Luna tried not to get irritated by Constance, but god, did the woman ever just..."Shut up" She hated realised she said that outloud until she heard her voice, like a whip cracking in the night, it was louder then it should be, and she grtimaced, running a hand through her short, croppy hair. she cursed to herself, still holding her rock, as they continued on their way. She found it strange that someone would reach out to her for reassurance, and she spared Constance a glance, some part of her softening towards the woman. Not everyone can hide their fear well. She's just trying to deal with this the only way she knows. Still, she found the woman frustrating. "its going to be okay, Constance. We survived the storms. We survived the fire. We can do this" She said softly to the other woman.

She had to say, she was a little relieved as Armas reached them, coming level with her, she took reassurance from his presence. Mostly because it wouldn't be just her and constance against...whatever it was. She was always relieved to have his light, even if it still revealed darkness. Suddenly, there was light, and luna glanced about, suddenly more than scared. Was there something beyound absolutely terrified? If there was, Luna didn't want to know what the world was. She was bat crap scared, and she must have been bat crap crazy to continue following the strange man being dragged along by...

oh, god, was that some sort of Massive cat beast? She swallowed, clutching at her rock like it was the only thing in the world that could save her, knowing how foolish that was, when it was against something this frigging huge and monsterous. Knowing that she was small and not particularly strong, that she was weary after the days adventures, and this beast...this beast, whatever it was, was definetely ready to eat them.

"Oh, Fuck"

It was said quite calmly, her voice even, that for a moment, Luna was sure it had come from Constance, and not herself, but it had been her voice. Swallowing, Luna licked her lips, and moved smoothly as the creature leapt, out of its way, she stumbled, and let herself fall, rolling with the momentum, she was up quickly, grimacing at the few scrapes she recieved, but not worried about them, right now, but rather the big-ass ball of monsters still barrelling arround them.

"Nope. Just the rock" She said, well aware of how ridicilous that sounded, but it really was the only weapon she had. She hadn't even thought to grab something to defend themselves, and she realised how foolish that was. She cursed again, looking to Constance, realising she hadn't thought about the woman as she had flung her away from herself, as the monster had lept towards them. She looked around for Armas away, her heart in her throat as she tried to make sure everyone was alright. She held onto the rock, clutching it so hard her knuckles were white, but refusing to let it go.

Constance had sworn, too, when the beast had come into view thanks to Armas’s lantern, but her voice had been caught in her throat and a near inaudible squeak was all that had come out. She felt her stomach tighten with fear. Back on the Isles, she could put on a brave face and pretend that nothing frightened her, because back then there was nothing that could scare her; it was wonderful how many of her real fears could be solved with a fistful of dollars. Until recently, at least. Out here, well, she couldn’t throw bills at a tidal wave or a cave beast; she doubted either things had interest in material wealth, unfortunately. It was like she was poor yet again, back on the streets of the Bottoms. Back then the only thing that kept her alive was her fear; in it way, it was kind of nice to have it back.

And, thankfully, it hadn’t paralyzed her.

She was already reaching inside of her jacket when Ed shouted something about one of them bringing a gun, her fingers shaking as she unbuckled the holster and withdrew the pistol. It was surprising plain and utilitarian in design for a gun carried by a woman like Constance, but then again the person she had acquired it from wasn’t really an artisanal gunsmith. Still, she knew how to use it and knew that it shot well, at least when it came to murdering glass bottles. As she fired it made an explosive roar that rivaled the one from the beast, the painfully loud noise echoing off of the walls of the cave. She squeezed the trigger again, knowing that even if she hit it the first time something that big wouldn’t go down so easily. However, she wouldn’t be the one to find out if she had succeeded, because when she fired guns she tended to stand still—and the beast had leapt right at her.

There was a moment of complete clarity as Constance felt her body lift off of the ground and soar through the air as the beast batted her with it’s paw, its claws raking through her clothing and then a little deeper. She thought of how hard it would be to get the blood out and prayed the scars wouldn’t be too bad. She thought that Luna had been closer to her, and wondered why the nurse hadn’t pushed her out of harm’s way. She thought how the gun had left her hands and hoped that it hadn’t been broken when it clattered to the ground near Armas. And lastly she thought of how much it was going to hurt when she hit the wall of the cave, and it wasn’t long before she was proven right, a piercing scream ripped from her lungs as she collapsed to the floor, her vision blurring as her side erupted into pain.

She decided then, as she was wheezing on the floor of the cave and gripping her side, that whatever name she gave to the beast would most certainly not be a flattering one.

Armas stared up at the great cat in the middle of the cavern in terrified awe. The beast was as tall him at the shoulder, all bristling fur and rippling muscle. The fangs protruding from the great jaw looked as long as his forearm. It growled, low and threatening, and Armas felt it in the pit of his stomach as the sound reverberated off the walls of the cavern. The strange magician was behind the great cat, held in the air by one of it's tails, the other twitching side to side.

"Son of a bit..." Armas breathed.

The tail holding the man uncurled, dropping him to the ground with a grunt. Armas just had time to register the change in the cat's stance before it leaped at them. Armas dived to one side as hundreds of kilograms of fur and muscle came flying towards them, missing Edward by mere miraculous inches. The lantern swung wildly, casting crazy shadows as the cat slid to a halt on the stone floor. Edward was yelling something about a gun as it turned to face the women.

Constance a pulled a gun from somewhere, a blocky looking thing of hard grey metal. She pulled the trigger once - twice - as the beast leaped at her, the explosive roar of the gun echoing of the sides of the chamber and leaving a ringing in his ears. Luna dived to one side, and the cat swiped at Constance, sending her crashing into the cave wall with a terrible scream. The gun clattered to the floor, bouncing in his direction.

The cat seemed to pause, deciding it's next move and Armas went for the gun, dropping the stupid stick he'd picked up earlier. He wasn't much of a shot, but he knew which end the bullet came out of, a relic of shooting cans off the side of the fishing boat during lazy afternoons.

"Grab them!" he shouted, indicating the magician and the injured Constance with the lantern, making the light in the cave dance wildly again. He pointed the gun at the cat praying it still worked after the fall and squeezed the trigger. He had no idea if it could actually hurt the beast, but hopefully it would convince it they were too much trouble. The gun went off with another terrific bang. "Come on let's go!"

[ R U N L I K E H E L L ]

To Edward's horror, the tiny gun's bullets only seemed to irritate the beast. Each one penetrated the flesh of the monster -- it was a gun after all, and few things were bulletproof -- but after a series of pained, piercing screeches, the cat only seemed more enraged. They had very little time.

"Back the way we came!" he shrieked, his voice entirely too shrill for his own self respect. There was nothing but blinding terror in his heart, at least until he slammed into the strange magician man from before. "Plummet!" he hissed, grabbing the magician by his silly costume. "Let's go, creep!"

Adrenaline and cold-blood fear gave Edward all the energy he needed. Trusting Luna and Armas to get Constance to safety was about as much as he could hope for, as fight-or-flight gave wings to his feet and iron-will to his arm muscles. Half guiding, half carrying the man, he sprinted toward the exit to the cave. At least, he thought it was the exit.

Unfortunately, the cat noticed them -- little maggots -- fleeing its domain. With a roar it leapt after them, but hissed with surprise as it stumbled to one side. One of the burning hot wounds had been in its hind leg, preventing the monster from leaping. For a moment, Edward glanced back. A pang of sympathy somehow shot through him. They had come to this creature's home unannounced, and now they were hurting it.

This was not what he had wanted to do out here. Hurting the beings they encountered had never been part of the plan.

Then the animal started using its massive tails to air in its walking, and Edward's terror began anew. The beast was much slower, now, but it was still chasing them. "Come on!" He shouted again, pulling on his new...friend. They fled together, with Edward in the lead. Twisting and turning tunnel was all he saw -- had it really been this long on the way in?

Another roar echoed out from behind them, and Edward's heart actually skipped a beat. He rounded the corner even faster than he had thought possible, and blessed light stung his eyes. "Almost there!" he shouted, throwing himself forward with renewed vigor.

They tripped out into the light to see Conway and several others standing there, including Krauss. "Oh thank God!" gasped Ed, before another bellow from the cave kickstarted his fear once more. He screamed.

"Get behind us, ya fools!" Roared captain Conway. Edward lurched forward, still screaming. The captain hefted a firearm entirely too large to be healthy, as did two of the sailor-soldiers. With a crack like thunder, each one fired. Caught off-guard by the sudden fire and pain, the giant cat-beast twitched in mid-air from the shots, life leaving its body even before it crashed to the dirt. By the time it had finished sliding, it was right up against Conway's boots.

He stepped back with a wretched sound, staring down at the beast with wide eyes. "Where in tha blasted fuckin' hells of our nine mothers did ya find that?" He glanced back toward the cave entrance. "Ya didn't. Ya're all a buncha cockspawns."

"I'm ssssorry, cap-tain," wheezed Ed, finally forming words from his exhalations. "We heard a noise...it...it was that guy." He pointed at the magician. "Idiot got swept up by that thing, and we had to go in and try to save him."

"Oh, didja now?" The captain scoffed, handing his gun to one of the soldiers. "Glad yer all big damn heroes, eh?" He snorted. "Save him, my sweet, plum-rose ass. Ya're lucky we could hear tha roars from here, and ya're even more lucky tha' Krauss came back to tell me what was goin' on. Come on, ya lunatics." He stalked off into the cave, mumbling to himself.

Edward followed cautiously, trying not to pass out from the sudden adrenaline crash he was now suffering from. That had been far too close for comfort. When they came back to the room where they had been attacked before, he felt another wave of nausea roll over him. His hands shook, his eyes kept crossing, and the ground felt unstable beneath him. Despite that, he forced himself to keep moving. "Where are we going, sir?" he dared to ask after a while.

Conway waved a hand at one of the soldiers. "See if ya ken help that lass Constance. She looks a mite worse for wear. Luna, you stay as well, yeah? The rest o'ya, come on." He motioned for Krauss, Edward, Armas, the weird magician dude, and the others in the small group to follow him. "There's another tunnel here, ya see," said the man as he disappeared into the blackness.

"An' what do ya bet that -- aha! -- there's somethin' worth seein' in here.

Edward turned a corner and stopped dead in shock. He was promptly slammed into from behind by someone, who cursed and muttered something grim. Edward didn't care. "Why in God's name didn't I bring my camera?" He moaned.



It was patently mind-boggling that the first place they had found was such a magnificent specimen of wonder. In fairness, he reasoned, so were the United Isles: floating continents surrounded by an impossible storm? But this was on a different level entirely. "Just what kind of trip have we gotten ourselves on?" He asked Krauss. Or Armas. Maybe the newcomer. He was in too much awe to really care which.

Luna was many things. While she considered herself strong, she knew she wasn't strong enough to carry a grown woman, cursing, muttering and grimacing, Luna tugged Constance up as gently as she could, panting with the effort she shot out "Pull your damn weight, I can't carry you completely" She shifted so that she was under Constances uninjuried arm, side, "Hop if you bloody well have to" She could drag the other woman, but she didn't think that would do well for her injuries. She should have pushed Constance away. done something other then dive away. "I'm sorry Constance, but you have to move it, damn it" She began to move as best she could, with Constance slowing her down, she felt like she was a turtle, carrying its shell-and boy, no wonder they walked slow.

At Conray's shout, Luna knew she wouldn't be able to get behind them, so instead she flattened herself, and Constance, against the wall. She grimaced at the sounds of the weapons going off, holding Constance to her, she kept her eyes closed. She swallowed, and opened her eyes to see what had happened. Letting out a few slow breaths, Luna shifted, once more supporting Constance's full weight, she was greatful to be able to put the woman down, panting, sweating and just generally exhausted. She took a moment to gather herself, before crouching by Constance, and beginning to check her over, she didn't need the order to stay with her, although she wished she could go with them.

"I want you to tell me what hurts, and if anything hurts when I press on it, okay?" She said, beginning to examine Constance, she didn't care about modesty-what was modesty when compared to finding out if something was serious? She sought to stop any bleeding she found, gently poking bones to feel if there was anything broken, feeling her head to make sure there was no shattering of her skull, running her hands down Constance's shoulder, arm, chest, ribs, hip, with all the skill that came from being a nurse, being efficent, not lingering and managing to keep a border between professional and just down right feeling her up, never Luna's intention.

She wouldn't stop her examination unless Constance screamed bloody murder, and when she was done, Luna shifted, taking out things from her first aid satchel, beginning to do what she could, she kept her attention focused on Constance, and not the dead-please, god, let it be dead-monster, hoping that the others would be caught in even more trouble.

Constance felt her body being tugged and braced herself for the fangs of the beast to come. She had been bitten by the wild dogs that had run the streets of her childhood burg before, but she doubted that their nips would even be comparable to the damage that beast’s jaws were capable of unleashing. However, it was Luna and not the creature that had grabbed ahold of her, and Constance allowed herself to be pulled up by the cursing nurse. The two trudged after the others as they fled, Constance being unusually quiet as Luna lugged her along. She was distracted by how she was yet again clinging to somebody else to help get her out of a crisis: twice in one day. Then again, perhaps she was trying to avoid drawing any attention to the creature that was still chasing after—

It’s over. Constance had been pressed up against the wall again, Luna pushing her flat. Conway and the others had appeared and the cave lit up like her lakeside manor on the night of a party, only with gunfire instead of fireworks. She had felt her ears ring and her teeth clench, saw the beast crumple to the ground in front of the Captain, and allowed herself to be guided to the cold floor of the cave. She let go of the breath she didn’t know that she had been holding and wiped her face. Thank goodness, it’s over. They had killed it. Perhaps someone could get sentimental over how they had just annihilated a completely unknown being, but Constance didn’t care. If she had been feeling better, she probably would’ve considered seeing if someone could skin it and turn it into a rug, but instead she was just happy to be alive. Hurt, but alive.

"I want you to tell me what hurts, and if anything hurts when I press on it, okay?"

“Just a few cuts and bruises,” said Constance through misty eyes, trying to appear tough now that danger was away. “Nothing I haven’t handled before.”

Luna was delicate with her examination, but no amount of practiced care could stop the flaring of red hot pain as the nurse’s hand brushed over her side where a string of three claws had shredded through her jacket. Constance face contorted horribly as all of the blood drained out of it, a screaming rushing up her throat before dying in her mouth and escaping out only as a squeak. Her fingers dug into her thighs as her body went rigid, her head jerking to the side. “I’m fine,” she said, too quickly for it to be true, and motioned Luna to continue her task of patching her up.

She wasn’t fine per se, but aside from the cuts she had only suffered minor bruising to her body and her ego. Even the cuts were fairly shallow, with the material of her jacket providing some sort of protection, although the nurse would be able to tell that they would still require stitching to help with the healing process. Constance kept quiet through the rest of the examination, wincing every now and then as Luna packed her wounds with gauze and wrapped her side tight to staunch the bleeding.

“Thank you,” said Constance softly once Luna was finished, a genuine smile of gratitude on her face. “I owe you.”

She was stabilized, at least for the moment, but it’d be best if she was taken back to the boat, or at least removed from the damned cave so that Luna could get a better look at her wounds. The man Conway had left with them helped her up to her feet and, leaning against his shoulder, Constance began the dejected march back to the campsite. She could hear the excitement in the voices behind her that echoed throughout the cave as they searched deeper, the feeling that she was missing something absolutely fantastic causing her stomach to sink.

Those in the cave continued exploring, and silence fell as they spread further apart. Edward had turned to the magician to ask his name, only to find that the odd man had disappeared. He shook his head with bewilderment. Had that man even been real, or had they all collectively lost their minds somehow? It didn't really mater anymore, since they had all made it out relatively intact. Except for Constance. Out of all of them, she had been the one to get the most hurt from their recent encounter. Poor woman.

Ed was so wrapped up in his thought that he nearly tripped over something on the cave floor, sending a deafening echo back the way he'd come. "Plummet," he hissed, hopping on one foot as he nursed his snubbed foot.

"Ya alright, lad?" called Conway, from somewhere past a series of giant salt columns.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine! Just need to watch where I'm going..." he trailed off as he started paying attention. He was at a wall, and before him was a pile of collapsed salt-rubble. The thing he'd tripped over was right next to the collapse, so he knelt and picked it up, like and good reporter would have.

"What is this?" mumbled Ed, peering closer at the thing. It was a cube in shape, made of multiple inerlocking pieces of what looked like wood. Wood? Of all things? Despite the strange material, it was oddly beautiful, and simultaneously maddening. It was like just looking at the thing was worming confusion into his mind.

One part of the block was not like the rest, however: a metallic bit which stuck out of one side. It looked suspiciously like a switch. Since he had only ever been called curious, and never cautious, he flicked the switch as soon as he recognized what it was. Then he yelped in a very unmanly fashion as the cube screeched. He nearly dropped the thing as it began to hum, but some instinct kept him holding on to it.

Blue light spilled from unseen cracks in the cube, lighting up the air around him. At first, he thought it was trying to kill him. He should have been dead by the time he realized what was happening, but he was still very much alive. Not a trap of death, then. What was it then?

Shapes were outlined in the air before him. Not simple ones like squares or circles, but vast, asymmetric and squiggly shapes. It reminded him of some of the maps he'd studied back at home before heading out. A map? Could it be?

It must have been. On the left side of the map was a set of outlines clustered together, surrounded by what he could only describe as a ring of light-static. The U.I. What else could it be? Of course, he was used to the U.I. being in the center of all the maps, but the shapes all still looked the same. "What in God's name have we gotten ourselves into?" he mumbled.

It looked like the map was centered on a smaller island, which he could only assume was where they were right now. And further to the right...further to the right was several more islands. In fact, one of the outlines was so massive as to go past the edges of the blue light. What kind of island was the huge?

"Edward! What'n the ocean king's whores was that?" Conway and the others clambered up to him, stopping to stare at the blue light. "What is--"

"It's a map, captain!" Edward said, a sudden flurry of excitement breaking into his voice. "I don't know how, or what the hell made this, but it's a map. See, there's the U.I., and I think this is where we are right now." He offered the box to Conway, who gingerly took it and turned it over in his hands. "And to that side is a huge island, sir! Might even be a continent!" He trailed off as he realized that the captain was hardly listening to him at all.

"Whatcha thinking, captain?" asked one of his sailors.

Conway handed Edward back the cube. "I'm thinkin'," he mused, "we have a new headin' for the Garrloch. Ed, hold onta that fer now. See what else you can figgur out about it. Meantime, let's get back ta the ship. Ocean's waitin'."

-----

Back on the water. Edward had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it meant safety from the land monsters. But on the other hand, now that he was away from the exploration, he missed it terribly. He and the others who had first discovered the cave--Armas, Luna, Constance, and Krauss-- had all been crowded together as they went. Luna had been dismissed by Officer Raoul temporarily, and Krauss, having no flights to make, was grounded for now. Constance was wounded, of course, and Armas...Edward wasn't sure why Armas was there.

He toyed idly with the map-cube, flicking it on and off every few seconds. The awkward silence was overwhelming. "So..." he finally said. "Does anyone want to tell me a story? I'm a reporter, remember. I have to have something to write about our intrepid explorers, right?" He tapped his pen against his notebook with some discomfort, trying to shake the feeling that he didn't belong.

"You're not fine, so stop telling me you are when I can see the evidence that you aren't" Luna said, perhaps a bit too harshly, but that was probably due to the conditions she was working in. "You need to work on your reaction time, when something big comes at you, you dive away from it. We can't always keep an eye on everything for you" When she was done, she sighed continuing with her examination, finally standing and getting the officer to help get Constance out the cave. She couldn't very well carrying the woman that far!

Once back at Camp, Luna opened her kit, and said with an apologetic tone "This is going to hurt, but you were thrown so chances are you hit your head, and I don't want to give you pain killers in case you have a concussion, but I have to stitch the wounds shut so you don't bleed out. Let me know if it gets too much" She said softly, regretting what she had to do, but knowing that it needed to be done. who knew when the others would get back? She hoped none of them needed medical treatment with her here. When they made it back to the boat, Luna had Constance taken to the infirmary, where she could watch her.

Finally figuring that enough time had passed that she could risk some pain medication, she made up a tonic, and gave it to Constance, sitting back to wait for the others to come back aboard, hoping that they would all be alright. When everyone returned, Luna was relieved. She bustled around the medbay to make sure it was organised, but it was mostly nit-picking. She didn't particularly want to leave Constance alone-just in case.

Weary, she sat down, wondering what else would happen on their adventure. It certainly had been an elightening time so far. She had learned so much about herself, already. And they certainly had had excitement. The ship being on fire, the storm...the monster...surely there couldn't be much more to experience? yet then, just how far had they come? It was an interesting thought process, and Luna leaned back in her chair.

Constance rested with her back against the railing of the ship, her head turned from the others while she rubbed her finger around the rim of a glass as if she was disinterested by their presence or perhaps just distracted by the beautiful blue sky. Neither were truly the case; in fact, they were both quite the opposite. She was worried that the others might be watching her (funny, considering how normally she was worried that they weren’t), and feared that the slightest grimace would make it appear as if she was badly pained and should be kept bedridden like some sickly child. She could hardly bear the thought of being restricted in her comings and goings, and so she silently prayed that the shade cast upon her face from her hat was enough to hide her expression—which, as the boat rocked gently, was twisted into the face one normally made when they had just unexpectedly taken a drink of water only to find out it had been vodka.

Although, she wouldn’t mind a surprise like that now, considering her glass was now nothing more than tonic water and the slightest hint of salt. Officer Raoul had made it clear that until the set of stitches in Constance’s side were ready to be taken out she would have to avoid any kind of hard spirits; apparently, he was under the impression that they would interfere with the healing process. Constance was tempted to call him on his quackery, but she was able to show some restraint, much like how she was now showing restraint by engaging in dreadful temperance—and it wasn’t just because she was worried that Luna had been sent by the medical officer to make sure that she had listened to his orders. She wanted her wounds to heal properly; she didn’t need any more scars.

Yet whenever Edward flickered on that mystical map of his anyone would be able to notice how quickly Constance’s eyes darted over to the object only to jump away almost immediately as if she was a bashful lovestruck teen. Truth be told, she coveted the map. By all right it should’ve been hers: she was the one who had gone into the cave first (willingly), and it had been her gunshots that had drawn Conway and the others to them (thankfully). She could only imagine what sort of information it had on it, but with Ed constantly fussing with it she could make neither heads or tails of the flashes she saw. Constance was tempted to snatch it right out of his hand; she wasn’t above just taking what she wanted, after all.

Fortunately, Ed had said something that managed to stop her from doing anything drastic, as well as almost immediately drew her out of her silent state of concentration. She turned to the others, tucking a bit of windswept hair behind her ear as she beamed at them, any hints of pain completely erased from her face. It was as if Ed had reached over and flipped a switch on Constance to start her up like an engine when, in the end, he had just given her an excuse to talk about her most favorite thing in the entire world: herself.

“Eddy! I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, but normally doesn’t the reporter do a bit more than just ask for a story to show up?” she asked, waving her hand dismissively to show that she was teasing. “Fortunately, darling, I have the utmost respect for those in your profession and I can hardly bare the thought of you being stuck in a rut. Let’s see, a story…” She tilted her head and pressed a finger to her cheek, her eyes wandering up to the brim of her hat as if she had written tales of her exploits on it like a crib sheet. “Well, before I start would you want a happy one or a sad one?”

With a start, Edward realized that Constance had been silent until just moments ago. That was new: she generally wasn't one for silence. Although after the rough and tumble she'd experienced, Ed wasn't really surprised she had taken a moment to be introspective. He had gleaned a bit about who she was before the expedition, and it hadn't been a very flattering picture. A socialite who expected a lovely stroll across the world, discovering untapped riches and excitement.

Instead, she had found exhaustion, legitimate danger, and several near-death experiences. It was enough to put someone off their game, at the very least. Actually, stopping to think about it, Ed realized that out of all of them, Constance had been the one to go through the most. She'd been tossed around with the rest of them in the storms, forced to fight fires and lighting, and she had also been mauled by a giant cat beast. The rest of them had dodged that last unfortunate event.

"I would love an exciting story, if you have one of those. Happy or sad isn't as important to selling the paper, after all." He winced at the words, but it was true: selling the paper was the most important thing in the business world he was a part of. There was no profits without sales, et cetera et cetera. "But I think after the stress we've been under, a happy story might be nice."

"Armas! Krauss!" The voice over the PA system made him jump. "Get ta tha hanger! It's time for tha daily!" Conway was likely referring to the daily check of their helicopter-device's systems and structure. Ed had listened to them discuss it before, and it was always good to make sure things were still in place.

With a glance at each other, the two departed, leaving Ed, Luna, and Constance alone together on the deck. Ed tapped his pen idly against his thigh while he waited. "I'm open to something from you as well, Luna, if you like. All of us need a nice story, eh?"

A happy story. While the practiced, mildly amused look, as if someone had just whispered an unpleasant joke about a person within her vicinity and now she was trying not to laugh, stayed on Constance’s face, there was hints of strain around the corners of her eyes and the edge of her lips. It had been a bluff, really. She had assumed Edward would’ve been like most other reporters and chased after something harrowing or exciting or scandalous instead of falling into the trap of publishing feel-good interest pieces that generally led to a decline in readership. Now she was stuck; she didn’t really have any happy stories, at least none that ended well for all parties involved. She cleared her throat and strung together a few words that sounded as if she was about to start something despite having no clue what to say, a thankful interruption from the intercom buying her another few precious moments to rack her brain for something from her life that she could spin positively.

“Okay, I got you one,” she said with a snap of her fingers and a gesture towards Edward. “A sort of rags-to-riches story. People love those ones, don’t they?” If she attended for the question to be answered, she didn’t give them a chance. “I maybe the great granddaughter of the Devil Diver James Holloway, but even when he was alive his family never had much wealth and, well, disappearing is a good way to let your loved ones be torn apart by the teeth of loansharks.” It was a tactic she had been accused of using before. She laughed lightly, although there was a hint of bitterness in her voice, and shook the thought from her head. “By the time I was born our family wasn’t just destitute, they were practically revelling in their poverty. I could never understand as a girl how my parents could never scrape together enough coins to properly feed us yet how my mother always seemed to find herself a bottle and my father always seemed to find a buy-in for a card game.”

“In the Bottoms—my hometown, Edgenook, sorry—there was only one way a child could really survive, and that was by working. Mostly in factories, even if they paid you rubbish and treated you as if rubbish was what you were. They’d deduce wages at the slightest offense; for slacking off, for talking, for breaking a product, for getting caught in the machines.” Constance looked out towards the horizon, as if she was trying to forget factory life, and then continued, “Another way to survive was to band together with other children and do whatever was necessary. Beg. Steal. Threaten. Most of them acted out of desperation, but I saw enough of them that actually enjoyed it that to this day I’m certain I’ll never have a child.”

“I just worked in the factories, but I had plenty of friends who went the other route. They were forced to do it, actually, because they weren’t allowed to work in the factories. Mostly for their fault, I guess—got caught stealing food from the foreman’s office, talked back to their supervisors, that sort of thing—although I remember there was one who had lost an arm to a set of gears at work and they fired him because he could no longer properly do his job. However, I must’ve felt bad for them; I practically begged Paxton to let me give them a hand.”

She paused abruptly and turned her head. That was a name she hadn’t spoken aloud in a long time, and for good reason. Any story involving Paxton was, by definition, an unhappy one. Reflexively, her teeth peeled back her lower lip and her eyes narrowed, only for her to quickly correct herself with a few blinks and a polite laugh.

“Anyway,” she said, sucking in air and then rushing through the next words, “it turns out that the real way someone survives in the Bottoms is to get out of it, and that’s what I did once I had saved up enough money through hard work and dedication. I was fortunate enough to meet a businessman who saw my potential, yadda yadda yadda, and now I can buy up all the factories in the Bottoms if I wanted to—except they aren’t really profitable, so, well, you know.”

She smiled, and then quickly moved to change the subject before anybody could point out how phony the rushed ending of her “happy” story felt. “Luna, I must say that you did an absolutely fantastic job of patching me up; Officer Raoul hardly did anything at all except talk my ear off. I swear, it was ready to jump overboard. Most girls I know just become nurses with hopes of finding a way to worm themselves into a doctor’s heart and, well, his pocketbook, but I can tell that isn’t your case. But still, it seems like an awful amount of work for almost no recognition—Raoul pretty much broke his hand patting himself on his back for the job you had done. I must say, I was rather bothered by it. I don’t know if I could stand someone taking credit for my hard work.”

“I have to ask,” said Constance with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “does that sort of thing happen often in your line of work? I’m sure Eddy’s curious, too, aren’t you, Eddy?”

Luna listened to Constance's story, where she was settled, finding herself growing more and more angry as the story went on. When it came to an end, Luna stood up, and smoothing over her cloths as if she had all the time in the world, she turned to Constance, and seemed to take a moment to choose her words, carefully, as if worried Constance wouldn't be able to understand her if she used big words. "So" She said slowly, "let me get this straight" She shifted to her full height, which wasn't much, and shook her hair out of h er face. "You seem to have a low opinion of me-or did until i saved your ass with my medical knowledge, and sort of treated me like rubbish despite having once been treated like rubbish yourself. And then you tell us this story, which is basically saying how you climbed to riches and won't help those that truly need it, that you know need it because you experienced it. That sure is a real happy story" She said with sarcasm, her gaze never once leaving Constances

She continued "And then you try to turn the attention to me, by asking whether or not my fellow nurses basically become nurses to get into doctors pants for money. Do you realise how insulting that is?" She said, truly appauled by this...stuck up woman. "Raoul can bugger off, everyone knows I did it, but I don't do this job for recognition, or credit. I do it to help people, something you see to have forgotten how to do in your drive to get away from everything that made you who you are, effectively becoming nothing more then the people who thought you rubbish to beging with" She turned to glance at Edward, not particularly caring if she was sounding like...well a conscience. Perhaps a vicious one at that, but Constance seemed to need one, having to, it appeared, lost it in her rise to power.

"No, that sort of thing does not happen, and I would appreciate it if you didn't try to besemech my profession. We work damn hard for what we do, and we do it so that people don't have to die, so that people can go home to their families" She turned so she was looking at both of them. She shook her head, "Do you want to know what my childhood was like? My mother was raped, didn't want me, it was a miricale I survived to be four years old, when my mother killed herself. My adoptive Father found me, and took me in, despite not having anything himself, and gave me the world. He worked dman hard to give us a house, and send me to school. And I happily give him a good amount of my paycheck. So that's my life" She said, furiously, "I came on this expedition in the hopes of getting enough money to become a doctor, so I can give him the life he deserves" She turned away from both of them, shaking still, and bowing her head.

I miss you, Daddy

She was taken aback, her shoulders hunched up as if someone had just thrown something at her. Constance tried to keep her face from turning sour as Luna began cutting into her, but the woman was too worn out from her battle of trying to hide the pained expressions to keep up any sort of facade. Her eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits, her face wrinkling as if she had just taken a sip of a wine that had turned into vinegar. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as Luna accused her of the most absurd of things? Constance, treat Luna like rubbish? Not once, there was not one single time that Constance could ever remember being rude to the little ingrate, not that she didn’t deserve a harsh word or even a slap from the way that she had behaved cooly towards Constance. It was almost as if the nurse did not like her.

That’s absolutely impossible, thought Constance, her thinned lip twisting up into a smirk. Is she joking?

And her story had been quite the happy one! Constance had deserved a better life, and she had achieved a better life; it was practically a fairytale (and, considering some of the glossed over details, about as accurate as one to boot). It wasn’t her fault that the people she left behind in the Bottoms deserved their position in life; besides, she had grown up with them, and she knew what a beastly lot they were. Helping even one of them would be an open invitation for a knife to appear between her ribs, and that was a fact.

Constance was growing more and more convinced that Luna just did not understand anything—the prude. She had only been trying to make a joke and besides, even though it was true, it was just the nurses that Constance knew that were such fast women. She didn’t know all the nurses in the world, that would be absurd, and she most definitely didn’t know the ones that came from the convent Luna had apparently been schooled at.

The wealthy woman’s body language began to shift from the initial shock to one of a more cruel confidence. Her copper eyes widened and shined with an almost marvel, and her smirk grew into a rather toothy smile, not unlike the kind seen on dogs before they bite a hand. Her shoulders relaxed as she also stood to her full height. She was already taller than the woman, and her boots gave her another inch or two, her nose turned up ever so slightly as the woman inadvertently complimented her for becoming what she, or at least she supposed Luna thought that she should, hate. Yes, it was absolutely dreadful being smart, sophisticated, and successful; truly, she had become a monster! The horror, she thought, shaking her head in amusement as Luna continued to make a buffoon out of herself.

“Okay,” she said as Luna finish divulging her entire reason for being aboard the Garrloch, her gloved hand perched underneath her chin. She flashed Edward a sideways, somewhat guilty glance before looking back at the shaking Luna, her smile softening into something that almost sold her as being sympathetic. Constance could have torn into the other woman, hell, a good part of her felt she was damned justified to do so after having her good character slandered, dragged through the mud, and then assassinated in front of a reporter, but she bit her tongue because they were in front of a reporter.

“I can see that you’re upset,” she said, her words measured and calculated as she began to highroad the other woman, “and I’m sorry if I happened to offend you. I was only trying to have a little fun. I’m positive that you’d be an absolutely fantastic doctor one day.” But not unless you fix your dreadful bedside manners and give me a proper apology, she thought, knowing how easy it would be to whisper into the few necessary ears to make the nurse’s dream an impossibility. Constance gave Edward another look, trying to silently signal him to help bail her out of this horrendously uncomfortable position Luna had put her in.

Edward was writing absolutely furiously. This was heavy, heavy stuff, and he was going to make sure he recorded every bit of it. He'd gotten so caught up in the whole adventure, he'd nearly forgotten the whole point to him showing up to this madness in the first place! The people, the stories, the way they would all interact.

This was perfect stuff for his story, which he was absolutely sure would win him a Pulitzer Prize, if only due to the level of insane experiences he had already found himself in. Chased by a giant cat-monkey beast on an obscure island in the middle of nowhere? A mystic cube which projected a map into thin air? What would come next?

And the people on the journey! Right now, he felt like a boring piece of gum by comparison. A wildly narcissistic woman with a penchant for over-theatrics, one of the most stubborn and sass-filled nurses he'd ever met--not that he'd met many nurses, of course--and others besides. Conway, Krauss, and Armas...and whoever else might show up on this adventure. He smiled briefly, lost in thoughts while they argued nearby.

It was a while before he noticed Constance looking at him with pained eyes. He lurched, desperately reeling back through the last set of things he remembered being said. They had been...very Constance-esque, to say the least. "Hm," he mumbled, still partially distracted by the magnitude of his thoughts. "Constance, where would you say your excessive narcissism stems from? Maybe the stress of an early life? That'd be a good bit of drama for the sto--" he said the words without thinking, scratching a new section in his notebook to keep writing. Then the words clicked.

"Oh, Plummet!" he blurted. "Constance I am so sorry, I didn't mean anything by that--I know you've been through a lot and I respect everything you've been through, it's just that I don't get why it still matters so much to you because, well..." He was in full out rambling mode, now, hoping to drown the stupid things he said with pure volume. "We are out here in the middle of nowhere, aren't we? Out here in the middle of God knows where, and who knows if we'll ever make it back. I mean, does it really matter what any of us have accomplished before this?"

He kept going, now feeling emotion take root. "We're out here risking our lives to see what might be, what we're missing up in that tiny little sliver of this huge world, and...and no one cares! No one cares if I'm a reporter, or if you were rich once upon a time, or if Luna is getting into bed with whoever she pleases--not that I'm insinuating that," he broke off to Luna, not wanting to be misunderstood. "I mean, really, when you think about it, why does it matter so much to you about being remembered, when all of this world is brand new and full of wonder?"

He fell silent then, looking down at his notebook. It had seemed so important just a few seconds ago, but now it seemed as if he'd talked himself out of his enthusiasm. Really, what was the point of him writing all this down if they never returned? Even more important, if they did return, how could he go back to being what he was before? A normal reporter at a normal job would drive him out of his mind with boredom, after this.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "For the babbling, I mean."

"Because" Luna said, shooting a dagger filled glance at Constance, "She thinks the world revolves around her" She seemed to think a moment, before giving a laugh "Oh, you like to make it seem like you give a damn about others, Constance, but you don't. You probably think you're being real sympathetic, when you aren't, and you meant full well what you meant, it wasn't just for fun" She pulled herself to her full height once more, "And I understand the undertone to your words. I wonder what people would say, if they knew you cowered in the face of danger, how...ungainly, ungraceful and undignified you have been" Luna was tired of taking the crap from people like Constance, and she'd match threat for threat, particularly when Luna wanted to become a doctor, not for herself but to give her father a better life, and to save people. She would not let herself be intimidated by someone like Constance.

She turned her back on Constance, turning her attention towards Edward, "Because, Edward...Hope is a powerful thing. Hope that we will return, and not just for ourselves, but for those that we left behind, with knowledge of the world that can be valuble for our people. Hope that we can make a difference. Hope that by continuing, we can find something. Hope, Edward, can make all the difference in the world" She said softly, "You write everything down, so that the world may know what we did, what we found" She said, sighing sofftly, she walked a little away from both of them, wrapping her arms around her in a hug.

"Keep writing Edward. Even if we don't return, maybe someone will find your work one day, and know what happened to us. Maybe they can do what we couldn't, if thats the case, cause of what you write. And if we do return, it will show them what we went through. Maybe when we return we won't be the same, we won't be able to go back to mundane lives, but...the world needs to know. One way or another" She drifted off into a silence, troubled.

She didn't like being...confrontational, bad. There was just something about Constance that riled Luna up. She just couldn't help it. She bet that Constance didn't even care about the people she left behind, that she thought it was their own fault. That because she got lucky, she shouldn't give a damn about them. LUna sighed wearily. Maybe when she had more money...no, not maybe. When she got more money, Luna would invest in that area. Seek to try and make it better. She sighed again. She had no idea what to do right now.

"Do you...Edward, do you really think...we won't get back?" She asked softly, feeling a little...scared. Worried. She knew that there was a chance she'd never make it back, but...she had the hope there that she would. [b]"We've survived so much, already, that...I think we could continue to survive. That one way, or another, we'll make it back. "I have to have that hope"

"You'd never believe what happened on that there piece o' land.. A damned beast of a thing was waiting in the dark..." The young hired gun paused, enjoying the attention from the other deckhands, and mild interest from other engineers. "One of the group actually stumbled right into the thing, and of course, the rest was there followin' close behind. There was a chase and gunshots and--"

The young man's raspy voice slowly faded into a dull and droning tune in the background. Myra pursed her lips together, tilting her head slightly away from all the commotion that followed the exaggerated tale.

That was all she'd been hearing down in the hanger for at least a good half hour now. In fact, most of the voyage, Myra had been lucky enough to hear all about the various things that she had been ever so lucky to miss out on. She'd accepted the invitation to accompany some of the most talented engineers to help with the upkeep of the Garrloch and it's priceless equipment. With her background in aerospace technology, she had been the perfect candidate to keep the UINC's newest aircraft running smoothly -- a responsibility she held with pride. She had also accepted the invitation out of curiosity; how often does one get the chance to be a part of something so revolutionary? Somehow, being below deck while the action and adventure occurred above just didn't seem all that appetizing to her. She didn't come to simply work behind the scenes.

With a huff, Myra packed up the tools she had sprawled out in front of her and stowed them away in the locker she had been provided upon arrival. She grimaced. Even for the short amount of time she'd had with it, she'd managed to make a complete mess of the thing; littering it with books and notes on plants, and planes.

As she stared upon the mess, Myra began to slip into her thoughts, allowing herself a moment to drown in something besides work and the endless ocean around them. She would meet with Conway. She would inquire about the island and ask to be alongside the group that had originally touched down on land. Or, maybe not... If that run in with the large cat-like monster had any say in her decision. Either way, they had initiative, if the stories she'd heard throughout the day were any indication. Joining with them seemed the best course of action.

Her thoughts were disrupted by a harsh squeal from the PA systems.
"Armas! Krauss! Get ta tha hanger! It's time for tha daily!"

Perfect! She could meet with Captain Conway and discuss her plans sooner than she'd expected, it appeared he was on his way to the hanger. On his way to her. Myra rushed over to a hand-mirror recently discarded on one of nearby the workbenches, angling it to examine her face from above, below; any angle she could work with. Her hair had managed to stay in place... for the most part. The real issue was the oil smudges on her face and skin from working with the AV-44, to her dismay they seemed stuck on her face until she could rinse later. Ah well.

The blonde straightened, allowing herself to reach her full height -- attempting to scrape whatever confidence she could muster, and headed off to find Conway, Krauss, and Armas. As one of the head engineers, and, arguably one of the most experienced in the aeronautical sciences, she wanted to be present during the examination of the AV-44. She'd taken fondly to the bird, it's ingenuity and beauty stunned her -- she wasn't about to let just anyone muck it up.

-
Conway marched into the hangar with pilot and entourage in tow. He'd taken the liberty of finally having calm waters to do a full check of everything on the Garrloch. After fighting their way through the storms, they had started repairs, of course, but what had been intended to be a relaxing day on the shore had turned into a complicated, confusing, dangerous mess.

His faith in free time had been eradicated with the giant cat beast. Now he would take any spare time he could muster. "Asmunr!" roared the captain as he came upon the Legri mechanic. Asmunr liked to laugh, and his mirth was highly contangious to everyone around him. Not now, though: Conway was on a mission. "Where can I find Ulhart? It's time for tha day's checkin'."

"Greetings to you, my captain." Asmunr smiled, bowing at the waist with mock civility. In reality, Asmunr was likely older than ninety percent of the people on the ship. "Ulhart approaches, sir. Grant him a few minutes, if you will." He glanced behind Conway, Krauss, and Armas, raising an eyebrow. "I see others approach, as well."

Conway turned, seeing a straight-backed, blonde woman marching into the room. She looked to be part of the mechanical crew, her face streaked with oil. She was nearly as tall as Conway himself, though he still had a few inches on her.

"Somethin' I can do for ye lass?"

-
As the captain turned his attention on her, Myra felt her stomach drop. She deflated a little upon her approach, her back slacking at the middle.

"I... Yes, sir." She struggled to find the words she'd been so sure about a moment before. "I wanted to formally introduce myself, as we haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet on the voyage, a surprise to myself, but understandable considering the circumstances." She began to slowly steady herself, the words were coming easier now, her voice fitted with a pleasant cheer, like a child talking about their favorite game. That's what this was, after all. Another game. One she would inevitably maneuver her way through. Hopefully. At least, that's what she told herself as her gaze locked on Conway.

"My name is Myra Sylvan, sir. I've been working with the mechanics here, and most of the crew here in the hanger. While I'm honored to be a part of this expedition at all, I..." She paused, her hands fidgeting with one another. "I would like to ask of your permission to accompany the next group on shore. I know an... extensive deal of flora and of some geographical instances involved with land. I may be of value when deciphering anything we unearth while searching this vast, new territory." Her light green eyes twinkled, ablaze with determination.

"I know that my duties at the end of the day lay with the AV-44 and keeping her in flying order; I will remain devoted as ever to that, sir. But... T'would be a waste to not use any knowledge available to you that could assist with the expedition." She paused, allowing a small, sheepish smile to dawn on her lips. Her hands stopped fidgeting, and instead dropped to her sides. This was it.

-
Myra had been lucky to catch the Captain in a relatively good mood. Any time previously he would have snapped at her in moments, due to the stress he was under.

Instead, Conway looked her up and down, his brow furrowing as she spoke. She was tall for a female, and well built. The oil on her face spoke to him as a sign of someone who knew how to get her hands dirty, and didn't fear hard work. Not like that Constance woman.

Still, the one of the main factors of the expedition had been to use the Endurance to explore as wide a span as possible. They needed everyone they could get working on the thing. Still...

"Can ya shoot a rifle, Sylvan? Build a shelter? Sure as sand, ya'd probably be fine out on the ground. But I'm afeared that anythin' we find out here'll be new, and yar botanical knowledge might find itself...of no use whatsoever." He folded his arms, motioning with his head for Krauss and Armas to continue on into the hangar.

If he was to be perfectly honest, it had been mere coincidence that the people doing the exploring had been the people with the least exploration experience. Constance, Edward, Luna, and Armas...were not the advance party Conway had hoped to send ashore.

And yet, they had brought results. Still, Armas was a mechanic, through and through. He belonged with the ship. Edward would through a little fit if he wasn't allowed to go first, and considering he had deciphered that map...thing, Conway decided he could remain. Constance was expendable, and Luna had proven herself to be an excellent field medic.

But the three of them couldn't go out into the world alone. That luck wouldn't last forever. He wouldn't mind sending with them someone who had a better handle on not panicking. This Sylvan character seemed to present a good, calm front.

"I'm not sayin' no, per say..." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully with one hand. "I'm just askin' to be convinced. I don't know much about tha botany, so I may be off with my worries." He glanced at the ground. "Ya know how ta fly the bird, Sylvan?" he asked, a subtle gleam in his eye. "More specific'ly, are ya willin' to learn? If ya can learn that, there might be a place for ya after all."

-
Like a bee desperate for honey, Myra listened to Conway on baited breath. She felt his eyes travel her body -- sizing her up. She reached up and tucked a nonexistent strand of hair from her face, smoothing out the rest of her hair behind her ears. She tilted her head and watched the forms of Krauss and Armas head off further into the hangar. She folded her arms, which were well-toned from years of disciplined work with her upper body, fiddling with plane engines and lifting various parts in and out as needed.

Sure as she'd predicted of the man, he'd subtly called out her little more than useless skill. Yet, he'd paused. What she hadn't expected of the old captain, was his inquiries on her survival skills. She was a scientist, through and through. What survival skills could she truly possess? Yet...

"I have never been familiarized with a gun, no. The most I've ever come in contact with them is through what I've read up on their mannerisms. On how the actual gun is built. Otherwise, I'm not proficient in actually using one." She paused, raising an inquisitive brow. "However, I do believe I could build a shelter. I am handy in making use in what I have around me. And, I'm a quick thinker -- so I suppose that could be a resource when out in the field as well?" Though her tone came off as a question, it seemed like she was directing it more to herself, a mere thought passing between the two.

She noted a gleam in the older man's eyes and prepared for the worst. What she heard next made her drop her arms once more, though this time, her jaw did too. To fly the Endurance? Her?
Oh.

She snapped out of her momentary haze and nodded, struggling to maintain her composure. "I.. Yes. My mother was a pilot, sir. So I do have some experience in the air, mostly thanks to her. But.." She found herself struggling. To fly such an expensive aircraft, to even be allowed to touch the bird was an honor. But to fly it? Wow.

"I would need to familiarize myself with her controls, first. But, I do believe I'd be up for flying her. I mean, I've gotten to know her inside and out --" She gave a soft laugh, letting her eyes flicker over to the spot on the ground Conway had taken an interest in before her. "I'd be honored for the opportunity to fly her, sir." She lifted her chin, hoping to show confidence in her answer, and not cockiness. She added a little lift to the corners of her mouth. She would mention her slight... distaste for heights later. But for now, she wanted to affirm her chances of exploration.

-
"Perfect," Conway huffed, and moved past her. "Krauss! Over here, man. This lady's here ta be yer backup. Teach her what ya can, hey? I know it's hard ta learn: remember, I was a pilot as well. But I need ta crew the damned ship, so she's my replacement now. Fer now, she'll be copilot. Later, I fersee the two'o ye swapping out on each flight."

Krauss opened his mouth with an indignant look, but Conway shushed him. "Yes, I'm aware that it's risky. Here's the thing, thought: I'm the captain, aren't I? Good, then follow yer orders. On the next flight, she goes with you. And yes, I know being an engineer "

He turned back to Myra. "Right now, Sylvan, I expect ya to get abovedecks and talk to the rest of the first crew. Look for a man, a woman, and a ridiculous socialite. Ye can't miss'em."

---

The cold air was the first to hit her, sending chills down her spine. It was fresh; not a trace of oil, smoke, or steel to cloud it. Myra moved to zip up the jumpsuit she had had hanging loosely around her waist, the barren tank-top she was wearing underneath was far too cold now that she was no longer surrounded by the warmth of the hangar. She'd only just rounded the corner past the stairwell when she heard a few muffled voices; she could make out three. Look for a man, a woman, and a ridiculous socialite...

Pushing further ahead, Myra came to a stop just as she could get her bearings on what she saw ahead of her. Leaning against a nearby wall, she waited, listening intently from her (currently) undetected location. Looking around at the three, she noted the vast differences in each and of course, their current... squabbling. This was to be her new "crew"? The people she would risk life and limb for? She was considering walking back down to the hangar when she recalled the stories she'd been privy to hearing. Sure -- they may not look like much, but they got the job done. That was what mattered.

Lifting herself from the wall, Myra slowly sauntered over to the three, her mouth forming into a smile. A peace offering. "Nicely said. Hope is one of the most powerful things in existence." She shifted her tone, adopting a softer voice - a voice that could melt steel. "While I hate to interrupt this... Eh.." She motioned nonchalantly with her hand, gesturing across the three. She sighed, the words for whatever this was, weren't altogether pleasant. "Bonding moment you're all having..." Her hand floated back to her side. "I was told to meet up with you; Captain's orders."

She glanced over to the woman currently holding onto herself, as if letting go meant falling apart. Maybe she already was. Myra felt her smile falter; What exactly had she walked in on?

"I apologize," She shifted her focus to the other woman, her gaze quickly flickering over her outfit. Other than the three notable tears across the mid-section, likely from that monster she'd heard of, it was an outfit that seemed fitted to her. She held herself much in the same way that Myra did, a display of confidence. She stood at full height and despite her doing so, her shoulders were relaxed. Something was off about the whole show, but Myra couldn't quite place it. It was familiar to her though, she used the same tactics herself.

"I'm Myra Sylvan," She continued, hoping to explain her intrusion, "I'm one of the engineers assigned to look after the Endurance, or as you might know her better, the AV-44." She occupied herself with the zipper at the top of her coveralls. "I didn't get the chance to meet with you earlier, but seeing as I'm going to join ranks with you come the next adventure, I figured doing so would be in all our best interests. We're a team, so... Getting to know who you're trusting to watch your back out there in the unknown is sort of important, I suppose." Myra shifted on her feet, waiting for a reaction. Searching for any discontent. Hopefully, she would find the opposite -- but given the circumstances, she'd take what she could get.

“Ah!”

The noise had been pulled out of Constance the second Edward convinced her of narcissism, her body reflexively convulsing as if she had just been punched in the gut. Excessive narcissism? Her mouth hung open as she stared straight ahead, completely stupefied by the man’s wild claims. I don’t have a single narcissistic bone in my body! she thought as she snapped out of the initial shock, hastily shutting her mouth and adjusting her sun hat so that it cast a shadow over her face. She bristled visibly at his mention of nobody caring about her having been rich, shooting an accusatory look at the reporter.

“H-h-how d—” she finished the sentence by instead swallowing the rest of her drink, wishing by some miracle that the water would transform into something a skosh harder.

The gull of this man! The presumption! What an idiot! Just because he had been a nobody reporter that had never accomplished any notable achievement before, just because he never had anyone who expected him to fail because of their past—Constance knew full well that the only thing people cared about others was what they could accomplish or, more accurately, what the couldn’t. Her whole life she was told that she could never be anything more than a wage slave, could never get out of the Bottoms, could never run a business, could never be accepted by her peers, and now after proving all of them wrong she was being told that none of that shit could ever matter by some rank tabloid writer? Of course it mattered! Legacy was everything.

She didn’t even have a chance to speak before Luna tagged in as Edward tried to make a pitiful apology. Constance glanced wildly between the two, her moist eyes twitching, as Luna continued where Edward had left off. The reporter had been content with just dragging her through the mud a little; Luna seemed determined to drown her in it. Constance found herself shaking. She couldn’t understand what was happening. Was this some sort of practical joke? As far as she could think, she had never done anything wrong to them. Were they just simply jealous of her? That she could understand, but that didn’t mean that they had the right to spread rumors about her.

“U-u-ung—” she choked on her words; Luna was already turning her back to ignore her.

The nerve of this woman! The duplicity! Constance, a coward? What a laugh! Had she not been the one who had put out the fire on the ship, had she not been the one who had discovered land while in the air, had she not been the one who had braved the dark night and led them into the cave, had she not been the only one smart enough to bring a weapon, and had she not been the only one injured by trying to protect what she had thought were her friends? Unfair, unfair, unfair, Constance could only feel as if they were being so unfair to her, as it was often the case where one could only see themselves as being the victim.

"Nicely said. Hope is one of the most powerful things in existence."

“W-w-what bu—” Nope, words were still impossible, the word “bullshit” morphing into a bizarre guttural noise that was not far from the noise someone made when they were trying to quietly retch into the toilet the morning after without waking any of the guests that stayed the night.

Constance gave the new woman a strained smile before quickly looking away, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand as she sucked in a breath of salty air. How absolutely fantastic—another person to insult her for no reason whatsoever. Hope, powerful? Seriously now? Diligence was powerful. Ambition was powerful. Money was powerful. Hope never fed or sheltered anyone; any child in the Bottoms could tell that holding onto hope was absolutely hopeless. The air escaped her lungs in chopped, ragged laughter as Constance shook her head in disbelief. Myra, their new friend, was correct about one thing: it was important to know who was watching your back. Doubly so if it’s noone.

“It’s absolutely fantastic to meet you, Myra, but I have to jet,” said Constance after a deep breath, her voice mechanical yet weary. She felt as if she was about to cry. “Raoul requires that I check in with him every other hour,” she said. No doubt Luna would know that to be a lie, but she needed an excuse to get away lest she broke and gave them even more ammo for their bandoliers. She pushed away from the rail, flashed a phony smile, and tilted her head low as she pushed by the newcomer. Her voice choked as she continued, “I suppose there’s no need for me to stay here anyway; those two will more than happily sling all sorts of shit about me once I leave anyway.”

“Sorry,” she said as she stopped and turned towards the others. The smile was still plastered to her face as if she was a child’s hideous doll, but even with her hat pulled low the sun still reflected off of the moisture on her cheeks. “How terrible of me. I was being egotistical again. Hah.” There was no amusement in her voice. “Guess even I can’t help being human. Ta!” With that she sharply turned, her boots clicking against the deck before she disappeared down below, her goodbye punctuated with the sound of a glass shattering into a dozen pieces as it smashed into a wall below, doing very little to mask the loud curse that accompanied it.

---

---

---

---

Collin Becker opened his eyes to the sound of a clanging bell. It was the morning work-bell, and he'd gotten used to waking up to it everyday. The Ghalari were hard workers, of course, but they were also hard partiers. Just last night, there had been a celebration of unparalleled size and mirth. A festival to the three Gods of the Faces, everyone in Ghalar had been given the day off to make merry, and pray for a better year.

He groaned as the sound brushed the cobwebs of a hangover from his head. Beside him, the woman he had found himself pressed against for the extent of the celebrations stirred in kind, her dark skin shifting against his, colored slightly lighter. The contrast brought thoughts unbidden to his head.

The Devil Divers. He shook his head with some exhaustion. The source of the lightness in his skin, even still, three generations later. His parents, and their parents before them... they had all made sure he knew of his original heritage. Progeny of Daniel Becker, his ancestor and the other Devils had come from another land: a floating land, if the stories were to be believed. And island which had been high in the sky, and protected by a storm of fury.

His great ancestor had leapt down without a care in the world, sailed off for months, and eventually stumbled upon the Ghalari. They had be well-received, if a bit confused by the language, and had settled in to a new life here, on a sprawling archipelago that none knew the end of.

"My friend, what troubles you?" The woman in his bed sat up, speaking the melodic language of Ghalar. He knew it fluently, as he'd grown up here, but his parents had also schooled him in the harsher language they called Isle Common. It was what they spoke back on the floating islands, apparently.

He rarely used it, but it was always good to be able to talk to the other Diver descendants, even if they'd all be speaking Ghalari for the thirty-five years he'd lived here. The next generation of Divers, like Juliette, were even less fluent with Isle Common, being raised among the Ghalari.

She pressed up against him, a teasing smile in her words. "Shall we pray again to the Faces? Your words of worship were... magnificent."

He lurched away, groaning again as his feet swung over the edge. "Apologies, my friend. The bell rings for me, and I must go."

"Bah." The woman clicked her tongue lightly. "Today is still a day of rest. But, but, I understand. Go on, go on... speak with your family and friends. I shall clean myself up for the festivities tonight." Collin thanked the woman, who smiled kindly in return. He stood, dressed, and left the building. The sun greeted him, as did the thriving bustle of the waking city.

Ghal-Priyam, the Capitol of Ghalar. The height of technology and human evolution, with huge shipyards of metal and steam, grand building stretching a staggering ten stories high, and motorcars zipping about every which way. It was a time of great prosperity and productivity.

"Collin!" A familiar voice caught his attention, and Collin glanced to see another one of the Diver descendants, Raymond, waving at him. Unlike Collin, Raymond had inherited lighter skin through the generations: some of the Divers looked no darker in skin color now as they had upon arrival.

Raymond was speaking Isle Common. "Come and get a drink with us to start the day! The Morrisons are holding an open bar for the day, and you know none of us would ever pass up a chance like that! Plus," Raymond said with a sly grin, "maybe that Juliette gal will be there. You still haven't introduced me to her, you know."

Shaking his head with admonishment, Collin allowed himself to be led down the street to where the Morrison's had set up shop for the day. They were a friendly sort, as were most of the Diver descendants. He smiled amicably at Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, then settled back while Raymond told jokes and laughed with the rest of them.

It happened again…

Curling her fingers, Juliette held the half-destroyed basket in her arms, pulling it closer to her chest as the ever familiar sting of tears hit her eyes, causing them to well slightly before they began to fall, rolling over her rosy colored cheeks before dropping completely to stain the front of her shirt. Why did it always have to happen..? The moment she fixed one mistake, another had to take its place; and with it came the yelling… the anger… sometimes verbal, sometimes physical… The very thought of it had her shoulders hunching over slightly as she pulled the basket even closer against her body, the bruises on her arms hidden by her sleeves.

Ninety-three… ninety-four… ninety-five… Breaking a single hand away from the basket as she heard the festive cheer of voices growing louder with every step, she lifted it up, using the end of her sleeve to wipe away the tears from her eyes, the sound of her mother’s voice calling out to her causing her to pause, turning her head in that direction as it floated over to her over the rowdy muffle that was the crowd of customers that had gathered for them.

“Juliette..! You're back..! And just in time; if you’re feeling up to it, we could use your help serving today. It’s quite busy with the festival.”

“Of course, mother. I’d be more than happy to help out.” Forcing a smile onto her lips, Juliette slowed her step as she drew closer to the voice, her grip easing as she felt the basket being taken from her hands, replaced instead by a couple of beers before the soft touch of her mother’s hands were on her hips, turning and pointing her in the right direction before a gentle pressure was applied to her lower back, urging her to begin walking as the instructions were called out to her from behind.

“Listen out for Collin; he and his friend are the ones who ordered the drinks.”

Of all the Diver descendants, the Morrisons had become the most ingrained with the new society of the Ghalar. It was somewhat ironic, considering that of all the Divers, they had kept their skin tone relatively intact from the original generation. It was fading, however: Mr. Morrison in front of him, the true descendant of Theodore himself, was noticeably darker than his father had been.

Collin vaguely remembered Mr. Morrison Senior. He remembered flashes of a grouchy, yet not unkind man, who was fluent in the main language of Ghalar, and offered all the young people around him plenty of wisdom, whether they wanted it or not. What a man, should he rest in comfort with the Faces.

A nudge from Raymond brought Collin's attention back to the present, making him aware of the music being played in the background, and the hustle and bustle of preparations for the night's celebrations. Juliette had just emerged from the side of the quaint little house. She was carrying several drinks, and kept one ear turned to face the crowd. A pang of sympathy rose in Collin before he quashed it: she'd never asked for sympathy, and he was under the impression that if anyone ever offered her any, she would shut them out.

"Miss Morrison!" he called in Ghalari, "it is good to meet with you again." At another nudge from Raymond, Collin rolled his eyes. "Do you remember my friend, Raymond Rahlei? He hails from the Diver families, like us."

Raymond smiled briefly. "Bah, Collin, do we not all come from Ghalar now?" And Collin admitted that the man was correct. Technically, after three or four generations, they were far more Ghalari than they were Diver. The culture of the Divers had remained, pass down through the generations, but none of his peers could truly claim to be from that culture, as their grandparents had.

"Perhaps you are right, Raymond. But our names remain foreign, no? Some part of us remembers the broadness of our family trees." He smiled at Juliette, before realizing with a jolt that she would not see it. "I... ah, do you agree, Miss Morrison?" he asked, somewhat lamely.

“..perhaps it is in honor of our ancestors which keeps us straying from the names of other Ghalari, to instead follow in their path, and to keep the names brought to us by the Divers who risked all to seek out new adventure in that which was unknown to them.” Smiling softly (though more genuinely) as she slowed to a stop by their voices, Juliette shifted the tray slightly within her arms, doing everything that she could to keep it balanced upon the palm of her hand while her other made slow movements, the very tips of her fingers seeking out the neck of each bottle before she placed them down on the polished surface of the table.

Being sure to quickly give another sweep of the tray with her fingers to make sure she had put all the beers down, she let her attention and ear fall completely to the conversation, her fingers curling over the edge of the tray as she hugged it close against her chest with both of her arms, her sleeves falling slightly to reveal some of her forearm and some of the light bruising staining her flesh, “So… yes; I do believe I agree, Mr. Becker.”

Tilting her head lightly to the side, Juliette let one of her arms fall from the tray, lifting it up so that she could once more brush some stray strands of hair off her face with her fingers, her ever unseeing eyes flicking over to where she could hear the gentle and steady breath of another sat across from the familiar voice she was interacting with.

“..apologies… I do believe we have met in passing, though not formally introduced to one another. My name is Juliette Morrison; it is a pleasure to officially meet you, Mr. Rahlei.”

Raymond puffed out his chest, apparently pleased to finally be noticed. Collin chuckled internally: the man was a decade younger than him, so he still had some time to settle down. "Ah, yes, Miss Morrison, it is--a pleasure." For such a puffed up facade, Raymond was finding it troublesome to make words.

Now Collin chuckled audibly, drawing a harsh look from Raymond. The younger man held out his hand in greeting. Then he glanced down at it, and back at her, and winced, pulling his hand back and instead saying: "What a lovely day, eh? I am glad we were finally able to meet. How is your family?"

Collin outright laughed then, quickly excusing it by saying "Sorry, sorry! I heard something most entertaining across the way. Pay me no mind in the slightest."

“Please… call me Juliette, or Julie; whichever you prefer.”

Bringing her hand back down, she once more let it drop down to hold onto the tray with both, the soft smile playing over her lips never once wavering as she let her brilliant blue orbs hover in the direction of the voice floating over the air to hit her ear- he seemed… nervous... It was cute; rather endearing of him... The very thought had her suppressing a soft giggle, doing her best to keep it to herself rather than air it to the rest of the world around her.

“My family is well; I thank you for asking.” Tilting her head lightly to the side, Juliette paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate with something before eventually, she came to a decision, choosing not to go forward with it but rather to instead continue with the conversation as is, “..and your own family..? I hope they are well; enjoying the festivities guided by the knowledge and teachings of the faces three.”

Raymond flushed deeper, and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Ah, yes... my family is, somewhat estranged, at the moment. I am not entirely sure how they are doing, truth be told."

Ah, Collin had forgotten: Raymond and his family were not exactly on speaking terms. He was slightly too much of a layabout for their tastes. They also did not live in Ghal-Priyam: only the Morrisons, the Beckers, and the Holloways had migrated to the big city. The rest had remained in the coastal town of Ikallge, where they had originally made landfall generations ago.

Raymond had been sent by his family to Ghal-Priyam to finally make something of himself, though Collin had not seen that happen as of yet. The Rahlei family had asked him to help the younger man through the trials of life, but Collin was no expert in motivating slackers to do their work.

The way he was looking at Juliette made Collin wonder... perhaps he had been going about all this the wrong way this whole time. "Raymond," he began. "Miss Morrison looks to be quite busy. Perhaps you would not be opposed to assisting her with all these people?"

"Ah, of course!" Raymond said, his back straightening. "It would be an honor! Miss Morrison--apologies, Juliette, how might I assist you?"

“I-… would you be so kind as to help serve..?“ A gentle shade of red crossing over her cheeks, Juliette paused for a moment, biting down softly upon her lower lip as she let the idea of him helping her through the rush settle within her mind- it wasn’t something she did often… allowing others to help her… This was the kind of thing she usually tried to avoid; being a burden on those that she loved.

“..due to my parents offer, business has seemed to grow quite substantially in the last couple of days, and with my brother’s absence…" Dropping her gaze down slightly, she hesitated, her cheeks keeping their blush and radiating a soft warmth before she lifted her head once more, her gaze gentle... reluctant as she glanced back over in the direction of his voice "..uhm, if you would like... I am sure if we were to see the rush through, perhaps we may then find the time to get to know one another better..?”

Collin chuckled at the young man's undisguised happiness. "Absolutely, Juliet--Julie." He glanced at Collin, who made smirked self-satisfiedly. Raymond scowled at him, before scurrying off with Juliette.

Time for another drink, Collin mused, heading back toward Mr. and Mrs. Morrison. They hid all the good stuff in the back. You just had to ask nicely for it.

This was a disaster. Edward's heart sank with every compounding piece of disarray. What had originally been meant to placate Constance had instead enraged her, and then Luna, bless her soul, had gone in and savaged the woman's pride further, and then some other woman had popped in and witnessed it occurring, which Edward sensed was as bad or worse than actually receiving it, to someone like Constance.

He opened his mouth to stop her from leaving, but it was too late: she'd already gone in a stone-cold fury. Great. Just great. In an effort to bring them all slightly closer together, he had blasted them apart. Why, oh why did Constance have to be such a great big lug? Lost in herself, all the time.

His pen tapped at the notebook in his lap with a quiet, consistent intensity. "Hello, Myra," he mumbled, staring off in the direction of the departed businesswoman. "It's nice to meet you, I'm just...sorry we couldn't have met at a better time." He finally broke off from staring to focus on the newcomer's face.

He glanced away almost immediately--it was an instinct when speaking to an attractive woman for the first time. If he had met Constance or Luna under similar, more relaxed circumstances, he likely would had the same reaction, but given that they had just left home and almost immediately had to fight a massive fire, he felt they had moved past that awkward, introductory phase.

"I'm Edward Samick," he continued, holding out a hand. "Reporter for the Winged Gazette in Edgenook. Or at least, that's what I left the U.I. as. Now..." he trailed off, glancing over to Luna. "That's Luna. She's a nurse. Damned good one, too. And you, ah, met Constance. I guess she would call herself our fearless leader, wouldn't she? Still not sure how to interact with her. Maybe you'll have better luck than either of us."

His urge to ask questions bubbled again to the surface unbidden. "Not to be rude or anything, but if you're an engineer assigned to the bird, why are you suddenly being put with us?"

Something clicked in his mind then. "More importantly, if you're 'joining ranks' with us, what the hell does that mean? It's not like we're an elite exploration team or anythi--" Well, that was partially true: they weren't elite by any stretch of the imagination, but so far they had been the ones to explore the furthest. "Just a little confused, is all."

He unconsciously picked up the cube he'd set down to write, flicking it on and off once more in an almost nervous habit. By his estimate, they were traveling in the right direction still: the map seemed to track their immediate location, and they had been consistently moving right toward the large landmass for a while. They would probably be there in, give or take...seven days, given their current speed.

Of course, Edward was going to hound Conway with all his might to be allowed to take the bird and get there sooner. He really, really wanted to know what the hell was out there. God, it was eating him alive, even more so than this Constance business.

"You should remember, Constance, we've all done the same as you on this trip, and no one gives a damn about your money" Luna called after the woman, absolutely infuriated. The woman thought she was above everyone else, that she had done everything and they nothing. That was just like people like Constance. Luna didn't want credit, but she sure as hell didn't want to be considered dead weight, or have herself be walked all over. She sighed to herself, "I'm sorry, Edward. I just...I've worked so hard to get where I am, but I haven't forgotten my roots. I don't like seeing people blamed for their own misfortune, and thats what she is doing. I didn't mean to...get so out of control" She said softly, sighing to herself as she turned to face the new girl.

She studied them, letting Edward do the talking, deciding she’d like nothing more than to crawl into her cabin, where she could be alone for a time. Edward seemed to know what he what he was doing with this sudden new arrival, which was a good thing, considering his line of work, but Luna wasn't in the mood for such small talk, and she kept to herself while she listened to them, before she turned away, looking out on the sea, sighing softly to herself. "I'm sorry, I'm not going to be good company for the moment. But i agree, why are we only meeting you now?" She said softly, her voice remaining, even briefly, steady.

She shifted, smoothing her worn clothes, the battered clothes having seen better days. She only had three changes of clothes, one was singed and still with sea salt, the other was stained with Constaance's blood, the pair she was wearing now were her last clean pair, but nevertheless worn and she sighed again, wondering what she was going to do. She hadn't expected the trip to be so....deadly to her clothes. Reaching up to run a hand through her hair, Luna glanced back to Edward and Myra. She really shouldn't be rude, turning back to them, she was still hugging herself, and she sighed once more, loosening her grip and resting her arms against her side, licking her lips and giving them both a small smile, "I apologise. I let my own feelings get carried away. As Edward has said, I am Luna. One of the medical staff, you're probably better coming to me...I will gladly help you in anyway" She said, trying to sound bright and cheerful, welcoming.

She really had no idea what to make of Myra, it did seem a little strange that she was just appearing now, when they'd been on this expedition for a while now, with everything that had been going on, it seemed fishy that she hadn't been around, but Luna supposed that it was a big ship...Still, she wasn't going to take this at face value, not after the last suprise crew member...not that they were on an island this time, but you never knew. Who knew that was out there? After everything..."Please, forgive me again, there are many things I don't understand, surely we would have had seen you around before, isn't that right?" She asked, looking to Edward.