Voices on the Winds (ATTN: All & Lyra - Starter Thread)

The waves lapped against the Northern Star's wooden side, repairs for the day having stopped and the night taken hold. The midnight waves lush against the still warm rock and wood of the dock. It was peaceful for once, even the voices of the drunk and rowdy seemed that little bit further away tonight.

However it was with one such smooth wave that a pale hand reached to the side of the ship she could reach, holding there as a beautiful young face appeared from the depths, taking a breath of the warm night breeze.

Looking around it took a few moments to be sure of a lack of fishing hooks or tackle. The mer-woman pushed her long curls from her face. Pretty almond eyes peering up to the windows of the Captain's quarters, softly her song began, voice echoing and swaying like the waves she laid in.



The song's lyrics meant for the ears of one inside. A message perhaps, but the voice can be heard by any around, it's captivating, inviting, able to melt the coldest of men's hearts and draw upon a warmth, however created it may be.

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Lyra shifted where she rested within the Captain's quarters, her attention immediately pulled towards the presence of the song. Pulling on the restraints that keep her from wandering far she stretches as far as she can to peer out the window to the waves below. A single tear rolls down her cheek as she presses her forehead against the glass lightly. Eyes closing she listens to the melody of the song.

The song continues, holding on the winds and dancing to the ears of those who can hear it. A delight to itself to experience. To some it may make them sleepy, others dreamy and some just lustful and needing. But to Lyra it's a message of hope. The words a caress of love from a hundred sisters just out of reach.
Through the mind of the young one these words are whispered.
"Sister.. the sea misses your touch.."

Lyra takes a deep breath, her mind holding the feeling deep and close. A longing rose as she remembered the gentle push and pull of the waves, a feeling that she has desperately missed. The spray of the sea on the breeze brought a small shudder down her spine. Oh how she missed her sisters. Their song lingered in her memory, a melody that would never fade within her heart.

And I it.... and I it sister.

Sadness seemed to hole in the air, emotions that carried with such weight they could have brought a hardened man down to his tear withered state.
The little sister outside hung her head from her shoulders in this said heavy tone, her face a picture of the song she sang.
"Father Neptune has heard your tears, he shed a tear for you in return. He had feared your scale sliced by the fisher's blade. I hear his song in the depths for the time we may see him again."

Lyra slowly opened her eyes and watched the sea below, tears lingering in her eyes as she listens closely. The longer her sister lingered however, the greater the risk to her. The fires of hope have been rekindled within her heart, but with heavy sadness it was time to send her family away. This was no place to linger, especially when there were those that knew how to catch the Sirens.

With deep sorrow you must go sister. It is not safe to linger here. I will keep your song close to heart and within my dreams. I shall await with baited breath for the day we are reunited. Guard the sea and serve Father Neptune well. Forget me naught, I will return.

The little siren felt her own eyes well with milky tears, she quietened but for a while she lay with her arms embraced to the side of the Northern Star. Head leant to it wooden shape. Her lips brought to a small turn of misery at the thought of leaving her sister in such confines.

Lyra could not see her, but felt her presence linger in the area. Her heart broke a touch as she could feel the pull of the sea and her sister. It would be far worse if the nets were to catch another of them.

Please... sister. I could not bare it if you were to be caught as well. It would break my heart.

The little siren sighed softly, the music clouding them from the others of lesser minds.. it was a layer of flimsy protection perhaps but the little one peered up at the window to the captain's quarters, too far away to see Lyra or be seen but a little quiet beg pulled at the older siren.

"Please sister.. sing just once so I may bring your song to the oceans.."

Closing her eyes once more, Lyra took a slow breath. The silence built before her voice rose to drift about the cabin. Slowly it made its way through the cracks of the door to meet and dance within the soft ocean breeze. It was a soft, quiet melody that brought it the feeling of a gentle embrace. The magic within the song was subtle, and though it taxed her she poured her remaining essence within it to ensure that it would dance within the ears of her sister and the depths below.

The smaller siren dips back down into the water, letting a few motions of her long silvery tail send her racing and dancing beneath the gloom of the waves, smaller fish and life circling and joining in. The motion of the waves above the only clue of movement but the little one is close enough to share the movements with her stranded sister. When Lyra's words fade however, she can feel her little sister move off for safety yet not far enough away to be unable to hear Lyra's calling.

As she feels the presence fade, Lyra lingered at the window for a few long minutes before making her way back to her small bunk. It was unlikely that the songs were missed, but it was worth it none the less. Sitting down she seems to just wait, her hands unbraiding her long hair to let it fall freely about her.

Morgan, dressed as close to a dandy as his limited wardrobe allowed, silk blouse and fitted breeches bound with the leather of his sword belt strode up the gangway with a confident stride, knee high boots clomping over the wood as he walked. Too late for the song which would have captivated a wonton heart such as beat in his breast and too early to ignore Lyra's enchanted voice stopped. Almond eyes darting amongst the shadows of the still deck and settling on the still fire blacked rise that housed the captain. He drew a deep breath through his nose and donned a frown he knew he would need in his employ and resumed his march, this time, with a new and altogether more critical destination. A gloved hand settled on the woven iron basket of his rapier as it's brother lifted the latch holding Emerick's door.

"And what, prithee was that?"

A handsome face is endearing in all but the most grave circumstances... It's the fierceness of character that takes sway in those moments when propriety and civil order are threatened.. Moments like the one that threatens with the black cloud recently settled around Morgan's ears.

Lyra slowly turned her amber gaze to the figure that walks through the door. Seeing that it is Morgan she watches him quietly for several long moments before answering.

"Nothing but a song. It was not meant to cause trouble." She says in a quiet sing-song voice. Even when she is not singing, her tones hold rich melodic tones within them. Her hands finally release the last of the knots, her hair falling about her features in rich waves.

The frown creases into his cheeks when his jaw tightens. Morgan shifts his weight from one boot to another.

"Where is the Captain?"

It's quite clear that Morgan doesn't consider the subject closed, more like he doesn't have anywhere to go. His demeanor screams that he'd love to accuse, accost, punish... something... but he lacks justification and that fact is irksome to him. It's plain in his eyes and no effort is made to hide it.

Lyra moves just a touch with what lay within his gaze, it brought forward a slight defensive posture to settle into place. She retreats a touch into her bunk as if that extra distance would offer some grande protection from it. They both knew it wasn't the case, but instincts are what they are.

"He went up onto deck a while ago... perhaps try the Bordello, where he likes to drown his sorrows." She says quietly.

Just behind Morgan, heavy boots on the floors of the deck announce the approach of someone else. "What was that? Who was singing?" He narrows his eyes as he looks around. In his right hand, hanging low, is a flintlock. Clearly, he's ready to shoot someone. Or at least, something.

"Morgan. keep her singing. I'll check the water around the ship."

Morgan nods without looking, the gruff baritone of the Quartermaster needing no introduction.

"you know nothing of sorrows... but you will... Now, sing."

Morgan steps closer, sensing her perceived threat and while relishing it, for it was his desired effect, secretly loathing that he possessed the capability. He leans, seemingly naturally, against a shelf, intended for books but in reality housing a treasure trove of interesting, but ultimately worthless relics of Emerick's superstition. Talismans from a sheep shagger in Whales, effegies of some freed slave in Barbados who claimed to have brought magic with him from Africa, a straw fetish from some tribal cannibal far to the western reaches of the Carribean. Junk all but priceless for the captains faith that these would somehow shield him, and them by proxy, from the worlds ills. Not that they'd worked so far. Morgan keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword as he settles in, eyeing the merwoman from between narrowed lashes.

Lyra raised an eyebrow lightly as she watched Morgan closely. Her eyes drifted to the sword that his hand rested upon before she slowly let them move back to his features. With a very slight tilt of her head she lifts her chin a touch.

"I am not your song bird and this is not your cage."

With a small breath she squares her shoulders just a touch, her hands taking firm hold of the edge of her bunk.

Tilly hasn't stayed for the debate. Out on the desk, he walks the rails, leaning out to look for anything that worries him. Spotting another crewman, he barks an order. "Check the ship! Look for anything swimming near us in the water. If you see a woman, shoot her."

"Don't deceive yourself. You're not my captive, for I would have put you to the sword, but a captive you are. It's only a brothers love and reverence that keeps this from being 'my cage'. Now will you do as you've been told or do I have to get creative to convince you?"

The boy turned man showed steel in his features while he slowly and deliberately pronounced those words. He may not be a monster, but to him... she certainly was and there is only one thing to do with monsters. No matter how distasteful he might find it, given the silk lace round the swines head.

"I am hardly deceived and I am not going to sing for you. I know well my circumstances." She says quietly but does not lose the raise of her chin. She swallows slowly as she continues to watch him very closely, her eyes unwavering in this moment. She was not deluded on why she is still alive.

"I am not your song bird Morgan."

The boom of a shot rings out. Possibly killing a passing bird. Tilly shouts. More shouting. Some of it probably from crew surprised by the shot.

Morgan looks to the door, his are not nerves of steel but the moment as well as a captives defiance have put him on edge so he's hardly startled by the shot. With a deliberate but not slow movement he turns his attention back to Lyra.

"Perhaps it was unnecessary, after all... but there is still an understanding to be reached. Maybe Mr. Tilly will be satisfied with a scream rather than a song?"

He grips his sword and begins to pull it. It's a bluff, but not for lack of enthusiasm or cowardice, it's simply because the Captain likely would not appreciate any marring of his new toy that he himself did not cause.

Lyra remained where she was and waited. She did not move as he started to pull his sword. She highly doubted that Morgan would risk Emmerick's wrath, especially with his temper raging out of control these past months as he drinks himself into oblivion.

"You will get neither Morgan. Perhaps it would be wiser to go see what it was that someone just shot. It is not as if I am going anywhere."