Participants:
| Scene Title | Passengers |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A mariner and his first mate run across two mysterious clients. |
| Date | September 27, 2015 |
"Jimmy!"
Bounding through the ship's door from the deck, the energetic bundle of nerves known as Destiny springs into the air and throws her arms around the captain. James Woods meets the embrace with a firm hug, spinning the young woman around and then carefully setting her down on her feet, fingers raking thorugh her hair in ruffle.
"Good lord, ain't you gettin' big?" Woods notes with a flash of a crooked smile. "What's got you all in a bustle, then?" Slowly disengaging from the embace, Woods adjusts a backback over his shoulder and tilts his head to the side in thoughtful consideration of the young blonde.
"I got us a charter!" Destiny notes with her hands still firmly wound in Woods' mustard-colored sweater. Woods' expression shifts from curious to concerned, and he look spast her thorugh the ship's door to the deck and the creaking metal dock beyond.
The Featherweight
Isles of Manhattan
September 27, 2015
8:12 am
"Charter?" Woods rests a hand on Destiny's shoulder and steps past her out of the cabin. Destiny's eyeline follows Woods, her hands curling up into the long sleeves of her own sweater of matching color — though she insists it's goldenrod not mustard. As Woods steps out onto the deck of the ship, he squints against the misting rain coming down from cloudy skies. The sea of choppy today, sending his small boat bobbing on the waves.
Woods' ship rests in the looming shadow of a crumbling skyscraper, rising from the ocean depths, covered with barnacles and seaweed at a ten foot band around the water line. Standing out on the old, rusted crane that connects to his ship, Woods spies a pair of would-be passengers on the warped plywood platform atop the crane. He wipes water from his eyes, smooths a hand over his wild mop of hair, and watches them with silent suspicion.
One of them is sleight, balding, with large and expressive eyes. His wool peacoat is stitched several times at the shoulders and patched at the elbows, but is in otherwise excellent condition, he mat well come from the remote mainland. There's an old suitcase in his hand, leather peeling from the corners to reveal water-damaged wood.
At the traveler's side is a waifish blonde, taller and thinner than her companion, hair as wild as the sea and eyes just as dark. She has a scarf of handspun wool around her neck, mismatched boots, patched jeans and a simple sack slung over her shoulder. Something about her is familiar, but Captain Woods can't place his finger on it. Patting his side to feel if his gun is still inside the pocket of his coat, he steps out and toward the ship railing.
"Hey there!" Woods calls out, Destiny behind him. "We ain't takin' Charter passengers. Ship's too small, can't make it to the next 'Pelago, and we don't go to th' bloody mainland!" Woods glances back at Destiny, whispering sharply. "Who are these people?"
Destiny shrinks back, eyes wide. "They— they said they knew your route and wanted passage. Jimmy, they paid in advance." From the pocket of her sweater, Destiny pulls a mason jar full of seeds. "They had planting soil from the mainland, too."
Woods' brows furrow incredulously, and he looks back to see the two prospective passengers approaching down the makeshift docking arm. Woods reaches for his gun, but the short man raises his unoccupied hand and offers an affable smile at the same moment. "There's no need for that!" The traveler calls out in a tiny voice, "Captain Woods, was it? We don't want to go to the mainland or the other archipelegos."
Destiny shrinks behind Woods, and the blue-eyed man approaching them smiles again and sets down his briefcase carefully. "My name is Edward and this," he motions to the woman at his side, "is Else. We want to go north," he says with a raise of his brows and an expectant stare.
To which, incredulously, Woods replies, "Tha's pirate territory." But he side-eyes the seed samples, then looks to the two again.
"I know, but I also know you have a pirate on board, don't you?" The traveler motions to the ship, and Woods looks at Destiny with accusing eyes. Her response is to wave her hands frantically in dismissive gestures of I didn't say anything.
"Th' fuck's up north?" Woods barks back at the travelers, and they look at each other for a moment. Then, the so far silent woman steps forward and asks an unusual question.
"Do you know how to find Boston?"
Woods' silent stare says everything.
Crew Cabin
The Featherweight
Isles of Manhattan
"Absobloodylutely not!"
Captain Woods stands up so fast he hits his head on the hanging lamp over the folding card table. Clutching the back of his head with a wince and a grimace, Woods backs away from the table and glowers at the two seated at the table on either side of Destiny.
"I understand your concern," Edward says with his hands pressed together in a prayer-like gesture. "But I assure you, Else is an accomplished seer. As long as we pay attention to her warnings, we can circumnavigate the threat. We've done it before."
Both of Woods' brows shoot up at that and he swipes one hand over the top of his head. "No. I don't care if y'bloody well swam from here t'the mainland on the back of'a mermaid! M'not takin' my wee tug up into Sawyer's territory."
Pinned between the two, Des makes a noise in the back of her throat and folds her hands atop the table, looking at Woods with wide eyes. Woods meets her stare, then shakes his head and flails an arm wildly. "No! Nope! No way, no how, no! Y'can't pressure me with them puppy dog eyes!"
Edward and Else both look at Des, then one another, and then look silently at Woods. Feeling the tone of the conversation turn, Woods stares at the two relative strangers, then Des. "What?" Woods asks, "What's with this whole silent stare thing. Dess, the hell is this all about?"
Des looks down to the table, hiding her hands in her sleeves, and then looks to Edward who reaches out and rests a hand on her shoulder. He nods, slowly, and then looks up to Woods who stares vacantly at the blue-eyed man.
"You adopted Des, when?" Edward asks, and the fact that he knows that Des is adopted has Woods rankling his noise and clenching one hand into a fist. Looking left and right he considers the room, then settles a stare back at Des, who just looks away sheepishly.
"In 2007," Woods notes with a furrow of his brows, "the year after the terrorist attack. She'd been livin' on the streets, an'…" Woods looks to Des, then back to Edward. "The fuck's this got t'do with anything, Eddie?"
Else slowly stands up, pushing her chair out with her legs. "I'll be above deck," she says quietly, then starts to make her way out. Woods once more smooths his wild hair down, then looks at Edward who motions for Woods to take a seat. Reluctantly, he pulls the chair out and settles down with a furrow of his brows.
"We need to talk about where Destiny came from," Edward says with a slow raise of his brows, firmly squeezing Des' shoulder with that hand he'd laid there. Destiny looks up, eyes reddened with emotion, and Woods starts flicking a suspicious stare between the pair.
Des smiles, wearily, and the silence amid the sea noise and the patter of rain on the roof is finally broken by a confession. "Jimmy…" Destiny says with reluctance and insecurity.
"…I may've lied about a couple things."