Havoc grins and hurries to do as she's told—happy to show any former landlubbers the ropes while she's at it. This ship's a lot bigger than their old sloop, of course, and they're obviously watching what Groshub, Aia and Otodus get up to to guide their own instruction.
Once they see an opening, they quickly see themselves back down to the galley to finish cooking—tossing a chain of sausages in with the eggs and chopping more greens for what's becoming a hearty soup. They also start kneading a flatbread dough, knowing that the landlubbers among them would doubtless be struggling to keep down richer fare and would need to start a little simpler.
But everyone's going to be wanting a good, solid meal, she's sure. It's the first day of the voyage. Best to start on a good, solid footing.
Havoc is a gifted multitasker, as a ship's cook and quartermaster must be. As he works in the galley—slipping back up occasionally to help with heavy lifting—he also works at making the compartment feel like home. He empties the clinking pockets of his coat, revealing not coins, but dozens upon dozens of seashells. Most are small, the shells of little snails and crabs and mussels, but some are as large as Annie's closed fist, great conch and clam and oysters. Some are pierced and strung into hanging chimes and chains to dangle from the ceiling, along with cloves of garlic and a few charms to keep out spirits—as an afterthought, he places the latter closer to the outer walls, to make sure they only hamper
outside
spirits. The only thing he never unpacks is the bundle strapped to his back.
Most reverently, he procures a great half of an abalone shell from his bag. The interior of this shell shimmers like the ghosts of the very waves rest upon it.
Havoc smiles and places this shell in a basket of greens under the porthole, admiring how the sunlight dances across the shell's surface. Then she races back up to the deck to see what else can be done.
25-Oct-2020 23:09:38
- Last edited on
25-Oct-2020 23:13:38
by
YuBiusk Ink
