<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://cdn-ak.f.st-hatena.com/images/fotolife/p/patora0412/20150529/20150529181748.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Rexile<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Leaving the Docks<br/><strong>Time:</strong>11:30 AM<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Character Theme:</strong>Languid Exploration (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UXircX3VdM)<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>No Triggers<br/><hr/><br/>Well, that'd sucked.<br/><br/>Rexile's Cerulean Crawler was a custom constructed ocean-faring jewel.  It was originally a cutter-style boat, which considering the kind of crew she was taking on suited her just fine.  But since then she'd made many modifications, starting with an automated rigging system and a hydraulic ramming apparatus on the bow, and a deployable 'ribbon' locomotive system that could perform the function of rowing, only in perfect silence.  Her modifications had then proceeded to constructing a transparent underwater cabin, adding folding arms onto the side of the vessel, and given the recent struggles in getting through the storm, electrodes, lightning rods, and subaquatic insulation.  Materials were getting more expensive, but people seemed willing to donate if they thought you could solve the issue.  And Rexile had foolishly thought that if anyone could get off this rock, it would be her!<br/><br/>She should have listened to her hawk.<br/><br/>Her ship had returned two days ago, half blown to hell.  It would have been humiliating.. well, it was humiliating, but it would have been more so if she wasn't only one in a crowd of a hundred that were turned back by the storm, licking their wounds in the port.  Materials would be harder to get, now, but she'd been smart enough to get extra for herself.  She'd been haunting the docks ever since, repairing the fried left arm of her Cerulean Crawler, patching the hull, reassembling the rigging and scooping water out of her oceanic sub-cabin.  It was not a nice feeling, to be so thoroughly devastated by a storm.  But at least she had the pleasure of knowing that she'd given it her best shot.  And that this, more than likely, wasn't an ordinary storm anyhow.<br/><br/>On the mast above her, a hawk stared around the docks.  She looked up and received a chiding, almost mocking glance from the bird, and gave it a sour expression in reply.  The hawk was her spiritual guide, but that made it an asshole sometimes.  She put the final touches on her automated rigging system, and decided she'd had enough for one day.  The hydraulics and the turbines in the arms were just going to have to wait.  Sighing, she leaned back against the side of the hull, swigging a tall bottle of soda and trying to decide what to do next.<br/><br/>With a rustle of feathers, the hawk changed position, roosting right beside a small poster.  Rexile turned her head lazily, letting something behind her eye whirl a little so it could bring the poster into focus.  "Mashyu.." she intoned, her voice unimpressed.  Another pirate claiming they had a plan to breech the storm.  Why the hawk thought this one was any different was beyond her, and even though she knew she should listen, she decided to take another nice long swig of cola before even reading the rest.  The Greasy Pudding Pub, hm?  What a terrible name for a bar.<br/><br/>Her optics whirled back to normal, and she sighed.  She wasn't getting anywhere sitting on this rock, that was certain.  And while conventional wisdom said that just waiting out the storm was the best way to go, this was an island with limited resources.  The quick ones were already hoarding what they could get cheap.  Pretty soon, the slower ones would realize they might run out of food before they left this little chunk of dirt.  And then, the gouging would start.  And that would end abruptly, when an entire island full of pirates and naval officers erupted into war.  She needed to be well, well clear of this island before anything close to that began happening.<br/><br/>Finishing off her cola, Rexile shook her head and put her boots to the pier.  There was a click, as her boat secured what was worth securing, and she set off towards the town, to find this Greasy Pudding and hear this captain's sales pitch.  Might give her an idea, anyhow.  She spared a glance around the docks, seeing who else was around.  A vision her that she might find stars to light her way on this island.  She didn't expect much, though..