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Maggie had been right about one thing in her various grumblings about Finn - he had given her more than enough extra chores to fill up her day. She had spent the morning on the sunny deck, scrubbing it with sand and then sweeping up every little grain. The task had been so tedious that she was actually looking forward to her next one - sorting through the food in the mess to get rid of the worst of it. At least then she'd be able to sit down.

The girl made her way down the stairs and into the mess, heading for several barrels full of food. It seemed a waste to her to have to throw out so much food, but the quartermaster was strict. They would stop again in port of they had to, but the crew would not be made to suffer through moldy rations.

Alajas was busy sorting the food as edible and throwable when she heard someone join her. She looked up, and saw a woman eyeing the scene.
"..... Hello."

"Hey," Maggie replied, arching an eyebrow at her. "Guess you got stuck with kitchen duty too, huh?"

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04 November 2005 @ 01:42 am
Morgan was early to his bunk tonight. In a vain attempt to get some sleep at nights, he was retiring earlier and earlier every evening. Tonight the men were having some kind of gathering on deck, and so Morgan had taken his leave as soon as his duties were over, thinking it would be some time before he was disturbed.

The bunkroom was completely empty; the only sounds were the ship's ever-present creaking, and the busy sounds of the men finishing up their duties for the day as quickly as they could before their merrymaking could begin.

He was dog-tired, but still could not sleep, instead turning from side to side in his hammock, making it swing with the energy of his fidgeting. "This isn't going to work," he stated to the air around him.

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04 November 2005 @ 01:37 am
Morgan wasn't sleeping very well.

He wasn't entirely sure what it was about Maggie that got to him so. She was very pretty, but he'd wooed many pretty girls. She was lively, sure, but also coarse, nothing special about that. And it wasn't as though he was desperate for female affection, for all that he missed physical contact while at sea.

No, there was just something about Maggie. But damned if he knew what.

After their encounter on deck, he'd seen almost nothing of her. 'Twas true that she was much occupied with her duties, but for the past couple of nights she was in her bunk and apparently already asleep when he entered the bunkroom - very unlike her. He felt sure she was avoiding him, and he wasn't sure exactly why.

And so of course she was keeping him awake. Not least because his dreams were now far too frustrating to be allowed to run unchecked through his mind.
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01 November 2005 @ 06:26 pm
The evening drew in, and Morgan was, as usual, on deck. He liked to spend as much as possible outside during the summer months of long light and good weather. His harp in one hand, ever-present apple in the other, he wandered to the aft of the ship, looking for a quiet place to sit, or perhaps for Finn to talk to.

Instead he found a sullen Maggie, her back wedged up against the railing. He nearly missed her - for once she wasn't surrounded by a group of sailors, and she was being uncharacteristically quiet. She was scowling, her chin resting on her knees and her arms wound tightly around her legs.

Morgan frowned. "Are you ill, Princess?" he asked in greeting.

"Go away," Maggie said, frowning up at him. "I don't want to talk to you."

Morgan dropped to the deck, sitting cross-legged in front of Maggie. He placed his harp and his apple beside him, and leant back on his hands, looking up into the sky and noting that the moon was out - though the sky itself was not yet fully dark.

The girl growled and shifted away from him, still scowling. Her hair was no longer in the neat braid Morgan had made. Instead it fell down around her shoulders, slightly wavy and windblown.

The lad simply leaned back onto his elbows, stretching his long legs out into the space made by Maggie's shuffling. He began to hum a gentle melody to himself, and closed his eyes, smiling at the feel of the light night breeze across his face. Clearly he wasn't going to break the silence.

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30 October 2005 @ 12:21 am
Maggie spent the entire day after her and Morgan's little encounter over cards studiously ignoring the minstrel. She tried to engineer it so their paths never crossed, and when they did, she looked through him as if he wasn't there. He noticed that she was acting extremely friendly towards the other sailors as well, laughing and joking with them as she worked.

It seemed she couldn't avoid him forever, though - when she pushed her way into the bunkroom that evening she saw him sitting on a barrel, grinning down at the gathered sailors as he tuned his lyre. It seemed they had implored him for an evening of music, a regular enough occurance on long voyages at sea. Maggie ground her teeth together and brushed past, muttering under her breath as she climbed into her hammock.

Morgan noted her arrival with a smile and a polite nod of his head, but nothing more. He plucked a few chords on his lyre to check its tuning, and nodded to himself. "Well, gents, what shall we have tonight? A chanty? A ballad? An aire?"

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27 October 2005 @ 01:42 am
The days were busy aboard the pirate ship Astyrian - filled with endless tasks and constant vigilance to keep the ship running smoothly and soundly. Each man (or woman) had their tasks, and Finn ensured that no one shirked their duties. It wasn't until nightfall that the crew was able to relax and truly enjoy themselves. Liquor was passed around, fantastical stories were shared, and sometimes even mild flirtations were bandied about.

Maggie found herself gradually becoming more comfortable aboard the ship. Her outgoing nature and quick smile meant that she was even popular with even some of the more cantankerous sailors. That night an impromptu card game had begun belowdecks and she had taken it upon herself to gather up a few more players. Spotting Morgan sitting on his own, she skipped over and nudged him with her bare foot. "Get up, you're playing with us."

Morgan, as usual, had been sitting eating an apple. This time he was also scribbling in a leather bound book. He looked up irritably at first, then he saw who spoke and smiled.

"Good evening, Princess," he said. "What's the game?"

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26 October 2005 @ 12:12 am
Some time after his discussion with Maggie, Jay headed out of the map room. As much as he hated to admit it, Maggie's words had really stung. What right had she to remarks upon his hand anyway? What did she know?

Foul mooded and distraught, he went down to the mess area to get something to eat and hopefully put the conversation out of his mind. That didn't stop him from sitting there with his knife repeatedly trying to flex his stiff fingers around the handle. The effort brought a sweat up on his brow. Once he'd finally succeeded at it he held the knife up only to have it slip loose and clatter to the floor.

"Bilge that" he cursed and kicked the knife across the floor angrily.

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24 October 2005 @ 05:37 pm
As usual, not a single member of the crew had a moment to think until the evening. As the light began to fade, Morgan found himself back on deck. He'd spent the best part of the day darning sail-cloth - on of the few jobs he was fit for right now, and his spine was aching from being hunched over his work. He took the opportunity to wander about deck a bit, to stretch his muscles, and to seek out Alajas. He had a job for her.

Alajas was leaning against the rail, her ocarina to her lips. Aside from repairing small cracks and chips on the wood, there hadn't been much else that required her skills. She had spent the day trying to play the melody to the latest of Morgan's sea songs. It was coming out well, though there were one or two notes out of place.

"Dada dum dada dedadada dum dum duuum..." Morgan corrected her as he approached. "Well done, though, it's not the easiest melody." He stopped and leant on the rail beside her.

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23 October 2005 @ 06:51 pm
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22 October 2005 @ 05:29 pm
Jay was out on schedule at high noon. He'd been using a peculiar pie-shaped gizmo while staring far out to sea. Eventually he seemed to get bored with this and set to scrawling in a book. This might have been ok except this degenerated into doodling. He'd begun sketching shapes that resembled celestial map ornamentation.

He didn't think anything of it since the only person who ever seemed to ever look in the book was himself and it just happened to be one of those moments when he had a pen in his left hand. The drawings weren't bad, but they weren't likely to win prizes either. He appeared deeply ensconced in his thoughts despite the fact that he wasn't doing anything meaningful and he had yet to plot the ship's location in the charts.