In which Idanwyn and Seran go fishing in the Ruby Sea and a Bet is Made. (Also, in which there is Much Mushiness as we have not RP’d these two together in at least a month!)
Seran Lancier: The Ruby Sea's dusklit descent into sapphire was well underway by the time they alighted: Idanwyn had teased him when he'd stumbled over the lip of the boat in the deceptive darkness of the twilight hour. But his recovery had been slick. The highlander tumbled forward, letting out only a momentary hiss of pain. He landed on his side, sprawled out like a luxuriating model, flimsy shirt baring half a nipple as he wormed into a more provocative pose. “[Join me, pale moon,]” he cooed, in the same voice as the Kugane oiran who'd mewled at her as they'd passed.They set out beneath the stars, and in time found a comfortable spot below a hole in the passing clouds. Above and below, a blue cavern, one into the heavens, one into the abyss. Beams of moonlight made a broad chapel of their spot in the ocean, and beside it, a school of fish.
I'm going to catch a giant squid, Seran thought to himself. But Idan would tease him yet again if he shared his bold plan. He thought of the best way to tell her, still clad in the frills of their night on the town.
"I'm gonna catch a giant squid," said Seran, and his steel fishing rod bobbed with the current of the waves.
Idanwyn tweaks his nipple with a low chuckle, replying, "[The classic parable of the nipple in a tidal lock with the moon...I see you have been studying your high poetry.]" Removing her bodice first, then her trousers and blousy undershirt, she stands fully nude under the night sky for a moment, reflecting the moon she occasionally resembles. "I've got tae put me ain tits away, an' sae should ye; ye ne'er forget th' first time ye miscast an' get a hook caught there." Shuddering at the clearly-real memory, she rolls her clothing into a neat bundle, tying it within a tarp and exchanging it for another similarly-tied tarp within a small crate. In a few swift motions, she's dressed in her Isari fisherman's pants and tight-fitting sealskin top, crouching down to bait her own rod. "A squid, ye say? A giant one, nae less? This goin' tae be lit' catchin' a shark, or..?" Her tone and demeanor are easygoing and lightly playful; she's clearly in a mood to indulge him. Who knows; perhaps Nymeia will smile upon Her son this evening.
Seran cringes at the thought of a hook through the nipple, though it seemed like virtually all of the women and a good many of the men he'd once patrolled through at the Quicksand had clear experience with the matter. Seran watches her beneath the moon, reaching out without thinking. His hand trails across her neck, down her shoulder.
A tug on the line draws him back to the sea, but it fades quickly. There is only the unquiet calm of the sea at night, and her honeyed words. She is feeling affectionate towards him tonight, even for her. He can tell it immediately, when she indulges his moments of pique, much like a cat allowing the loafing of a dog it might otherwise swat."I say easier," Seran suggests. "Less teeth. More surface area. Per capita? Much easier." The math does, in fact, check out.
Idanwyn closes her eyes, enjoying his gentle show of affection. She baits her hook after a moment of consideration. "Ye t'ink sae, lad? Suppose it couldnae hurt tae try...might be as ye've th' strength tae haul it up, even." Standing to her full height with the easy grace she always has on the water, she watches the waves for a moment before casting her own line. "Are ye lookin' tae put yer gil where yer mouth is, love? Or are ye jus' tryin' tae impress meself an' Llymlaen, both?"
Seran ponders this. "Hmmm... ye wish t'make a wager of it? Aye. Let's do it as such: if I can catch a giant squid, ye'll prepare it for the entire crew, an' ye'll do it alone while we cheer ye on. Seems a task fer a mighty captain an' chef such as ye, aye?" He cackles at the thought. "But, if I fail, then whatever else we catch I'll take t'the kitchens, and I'll run the galley for a night... I'm sure ye'd love to critique my techniques, wouldn't ye?"
It was a dangerous wager. Idanwyn would spare no mercy for an untrained hand in her glorious kitchen. Seran's eyes twinkled. He did want to impress Llymlaen, teats and all. And what vengeful goddess of storm and sea did not have love for an ambitious and confident man swaying gently upon her bosom?
Idanwyn grins mischievously, nodding her head. "Tha's a mighty good wager, Seran. Ye're on...though I'm warnin' ye, I'll need tae scrub me skin raw after preparin' such a t'ing." Llymlaen, it was said, did indeed love such sailors of fortune; her devoted captain was no different. "Sure an’ aye, th’ wager tis on, then. I'll give ye a hint; ye'll need a long line, an' much bigger bait; ye might want tae weight th' net fer assistance. Counterweighted tae th' starboard o' th' boat, o' course."
Seran follows her advice- there is a different between a bold wager and a foolish one. He is set up well, trawling deep, the ocean calling to them both. They do not talk any longer of the Nixie or her crew. Seran worried, when their journey aboard the ship began, that they would find themselves at odds, that the stresses of leadership and responsibility would drive a stake through their bond.
It had done the opposite. The times that they spent aboard the ship only bound them up closer. The trust that had been the mortar of their relationship was now the foundation for a family of sorts. That, Seran teased her for. She had been so adamant that they would never have children. In a way, they had dozens, a brood they had chosen, not birthed, a clan made entirely of its own volition.
Apart from the ship, in the nights they spent together, they put the weight of it out of their minds. On these nights, they were simply travelers and lovers, meaning nothing to the world, and everything to each other. Seran let a tug pass into the night. Not a giant squid.
The Sea Wolf woman watches him as he unfurls the weighted net, tossing it over portside, puzzling it out, then looping the tail of the manta-ray-shaped net over to the sturdy steel hooks on the boat's starboard side. It took him time, of course, but as with everything he did, she was always impressed with the tenacity that inspired him to see things through. A man mountain-born and desert-raised; a good captain in a sea of filth; and here he was, with an unlikely captain above a sea of coral and long-held secrets, and...he still managed to figure things out. He never gave up, and never hesitated to defer to her expertise; and even then, she realized, such expertise was quickly learned by someone with a deft hand and a tactical mind, both qualities her husband posessed in spades. "Careful, there, love. Wi' those skills, ye're goin' tae net us a squid that'll drag us down tae Sui-no-Sato, if we're lucky, an' straight intae th' Hell o' Fire, if we're no'." Her lilting accent is as suffused with her affection for him as it is her gentle humor. It's clear she's sincere in her praise, however; she checks over her shoulder, listening to the boat adjust its weight as the net lurks in the waters below. Her own line comes back with yet another flounder; she seems pleased as it goes into the bucket.
