the_isle | This Is All Hands On Deck

The view from the currently accessible strip of beach on the Isle was generally fairly monotonous; a somewhat distorted stretch of ocean and sky extending to the horizon. The occasional shape of a passing seabird and - at one point - a set of silvery shapes that could only have been a pod of dolphins were the only real things to break it up.

Not so today. Because today there was a Shape. It was difficult to make out clearly what the shape was at first, only that it was getting larger, or seemed to be as it got closer. It soon became clear that the shape was far larger than any sea bird or even a dolphin, and that was when the call went out. No one knew for sure who had been the first to yell a combination of warning an announcement, but soon enough, everyone on the Isle was aware of the situation, and most, if not all of them had come out to watch and wait to see what - if anything - would come of it.

Eventually, the shape got close enough to identify it as some sort of boat as it halted as near to the barrier as it likely could. Everything was quiet for a moment but before long, raised voices could be heard from the opposite side of the barrier. It was difficult to make out what they were saying due to a combination of the barrier, the noise of the waves, and simple distance, but there was clearly some sort of argument going on on deck. The question was what did it portend for those on the Isle?

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In the few hours since the professor went to the shore, he had not left. He had run some small experiments, while there. While he had answered questions at first, but no straight answers, nothing clear. He had been very much in teacher mode. Whatever he was thinking now, he wasn't sharing. And the small box he was holding gave few clues. Like everything else here it looked made of scrap and leftovers. But clearly he expected something from it as he kept fiddling with it. It had a small light at the top, but it never once was lit.

When the shape appeared, however, he stood. The rest of his supplies were quickly stowed in his bag and held over one shoulder. But he kept the box in his long fingered grasp as he watched the shape through the barrier. If not for the breeze ruffling his hair and beard and robes he might have been a statue for how still he stood...

Edited Date: 2023-12-04 04:08 am (UTC)

Something was up, you know the headmaster had to check it out. Of course he was hanging out against the wall of the bait shop. Not immediately obvious as he played a coin across the backs of his fingers and watched everyone else. Something was going down, and he was gonna find out what.

Whatever was going on was none of her concern, thank you very much. She was in her classroom, ready for any student to cross her path. To teach them the true meaning of cross...

Somehow Mother Gothel didn't seem to be aware that anything was going on. At all.

Anyone surprised? Anyone? Anyone? Really? No one? Shocking!

Anyway, she can be found in her classroom, taking fake selfies with a cracked mirror.

The bats had taken to doing surveillance every day, and they were always happy when they had something to report. Did it have anything to do with the burst of magic not too long ago? Hitching her guitar on her back, Morgana set out to see what was happening on shore.

At the shore, she crossed her arms and tilted her head, trying to squint and think. Was this an attempt to have someone save them? Or, if one wanted to be cynical, an invasion? She almost wished it was the latter - she had so much anger and frustration to vent, she'd love to clobber some knuckleheads to let it all out. Maybe take over the boat, yank her fellow prisoners on board, and sail on to new adventures, like the coolest kind of pirates.

If anyone dared to approach her, she didn't look at them but she did talk out loud. "So. Friend or foe? It's not exactly giving off 'heroic vibes'..."

Foulques squinted a bit, trying in vain to get a clearer view of the vessel on the other side of the barrier. "Tis no warship, that much is plain," he said. "Nor is it a merchantman; it's too small to be either. A fishing vessel, perhaps, or a pleasure boat. Though whatever it may be, tis little wonder it doesn't look especially heroic; like as not keeping a small vessel stable in rough seas is something of a struggle."

Morgana chuckled quietly - the idea of a merchant-anything was laughable, on an isle that made the words "dirt poor" literal. "At least it's decent entertainment for the day. I've been so bored, I can feel the cobwebs growing in my skull."

Her spider made a grumbling noise in her hair, so Morgana reached up to gently stroke him. "No offense, Archie."

He made a thoughtful noise, still not taking his eyes off the boat. "Perhaps," he said. "Though whoever is aboard her, I'm far more interested in what information they may have than in how they might entertain us. They could only have come from the mainland, and there's been no word from them for some time."

Some time? Had that meant there was a time they'd heard from the others at all? She now glanced over.

"When was that? Must have been before this place decided to yank me in and give this place some real flavor."

"It was some time before I arrived here as well," he said. "I learned of it from Professor Yen Sid. The young king used a device called a 'television' or 'T-V' to send a message that could be seen and heard here. It informed those present on the Isle at the time that he and his people intended to come, and that the offer that had previously been made still stood."

"Knowing this, if I had to hazard a guess, it seems likely that that vessel carries the young king, or at the very least, his emissary. Though what they might have to say remains to be seen."

This Is All Hands On Deck

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