"Well" dragged on Abi for a moment, contemplating whether to tell truth, ultimately deciding that in order for her to make any sort of allies with the princess honesty, in this case, would be the bes policy. "Well to be honest they didn't allow me on this ship at all. As the ship left the docks, I managed to climb on aboard thanks to a bit of magic." she stated, remembering vividly the near death experience she had to endure while chasing the sand ship. Abi pressed on to address the second comment made by the princess.

"You have nothing to fear your highness, as far as I know, you are the sole person the prince cared about in that entire city" she said with a smile. Emotions of anger at the treatment of those left behind churned within her, though was she any better? She had fled as well. "The prince knows nothing of me, and I will have nothing to do with a man I do not know..." she froze, grimacing within at the mistake she felt she had made "Not that marrying someone you do not know much about is a bad thing...I think what you're doing for the kingdom is wonderful. Yes, very wonderful indeed. I wish you a long and happy marriage in fact" she smiled awkwardly, her fingers playing with her large hooped earrings. Abi hoped she hadn't offended the princess, perhaps she hadn't inherited the smooth and charming manners of her father after all.

They introduced themselves. That was a start at least. Names were such important things.

"Well, Master Rono, Lady Niniva," he paused as he caught himself being polite and formal again but decided to go with it anyway, "I am Former Knight-Commander of the Gavaroche Royal Guard, Lord Damocles Methusaleh."

He smiled wryly. If any of them were to baulk, however briefly, he would be able to gauge how far his name had travelled and how much it had been mystified.

"I am pleased to be able to work with you, and you may just call me Damocles," he reverted to informal speech, "Now I think it is best that we depart. The Mistress of the Summer Blaze, Lady Po, does not like to be kept waiting."

At the same time, he extended his arm in between them waiting for one of them to take it so that they may get out of this ruined city and on to what really mattered.

Chataigne was taken aback. She'd noticed the woman's nervous fidgeting and crude sarcasm. "So, a stowaway... for all I know, you could be an assassin. The only reason you haven't run me through is that this ship is traveling too fast for you to make your getaway." She eyed her clothing. "Come to think of it, the way in which you refer to the prince and my love life is awkward and imposing. Guards!" Three heavily armored men standing nearest the hatch jogged to the princess's side.

"Your highness?" The largest of the bunch inquired.

"This woman lacks invitation on this most prestigious vessel. I know not if she wishes to harm me, but precaution is one thing that I did take from my father. If you would." She motioned for them to restrain her. "Don't be rough. If she's innocent, I want her set free." The guards surrounded Abi and pushed her toward the hatch. "I suggest you go with them. We can sort this out like ladies, not barbarians."

"Assassin?" Abi sputtered "I'm a mage, not an assassin" she insisted. However it was too late, the princess had already called for the guards. She sighed in annoyance, and resisted the temptation to say more like paranoia in response to the princess' call of caution. The guards gently restrained her and pushed her to the hatch, she shrugged them off indignantly and whirled around with an imperial expression, one she had seen her grandmother on her mother's side use many times when dealing with the lower class.

"Don't you dare touch me with your peasanty peasant hands" she said in a snooty manner, "I am a noblewoman and shall walk to my own injustice imprisonment myself." She walked to the hatch with her nose held slightly elevated and her posture stiff. She would probably have to lie to the princess from now on if she was expected to live, and she was glad that she had not met the princess earlier while at the boring court sessions. She opened the door to the hatch and entered all the while mustering up every bit of snootery and classical nobility from all her ancestors.

Methusaleh, where have I heard that before? Rono thought. It was probably a famous name spoken in taverns and other public places, though Rono kept to himself unless it involved whatever job he was on (a practice by most mercenaries, he assumes). It felt like he should've remembered, like a tiny important word in a conversation...

If his face showed a expression for this, he wouldn't know. "Yes, we should go see her then." Rono said, grasping Damocles's arm.

"A pleasure Rono, Damocles" Niniva remarked somberly, she was unfamiliar with either of them, even by name. She was grateful for this, it was better to have met them fresh, than for either to have heard of her before. She assumed such a feeling was mutual. With a pleasant smirk, she took a step towards Rono. "Let us depart then, wouldn't want to be left behind, would we?". Subtly she was eager to board the giant, even more so be in such proximity to this 'Lady Po'. Telemichus was working for her, just how many ties did she have to her employers? were there more men like Telemichus scurrying about, spreading misinformation? She had to know, she felt it was part of her duty. That and this Po seemed contemptible, a worthy new target.

"Yes,let's" Rono replied with a grin. He honestly, hadn't thought about the woman much, but since they'll probably have to work with each other, and he hasn't heard about her (for good or bad), he might as well trust her.

He stared at the ship. It felt exciting, risky, and something he couldn't escape from. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

It was evening now. The Lady Bug ploughed her way under the setting sun of the desert sands. Soon it would be night and despite the encroaching chill, the Mistress of the Summer Blaze saw fit to dine with Damocles and his subordinates on the main deck. Before that, they had spent the time getting acquainted to the ship's layout. Their rooms were also assigned to them, or rather, accommodations were made. Niniva was to share her room with the Mistress of the Summer Blaze whilst Rono and Damocles had to settle for the officer bunks. The layout of the ship was also surprisingly well organised and thought, much more so that say, the passages of the Gavaroche Royal Palace, or his estate's back yard. Still, he warned the other two to remain above the main deck as many of the enlisted crew seemed unsavoury. The captain of the ship and most of his immediate officers were quite the gentlemen. Must be their odd three day custom involving courtesy towards guests. Damocles didn't want to find out what happened after the three days went by and he didn't intend to. The closest city that the Prince and by extension, Princess Chataigne, could have fled to was only a night's ride away. They would undoubtedly crest over the last dune to the sight of the Lexmada city prepared for their arrival since the Prince would have already long arrived.

But enough about the future Damocles thought. It was no use to worry about that presently. Instead, his thoughts turned to the food on the table. Each seat had a lacquered wooden bowl of rice, the staple of the Khanate foods, and a small plate made of fine white porcelain whilst the centre of the table lay three dishes. A stew, probably involving making the guts of a fish appetizing, and even that was a delicacy, seemed to be the main course as it was set in the strange metal pot over a small flame, no doubt to keep it heated. To either side was a dried dish of meat, vegetables and chilli. They were dried chilli and they would be mild on the tongue but the dish was completely dry and Damocles could only wonder how this was prepared. There was a short spoon for soup and two sticks flanking his portion. He recognised the chopsticks, being not a stranger to Khanate culture. Damocles wondered as he started to eat in silence though, how were the other two faring with their dinner.

((HINT: Just because its now evening doesn't mean you can't recount the adventures you had before it was evening.))

Rono didn't exactly focus on anything going on, fighting with a sudden bout of fatigue. What he had remembered was going on the ship, which was easy to go around. Damocles warned him to stay above the main deck, away from most of the crew. Eventually, he was assigned to a bunk along with Damocles, and Niniva was with the Mistress (although he was slightly nervous about that). He took the rest of the time fixing his pistols in his bunk, before facing a painful headache from nowhere that made him drop a gun. "The name, and now a headache, if my mind has something to say, say it." he grumbled, massaging his forehead.

Before he knew it, it was already evening, and the three were seated with food on a table. In front of him were two sticks and a spoon, giving him more trouble with the food. He paused and simply stared at the food. He sighed and asked for help in using the tools.

Chataigne rolled her eyes. Abi's feeble attempts at sounding aristocratic were sub-par, at best. It would have made things easier if she would just shut up, but princess's refrained from speaking in such slanderous ways, so she held her tongue.

Feeling exhausted for no particular reason, she began seeking out a suitable sitting area. A roofed circular location with cushioned benches immediately became her new favorite spot on the ship. The decor reminded her of her own bedroom, white silk and green tassels hanging here and there. It was so comfortable...

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She awoke several hours later. The sky had turned a deep blue and the engine's roar was much softer. They had apparently slowed down, seeing as all immediate danger was long past. Light footsteps broke the silence, entering the doorway in a whisper. It was the female guard that had brought her here in the first place.

"You're awake? I hope I did not disturb you, your highness." She bowed as if she were a man.

Chataigne rubbed her stale eyes. "No, I slept quite peacefully.. These cushions are far more welcoming then they appear."

The woman laughed and motioned for her to follow. "Please, miss. We've been preparing to interrogate the suspicious individual that stowed away on board. We might need you there for questioning, if you please."

The princess did not object. If she hadn't been so lethargic, there might've been a fit of trouble about social class and standards. Thankfully, it went unnoticed. Within the bowels of the ship, Abi's cell seemed to get darker by the minute. It was surprisingly high-class, for a prisoner's enclosure. There was a bed with a canopy, a bureau, and even a vanity table. Even though the lighting was bad, it was impossible to complain about condition in which captives were treated.

Suddenly, the wooden door to her room opened. Five guards, along with their leader and the princess, entered. One of the guards ensured Chataigne that the bars were secure and nothing could harm her. She wasn't worried, though. Abi didn't look dangerous at all and her magic would be dangerous to use in such a confined space.

The woman standing next to the princess spoke to Abi first. "What is your name and why are you here? Furthermore, do you intend to bring harm to the princess of the kingdom of Gavaroche? You will answer truthfully or be killed on site." Chataigne did nothing to protest this. She could care less if Abi died, especially if she were out to kill her or lie to everyone.

((I'm done waiting for you Nini!))

Rono sighed and asked for help in using the cutlery. The Mistress was more than happy to oblige, replying in a voice of a seductress.

"Oh my dear boy," she spoke, "I would be happy to help you in anyway possible."

She was about to stroke his chin as she said that. Damocles who had finished striking the last flecks of rice from his bowl in to his mouth interrupted them with a polite cough, as polite as coughs could be anyway. He wanted to change the subject before the Mistress claimed another but she did it for him. Her hand pulled away almost abruptly from the young boy and set it gently on the table. How the woman had finished her bowl whilst attempting to seduce the boy was a small mystery to Damocles but he kept quiet on the matter as she spoke.

"So, how fares your brother Damocles?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Your master Igneus?" Damocles responded feigning friendliness before he spat, "He's dead, or at least, he is dead to me."

Igneus Methusaleh, one of a greater magi in the world, was his brother. Damocles could go on lengthily about his falling out with his brother. It all happened a long time ago and it would have stayed at the level of a simple family matter if Igneus wasn't appointed as the Regent of the dying Gavaroche. Not a lot of the common folk knew that though. They simply contented themselves with their belief in their king as he slowly died of whatever was poisoning him. Igneus was not was not especially kind nor cruel as war tended to muddle the waters with regards to actions of an individual during a battle. Knowing what she would ask next, he simply frowned.

"So what kind of fool did my master make of himself this time?" she asked feigning ignorance.

"He's been busy," Damocles answered.

He didn't dare continue under his breath, "Busy purging towns that did not support his rule."

(Oh skittle snaffle, >.> ive been busy, so sue me x.x add my MSN/YIM/AIM and tell me when youre waiting for me specifically x.x )

Niniva had pulled her hood back over her head and kept a low profile since taking board upon the vessel. She had been informed of the crew, the potential hostility, and took upon it appropriately. Instead residing herself to her assigned quarters. She kept silent to herself, head lowered down as she ate. Truth be told she was nervous to be have been assigned so close to the Mistress, she wanted to know more for sure, but didn't exactly wanted to get killed whilst doing so. Caution would have to be taken, of the highest variety.


She wasn't entirely familiar with Khanate cuisine, less so with their utensils. Her right hand, shakingly held the chopsticks, correctly, if uneasily. She was more tired than hungry, trekking all the previous morning to arrive at the city and meet with the accomplice.. only to have it attacked and fuel a hasty escape. Her eyes floundered between the other occupants of the table, ears keen on their words though she offered none of her own.

Did the mistress not know she had been in league with Telemichus? she herself had been the obstacle in his path towards securing the princess, afterall. Yet here she sat, dining with her on her ship, she figured not. The longer she remain ignorant to the prospect the better.. she thought to herself. Along her left forearm, concealed by the robe, lie a branded mark. This mark was also found upon Telemichus' forearm, wherever he may lie dead now. This coal colored marking as the sign of familiarity amongst them, and to the informed, a giveaway of who they are. None too many knew, but someone of her stature very well may.. Damocles as well... She would ensure it remained concealed.

OOC: Oh and my bad as well....I checked this topic and I was supposed to make a post but then I got sidetracked...and then I forgot.

She sighed audibly, "As I have stated before, I am Lady Abilasha Raveena Nancy Jasraj. Daughter of the dunes, speaker to the Djinns, keeper of glass, child of the old and the new, seer of the future and member of their most esteemed highnesses of the courts of Gavaroche." She breathed in deeply, she never would have thought that all the foolish titles and names her parents gave her would ever be needed, and was pleased that she had remembered most of it. "I have come upon his highness' ship in order to seek refuge from those who had attacked the town. I was witness to the witch who came to the ports in pursuit of the princes and I struck one of the men she sent to attack the beloved Princess. It was then that I saw the sand ship leaving, which was necessary to protect the princess I understand and I, for reasons unknown exactly to myself decided to jump on board...perhaps it was because I saw that her guard had been consumed by the flames...and she might need someone her own age from her home country for companionship...If not I suppose I would need a ride home, for my father is probably worrying about me back at the castle."

She touched one of the many bangles on her arm. A sky blue, Sahibian forged glass bangle. Made with the finest sand forged in magical flames, and hardened to the point of near unbreakability and a perfect medium for storing magical energy. On this specific bangle, engraved in gold were two delicate roses crossed in front of a spiral, her family crest. She slid it down her right arm in clear view of her lowly keepers, and offered it to the princess with a curtsy."This I offer to you as a token of my truth, my friendship and my family's crest as proof."

"Miss Abilasha, I assure you the Lexmadan elite are skilled enough to protect--"

"Wait, did you say my bodyguard was consumed by the flames?" The captain was taken aback by Chataigne's interruption, but allowed her to speak. "Consumed, as in... death..?" Her brow furrowed, showing a slight expression of worry. She ignored the emblem and continued to stare at Abi, hoping for her answer to be anything but confirmation.

The captain noticed the look she was giving the prisoner and decided to keep her from becoming any more distressed. "Have no fear, your highness. That man appeared very strong. I'm sure he's completely unharmed. Even if he is wounded, your kingdom's hospitals are the best in the land!" She showed complete confidence when she spoke, being careful to conceal every shred of doubt. It appeared to ease the princess's mind, but just barely.

She addressed Abi once more. "Alright, so you're assuming the titles of speaker, seer, and keeper. Quite a hefty arrangement. Do you have proof beside that withered old talisman? We do not log the crests of the noble families of Gavaroche and I'm sure the princess does not remember each and every one. I'm afraid we'll need more proof than just that. Do you have any legal documents? Something you couldn't just steal off of a dead body?"

Try as he might, Rono couldn't exactly resist the Mistress's words as not try to sputter a "That's okay". Luckily, Damocles interrupted and he felt relived, until the next topic made him listen with great intent. 'He was the Regent?' Rono thought. Sure, influencing others through emotion might be a favorite amoung speakers, but to be of that high of a class?



OOC: Gah, can't think of anything, anyone want to control him?