[IC] Call of Cthulhu: Sea of Nightmares

[Little Mx Inferno]

The day was windy, as was often the case here on the shore. The skies above Ravenhome were a dark gray that threatened rain but so far existed in an uneasy truce with the town below. As was always the case, the air was filled with the smell of the ocean, though sometimes scents of food of many varieties would find its way through the streets.

And in Ravenhome, three people have just become bound together by fate, or destiny, or perhaps something as simple as coincidence, these people have set out to investigate the wreck of an old cargo ship, and are going to find far more than they bargained for.

[Austronaut]

Mona walked determinedly through the grey afternoon. It seemed appropriate to her that the weather was bad, she would never paint a shipwreck in the sunshine. The sand, still warm from earlier sunshine, felt good on her bare feet. Ahead of her the dark mass of the shipwreck loomed. It had a morbid romance to it alright, perfect. Reaching into her purse she drew out a sketchbook and began to work.

She lost herself in her art, she stood by the sea sketching furiously, trying to capture mood and ambiance. It wasn’t until she made the first strokes of a figure that she realized she wasn’t alone on the beach. With a start she looked up.

“Buonasera, um I mean that is good afternoon,” she called.

[Horrid]

Earlier...

"Closing up now. Pack 'em and stack 'em, Odes." The large man in the tight white shirt grumbled at him, a tired smile on his squarish jaw. The soft silhouette of a woman in the kitchens shifted from left to right, stacking dishes as high as her own head. Each one was hand-scrubbed and sparkled so clean that... well, you could eat off it. The full-figured woman in the kitchens untied and hung up her apron quickly, grabbing her purse and keys from the hook. Her shoes hit the tiles with a rhythmic clacking as she jogged out the door and took up her position at the grated security doors. Locking up was routine at the diner, but having a fire clear out all their patronage for the day was not.

"A shame I never got to roll out my pie." Odette said with a pout. "And that the fire damage isn't covered." The man chuckled, shaking his head as he turned the key in the final lock to the diner. "Yeeaaaah. A real shame that some punk came in with lighter fluid and a box of matches." He eyed her with a look of amusement. "Your pastries were lookin' mighty nice. And the pie wasn't half bad either." He chuckled harder as she gave him a playful punch in the arm and walked off in a fake huff, sashaying her hips slightly more than usual. "Do shut up, Joeseph, before I give you another broken arm. I'll see you next week." She waved, as did he, and they went their separate ways.

---

Right now...

The shoreline was beautiful at all times of the day, at least that is what Odette herself felt. She had taken her shoes off, to feel the sand between her toes. The sea rolled in all its majesty, and Odette was enraptured. Everytime she came out here, she found herself staring dumbfounded at the ocean, like a connection was present between her and the vast dark of the water. Though, today she knew there was another reason for her gaze to linger on the horizon. The shadow of the wreck in the distance pulled at her curiosity. Her attentions were held, but she was not without her ears.

"Buonasera, um I mean that is good afternoon," a voice called from the shore.

Odette's head turned fast enough to send her hair into whirling frenzy. Another person, here on the beach. A girl, and an artist. How novel, she must have gained inspiration from the wreck. Morbid, but novel all the same. With a warm smile and a wave, Odette spoke. "Good day, dear. What brings you to the shore, in such a lonesome state?"

[Austronaut]

Mona let out a little gasp as the woman spun to face her. Her pencil scratched on the paper, the disorganized way the wind caught the woman’s hair, the swirl of motion were the perfect counter point to the lowering wreck. For now it was just a sketch, but later she could bring the scene alive with oils.

Mona felt herself relax slightly, the beach seemed a little less desolate now that she was sharing it with someone.

“I came to draw,” she said trying to sort out the English words in her mind before she spoke them.

“I read the article in the paper about the shipwreck, such a strange thing, I thought it might inspire me.. for my paintings.” She felt foolish saying such things to someone she hadn’t been introduced to.

“Mi dispiace… I’m Mona, Mona di Luccio.”

[Horrid]

Odette smiled down at the young woman on the sand, her dress flapping in the light ocean breeze. The spray of the waves washed over her as she smiled down at the girl. Mona. Such a pretty name. Italian, judging by her looks and accent. There were so very few true Europeans around, especially with the general attitude of close-minded bigotry and suspicion.

The girl stuttered and paused, tipping Odette off to her weaker grip of the language. She had to place her hand over her heart, how precious she was. As she edged closer, the corners of her mouth crept up and she spoke softly.

"It's lovely to meet you, dear. Call me Odette."

It didn't take long at all for her to take a seat on the sand not far from the young woman. Her smile was stuck as she looked over at the artwork.

"Oh my, you're rather good. Rather a strange source of inspiration, but I'm not one to judge. I find myself... enraptured by the ocean more than usual, recently." She was using all the high-flown vocabulary she had in an attempt to sound like a cultured intellect, and maybe bridge a connection.

[Austronaut]

Mona smiled sunilly.

"One can only paint so many rural landscapes before you want something new. There is something strange and... how do you say... haunting about the coast with the shipwreck."
"It seems an old thing, like a convent or a castle in Italia, here in a new place, the new world." Her mind flashed back to her childhood under the Tuscan sun. It seemed immensely far away on this rain swept beach.

She gazed up at the ship wondering why it had not been salvaged. A sole madman on a shipwreck, a metaphor for something surely.

"I wonder if it is ... legalio? legal? to go aboard," she speculated. A faint blush warmed her cheeks.

"I'm sorry my English, I've only been here a year or so with extended family."