"Yes, it would seem so."
Galina would have liked very much not to worry, as Souma seemed to wish to reassure her. Though her expression was as serene as that of a lovely carved church Madonna, that solemn, dark-eyed gaze watched him intently as he took a sip of the drink he poured from the once up ended jug, and then placed it before her. The irony of his reassurance he would not poison her, was not lost in the least on Galina.
No, not in the least. Not any more than his meaningful glance to her shoulder, the one he'd used to pin her like a butterfly to a board with his "cane." No one would be hurt if all "goes well." But Galina was a proud woman, and though her shoulder ached fiercely, the pain only compounding the nausea in her gut? She steadfastly maintained her long-accustomed poise, reaching for the small cup Souma offered with that same arm -
- Though she cradled the cup in both hands when she sat back, lifting it to her lips with her fingertips as she took a sip, the same as Souma. The drink was dry, just a little sweet, rather like a white wine but... Not. Certainly not vodka, though it was very good nonetheless. And the slight burn of alcohol, with its little warm fingerlings, was very much a relief - though not one she would indulge. She took one more, longer sip, and then set the cup back down to the cradle of her hands, nestled atop her skirts.
"You appear to have gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to bring me here. Getting through the layers of Russian security and intelligence to request my presence specifically... Impressive. I give you that." Galina never once thought, simply was not near so vain, as to imagine she alone could be the reason for so much bother, the coordination and the staggering sums it would have taken to arrange her personal arrival aboard the Empress.
She sighed softly, her gaze not wavering from Souma's own dark eyes for a moment. She shook her head slowly. "But if you believe I can retrieve the schematics from the Winchester home, you are mistaken. Those are long since turned over, and I could not lay hands on them again if I wished it. Not to save my life, nor Klara's."
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Damn it Kuro - I just shot soda out of my nose reading... *wipes screen clean* 
And yes RR, that looks amazing hon XD
And yes RR, that looks amazing hon XD
Congratulations on the new bike RR! 
What did you get?
And yes, Ragnar is - of course - scary as hell wrapped up in awesome. Not that you need it, but fwiw? I'm most heartily approving! *thumbs up*
What did you get?And yes, Ragnar is - of course - scary as hell wrapped up in awesome. Not that you need it, but fwiw? I'm most heartily approving! *thumbs up*
A beautiful good morning to you all 
Hope you've all been well, and those were wonderful reads, Tirg and Derren - go Team Death! *cheers* Sorry not so much of the chatting, yesterday was long and shitty. But this morning I woke feeling so much better, and to two wonderful notes - one from a precious friend with a message I didn't even know I needed to hear until I did; and another that was just fun, creative and quirky and altogether just made me smile. Thank you both, for helping me remember just how blessed I really am.
I'm going to go ahead and pass on my turn to write this time around, to wait and see how everything goes with Team Death unless someone directly addresses Veti. So please do not wait for me to write before driving on with this wonderful story!
Hope you've all been well, and those were wonderful reads, Tirg and Derren - go Team Death! *cheers* Sorry not so much of the chatting, yesterday was long and shitty. But this morning I woke feeling so much better, and to two wonderful notes - one from a precious friend with a message I didn't even know I needed to hear until I did; and another that was just fun, creative and quirky and altogether just made me smile. Thank you both, for helping me remember just how blessed I really am.I'm going to go ahead and pass on my turn to write this time around, to wait and see how everything goes with Team Death unless someone directly addresses Veti. So please do not wait for me to write before driving on with this wonderful story!
*hands Kuro a couple freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, the awesome homemade chewy kind, for not looking!* You've got waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more willpower than I ever had!
And welcome back Jinxer, and congratulations! *confetti toss*
You've got waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more willpower than I ever had!And welcome back Jinxer, and congratulations! *confetti toss*
Team Death... Awesome Dot, and it did not seem rushed in the least
Awesome Dot, and it did not seem rushed in the leastGalina whirled on Souma, recovering her footing easily from the shove, grey skirts whirling about her legs and the kindjal still in her grip. She was furious: furious with herself for traipsing so easily into this deception designed just especial for her, furious with the humiliation and the hurt and her abject failure in most every possible way, from the moment she boarded the Empress. Her teeth bared in a feral snarl, Galina's eyes narrowed with dangerous promise as she took up an oft-practiced stance, the kindjal held at the ready. Tendrils of long dark hair had fallen about her face, slipped from their confines in the brief struggle and only lending to the impression of a wild animal backed into a corner.
Obviously the "cane" was far more than it seemed - and Souma was most assuredly neither lame nor crippled as she had once believed. Goemon closed the door behind him in his hasty departure and, assumedly, secured it as well. The "cane" - or whatever the hell it was - gave Souma the advantage in reach, even in these closed quarters - though Galina was loathe to admit as much.
'If he wanted you dead, you would already be... '
The young woman blinked, a lifetime of iron discipline suddenly animating her every move as she took a single, deep breath. Galina swallowed the rising nausea that threatened, born of the surge of adrenaline combined with the burgeoning seasickness she'd battled before she even entered the room. She found a small point of pride, that her hand barely shook at all when she stood to her full height from the fighting stance, and showed the kindjal almost ceremoniously to Souma. With just as little fanfare, she bent to sheath the long dagger back beneath her skirts. For a brief moment, Galina thought she might yet grab the pistol, but she did not like the odds on distance and the obviously expert way that Souma held the cane.
Instead, she simply stood once more and, turning her back to Souma, walked sedately toward the small table on the floor. Nimbly, she settled to the floor in a perfect circle of skirts that resembled nothing so much as the bloom of some somber grey foliage, her legs folded beneath her .
"I will not run." Galina righted the upended jug that, she noted, still contained a good deal of whatever liquid it was meant to hold.
"But please do not allow your man to harm my traveling companion. She is truly no more than she seems, an old woman who can bring you no trouble. Klara does not know your face, much less imagine that you are here. She has only heard your name once, at dinner... "
She grimaced at the memory, her face flushing with embarrassment, knowing very well just how tempted she had been to see Goemon locate this wistful facade of Takahiro Souma she had so meticulously crafted in her head. Galina could not look at him for the moment, and so her nimble hands put the tray back to right, neatly reordering the small cups that had been so precisely laid out upon it. He and Goemon could have a grand laugh over her ridiculous, girlish naivete later if they wished - that was the least of Gaina's worries. It was far too late to pretend that her old nursemaid meant nothing to her, to give Klara the protection of feigned indifference, and she did not even bother with the attempt.
"And she could not possibly make any connection to you." Her small task accomplished, the tray as symmetrically composed as she could make it, Galina's hands were folded neatly in her lap once more. "Please. Only do this, and I will give you no more trouble."
Obviously the "cane" was far more than it seemed - and Souma was most assuredly neither lame nor crippled as she had once believed. Goemon closed the door behind him in his hasty departure and, assumedly, secured it as well. The "cane" - or whatever the hell it was - gave Souma the advantage in reach, even in these closed quarters - though Galina was loathe to admit as much.
'If he wanted you dead, you would already be... '
The young woman blinked, a lifetime of iron discipline suddenly animating her every move as she took a single, deep breath. Galina swallowed the rising nausea that threatened, born of the surge of adrenaline combined with the burgeoning seasickness she'd battled before she even entered the room. She found a small point of pride, that her hand barely shook at all when she stood to her full height from the fighting stance, and showed the kindjal almost ceremoniously to Souma. With just as little fanfare, she bent to sheath the long dagger back beneath her skirts. For a brief moment, Galina thought she might yet grab the pistol, but she did not like the odds on distance and the obviously expert way that Souma held the cane.
Instead, she simply stood once more and, turning her back to Souma, walked sedately toward the small table on the floor. Nimbly, she settled to the floor in a perfect circle of skirts that resembled nothing so much as the bloom of some somber grey foliage, her legs folded beneath her .
"I will not run." Galina righted the upended jug that, she noted, still contained a good deal of whatever liquid it was meant to hold.
"But please do not allow your man to harm my traveling companion. She is truly no more than she seems, an old woman who can bring you no trouble. Klara does not know your face, much less imagine that you are here. She has only heard your name once, at dinner... "
She grimaced at the memory, her face flushing with embarrassment, knowing very well just how tempted she had been to see Goemon locate this wistful facade of Takahiro Souma she had so meticulously crafted in her head. Galina could not look at him for the moment, and so her nimble hands put the tray back to right, neatly reordering the small cups that had been so precisely laid out upon it. He and Goemon could have a grand laugh over her ridiculous, girlish naivete later if they wished - that was the least of Gaina's worries. It was far too late to pretend that her old nursemaid meant nothing to her, to give Klara the protection of feigned indifference, and she did not even bother with the attempt.
"And she could not possibly make any connection to you." Her small task accomplished, the tray as symmetrically composed as she could make it, Galina's hands were folded neatly in her lap once more. "Please. Only do this, and I will give you no more trouble."
Hello everyone - I just wanted to say that I'll be pulling Brigid from this RP (not that she was much of a force anyway, but still best to say something than disappear I imagine). Thank you for having me in the first place, and wishing you all the very best in future RPs.
So looking forward to your post Dot - and hello there! *waves* And yes, everything here at least is going wonderfully in my 'neck of the woods' at least.
Oh, and "Guardians of the Galaxy" is hilarious! The plot of course is... Well, it's a plot. But the dialogue is amazing, the CGI beautifully done, and the one-liners just never, ever stop XD I haven't laughed in a movie that much in a very long time - highly recommended, but of course just my opinion and ymmv!
Oh, and "Guardians of the Galaxy" is hilarious! The plot of course is... Well, it's a plot. But the dialogue is amazing, the CGI beautifully done, and the one-liners just never, ever stop XD I haven't laughed in a movie that much in a very long time - highly recommended, but of course just my opinion and ymmv!
Monsieur Jax' admonition to sneak to the deck was truly not the least trouble for Luc. Forever and a day, his Maman was chiding him for stealing about on cat-light feet, startling her at her cooking or the laundering or the cleaning with a yelp, a sigh, and then a long-suffering roll of her eyes.
No, sneaking unnoticed above deck was not the least trouble at all, any more than the work Monsieur Morneau had set him to. Luc had been scrubbing and scouring pots and utensils from the time he was even smaller than he was now, and the boy's ability to watch a pot and not let it set to boil was something of a small miracle to the beleaguered ship's cook.
After the morning prep work had been completed, and with the promise he would return before dawn, Morneau let the silent, hard-working child go do as he pleased in the evening hours. Silent, because Luc had taken the Captain's words very much to heart. He should not speak unless spoken to, and he was yet to earn his place among these men.
Silent, even when the friendly, familiar and perpetually smiling face of Monsieur Jax had come to steal him away, and induct him into the secret Cabin Boy's Club. Luc had never been more proud than he was at those moments, when Jax told him he'd once done just the things he did now - and that even Captain Lightfoot may have at one time as well. A helmsman now, and even a captain - if there were a more ringing endorsement of the humble cabin boy's position, Luc surely could not imagine it.
Silent, even though he desperately wished to share this amazing story - a tale all his own! - with his beloved Tante 'Tonia. Feeling just a twinge of guilt for keeping these matters secret from her, Luc reasoned this was not a matter of life or death after all, but perhaps for the slim getaway through the hawsehole - and Luc doubted even his lithe, slender aunt might fit through there anyway.
Yes, Jax had said these must remain the cabin boy club secrets, and secrets they would remain.
The boy treasured all the helmsman shared with him, swiftly putting all those valuable instructions to practice the moment he was free of the galley. The old gold piece Captain Lightfoot had given him for his Maman's pound cake, was secreted away behind that cleverly hidden plank, alongside a silver locket that contained tiny, exquisitely painted portraits of his mother and father. But the lucky shark's tooth Jax had given him? Well of course he wore it about his neck, swaying beneath his loose linen shirt on the cleverly tied leather thong his Maman had fashioned for him.
Monsieur Jax had insisted he would need this lucky little talisman, and Luc would not disappoint the helmsman if his very life depended on it! Cabin boys, past and present, must certainly look out for one another!
Almost instinctively, Luc stuck to the shadows cast by the light of Lady Moon high above. The boy watched the older sailors as they gathered, recognizing from his life in the Parakeet that they had begun to cast wagers, laying coin on whatever "showing off" Captain Lightfoot and Monsieur Jax were about to do.
Quietly, with a near preternatural grace, he climbed the deck railing just high enough to see over the heads of the taller men, without the least worry of falling. Luc had no fear of heights, and had scaled near everything he could find that might have the least finger- or toehold from the time he first learned to walk. There was not a rooftop or gutter or gate wall in Port Royal that remained unscaled and unexplored. And so he wrapped an arm about a thick cord of rope to steady himself, and laughed along happily enough with the crew, those amber sparks in his dark eyes dancing merrily in the moonlight.
No, he hadn't the least idea why they laughed - he had not heard the small jest that sparked their mirth. But his uncanny sight spied the golden, angelic figure of the First Mate as she addressed Monsieur Jax, shirtless and shoeless and apparently preparing for whatever contest he and Captain Lightfoot had planned. And though Tante 'Tonia had once admonished him for staring overlong at the beautiful Nicolette, Luc could see no harm in watching her from afar, when surely she could not be discomfited by his gaze when she did not even notice his presence.
No, sneaking unnoticed above deck was not the least trouble at all, any more than the work Monsieur Morneau had set him to. Luc had been scrubbing and scouring pots and utensils from the time he was even smaller than he was now, and the boy's ability to watch a pot and not let it set to boil was something of a small miracle to the beleaguered ship's cook.
After the morning prep work had been completed, and with the promise he would return before dawn, Morneau let the silent, hard-working child go do as he pleased in the evening hours. Silent, because Luc had taken the Captain's words very much to heart. He should not speak unless spoken to, and he was yet to earn his place among these men.
Silent, even when the friendly, familiar and perpetually smiling face of Monsieur Jax had come to steal him away, and induct him into the secret Cabin Boy's Club. Luc had never been more proud than he was at those moments, when Jax told him he'd once done just the things he did now - and that even Captain Lightfoot may have at one time as well. A helmsman now, and even a captain - if there were a more ringing endorsement of the humble cabin boy's position, Luc surely could not imagine it.
Silent, even though he desperately wished to share this amazing story - a tale all his own! - with his beloved Tante 'Tonia. Feeling just a twinge of guilt for keeping these matters secret from her, Luc reasoned this was not a matter of life or death after all, but perhaps for the slim getaway through the hawsehole - and Luc doubted even his lithe, slender aunt might fit through there anyway.
Yes, Jax had said these must remain the cabin boy club secrets, and secrets they would remain.
The boy treasured all the helmsman shared with him, swiftly putting all those valuable instructions to practice the moment he was free of the galley. The old gold piece Captain Lightfoot had given him for his Maman's pound cake, was secreted away behind that cleverly hidden plank, alongside a silver locket that contained tiny, exquisitely painted portraits of his mother and father. But the lucky shark's tooth Jax had given him? Well of course he wore it about his neck, swaying beneath his loose linen shirt on the cleverly tied leather thong his Maman had fashioned for him.
Monsieur Jax had insisted he would need this lucky little talisman, and Luc would not disappoint the helmsman if his very life depended on it! Cabin boys, past and present, must certainly look out for one another!
Almost instinctively, Luc stuck to the shadows cast by the light of Lady Moon high above. The boy watched the older sailors as they gathered, recognizing from his life in the Parakeet that they had begun to cast wagers, laying coin on whatever "showing off" Captain Lightfoot and Monsieur Jax were about to do.
Quietly, with a near preternatural grace, he climbed the deck railing just high enough to see over the heads of the taller men, without the least worry of falling. Luc had no fear of heights, and had scaled near everything he could find that might have the least finger- or toehold from the time he first learned to walk. There was not a rooftop or gutter or gate wall in Port Royal that remained unscaled and unexplored. And so he wrapped an arm about a thick cord of rope to steady himself, and laughed along happily enough with the crew, those amber sparks in his dark eyes dancing merrily in the moonlight.
No, he hadn't the least idea why they laughed - he had not heard the small jest that sparked their mirth. But his uncanny sight spied the golden, angelic figure of the First Mate as she addressed Monsieur Jax, shirtless and shoeless and apparently preparing for whatever contest he and Captain Lightfoot had planned. And though Tante 'Tonia had once admonished him for staring overlong at the beautiful Nicolette, Luc could see no harm in watching her from afar, when surely she could not be discomfited by his gaze when she did not even notice his presence.
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