the raw bark. The leaves of the saplings there turned a shimmering violet. His tears, as well, were soaked up by the wood, already saturated by saltwater.

The wind howled; the sky swirled and furied with sparks of electricity behind the gray ominous clouds. The water crashed and seethed and hissed against the ship.

Behind him, the maps and papers swirled and fluttered until the door slammed shut, leaving him standing before the vine-encased wheel.



The overgrown deck was rough and none too easy to traverse steadily as the ship rocked beneath them. Though saltwater spray soaked the bushes and saplings and vines and branches, none of it seemed to be affected -- in fact, perhaps the plantlife thrived on it.

The main mast appeared as an old tree with twisting bark and wide leafy branches. Its ropes and rigging were still mostly intact, as was the birds nest at its precipice. The tattered remains of a blue-and-gold flag whipped high above.

At their feet, roots and bark made walking treacherous. Aged, vine-wrapped cannons were lined up along port and starboard. A wide metal grate in the deck allowed a view of the level below, which was just as overgrown as the main deck. The leafy tops of branches stuck out through the holes in the grate.

The fox darted down a flight of stairs, into the Mess Deck.



The mess was long and wide, with boxes and barrels stored at the fore and two dark, open doorways at the aft. Where light shone down through the grate in the ceiling, small trees grew taller and wider, like a small grove in the middle of the floor. Everything here, too, was covered in growing bark and small saplings and twists and webs of vines.

There were more cannons here, and corralled cannon balls. Flowering tables lined the walls, with bark-crusted chests to sit on, and hammocks hung from the ceiling. In the ship's better days the crew would dine and sleep and live here.

The fox skidded around the grove of small trees and galloped toward the back of the room. It stopped beside the last cannon and, swishing its tail, dropped the bunny on top of a padlocked trap door.

Underneath the floor here -- under the trap door -- was the muffled sound of terrified voices, the distinct smell of something burning, and something inhuman screeching in pain.

RRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE



Scraaaeeeeeeiiiii

The beast screeched, reeling, its fanged jaws wide in distress, shaking its head violently in a futile attempt to dislodge the coal in its watering red eye.

ik-ik-ik-ik-ik

It dropped to the floor in front of the door; its massive, black-scaled body blocked any hope of escape that way, and prevented anyone from getting anywhere near the speaker. A long pink tongue darted out and licked its eye while the beast hissed like an angry cobra. Its eyes seemed even brighter red than before -- but perhaps that was only the irritation from the bits of coal that clung to them.


Fire burst in a shock of bright light out of the pistol; a stream of flame and smoke shot out and engulfed the lizard, which convulsed and screeched bloody murder.

RRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Leaves on the vines nearby caught flame; fire trickled its way up the vines that were wrapped around the gears. Meanwhile the lizard charged blindly forward while the propellant still burned on its scales. The flaming lizard screeched and shook and slammed itself into Risa, knocking her hard into a boiler.

Meanwhile, the lizard's burning scales were lighting still more leaves and vines aflame.

Above them came the distinct sound of creaking footsteps. Someone was walking in the room above.



The book showed Christopher every prominent moment in his life -- and many of his most memorable nightmares. It seemed every page had something more to offer him, some new memory, and some things that didn't seem quite right.

While he was engrossed with the book, thunder rolled overhead. Wind whistled across the opening in the roof. The new light in the room encouraged the saplings and the vines to grow higher, stronger, greener.

Vines crept around Christopher's legs where he knelt on the floor. They tightened around his ankles and knees.

Something under the floor knocked in the same pattern Christopher had used not long before.

Somewhere, distant and faint, an inhuman creature was screeching in pain.



The teddy bear was, peculiarly, nothing special. It was well-worn and well-loved. One ear had been chewed by young teeth. But underneath the bear was a scrawled note, done in a hurry, splattered in old crusted blood:

A NEST OF THEM IN THE HOLD. SEALED OFF THE LOWER DECK. TELL ENGLAND WHAT'S BECOME OF US.

Somewhere far below, an inhuman screech of fury rang out. Thunder roiled.

Christopher was scared senseless by the discovery of the contents of the book in its entirety. With each turn of the page he would have a flashback of each of them. It was everything that was memorable whether it be good or bad they were all there. This was something that he couldn't leave lying around, even though it was pretty impossible for any other person to know they were pertaining to his life. He probably would have spent a lot more time consumed in the darkness that the book had brought rushing back to him if he hadn't noticed a steadily increasing pressure building up at his ankles and his knees. When he shook his head he noticed that the door was open and Sidwell was gone, he looked down at his lower limbs and noticed that there was now vines coiling around him like a snake going in for the kill. He didn't want to die now or in the near future and especially not by freaking vines! He took the book and started hitting the vines and using his other free hand to try and leverage and pry the vines off his legs. After what seemed like an eternity of struggling he managed to get away from the vines.

Given that he was already 'attacked' by the vines he figured that it wasn't really safe for him to be there any longer. He carried the book under his left arm since he was right handed. When he was getting back up off of his knees he heard the rhythmical pattern that he had made before a short while ago. It was quite a rhythm that he would hope anything besides a human could replicate. He decided to make the tap once more so give a little awareness that he was there. --Tap, tap, tap, a second pause, tap, tap, a second pause tap, tap -- He placed his face to the ground and spoke.

" Ummm hello, down there. I don't know how to find you because I haven't left this room yet but I think I have to leave this room since I don't believe that it is safe to be here any longer. I hope that I meet you soon, keep safe. Also before I leave my name is Christopher so that when we meet that you know it is me."

He could feel a change in the temperature in his left hand from where he had broke pretty much all the bones in his hand from when he had dropped one of his dressers that he was working on. This event was depicted in the book he had under his arm. As much as he would love to wait out whatever kind of change was coming, most likely rain given that it was currently mild outside. When he was about to walk out of the room he heard a rumble of thunder which meant that it probably wasn't a good idea to go outside since getting struck by lightning wasn't exactly on his list of things to do list.

"I changed my mind, I swear I heard a rumble of thunder and I can feel that a storm is on its way. I am going to stick it out."

He decided to close the door since he noticed that every little piece of vine that was in the light coming through the door was wiggling around like it was giving it energy to expand. A thought had come across his mind, since he was going to be stuck on this room he decided that he was going to explore what was at the top of the pillar. He carefully placed the book in the waist of his pants so that he could use both hands to climb the ladder that was on the side of the pillar giving access to its top.

When he got to the top the thing that immediately caught his eye was an amazingly crafted telescope, it was unlike any he had ever seen before. It looked like it was handcrafted from extremely rare Ahloki [ey-loh-kee]. It was completely old school since it had levers and cranks to adjust the way that it pointed. Christopher had decided to take a look through it since he was already pointing out of the open ceiling in the room. When he looked outside he was floored for the second time since he was in the room, he couldn't believe what was in the sky approaching the ship that they were on.

Engine Room

"Sweet mother o' Jesus feckin' Christ!"

The last thing Connor had expected to come out of the pistol's muzzle was a tongue of flame that set the creature aflame. He was close enough to the creature to feel the intense heat, and was horrified to see that the creature was still very much alive. It's cry of pain was grating on Connor's ears, and he covered them with his hands in a desperate attempt to block out the noise. Fortunately, the creature did not take the chance to attack him, rather, it ran blindly forward and barreled right into Risa, pushing the two of them against a boiler. In the process, the flames still sticking onto the creature had ignited some of the cables and vines hanging around the room.

"This room's going to go up in fecking flames!" Connor yelled out, hoping whoever was listening in on the other side of the horn could hear him. He only had a split-second to decide between whether or not he should help Risa first or if he should attempt to put out the fires. He felt a slight twinge of shame as his mind lingered more on the former than the latter; while Connor did not want Risa to get hurt, he was not sure if he could in fact do anything to the creature. It had just been blinded by coal and set on fire, and it did not seem to be any worse for wear. In fact, it looked as if all they had managed to do was just piss it off even further.

"Oi! How 'bout you fight someone your own size, ya little shite!" Connor shouted out to the creature, deciding to help the girl. His fear of being left alone in the room was far greater than his fear of fighting the damn thing. He rushed over to the creature, taking care to avoid the burning vines. Those he could not, he simply gave them a rough tug to pull them free from whatever they had been hanging on to. As he neared the creature, he gulped his fear down and tightened his grip on the bayonet. Time to see if it was still as lethal as it should be.

He reached out with a hand and placed it on the creature's shoulders, and summoning whatever strength he had, pulled it off Risa. In the same motion, he plunged his bayonet through the creature's back. He just hoped that it would do at least some good, because if it did not, he was pretty sure that the creature would rip him to shreds before he could do anything else.

Deck. Mess.
At the bottom of the valley in which Innocent's cottage had rested lay a stream which went on to adjoin with the river running through his birthplace, and from it he had always washed and drawn water. Its stones were smooth, browned and muddy and many times through the years he had slipped on them. The familiar memory kept him calm as Sidwell stepped slowly over the spray-damp and uneven tangle of grounded vines looking for a tree to clamber up.

He slipped once as the ship rocked, losing control of his weight without actually falling. An overgrown cylindrical object provided a good strut to balance himself on his windmilling arms, though he couldn't tell what it was, or even what it was made of, for what bronze remained exposed was dark, uneven green with age. Sidwell stepped onto the stairs with gratitude that he had not fallen any further.

The mess had a sense of familiarity to it after his waking room, for here again the light was feeble and the growth was comparatively subdued, for the grate was partially blotted with growth and struggled to illuminate the wide-spun corners of the room. Reminded of his childhood, Sidwell could easily tell the function of the chamber, for though the monastery was more organised with its chests and barrels, the layout of the benches was clearly meant for community, for eating. Sidwell peered into the corners, but his eyes took time to adjust to the dim. If Tamtam was here, she had already gone out of his line of sight.

He took a glance back up the stairs, waiting for the children to come down to safety, wondering if he should go back up and see if they were struggling. He decided to give them a few seconds longer while he observed the room. Some voices waited for him as usual as Sidwell unlidded and peered into the closest barrel, inhaling. The scream and sudden, putrid air of burning oils startled him into tossing the wooden lid and clutching himself, staring around desperately. The voices. The voices of the damned were burning and their demons were screaming. Perhaps the room below him was Hell itself. ...Ubi vermis eorum non moritur et ignis non extinguitur. 'Where the worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched'.

-But I am not in Hell. And the barrel most certainly was not either. Wrapping his arms around the barrel, he threw his shoulder into work and tipped it, almost hurled it across the mess deck. It rolled little but spilled its contents far over the wooden floor, soaking and dripping into the cracks to the room below.

Sidwell stared into the floor with wet feet, struggling to understand what he had tried to do. The worm doesn't die, the fire isn't quenched. What could I do? Slowly his brain tugged the first switch to understanding that the places where souls went were finally corporeal, above abstraction. If he could save himself now, it would not be through abstinence. He looked for another barrel.

"Do ya know where we can find this damn Engine Room?" said the scruffy, scrappy looking Les Mis.

Those eyes. Dayaaaam... She just could not hold gaze with those wild icy blues; too intense for too long. She had to look away as she spoke.“No, I don't but I'mma just follow along--”

“Tam... Tam...” said Neko-Chan, soooooo adorable and complete kawaii finger pushing up at her own nose. He then pointed over at Les Mis and said: “Mosh. Shtay wif Mosh...”

“Awwwwww...! he gunna shtay wif Mosh...!” Tamara-Jane giggled, in the madness of this salty wet and stormy skied heaven, and weirdo dubbed English, the teen actually giggled. And for just a brief moment, the actual chick that lived in Cheerleader, Canada shone through her baby blues as she stared fondly at the exasperated look upon Les Mis when she stared over at the blank eyed look of Neko-Chan here! “And TamTam gunna shtay-shtay with Les Mis here too, yeah-yeah! Soooo... like, hey, Neko-chan, who're you cosplayin' there? Looks soooooo real--”

Of course the voice of the Angelman had to remind her that she was dead. Just had to: “You'll find your fox in heaven if your heart is pure,” Thin black eye-brows slowly raised as she turned to face the big fella. Wows. Like just totes wows... TamTam's eyes glistened and a secret thought bled through her head for just a moment like a little girl waiting expectantly at the window, staring longingly at the driveway.

“Save them, please... amirite? Fo' sho, Angelman...” once more she nodded graciously and followed the fox she thought was not a fox but her dead love in disguise.

Kitsune. A shapeshifter. A spirit, playful, yet purposeful, said LynLyn. But which one was this one? Of goodness of badness. Of Mirth or Malice, was how LynLyn put it. But whatever the case, TamTam would follow and she would find her answer.

From out the maw of the fox, the fuzzy bunny with the strings attached to it fell and flopped to the waiting trapdoor. Twisted and damp, its black bunny eyes stared out accusingly at Tamara-Jane.

This fox. It was both. Mirth and Malice. Both hands shot up to cradle her chin and white heat of pain shot through her as she bumped the cut on her chin. But it sobered her up to the situation.

She was being selfish again. All she could think about was herself. No, TamTam was not stuck up, but sometimes... just sometimes--

“--I hate when you get like that. You should hear your selfish-ass self sometime...!” she mumbled. And she could not help but cry now, bitter waters running down her cheeks like water through the cracks to the deck below. That was one of the last things Crystal-Lynne ever said to her. Before the tears blurred it out from her view, she saw the symbol of her selfishness; the pad lock.

She walked--- no, she bolted past those jangling things on her wild imaginings that LynLyn was out here to grant her salvation and reprieve from guilt. And oh, she was here, but not like how the blue-eyed cheerleader wanted. No. LynLyn did not take Tamara-Jane's crap; she would shove it back into her face. Just like now. Just like how she could have just reached out and grabbed those keys.

And she was sure one of those forsaken iron things would have fit. And like how she pleaded the Angelman, she could have been the one to 'save them.' But all she wanted was what she wanted. All she acted was for her own stupid emotions.

Tamara-Jane stumbled back into the first person behind her as Innocent reached for another barrel. She just could not stand there, leaning into someone else, when she could have done something. She just could not. 'C'mon, TJ, do something! Kick its ass!' Oh, Kaylee...! Miss ya, big sis...

“I-I saw them...! Keys! O-on the door of the mapped up room!!! We have to get them... like 10 minutes ago, err'body! Or just--”

She cut herself off and just shook her head while looking for input from the others. A sinking feeling her belly grew for all she could do right now was hope that the liquid from the barrels would at least stop the burning below deck.

Climbing the ladder Chris found himself in another room. It was more open and there seemed to be quite a few more of the plants growing. Light was creeping in. If there weren't so many more questions he might actually stop and observe them more. He'd never seen a plant grow so quickly. He was hoping to see who had knocked but didn't see anyone ready for that. Not far away was a mobile of the solar system. The Earth appeared to be glowing slightly as if illuminated from inside.

Glancing around he didn't see anyone that could have knocked on the floor. Avoiding the ever growing vines he looked around for anyone else. There seemed to be a route up but he didn't go up just yet. The door was left open like below. Perhaps everyone left like the people he was with a moment ago. The weather was clearly degrading outside and it didn't particularly look inviting.

It was then that he heard the screeching made by some thing. From the sound he wouldn't pin it as a human. This place was becoming progressively stranger and he was beginning to question what was going on. This seemed more like a dream than anything. How else do you explain the bizarre environment and happenings thus far?

Fire crackled and blazed. Gold and red flickers illuminated the smoky stifling room; firelight flashed in reflection on the dented boiler walls and glowed dimly on the oily gears and chains. Heat pushed against Connor's skin and tickled in his throat.

The beast was cold under his hand. The scales scraped his palm as he yanked it away from Risa and plunged his shining blade between its shoulderblades. The bayonet slipped deep into the beast's ribs like a knife through butter.

And then the beast was gone.

In one moment, Connor was a knight slaying the black dragon; in the next, in less than a blink, the room was empty where the lizard had been. As if it had never existed at all. As if the beast itself had only been, simply, a figment of Connor's imagination.

Risa lay bleeding and unconscious in the dent of a boiler, flickers of fire crackling behind her. Vines had reached loosely over her arms and legs. Their white flowers caught the light of the flames.

In another corner, Samira's unmoving leg stuck out from behind another boiler.

Suichiro lay propped against the door, his head bleeding profusely and his eyes staring hollow and vacant.

Only Connor was left standing over them all, relatively unhurt, with a blade that was no longer shining.

Smoke stung his eyes and scraped in his lungs; the flames appeared as a hazy glow in the thick air.



The pungent sour smell of fermented apples spilled and spread and fizzed among the leaves and bark of the mess deck floor, masking the thick musk of smoke from below. Rotten apples and bits of fleshy core rolled and hid under cannons and tables while watery apple-wine flooded the deck and dripped through the fissures between the barky floor panels.

There were indeed more barrels: one full of what appeared to be petrified apricots, the other half-full of pickles, and a third had a human skeleton stuffed inside it, with a curved knife and a belt buckle and a bracelet made of shells.

Below, in the engine room (which was quickly running out of breathable air) it began to rain sour wine. Droplets hissed into the flames and dripped on Connor's head. A section of fire was completely put out by a particularly thick waterfall from the ceiling above it -- but the danger was still very real, and the addition of the stench of rancid wine didn't quite help Connor's ability to breathe.



But Moss wasn't there. Had she been there at all? Tamara's eyes met with a wide vacant room filled with vines and overgrown cannons and boxes and tables, and a thick of saplings growing out of the middle toward the only sunlight in the ceiling. The air was thick with the stench of rancid wine, but there was no longer any smoke rising up out of the floor. For the room below, this was a bad thing.

The fox stared unblinking at Tamara Jane, as if it saw her struggles and only waited for her to realize where the true difficulties lay. Only when Tamara finally looked at the fox again did it spin around once, chasing its fluffy tail before it stared at her again. It was now standing next to a pyramid stack of cannonballs. It licked its jowls, skittered a bit away from a growing puddle of apple wine, glanced at the padlock, and stared again at Tamara.



At first, they were only shimmers in the stormy sky. With some adjustments to the telescope, Christopher might make out a few fleeting glimpses of silvery wings sparking against the dark clouds.

Thunder rolled and shook the ship's walls.

A flash of lightning momentarily blinded Christopher. Another look would show him a tiny silver bird -- one of hundreds that ebbed and flowed among the clouds, flowing together in the sky like currents in water. Veins of lightning sparked bright between them. White glimmers of electricity followed their movements and sparked on their flitting wings.

The sky was darker than it had been before.

With each flash of lightning, Christopher would see the silhouette of a huge shadow behind the swirling clouds.



While Christopher stood atop the pillar above, watching the stormy sky through the lens of the telescope, Chris emerged from the door in the pillar.

The observatory was darkening, and its door was shut; any movement the plantlife therein might have exhibited before had ceased, and an electric sense of waiting filled the air. Wood creaked; the ship rocked.

The orrery on the table began to tick and whirr loudly. The planets moved backwards around the sun, and the Earth glowed bright, a galaxy turning inside its marble surface.

Thunder rumbled again. A flash of lightning coursed through the flock of silver birds outside and sparked bright through the opening in the ceiling.

In the flash of light, Chris would see something standing tall against the wall by the bookcases: it was thin, robed and impossibly high, with a hollow bony face that stared down deep into Chris' soul.

When the lightning was gone, so was the vision. The place where the apparition had stood was empty.

It looked like little silver wings, probably hundreds of them approaching like they were on a mission. It was tough to tell what they were until he twisted a dial and had the telescope magnify closer on the winged beast. When he zoomed in they were quite little silver birds the most eerie feature about them was there solid red eyes, similar to that of an albino. They looked like they were traveling with the menacing cloud, almost like they were a team if that was even possible.

Christopher was looking so close at the birds that be almost missed something that was even more menacing than the silver birds. There was an extremely.huge shadow silhouette that was looming over the thunderstorm and the red-eyed silver birds. When he seen this he stumbled a bit losing grip of his dark book that was now falling the length of the pillar.

The book made contact which was no surprise to Christopher since the book had fallen but it wasn't until the book made contact a second time before he realized that something was a stray. Upon looking over the side of the pillar Christopher had noticed that his book had made contact with the person standing on the floor ... Wait person. He must have entered while he was staring into the telescope but how had he entered, it wouldn't have been the door since the vines hadn't acted up. That was when he noticed that there was a trap door that was opened, how had he not noticed that door. It must have been underneath of the table that he hasn't examined since he was so busy raging against the bookcase.

"Hello down there, I'm sorry about the book I didn't realize that anyone was down there. Were you the one that returned my knock? I don't really have any clue what is happening here. Do you? What's the craziest thing you have ever seen? I bet it will change if you look through this telescope. I'm sorry I talk a lot when I'm nervous aaaaaand right about now is one of those times. Oh by the way my name is Christopher. One more thing can you throw that book back up here ... Please "

He was so nervous after seeing the ominous cloud, red-eyed silver birds and giant shadow that he had no vocal filter at the moment and everything that came to his mind went right out his mouth.

DECK

Moss flinched at the screech, the nightmarish sound that shattered the air and made her grip the hammer tight. Everyone had scattered, the storm was beginning to shout its hateful intentions, and Moss was beginning to get the feeling that they were not the first ones to sail on the wretched ship.

"We should do whatever the fok it takes to make sure we never see what made that bloody sound," she said quietly. It wasn't as if anyone would have heard her over the roar of the world anyway, had she spoken normally.

They needed to be moving, they needed to be getting the people in the Engine room out and away from whatever it was that was down there. She looked around, spying anyone and everyone she could and waving her arms in the air.

“C’mon!” she shouted, forcing her voice through the dense sounds of the storm. “Over here, gather ‘round c’mon!”

Engine Room

Connor, still caught up in the heat of the moment, did not even notice the creature's disappearance until he felt the sudden lack of anything under his hand. His bayonet, which had been buried hilt-deep in the creature just a moment ago, was now just held in front of him, the blade devoid of any blood and the only sign that it had been used in combat being the scratches marring the blade's surface. Once his mind caught up with the situation, Connor staggered back, dropping his weapon. The room still looked the same, but there was no creature, not even the corpse Connor had been expecting to see.

Looking around him, Connor felt his breath catch in his throat and his head spin. The Oriental, Suichiro, looked dead - Connor did not even need to check, he had seen the same vacant look and lifeless eyes before, when he had the misfortune of having to pull the bloated bodies of drowned sailors from the beaches. The other girl, Samira was hidden behind a boiler, with only her leg visible. Connor did not fancy the chances of her being still alive, but he maintained hope.

Above all, however, only one thought went through his mind. Had there really been a creature? There was nothing to tell him that the thing he had just fought ever existed. Could it be that it had all just been a figment of his imagination and that in fact he had just slaughtered those who were trapped in the room with him in a fit of panic? The thought of it was just too much for him to bear and, for the first time in a very, very long time, he doubled over and vomited.

Fucking shite, He thought miserably to himself as he stood back up and wiped his mouth clean with his sleeve. Taking in a deep breath, he took a few uncertain steps towards the still form of Risa. There was only one way to find out if he had indeed killed all these people, and that was to see if the girl was dead with a stab wound through the abdomen. Connor felt his heart race as he dreaded what he was to find, but he steeled himself and pushed on. Much to his relief, as little as it was, the girl was not dead, but unconscious, and her wounds were not at all consistent with the killing blow he had dealt to the creature.

"Come on," Connor muttered as he pulled the girl away from the boiler. He was no physician, but he could tell that she was just barely alive. She was going to need help quick, and Connor was not at all a person who could provide it.

He walked over to the horn and spoke into it again, this time his voice tired and weary. "Engine room again," He began and took in a deep breath to conceal his fear. "Whatever was hammering us is gone, but we have one dead, one possibly dead and another going to be dead if we don't get help soon."

Mess.
Another barrel, a continuing sense of involved urgency, and as Sidwell soon discovered, a considerably flimsy one. The second lid opened with difficulty, unwilling to bare its contents to the world, but he did not relent. The shapes confused him before they settled into the timeless familiarity of a human skull. The man stood still in the rising smell of ancient flesh, softer than cider and subtler than smoke, and more powerfully disorientating than either. He replaced the lid, perhaps out of courtesy.

Oh, but, wait. You're only dead, like the rest of us. Feeling apologetic and rather detached, Sidwell removed the lid again, childlike, and set it aside. It was a kind but pointless gesture. This corpse, unlike himself, did not seem to be feeling very energetic, and clearly hadn't been for quite some time. He raised a hand to see if he could borrow the fellow soul's knife, clearly recalling the overgrown bookshelf and bound stacks of metal balls in his current room, but decided against it. It seemed unlikely that the skeleton would talk back if he asked, and he couldn't possibly take something without permission. This is foolish!

Tuning himself back to his surroundings revealed that the room below was no longer crackling with fire, or not crackling loudly enough to be heard. His eyes were focusing better in the dark. Tracing the outline of the stain of cider on the floor revealed a fox, likely the very same one, backing itself away from a figure he hadn't seen. Tamtam was here, and her stance and voice still read distress. In a perversely refreshing turn of events, however, she knew something, had scratched out valuable information from such a tangled world. Keys on a door, in a mapped-out room. Likely in a room where Tamtam had been before, reachable from the deck above. Keys, of course, which would lead somewhere, beyond the doors at the far end of the mess, and- in an escalating series of assumptions- from there into the burnt room below. It was an oddly phrased instruction, but Innocent was glad to seize upon it.

"I can try to get them. If the room they're in is charted out, it mustn't be too hard to find." And the children are still above deck in the storm. They had gone out of his mind between the fire and the corpse. It would be easy to continue forgetting them, but a new breed of self-doubt was unkindly informing Sidwell that doing so would be unwise. The closer he walked back to the stairs, the more convinced he was that someone was yelling on the deck (The red-hair girl, it must be), and for the first time in months he bent into a shambling run.

He only paused briefly, when the floor-voice started again. Only one, muffled but audible now that the fiery chaos had died down. "...Is gone, but we have one dead ... Dead and another going ... Don't get help..."

Don't get..? Curse these ears. "We are coming," he answered loudly, unsure if the voice needed help or not but determined to find its owner either way. Thunder echoed through the stairs as he went back upwards, steeling himself for the uneven deck, the swaying ship. The sky was darkening.

Holding himself against the wind, it took him several seconds to find the red- and blue-haired children who stood dwarved by the trees even with their arms up. Sidwell waved in response, beckoning widely with his arm. "Come down here! It is better." He was hesitant to leave in search of the mapped room before they had made their way below deck, but he turned his eye back to the observatory. There is a room under the room with the books- I know that- I can search that. Come, children, hurry!

Her nose scrunched up as soon as the smell of the rancid fruits wafted up her nostrils. A rainbow-coloured fingernail tipped hand pinched her nose close as she shook her head and motioned for the Angelman to close it. A half-hearted smile held at her lips while she turned her head and glanced over to see where the FoxyLady had bounded off again. But then the ship lurched and suddenly it became very quiet in here. Uncomfortably quiet.

The inhuman screeching had stopped. And Angelman was peering into another barrel with a look upon his face that just did not sit right with TamTam.

“Hey, hey, Angelman, what is it...?” she asked with a tremble in her voice. But he just quietly put the lid back onto the barrel.

Then just as quietly, he lifted the lid and reached inside. Tamara-Jane took a step backward, mouth agape with horror.

“No, wait! What's in the barrel? Dude! What's in the barrel?!” Baby blues widened as the Angelman slowly extracted the answer from the barrel; it was an old knife and not the dead body that she imagined hid therein waiting to spring on them like a gibbering zombie jack-in-the-box. A gust of relief blew from her pink lips and a hand fell upon her chest to still her racing heart. But then again... wasn't there some other smell intertwined with rotted cider...?

"I can try to get them. If the room they're in is charted out, it mustn't be too hard to find." said the Angelman in regards to the keys she mentioned.

With a polite nod and an enthusiastic grin she answered him, hope shining in her eyes. Then she tucked some wet and unruly midnight hued hair behind an ear then pointed at the FoxyLady seemingly dancing at a pile of big old cannonballs. “And what about her? She seems like she wants us to--”

"Engine room again... Whatever was ... but ... one dead, one ... dead and another ... be dead if we don't get help soon."

“We are coming!” said the Angelman as he made his way to the above deck.

“Okay! FoxyLady! Let's go!” she motioned for the dancing Fox to follow. The dancing Fox near the cannonballs. Big-assed cannonballs. Ones that could shoot the lock open!!! “Yeah-yeah! I get it now! I do! Hells yesh! Hey, Angelman! Hey, hey wait! Like, dude! Wait! I-- awwww!! Fine. I'll do it myself then...”

The shredded and torn up denim jacket she shed, exposing her tummy-revealing white top with the faded print on it. “EAGER BEAVER!!” exclaimed the print, complete with a cheesy looking, smiling beaver face splashed over a red maple leaf. TamTam wiped her hands on her jeans pockets and went about picking up a cannonball. It was about 10kg but she had lifted heavier weights. TamTam worked out. She was a cheerleader afterall! But still she gingerly held the iron thing; the pain from her fall and tumble earlier still throbbed, reminding her to be careful. Thunder grumbled out from the skies above, promising something nasty it seemed.

“Riiiiiight... so how am I supposed to fire this thing anyways...” she muttered as she stared at the rusted out iron backing of the cannon, “and just how do you open this thing—WHOOOAAA!!”

The ship lurched and so did she. The cannonball shotput out of her hands up high and came crashing down. Right smack dab onto the offending implement keeping the others trapped down below.

~CLANGGGG!!!~ Padlock open.

“Yeah... I sooooo meant for that to happen...” A wry sideways glance she gave FoxyLady coupled with a sly wink and spry double-click out the corner of her mouth.

From above deck, she could hear Les Mis and Angelman calling out to each other.

“Hey, I did it, err'body!!!” she yelled out as she scrambled over to undo the pad lock from the iron latch. She plucked it out and held it up over her head triumphantly as she knelt in front of the trapdoor. With a curt nod, she winked a baby blue once more at the Fox. Then she thrust out her chest at the Fox, giving the goodies in her bra a hefty bounce.

“Boob-bump, biyatches! TamTam n' FoxyLady! Awwww yeah-yeah!!” she whooped then with a casual flick of her wrist she tossed the offending implement that used to keep the others trapped down below. “Buh-byeee!!”

It clanked off in the distance as she reached over and grabbed the floppy fuzzy stuffed bunny. She gave it a hearty kiss, smearing its cute face with blood from her cut chin. Gently she put it aside then briskly rubbed her hands together. When she was steeled and focused, TamTam eagerly grasped the iron rings of the trapdoor. Thunder rumbled above again, making the ship shudder.

“Go time, biyatches. Ready?! Okay!” She took a sharp inhale, “ 3, 2, 1, GOOO!!!” and pulled with all her might.

As she struggled, against both the resistance of the trapdoor and the screaming pain from her back and tummy she could not help but notice the Fox staring at her expectantly. “Hey c'mon, chick!” she said through clenched teeth. Taut tummy and back muscles clenched and flexed, arms shivered with the tremendous effort she put forth, “you could help, y'know?! A little bit of--”

The Fox trotted over and nudged at her legs. She was kneeling right on top of the trapdoor.

“Yeah... I knew that. Wait. Wut?! Didja jus roll your eyes at me?!”

The trapdoor swung open and instantly TamTam was choking in the rising smoke. Coughing, she flailed, moving away from the gaping smoking hole in the floor. With a soft thud, the teen landed on her round butt and scrambled backwards clutching at her sore ribs. But she was backing up not because of the smoke. No, it was because of the thing that made the screeching noises. The inhuman thing. She found herself beside the cannonball that she 'sooo intentionally shotput' at the lock. Quickly she grabbed it and scrambled to her feet.

“Hey, hey, come on out!! Come on out!! Wait! But I swear, if you're some kinda' creepy monster, I'mma...” she paused to consider her threat as she stared at the cannonball. Baby blues sparkled with an idea! “I'mma shoot you! Didja' hear that 'whump!' noise down there? That's right! TamTam has a cannon and TamTam soooo not afraid to use it again! Boom-Boom! Yeah-Yeah, I'mma shoot you!”

Dark thin eyebrows arched high as she shrugged, staring at FoxyLady as if to tell her: 'Hey at least I tried, right?' Baby blues popped wide and sparkled once more.

“Oh! And did I mention I have an attack wolf here too! That's right! Huuuuuuge teeth. Snarling too! I say the word and she'll eat you! You dead, son!”

A single calming breath she took as she waited with bubbling nervousness at the gaping hole in the floor. Thunder rolled over the ship once more.

“Uhhh... Helloooo..?”

The new room was worth examining he supposed. Someone had to be up here else there would have been no knocking. No one was immediately visible though so he headed toward the the orrery. The earth had another system inside it which was odd and he leaned in closer, lifting his glasses a bit as they were not that great for seeing up close. In a flash of lightning he caught the figure of, something. It was impossibly tall and didn't seem to have a face. Spinning around to face whatever it was it was gone. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Thinking back he recalled Moss acting rather odd in the room below and that strange screech. Something else was here.

Easing his way back Chris kept an eye out. He suddenly felt an impact on his shoulder in he nearly jumped out of his skin. A second sound on the floor had him scrambling before he saw that it was just a book. That didn't quite comfort him though since he wasn't be the shelf for it to just fall off. Of course hearing someone elses voice from above drew his gaze upward. Who was that, what did he want? The man seemed to ramble a bit, seemingly as frightened as he was. Letting out a sigh of relief to know he wasn't alone he picked up the book. "Oh my god, you scared me half to death." Stopping he caught his breath but glanced around despite the other person in the room. The name gave him a slight chuckle though. "Nice to meet you Christopher. My name is Chris. And I have no idea what's going on. Every time I think I might have an idea it just gets weirder. And I think something is in here so forgive me if I don't make the trip up. I could use a hand with supplies down here though."

Without really thinking about it the young man headed back to the ladder he climbed up in. If they were going to be stuck here he would at least take the food along with him. He also had to find the others and inform them of the message on that bear. By now he really didn't want to put all his chips on this being a dream. Because if he was somehow wrong then he was going to regret not being prepared. He set the book down by the door and slid down.

Whilst gathering things up he noticed a smell in the air. Smoke? Fire on a ship was bad news. It was permeating through the floor below. Crap, best to find whoever was left then. He yelled up to the man in the other room. "I think we may have a fire onboard. Get out on deck before you get trapped!" Grabbing the metal box from earlier Chris tossed in in one of the bags and headed out the door. Hopefully Christopher wasn't far behind.

Not the the deck was all that inviting, at the very least it had less chance of surrounding him in flames. He had managed to catch someone else heading below decks. He glanced around for a dingey should they need to abandon ship. Such a thing would not be a great option in this weather but it would beat floating on driftwood.

"Nice to meet you Christopher. My name is Chris. And I have no idea what's going on. Every time I think I might have an idea it just gets weirder. And I think something is in here so forgive me if I don't make the trip up. I could use a hand with supplies down here though"

Without having much of a chance anything Chris had taken off down the ladder. Down their truly sounded good at the moment especially given the fact that whatever was coming had access to him through the opening in the ceiling for the telescope lense. He didn't want to have a delightful encounter with whatever they were. While he was having this debate in his mind Chris had already taken off down the compartment that lead downstairs. Christopher had decided to go downstairs with Chris and when he went down the stairs he closed the hatch behind him. He got into the room that has been covered in maps, literally dozens of them. He grabbed a few of them hoping that it might give some sort of sense of geographic location. He placed them inside of his book that was again in his possession.

He grabbed a burlap sack and surveyed the room thinking what would be the most useful but then his nose noticed what Chris had just spoke about, the smell of smoke. This really wasn't going to be a good mix, a fire on this ship and whatever was coming their way. He was starting to feel like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He went to the entrance of the map room and looked out on the deck with Chris. He didn't want to go too far out in open in case those red eyed silver birds came or worse. He figured he would stick nearby Chris so they could help each other if need be.

Engine Room/Mess

Connor sat, slumped against the unused boiler beside Risa, his heading hanging low as he contemplated his current situation. Just yesterday, the greatest worry in his life was whether or not there would be a surprise mobilization, or whether war would suddenly break out between the British Empire and the Kalmar Union, thus requiring him to actually prepare for a real, blood-and-steel fight. Now, that all seemed like such minor worries. Not only was he stuck somewhere that could possibly be another world, he had to deal with the fact that he could have actually maimed or even killed the few people he had been trapped with.

The wounds did not match up, yes, but that did little to silence the nagging voice in his head. According to it, the creature had been nothing more than the product of stress, panic and his over-active imagination. "Quiet," Connor murmured and buried his face in his hands. This was not a situation he had prepared for, and aside from murderers, who could prepare for a situation where one had the blood of possibly three lives on their hands?

Suddenly, a creaking sound from above alerted him, and Connor sprung to his feet, but not before snatching up the bayonet he had earlier dropped. Looking up, he saw the trap door opening and the silhouette of a girl looking down at him.

“Hey, hey, come on out!! Come on out!! Wait! But I swear, if you're some kinda' creepy monster, I'mma...” she paused to consider her threat as she stared at the cannonball. Baby blues sparkled with an idea! “I'mma shoot you! Didja' hear that 'whump!' noise down there? That's right! TamTam has a cannon and TamTam soooo not afraid to use it again! Boom-Boom! Yeah-Yeah, I'mma shoot you!”

Dark thin eyebrows arched high as she shrugged, staring at FoxyLady as if to tell her: 'Hey at least I tried, right?' Baby blues popped wide and sparkled once more.

“Oh! And did I mention I have an attack wolf here too! That's right! Huuuuuuge teeth. Snarling too! I say the word and she'll eat you! You dead, son!”

A single calming breath she took as she waited with bubbling nervousness at the gaping hole in the floor. Thunder rolled over the ship once more.

“Uhhh... Helloooo..?”

The girl sounded very lively, that much Connor could tell, but in his dazed state, he still was not sure whether or not this was just another product of his mind. Still, deciding that he had very little to lose, he walked over to the ladder and slowly climbed up. Only then did he fully realize just how much he had exerted himself during the fight. His legs, and especially his arms, ached from the sudden exertion after such a long period of disuse. Mobilizations on the Shetlands were painless and rather boring affairs; he would show up with his rifle, stand in the firing line and fire off a few rounds into the ocean, march around for a bit and that was it.

Once he climbed through the trapdoor, and dropped to the floor, overly-glad that he was finally out of the accursed room. He took in a deep breath, then looked at the girl who had spoken to him through the trap door. She looked almost as pale as those who claimed Viking descent in the Shetlands, though he found it hard to tell her age, or where exactly she came from. "Others," He said numbly, pointing down to the engine room through the trap door. "There were others with me, but I don't know if they're still alive. The girl by the boiler...She was barely living when I climbed up."

He got to his feet. "I'm sorry for asking you this, lass, but I need help to bring them up. I cannot in good faith leave them down there."

The cannonball rolled away from her and stopped abruptly when it got caught in a tangle of roots and shoots. Smoke filled the Mess. Baby blues held open wide. Thunder rolled over top again.

In her slice of Heaven, it just got real.

Out the trapdoor he emerged, and the gruff looking stranger toppled over, smoke still wisping away from his clothes. The fear and stupor broke as soon as she saw it was not a monster and TamTam rushed over to see if he was okay. She knelt beside him and her tummy and back groaned in pain as she held him up by his broad shoulders. The Smokie smelling dude spoke to her with a voice aching with fatigue and with a tinge of desperation.

"There were others with me, but I don't know if they're still alive. The girl by the boiler...She was barely living when I climbed up."

Into her raven-haired head it was sinking in. Finally. This was not a land of utopia. People were dead here. Dead in Heaven.

A chill blazed down her spine and she shuddered. Wide eyed, she turned about and caught the amber gaze of the Fox. The one and the same one that sent her selfish-teenaged-ass over here. LynLyn...? Maybe. Maybe not, but the amber gaze of the Fox was enough to settle the turmoil in her head. A curt nod she gave the four-footed guide and she turned around, eyes closed.

A single steeling breath she took. When her baby blues opened, they had a look that was less frightened than before. The stranger rolled forward and she felt him strain to get up. TamTam rose with him as she helped him to his feet.

“Hey, mister, its okay, 'kay? We heard you all yelling through the tubie thingies,” the teen barely hid the trembling in her voice, “I gots you, yeah-yeah... I do.”

Thunder boomed out once more a she held him up a bit longer as the ship lurched once more. Then as soon as she felt he was steady enough, she let go of her grasp upon him.

"I'm sorry for asking you this, lass, but I need help to bring them up. I cannot in good faith leave them down there."

“I will. Yeah-yeah. My name is TamTam. There's others here too, 'kay? There's Angelman, Mosh, Neko-chan and Interlulz and... I think that's it. They're good people. Like, they're all weird... but still good peeps... yeah-yeah.”

A few nods of her head and an encouraging smile she gave the Smokie smelling dude. Oh, she was scared, but she did find a bit of relief since this guy was decently built and he wanted to help some hurt people... or even... dying people.. Save them. Please.

Right.

Once more she turned back to meet the amber eyes of the four-footed guide. “Hey FoxyLady, I'm going in. Can ya help us out a bit too? We need to find people down there and... I... I... I'm scared. I'm soooooo scared...”

Once more she shivered but not from the cold. Her mouth went dry. Water. I just want a cup of clean, ol' regular tap water right about now... But that was not going to happen and she knew it.

Once more she took a steeling breath, but her exhale was rather shaky. Wut. Evs. “Okay, let's go, Smokie,” she called over to him, “I'mma help you. I'mma help them. We gonna save them. Please. Hells yesh...!”

Her bravado was soon turned into a coughing, anxious, trembling mass of 18 year old girl as they descended the steps into the dimly lit smoky room below. White sneaker squeaked and baby blues shot wide open again. TamTam came to an abrupt stop near the bottom of the steps.

“Dayyyaaam...” she said in a hushed but harsh whisper, “tell me that... that thing that was screeching earlier ain't here. Please. Tell me it ain't here, mister...”

But regardless of what he said, she suddenly found a strange rush of adrenaline surge through her. Baby blues widened at the sight of the woman lying near a giant metal cylinder with tubies thing. Vines covering her obscured her face but there was some kind of strange serenity seeing her prone form lay there, lined with flowers and foliage lit morning orange by the blaze beyond.

“Hey-hey! Hey, Smokie! I see one! I see one!” she yelled out and leapt the distance of the remaining steps, landed rather gracefully then bounded nimbly away to the woman by the boiler, hunched over and coughing. Tamara-Jane came to a skidding halt upon her knees. And just like the print on her cropped white top; like an Eager Beaver!! rainbow coloured finger tipped hands began to hastily tear away at the vines and flowers coiled around the woman.

“Hey, lady! Hey-hey! My name is Tamara-Jane Winstanley and I'mma save you, 'kay? Just hold tight. Please hold tight!”

And please oh, please, oh, please, oh, please, still be alive.

Having seen some gow below deck Chris headed that way. The weather out here had turned quite ugly and he had no intention of being outside longer than he had to. Fighting the wind and the rocking of the ship he trudged forward, checking over his shoulder to be sure that Christopher didn't get bowled over. Ocean spray beating up over the railing it slapped them in the face. Coming up to where he had seen them go he tossed the things he was holding down in a clear spot and waited half way down to take the things off the hands of his companion so he would have it easier getting down.


Once out of the torrent he was met first by a powerful smell of vinegar. Only after the initial burning sensation did he realize that a barrel had been dumped on the ground that held a brine. While not pleasant it wouldn't kill him. Someone had come up from the beck below, which seemed to be the source of the smoke smell. But as they weren't panicing he figured they had solved the problem. After a few moments he put two and two together and concluded that that was why the container had been emptied. If only they had been able to find a better thing to dump.

Brushing salt water from his brow he advanced to the hatch, Tam Tam was there, denoted by her usual yelling. People were down there huh? "Hold on, I'll help get them out." Looking back he motioned those that were there. "I'll get them part way up, I'll need you to lift them out. Got it?" Stepping down he made his way around carefully. It wasn't terribly well lit down here.

Mess/Engine Room

Connor recalled the first time he ever saw a dead body. It had been a dismal day, complete with grey clouds and a light, freezing drizzle that chilled him to the bone. He had been dispatched out to one of the many uninhabited archipelagos to investigate a fishing trawler that had foundered in the shallow waters around one of the plentiful tiny islands. The ship's hull had been pitted with rot and slowly-expanding colonies of barnacles and the sails were little more that rags desperately clinging onto the yard. The sight and smell of the bloated, rotting and partially eaten bodies had made Connor throw up and swear that he would never see a sight more discomforting.

The thought was brought to the forefront of his mind as now, as he stood in the engine room, he felt an even greater pull at his heart as he saw the still bodies of those that had been trapped with him. No, their bodies were far less decayed and mutilated than those he found in the trawler, but oddly enough, he felt a lot more for them than the fishermen. It did not make sense to Connor, and he doubted that it ever would. Perhaps it was all to do with the fact that he actually talked to and at some level, knew those in the engine room.

With a shake of his head and a mental shrug, Connor set about pulling the bodies towards the ladder. "Thank you," He said to the other man who had climbed down with him. Granted, in hindsight it would have been better for Connor to stay up there to assist with pulling the bodies up and out, but for a reason that he himself could not discern, he felt the need to return to the engine room. A series of coughs alerted him and he rushed over to the boiler where Risa was still leaning against. He immediately rushed to her and knelt opposite the girl who had opened the trapdoor. TamTam, she had introduced herself. People in the future certainly have odd names, Connor figured.

"Feckin' hell, you're still kicking." Connor said, though from the looks of it, that was not going to be the case for long. Spying the pistol-like object that was on the ground beside Risa, Connor picked it up and tucked it into his belt, if not for safekeeping - it was a dangerous item, after all - then just in case. It could turn out to be quite useful in future. "We can't drag her, not while she still breathes, and I can't carry her on my own." Connor said quickly and looked at TamTam. "I'll need a hand. You take her arms, I'll take her feet, we bring her to the ladder."

He paused for a moment as he thought of a way to say the next sentence without sounding too morbid or pessimistic. "Then depending on her...State, we can go from there." Connor said after a few moments of silence, his voice low and his gaze shifted to the floor beside Risa. If there was a God above, and he did answer prayers, then Connor prayed that at least someone in the engine room would live. It was so unlike him to actually pray for someone else's wellbeing - people he had only just met, even - but after the whole debacle with the creature that may or may not have existed, he needed at least one person to be alive so that he could in good faith tell himself that he did the right thing.

Engine Room

Suichiro's vision came back after... he couldn't remember what happened. His head hurt. He felt dizzy. His thoughts were nothing but fog. He blinked his eyes a couple times and tried to clear up his vision. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and noticed that the wet and sticky stuff he wiped off was his own blood. His head especially on the right side hurt really bad and he couldn't open his right eye.

"Ohhhhh..." He groaned as he weakly turned his head. "Honey, call an ambulance." He couldn't even hold onto an urgent tone of voice he was so dazed. "I need a doctor. Someone call 119."

He then noticed movement. There were people nearby. He reached towards the movement. "Help. Please." He had completely forgotten where he was or what situation he was in. If he did remember, he didn't have the capacity to react accordingly. Even the names of the people he met here he had forgotten thanks to the blood loss and trauma.

With the last of the vines finally pulled away, she shimmied back so that Smokie could come on over and give a hand. Someone else was talking and moving around in the dimly lit room. Was that Interlulz? It was!

“Okay, 'kay!” she nodded in response to Smokie's commands then coughed some more as she inhaled more smoke. TamTam hooked her short arms around the other woman's armpits and lifted. The pair of them hobbled toward the bright square in the ceiling. Once again the boat lurched and the raven-headed teen almost lost her grip and almost dropped the prone woman, back of head smacking on the hard planks/tree growth at their feet. Almost.

Instead she nodded at Smokie before lowering the woman's top half down gently at the base of the ladder before climbing up.

“Okay, yeah-yeah. I'mma head on up, kay? I'mma be the one to-- hey! Hey, hey! I see another one! Hey, you with the glasses! Interlulz! To your left, there's a dude moving over there! See him?”

She lowered her pointing hand then nodded once more at Smokie. Up the ladder she quickly scrambled; the pain in her tummy and back were easy to ignore with her adrenaline roiling and boiling through her body. Then peering out when she got to the top, she saw her blood-smeared bunny and FoxyLady there.

“Hey, hey, lady...” she said and could not help but smile at the amber eyed beauty, “...the fire's still going on down there! Can ya find someone... like anyone and get them to help out please? Like grab a bucket or something too, FoxyLady? Please?”

She tossed a baby blue eyed wink at the four-footed guide and made a double-clicking noise out the corner of her mouth before turning around and flopping onto her belly. TamTam peered down below at Smokie and the unconscious lady. Hopefully her 'State' was stable and remained that way throughout their whole ordeal right now.

“I'm at the top now, Interlulz,” she called out into the room below and promptly began coughing again as she inhaled more smoke. She shook her head and re-focused as her baby blues caught Smokie's green ones. Her head pulled back slightly as she had been smacked. The Irishman's eyes were much livelier now and hella intense; there was no way he would let this woman die, said his eyes. To that TamTam slowly nodded in response as thunder once more boomed out in the angry and swirling skies above them.

“Alright, Smokie...” she said as she lowered her rainbow-tipped finger nailed hands into the opening in the floor, “I'm ready when you are... Hells yesh. Let's do dis...!”