The case she holds at her side carries a meager amount of her possessions. The sound of the Zee lapping against the port of London nourishes her soul. She fills her nostrils with the Zee-air. The hustle and bustle here is like an old friend. She contents herself to just walk around.

As she walks, she might notice a crew unloading their ship. A Truthful Skipper, her peligin curls streaked with viric, is stacking crates of surface food onto a cart.

A Silent Acrobat brings her the crates from the gangway, her half-pink, half-brown hair tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of the way while she unloads, a white streak visible on top.

A Rose-Strewn Huntress, a short girl with red-tipped black hair and the peligin eyes of a monster hunter, carries the crates down the gangway from the deck to the Acrobat.

While a Viric-Eyed Lookout, black-feathered wings arched behind her, carries the food across the deck.

And finally the boxes are being passed up from the hold by a Fierce Figurehead, who appears to be made of wood.

Well, stranger things in the Neath.

Well, there are all types here in the Neath. She gives her surroundings a cursory glance, none of the other ships look as interesting as this one. And more interesting women is always a plus in her book.

The Wanderer makes her way to the crew slowly. There's no rush, she takes a moment to just absorb the atmosphere.

The lookout spots her first, and mentions something to the others as they finish unloading.

By the time the Wanderer gets close, the girls have finished loading everything onto the cart. The Skipper turns to face her with a curious smile, hair fading smoothly to irrigo and viric. "Hello there."

How odd. "Greetings, are you the captain of this vessel?"

"I am," she confirms. "The Truthful Skipper, at your service. What brings you here?"

"Hm, I suppose I just couldn't stay away." She looks at the ship. She almost asks where they are going, but she doesn't actually care.

"Room for one more? I'm a competent navigator, and I know my way around a scalpel."

She carefully looks the Wanderer over, hair shifting again as she does, then looks to her crew.

She smiles, a couple viric streaks mixing in among the peligin and irrigo. "Sure. Welcome to the Heart's Handbasket."

"Lovely. I'm ready to leave whenever we are ready." She gives the assorted crew a little wave.

"Well then, how about my Figurehead and I help you get settled in, while—"

"Me an' the Acrobat finish selling off this surface food and get our wine shipment?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Good, good." She follows along.

Sable leads the way up onto the ship, and then below-decks to the cabins.

While the wooden form of the Figurehead follows behind. There are seven hatches: three on each side of the corridor, and one at the end. The end hatch has a spiral carved into the wood, the door nearest it on the port side has a pair of wings, across from that on the starboard side is a flame, and then the starboard middle door has a carved rose. The remaining three doors are unmarked, and open of their own accord at the Figurehead's gesture.

"You may pick from any of these three cabins. What may we call you?"

She takes a moment to admire the Figurehead. "Lilith. It's a pleasure." She takes a cursory glance inside each of the cabins. All she really wants out of a cabin is a desk and a chair, but she'll do without if she has to.

The Figurehead arches an eyebrow at the admiring glance and smiles back. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Maya, and also the ship. Our Captain is Sable, and I will let the other girls introduce themselves when they return."

Each cabin has a small bunk, a smaller desk with a chair, shelves with a latching cover over the desk, and a small storage area above and below the bunk. It's reasonably well-appointed for shipboard accommodations.

"Well this is quite nice." She sets her case down by the desk.

"So, you are the ship?"

"I am," she replies. "My Sable slowly acquired a great many quality materials, and then built me in Polythreme."

Typical, not five minutes onto a voyage and I'm already inside another woman. She discards the crass thought.

"Polythreme, that would be the place to do it. What is it like, being the ship?"

"What is it like being a human?" she replies with a soft giggle. "Truly, it is difficult to describe. I am aware of the waves lapping against my hull, the steps of all aboard me, the shifting of my cargo. I feel the rumble of my engines like your heartbeat, and the smoke from my stacks is my breath."

"I suppose it's a silly question." She thinks for a second. "In my experience being human is expecting endings and only finding them in stories."

"To use those terms, being a ship is expecting ports, but only finding in them more journeys."

She smiles. "It never ends."

"Indeed," she agrees, smiling as well.

Sable smiles at them both. "I should show you to the infirmary and the map room. Cabin at the end is mine, marked cabins belong to the other crew. Do you have any questions for me?"

She leads the way toward the other end of the corridor.

She follows, the questions about her hair will have to wait until one of them invites the other for dinner. "What is our next destination?"

She smiles brightly, cosmogone streaks tumbling down her tresses and mostly displacing the irrigo. "Port Carnelian," she replies warmly, "our home base, in as much as we have one other than Maya herself. Most of our usual trade routes stop there at some point."

"Very well then." She follows, charting the trip in her head as best she can. She'd be tempted to make a detour at the Iron Republic to purchase cheap fuel, but maybe they couldn't do that for reasons she wasn't seeing yet. "How long have you been captain?"

"Of course that's really just the next major trade destination. Doesn't account for meandering along the way, grabbing port reports, stocking up on fuel, things like that." She hums and strolls along. "And three years."

Ah. "The Iron Republic has the cheapest fuel." She thinks. "And I suppose the Melting Isles are on the way to Port Carnelian."

"Both true, and the Melting Isles has a nicely different selection of food compared to both local fare and surface food. It's a nice place for shore leave, too."

At the other end of the corridor are two more hatches, both of which open as they approach. One leads to the mess, the other to a decently well-appointed infirmary. "Mess and infirmary, should be fairly obvious which is which. We tend to do communal meals, though you're welcome to help yourself at any time."

She smiles at the hatches opening on their own. "Communal meals. Novel." She says approvingly. She takes in the infirmary. She is a ship surgeon now. She is responsible for the health and well-being of the crew. She inspects a scalpel. Reasonably good condition. "Very good, where next?"

"Next we're heading up to the map room, and you can have more opinions about our planned course in front of the actual charts. And after that, the rest of my crew should be back and we'll load up the wine and get moving."

"Sounds delightful, lead the way, captain."

The map room, on the upper deck, is dominated by a metal table in the center covered with charts of the Zee. Magnetic pins holds string to the surface marking out a route from the Cumaean Canal to London.

"Ooh." She takes a pin and lets it drop. "The charts must appreciate not getting carved with holes."

"I imagine it would!"

She starts pinning string to the map, going from London (which gets a gold pin) to the Cumaean Canal (blue pin), to the Iron Republic (black pin), the Melting Isles (green), Port Carnelian (gold), the Isle of Cats (blue), Nuncio (blue), the Chelonate (gold), Polythreme (gold), the Salt Lions (gold), Demaux Island (blue), Hunter's Keep (blue), and finally back to London. Plain steel pins get added to divert the route around islands and obstructions.

She scrutinizes the route for a moment. "Gold indicates trading, black for refueling, blue for port reports and green for... shore leave?" She guesses.

She nods. "Just so. The beaches are really nice. Shore leave is also available at Port Carnelian and London, sometimes at other trading ports, and occasionally at report ports."

She nods. Buy wine at Wolfstack, sell at Carnelian, then buy Sapphires, sell at either Chelonate or Polythreme? She forgets the prices. Perhaps ship some Stygian Ivory? Who buys that? Wolfstack? She forgets. Or remembers? Why does she think she knows this? She shakes her head. 

Her eyes wander around the chart. They snag on Kingeater Castle. Something nameless fills her belly with dread and sorrow.

Sable looks over at her, a bit concerned. "Are you okay?"

She blinks. "Yes, of course." What came over me? "I'm fine. How about we see the rest of the ship?"

"Sure!" She's totally still a bit concerned, her hair shows it, but no matter. The tour wends forward along the deck, passing through the bridge, and then pausing at the deck gun. "We have two guns on this ship, deck and fore. We make the shells custom, in a wide variety for different types of target. You won't likely be on gunnery duty often, but it's worth knowing where everything is."

They seemed like reasonably good armaments. "Where did you get these guns?" They didn't look like anything one would buy off the London markets.

"One of our crew is a genius with weaponry," she replies with a bright grin, apocyan streaks flaring sharply in her hair. "They pack a bit more punch than they should."

"Delightful. I'll have to ask them about it later." The ship is alive, the guns and munitions are custom made and most or all of the officers are females. I really hit the jackpot with this one. "Alright, let's move on?"

"That'll make her day," Sable replies with a wry smile, leading the way belowdecks again.

"Magazine," she indicates, pointing at one hatch, then another, "And cargo hold. Then through here..."

She steps through another passage.

"Engine. Maya's beating heart. We do her maintenance ourselves, because it's a bit of an... intimate experience, for her."

The engine isn't screaming. Obviously. Engines don't scream, why would they scream?

Wait. "Intimate?"

Sable smirks and brushes a hand along the exposed metal wall of the furnace.

Maya sucks in a tight breath and bites her lip. "Sable," she breathes.

"Wouldn't you feel vulnerable if a pretty girl reached into your chest and touched your heart?" she teases. "Her wheel is just as bad."

"Oh." She says.

"I see." She manages to add.

"So you two..."

All the peligin washes apocyan as Sable's grin turns brilliant. "We five."

She does a little mental tally in her head. "Ah."

I'm on the right ship.

"Well then! I'm at a genuine loss for words, that sounds like a fascinating relationship."

She nods, still grinning. "I love my girls so much.

That's when they hear footsteps above them.

"Our darlings have returned," Maya notes. "Shall we?"

"Let's!"

Maya leads the way topside, smiling warmly.

The first crewmate they see is the Silent Acrobat, stacking crates on the deck as she receives them from the Rose-Strewn Monster Hunter. She looks Lilith up and down with a wide smirk as she sees her, blatantly checking her out.

The Monster-Hunter passes another crate to the Acrobat, then looks up at Lilith.

"Oh hi! So you're actually joining us? I'm really excited to get to know you!" She moves quickly, just a bit quicker than a human should, darting close to Lilith with an eager smile.

There is obviously some sort of catch, they're too perfect otherwise. Not that she has the self-preservation to stop herself from winking back at the Acrobat.

She startled slightly at the Huntress. "Yes! I'll be joining you. It'll be a pleasure to get to know you." She practically purrs the word.

She blushes a bit and smiles warmly, bouncing in place and speaking quickly. "Did the Captain already give you the tour? Did you see my babies? Aren't they great?" Then her head whips over to Sable. "Oh Skip are we—?"

"Yes, Rubes, we're doing names," Sable replies, grinning indulgently. "I've got a good feeling about this one."

She nods and smiles and turns back to Lilith. "I'm Ruby! I built the custom guns, and I help Sable with the ammo."

A silver glint flashes off her peligin eyes as she speaks.

"I saw the guns, I'd love to hear all about them."

"Oooh yay!" She bounces some more, then pauses. "Oh right we need to finish loading first."

And she darts sheepishly back to the Lookout for another crate of wine.

Maya and Sable each take crates and start up their legs of the crate-passing brigade, leaving Lilith in the middle.

"Ah, yes." She hefts the crates as they come. She strains a little. She's not exactly in shape. She moves to help with the rest of the cargo, passing some to the Skipper.

And between them all, they can get all the crates of wine stowed reasonably quickly.

"Ah, that is better," the Figurehead comments as she sets the last box into place. "There is something viscerally satisfying about a full hold."

"Maybe it's the sense of purpose?" Ruby suggests, bouncing up slightly to peck a kiss to Maya's cheek shyly, "Or maybe just the fullness itself?"

"Hmm. I am unsure. Perhaps some of both." She hugs Ruby firmly and leads the way out of the hold.

"Speaking o' fullness, how do we feel about dinner? Got plenty of fresh produce, since we just came off a Canal run."

"Mm, that sounds good." She sidles up to the Huntress. "So about those munitions."

The Lookout snickers. "Have fun nerd-flirting," she teases, heading into galley to start on a stew.

The Acrobat ruffles Ruby's hair, heading off with Sable and Maya to cast off.

Ruby blushes at the teasing, but doesn't let that stop her, and turns to Lilith. "Come up on deck I wanna show you! The key's the special steel I made."

"What a crew." She follows. "You'll have to tell me how you all met, I bet it's a fun story."

"We could tell that over dinner maybe, yeah!" Her steps are light and quick, excitement bleeding into her motions. "So it all starts with the steel. I don't use normal steel to make these guns. I smelt it all myself in our forge in Port Carnelian, because it's not the kinda steel anyone sells. I call it stygian steel."

"Well, I'd love to know how the bones of zee-beasts are involved. I'm assuming?"

"Mhm!" As they approach the deck gun, a glint that one might've previously dismissed resolves into an intricate pattern reminiscent of Damascus steel, peligin shadows streaked through with silvery gleam. "The whole process needs Correspondence-engraved furnaces and crucibles, but if you mix stygian ivory in with the coke and the iron when you're blasting it, you can draw some of the death out of the ivory, making a stygian pig iron. 'Course, doing that activates it, kinda, takes it out of the safe form it was in while it was bound up in the ivory."

"Do not touch stygian pig iron with your bare hands, by the way," she adds with a sheepish grin. "That stuff's not good for you at all."

"But once you've got the stygian pig iron, then you melt that with flux and another iron or steel in a Correspondence-engraved crucible, and the result at the end of your crucible process is stygian steel. It's barely safe to touch bare-handed, much harder than normal steel, but much more resilient too. It can take bigger charges in the shells, and esoteric charges when we wanna use those, without warping or cracking. And it passes on a little of that death to every shot that passes through the barrel, making everything a little more lethal and corrosive."

"Madness." She whispers. "If I didn't think I'd burst into flames I'd ask to take a look at the crucible in question. I can almost picture it in my mind's eye, the death of the long dead zee-beast etched into each and every shell."

And for some reason, she can envision something even more demented. A man's reckless passion, fired like a spear into the heart of a mountain. She blinks at the thought. "How fresh is the Ivory you use?"

"Usually not very. Mostly we just set aside a crate or two when we're hauling some. D'you think there'd be enough of a boost from a fresh catch to make a noticeable difference if I made new barrels? At least if we hunt something near home?"

"Maybe. It would have to be very fresh, I think. Perhaps if bones were extracted from a dying specimen, which was then killed as the blasting occurred... We would have to experiment."

"Science!" she replies with a grin. "Probably the easiest thing to get that close to home is a crab, maybe a giant angler or a megalops."

"Will that work? You'd have to use their exoskeleton."

"Eheh, yeah, dunno whether that would work." She scratches the back of her head sheepishly.

Then looks up brightly. "Oh! Behemoustache! Those roam the whole southern coast, one'll turn up for sure!"

"Mm, yes, that will work nicely. We kill one, drag is carcass somewhere I can work and we'll get you something with a little more death in it."

"Oh this is gonna be so fun!"

"Maybe we should hang around Port Carnelian for a little longer than usual? See if one turns up close to home, so we can work on it right by our workshop?"

"Oh but I can probably improvise a blast furnace on any ol' island if we're in a pinch, and then we can just box up the stygian pig iron until we loop back home on schedule and I can get at the rest of the tools we'd need."

"But I don't wanna put Sable and Neo in the position where they have to choose between helping me scribe Correspondence unprepared on a random island or waste the kill."

"We have some time, we can bring it up over dinner. Perhaps there's a safer way to approach this."

"Yeah. At the very least, the girls'll probably be willing to take some extra time staying close to Port Carnelian while we look for one."

She takes a moment to admire the cannons. "These must've been quite the project."

Ruby smiles warmly as she runs her hands over one ripple-patterned barrel. "They really were. Thirteen different cast pieces per gun, carefully timing my pours to use the hardest and deadliest for the liner versus the safest for the outer casing. And then rifling her was a trial all its own."

"It's beautiful." She runs her fingers along the side.

"Thank you," she replies with a soft smile. "My next project was gonna be some personal weapons, but if your plan works, I need to redo these babies first."

"It will be tricky. I think it will work best if the bone is taken from its dying body. How far inland is your workshop?"

"Same building as the loft we live in when we're not on the Handbasket, a warehouse Sable bought us and converted just barely off the dock."

"Very convenient." She steps back from the gun. "Shall we head back?"

"Yeah, we probably should. Hailey'll be done with the stew soon, I bet, and we've got some fresh bread she made on the trip to London. Should be a good dinner."

"I'm excited. Lead the way."

Ruby chatters happily about ammo blends as she heads back to the galley, where the smell of a flavorful beef stew wafts out.

The Viric-Eyed Lookout, apparently Hailey, is stirring a large pot of stew, while also packing cuts of meat into a barrel to cure. A tray of bread rolls is sitting on the counter beside the stew pot. "Hey you two, stew's almost done. You have fun showing off, Rubes?"

Ruby giggles and nods, blushing slightly. "Yeah! Lilith even had a neat idea to improve our stygian steel for a new round of forging!"

She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply.

"Ah, that smells very nice. And here I was, almost excited for hardtack. You spoil me." She smiles