The sun rises over a dewy spring morning in the coastal town of New Fronio. A large ship floats in the harbor, its crew busily making preparations to depart. It will be a long voyage lasting days, as the vessel will be headed east across the Great Ocean to the city of Fairport. Or at least, that's the plan.

The oceanic scent of brine and seaweed drifts in the air, mixed with that of raw potatoes and spring vegetation. A chilly breeze blows through the harbor, as a flock of seagulls flutter through the skies, cawing at a distance. The ship's captain is merrily humming his own tune, a worn yet fancy tricorne atop his head as he hops about the deck making his chiefly inspections.



Some passengers have already arrived, while others are still on their way. A noble lady stands at the side of the ship watching the horizon, her two guards nearby. She wears a pensive expression, occasionally glancing back uneasily towards the town. An elderly man with graying hair and neat linens rests on a stool watching the sea, while a younger roguish fellow with a wide-brimmed hat surveys the rest of the ship with the hint of a smile.

Below deck, the main area is occupied by rows of sleeping hammocks, for both crew and passengers. Several rooms along the side offer slightly greater space and privacy, reserved for the wealthier travelers able to afford their comforts. Adjacent to the main room is a large dining room, with the kitchen area further back, rife with the smell of fresh fish and raw vegetables. At the other end of the ship is the captain's quarters, its doors closed at the moment. Near the hammocks huddles a family of three - a man, woman, and their small daughter - whispering hushed words among each other and shooting wary glances at the crewmates as the latter go about their work.



On the docks, near the ship's boarding entrance, the burly first mate stands, inspecting and collecting tickets from newly arriving passengers. Meanwhile, the captain's cheerful chirping can be heard ringing out from on deck. "Welcome, welcome! Make yourselves at home! 'Tis a fine day as any to sail into the magnificent blue!" he hollers in a richly accented voice to the arriving passengers, an enthusiastic smile on his face. The ship is set to leave in about half an hour, as the gentle winds continue blowing, whispering stories from faraway places. But where the ship would ultimately be headed, even the winds themselves could not yet say...

Characteristic of his 'over-the-top', and almost cliche manner, Ember practically glides down the loading dock toward the first mate. Gliding being a very apt term-- Long flowing streamers of white, gold and sea-blue colored silks twist and writhe in the air, while simultaneously almost luridly languishing suspended within it, as the willowy individual moves past. Small particles of light and shimmering bubbles burst into existence then vanish in a continuous dance about his legs and feet, producing a mirage appearance of a mermaid dancing atop the waves.

Closing in slowly on the first mate, he reaches into the skimpy front of his 'gown', (which is essentially topless, except for thin straps of silk that hold some half-sleeves to his person, which cover his fore arms, and connect to said flowing streamers-- revealing a milky white complexion that dazzles in contrast to the deeply tanned bodies of the dock workers and the ship's crew. Long, slightly wavy red-gold hair dazzles in the sun, suspended luridly in the air like the streamers, waves and bobs as he moves about as if suspended in water) and serenely passes a crisp, bright white ticket to the gentleman, while very conspicuously eying him up and down, then up, ... then down again.

"Hello there handsome;.. I take it everything has been taken care of? It would be MOST UNFORTUNATE if we got there, and I DIDN'T have my things!"

The grandiose gentleman places a wrist to his forehead and sighs loudly.

"I simply MUST look my BEST when I see this years' new crop of hotties-- Nothing else would do! No, not at all!"

[It should be pointed out, that people like Ember are precisely who give normal mages a bad reputation for being pompous, smug, and self-absorbed]

"And my cabin? I was PROMISED a cabin for this voyage! DO tell me all the accommodations are in order, my good man--"

A rattling sound creeps closer as a black-haired man on a chair with jagged wheels rolls towards them and wordlessly hands his ticket to the guy Ember's talking to, reaching around him.

A strangely less ornate ticket. Doesn't seem to want a cabin for himself, even though he looks well off.

As he feels the ticket leave his hand, he rolls around Ember and towards the suspiciously smooth ramp laid between the dock and the boat, the sole barrier to pure ocean meters under it. It's wide enough for his wheelchair but it seems mildly damp due to frequent washing, and it lacks stepping rungs, which worry him even more. It would seem wheelchair-accessible for other people, but in his mind it's not even barely regular-person-accessible, and it poses a problem for his jagged wheels that are otherwise useful for traction in less dignified surfaces.

He's overthinking it.

Small thuds pop as he starts riding up the ramp, inching further and further through... until...

Squeak. His left wheel slips and he spins for about a quarter circle, another thud and he is on a full stop, with the left wheel fully off the ramp and back onto the dock, and the black-haired man in the wheelchair, through his glasses, makes direct eye contact with the people behind him.

"Oh dear, the poor thing--- They really MUST put rails on these things!" coos Ember, as he tucks out the wand concealed under one of the half-sleeves of his gown, and gives it a mindless flick toward the man in the wheelchair, then just as nonchalantly, tucks it back again.

Obnoxiously flamboyant and billowing clouds of sparkles and mist coalesce under the errant wheel of the chair, lift it gently up on that side just above the surface of the gangplank, then nudge it back on before evaporating in the light breeze.

"Now, where were we?"

Viviana was practically jogging to the ship, she always hated being late. Sure the ship was not departing for another half hour, but time scale still worried the elf woman.

Her dress was modest by all definitions of the word, particularly in comparison to whatever manner of flamboyancy one of the other passengers further up ahead was wearing. It's tan cloth was form fitting, yet revealed no curves. Her sleeves nearly reached her wrists, and although the skirt could not reach her knees, her leg wear met her boots in a way that revealed no flesh. The only striking thing about her clothing was the jade pendant that hung from her neck, in no small part bringing out her own green gems for eyes.

"One standard ticket" She offered with not but a courtesy smile, here eyes more drawn to the action up ahead.

A smug smile crosses Ember's lips as the young elf girl presents her ticket, then wordlessly moves past him toward the side of the ship, and the half-turned man in the wheelchair.

Unconsciously, he rubs the base of his jaw and twirls a finger in his long flowing red hair while quietly muttering to himself, still waiting for the ship's first officer to answer his 'very important' concerns about the voyage.

('oh my... you can FEEL the frost off THAT ONE... Oh, But you don't fool me little-one, I know you're a hottie deep down underneath all those tight fitting little rags.. Oh yes.. I DO wonder where she's headed..')

For how slow the wheelchair was lifted up by Ember's unnecessarily flashy magic, the left wheel so quickly rolled back off the ramp.
He'd sigh if he could. He glared at the 'girl' with red hair, then noticed the 'child' elf looking at him. His eyes focused on her bright green pendant -- strange ornament for parents to possibly give a child... or is it stolen? Where are her parents? Is she... is she missing fingers on her left hand?
He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It's not his business to pry.

He gripped at his wheelchair, reversing off the plank and back on again, attempting to ride across once more.

Not wanting to be rude to the man, Viviana simply waited at the bottom of the ramp. Her excess nervous energy came out in the form of tiny electric sparks, arching between her fingers as her hands fidgeted together.

She became eminently aware of her missing digits. Although the scars were relatively minor, and she had some use of the stumps that remained, the lack of their presence was still cause for embarrassment in her eyes.

Despite the promise of luxurious accomodations once there, the academy really seemed to skimp on her travel expenses.

The young man with a strange foreign attire came out from merchant cart. He headed to the jockey who was also a merchant.

He received a few gold coins and a first class ticket. He asked why giving fancy ticket rather than the standard one. Merchant said he owe him much by protecting his cart from several wave of bandit attacks.

He have no choice to keep and proceed to the ship on board.

He handed the fancy ticket on the ship crew after the elf's turn and proceed to tour himself on the exterior part of ship.

He found a man struggling with his wheelchair. He caught the handle and smile on him, giving him a boost.

He then proceed to the bottom ramp to look around.

Gripping the hilt of the sword strapped to his side the aged man looked on his guard, his gait as he walked along the pier in weathered and scuffed boots had but a slight limp barely noticeable to those not paying close attention. He had the telltale mark of a hired blade, but years of the trade had taken their toll for the likes of the sellsword Valen.

Ship travel never sat well with one particular serpent, moreso a lengthy trip across the ocean. Unfortunately there's little choice for Verdant in the matter. Really, it was juuust a minor baronet that she offed but they had to drag out all her criminal record and issued a manhunt. Big bummer, the pay was not worth it. Thankfully no one quite expected just how fast can she travel overland, reaching the port and will be off in her merry ways before the net expanded this far out.

Being able to transform into snake certainly helped though.

A lowkey uneasy Verdant can be found over the deck, surveying the town quite away from just about anyone else. Half an hour before departure. Half an hour for something to went wrong. She's dressed in dull green, from the shirt to pants to the travelling cloak, the color faded from age and dirt almost to the point of matching her skin tone. Her only luggage is a vaguely ovoid lump wrapped in cloth, tightly held under her arm. And she's barefoot, if anyone were to examine closely.

More passengers still boarding, she idly observed. Some flashy magic kinds. Civilians. Men with arms. None looked like the authorities. Soon enough, soon. Maybe she'll come back in a few decades after this.

After the assistance from the strange young man, this black-haired man in a wheelchair was finally ready to explore the actual ship. The first thing that stuck out was the amount of weapons surrounding him at any given moment. The metals in them made his bones crawl, from the three weapons carried by the young lad that pushed her up the ramp, to the ship's crew, the noble lady's guards, and some small cloaked person carrying a bunch of daggers. The dampness in this whole place added to his anxiety too. This place is too far from safe, yet this was a voyage he needed to take.

He stopped at the other side of the ship, not too close from the old man and the noble lady. He pulled a lever just above the right wheel of his chair, which seemed to be some kind of brake function that kept his wheels from rolling. In his coat he reached inside to take out a flask, and lowered his face mask just enough to not reveal his lower lip. He took a swig of a clear liquid from the flask. It seemed like water.

He noticed the old man staring at him. "This is not edible for you. I'm not sharing."

Having waited patiently for the, less monibile-y inclined, person in front of her, Viviana made her way onto the ship. First and foremost, she had to check to make sure her footlocker was there. With measured, but hasty steps, she made her way below deck, searching for what would be her bed

Found it!

The minor electric magic she had been toying with in her hand popped and fizzled out, not even her subconscious could dedicate the energy to its maintenance. She quickly opened and analyzed the contents of the medium green box. A few pairs of clothes, her notebooks on various spells, and a small note from her parents. "To be opened on making it to university," it seemed she would only have to wait until the end of the voyage to see what her family had to say.

To pass the time, she retrieved her book labeled, "Alteration, the school of environmental manipulation" Her skimming, and general closed off body language suggesting she was not particularly interested in talking to anyone just yet.

@wierdw (Re: roleplayerguild.com/posts/5368072)

The burly first-mate blinks at Ember's approach, noticeable anxiety building with each of the latter's gestures and words. By reflex the crewman takes a wary step back as the... unconventional-looking mage reaches out with his ticket and starts eyeing him up and down. Hesitantly he receives the ticket from Ember's hand and inspects it, a decidedly uneasy expression lingering on his face.

As other passengers begin arriving, handing in their tickets and boarding the ship, the first mate timidly turns back to Ember, as if hoping the mage's inquiries and ogles had somehow magically vanished at some point. "U-uh..." he stutters, looking like he had forgotten what was asked, or maybe had never understood in the first place.

"Y-yes! Right, your room... sir... u-uh--" He deftly points towards a set of stairs on the ship, hoping to draw the mage's attention away from himself. "A-All accommodations have been prepared below deck! P-please address the captain if you have any concerns, thank you!" he reassured in a practiced voice, managing to stumble over his words only moderately, before doing an awkward salute - for what reason it was hard to say - and putting on his most welcoming smile, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as his breath sounded like he had just swam a mile.

@Grade (Re: roleplayerguild.com/posts/5368345)

The old fellow sitting on the stool nodded politely at the man in the wheelchair. There was a solemnity to the old man's demeanor, like something distant weighing on his heart, as his gaze returned to the sea, but not before taking another curious glance at the man and his sitting contraption.

As if just to prove that it was possible, the continuous torrent of effervescent bubbles and sparkles surrounding Ember's legs and feet practically erupt in a dramatic, and thankfully momentary display in unison with the full-body reaction of their conjuror.

"OH SPLENDID!" he chirps, while doing a short hop on one leg, and kicking backward with the other, all while making 'jazz hands' overhead. (in addition to making a gyrating wiggle side to side in excitement)

"I shall be below deck, if you need me handsome!" he coos while making a kissing expression and a wink, as he regains his composure, and begins gliding once more for the main deck of the ship, the effervescent shower of bubbles and sparkles following in his wake.

"Be sure to come see me if you need ANYTHING at all~" he lilts over his shoulder, while stifling a titter, as he strolls out of sight and onto the deck.

Done by touring himself. The ronin is having second thoughts going on the cabin because from what he wears compare to the others. The only fancy on his thing is his authentic katana sword attach on his hip and a special crest marked on his quiver along with unique looking long bow.

He is standing a while long before the entrance.

Eccentricities aside, the sellsword simply gave but a measured look to those boarding or paying their fare for the voyage aboard the vessel before them but Valen had nothing to say. Wordlessly he untied a sack that jingled as Valen took it from his side, dropping it in the man's hand sitting at the boardwalk on his stool "One ticket." he said gruffly, affixing his stern gaze upon the man. Holding out a hand for the gentleman to give him his ticket.

... Okay, that old man looks sad. The man in the wheelchair decided he's not gonna bother him in the nearest future.

...

He glanced at the sea, then the rails on the side of the ship. He took a pocket watch from his coat and brought it back in. He swiped his hair and slumped in his seat.
It annoyed him that he can't shake this bad feeling off. A regret forms in his decision to ride this ship; maybe he should've just crafted his own boat and sailed on it, regardless of how much slower it would have been.

He glanced at the side opposite the old man, and there was that aforementioned rich woman with the guards. He waited for her to take a glance at him -- quite the awkward duration, that -- and waved at her and said greetings.

As he reached midship portion of the upper deck, Ember casually snapped a finger, and the bubbles and sparkles abated. It was then he noticed the poor wheelchair bound fellow waving at what was most assuredly a very wealthy, if not noble patron-- if her attire and her escort were any indication.

Instinctually, he took in her (and her entourage's) clothing, sizing up the competition. It wasn't all together terrible, but it was your typical provincial seamster's fare, just with nicer fabrics.

The smug smile curled on Embers lips again. He would surely have to get this woman acquainted with his designer fashions.

Discretely, he made mental note of her approximate measurements about the waist, bodice, length of torso, how leggy she was, the style her hair was in, -- even her choice in colors and textures-- before hardly skipping a beat and continuing his glide toward the lower deck.

This would require some discretion; A change of clothing would be in order, then some light conversation to introduce himself and his business. Surely, they knew of him, even out this way. His panache was legend back home...