Celestine Starcatcher | First mate | Male | Mentions: Unspecified crewmates

It was dark in Celestine’s quarters, his candle practically burnt out as he hunched over the scraggly piece of parchment he had scrounged up earlier in the day to practise some cartography on. At least, that’s what he had been trying to do. At present, his mind was consumed with thoughts of that…mystical orb. They had been so close – he had been so close – to everything he had been vying to reclaim for over half a decade. He gritted his teeth, ink pooling where his quill met the page, ruining it with large blotches. He was too frustrated to care though. He didn’t care if he had to kill whatever beast took it, or if the crew had to get into a thousand scuffles with the Navy fleet, he was getting his hands on that orb. His breath hitched in his throat, he had more pent up aggravated energy then he knew what to do with, even a usually calming activity like working on his maps couldn’t stifle the trembling of his arms, or the scratching in his bones. He inhaled sharply now, maybe there was some busy work he could devote himself to for the time being. He held no misconception that making himself do a monotonous task would stop himself from thinking of The Orb however, that was a lost cause entirely.

It was only now he really realized that the ink was just getting everywhere. He sighed, slightly guilty about his own wastefulness. Maybe he’d try to salvage it later, though he didn’t have much hope. He left his quill and parchment where it was on the crate in the corner he usually used for cartography, and got up to head to the deck. Things were busier than ever aboard The White Tide, people were obviously a little unsettled that this already risky heist had now just gotten even more unpredictable. As Celestine passed those who were doing work on deck, he gave them each a small and curt nod. He huffed in slight annoyance as the wind blew his hair into his face, brushing it back with his hands the best he could as he came to a stop. He eyed the crow's nest, he could take lookout duty for now, that was something he always had enjoyed. He liked being close to the sky, it wasn’t enough to cure the insatiable homesickness plaguing his heart, but it did make him feel somewhat more…whole.

“I’m going to take lookout duty,” He called over his shoulder to no one in particular, already halfway to the crow's nest. "You can yell if you need me. Can't guarantee I'll hear, though."

As his hair flew into his face again he realized how much of a pain being up there was going to be unless he used something to tie it back. He turned around and walked back across the deck, scrounging through barrels for some spare string no one was using. Eventually, he emerged victorious with some scraps in hand. He then struggled to put his hair up for the next thirteen minutes, much to his own embarrassment considering he was right in front of a decent chunk of the crew. Eventually, he managed to put together a solidly acceptable ponytail. He cleared his throat, before continuing to the crow's nest like nothing had happened.

He placed his hand on the lower rungs of the ladder. It was significantly easier to climb now then it had been for Celestine in the past. When he first joined there were a few...unfortunate incidents he does not speak of, usually involving falling off, although never high enough to cause any severe injuries – aside from those to his pride – at least. It didn’t take long for him to reach the top, still with some leftover energy to spare. He leaned over the wooden railing, gazing out towards the sea for a moment, just taking in the scenery. Then, he took the spyglass from his belt, and surveyed the surrounding waters. The Navy was surely going to be the least of the White Tide's worries soon, with the ship setting course for the treacherous Marsur Sea.

Ariadne Savile | Cook | Female | Mentions: Deirdre (ind.) Cynric (ind.) Gore

It was almost dead silent in the kitchen, the only noise breaking the silence being Ariadne’s humming and the sound of boiling liquid. She stood near the large pot, basking in the warmth of the fire below it as she prepared more fish to go into the soup. On the table she was processing her haul of fish for the day, a small pile of haddock, cod, and snappers she had caught that morning. Grabbing her knife, she scraped the flesh of all of the fish, removing the scales from the skin and immediately brushing the remnants into a bucket she held coiled in her tail. She always made sure to keep all the scraps. More scraps kept means more food the chickens can get. Her knife entered this fish’s stomach, quickly dropping the guts into the bucket as well. She quickly fileted the fish, her mind wandering as she performed the repetitive activity.

The last few weeks had been… stressful. For everyone else, at least. Ari didn’t really pay much mind to the peril they were currently in. The Navy following them? It’s probably fine. The ship was currently heading into dangerous waters? Sounds like a nice adventure. The treasure they were searching for got eaten by some sort of beast? Cool! Wonder what it was… Gore would probably know about it once they found it. Old captain is dead? Ok yeah that’s unfortunate, but the new one is nice! Cynric was very nice, and she greatly enjoyed their company. She nodded as she set the skeletons aside, pausing her work in order to grab a bowl, ladling a portion of soup into it before she continued. She quickly chopped the heads off the skeletons, dumping both them and the bones into the broth before adding some freshwater she’d been soaking some dried seaweed in into the pot. The bones would boil, creating a flavorful stock, she’d just have to remember to take them out later.

She took the filets, cutting the meat into small chunks and dropping them in the soup as well. All that was left was to let it boil. A smile crossed her face as she stretched her arms over her head before grabbing the bowl of soup she put aside and making her way out of the kitchen. The fresh air filled her lungs as she slithered onto the top deck, looking around briefly. She noticed Deirdre, quickly shooting a wave to the medic with a big smile. She continued with her search, making her way to the ship’s helm where she found Gore.

Ari moved next to the sailor, holding out the bowl of soup she brought. “Have soup for if hungry.” She peered at the compass he held, squinting her eyes in an attempt to see it better, though ultimately failing. “Still move?” Her gaze briefly moved to the horizon where she assumed the compass was pointing. “What think ate Orb? Biiiig creature?” She paused, pursing her lips as she thought, trying to imagine such a beast. Her gaze moved to the dark clouds above the sea, her tongue flicking out of her mouth to smell the air, her nose wrinkling in response. “Sky smell angry.” A small sigh escaped the cook as she moved to the edge of the ship, coiling her tail under her as she ‘sat’ with her back against the wood, her eyes fixed on the mass of clouds.