<strong>Location:</strong>A Pirate Vessel<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Clio<br/><br/>Old Redbeard grinned at her response, especially about the bet.  “Yar, but Jimmy was closest.”  Jimmy had insisted that Redbeard had two good eyes - at worst, maybe one lazy one, but still functional - and that Redbeard only wore the patch so he could act like a pirate.  “Some years, I work with the kids of my own father Poseidon.  Maybe someday I’ll get to show you the boat<em>he</em>lets me use.”  He had talked about sailing a lot, but never a reference to his parentage beyond very vague references to his own father.  Even so, he’d definitely enjoyed the change of scenery while he was doing the Ren Faire circuit.<br/><br/>Hugging her back, he was incredibly strong, but then, so was she.  “Don’t lose my number, lass.  In many ways, your true journey is just beginning, and I’m sure you’ll have any number of questions.  Always remember I’m more than just a pretty face,” he joked, then waved to let her head off.<br/><br/>Once she was opening the door, Old Redbeard hit a button to start back up a song that Clio had heard quite a few times before, and Old Redbeard merrily sang along.  Closing the door would, naturally, cause the music to fade.<br/><br/>Inside the main area made it clear that the entire structure had been designed for the ease of one individual, right down to the wheelchair ramp installed on the other side that could no doubt be opened up.  The entire area was a workshop unto itself, complete with a gigantic forge that was big enough for a human adult to stand in.<br/><br/>The man in the wheelchair was not handsome by any stretch of the imagination.  Clio, thankfully, had developed her mother’s looks.  His wheelchair was locked into a restraint system perfectly designed to let him move about on specific grooves and keep him from swaying or being knocked about by the waves of the storm, as perfectly custom designed as the rest of this place.  “Clio,” he said warmly, and gave a gentle and affectionate smile.<br/><br/>Three other things caught her eye in the workshop.  First was a hammer that she had only seen before in her dreams.  She remembered a man asking her to design the perfect hammer for her needs, though she had some trouble remembering what he looked like.  As best Clio could recall, sometimes that man was a winged demon - dreams were funny, and she didn’t recall feeling fear - but he definitely wasn’t the man in the wheelchair before her.<br/><br/>Second was something that moved, hopping forward from a perch and approaching silently, an animatronic wonder of a cat that made a rhythmic and melodic purring sound.  It took her but a few seconds to recognize that it was actually a type of percussion, almost like music, and the cat rushed over next to her to demand affection.<br/><br/>The third was the easiest yet to recognize.  She’d only made the hawk statue just yesterday, and sacrificed it to Hephaestus.  Here it was now, on a pedestal of its own, on display like any other great work a parent might show off that their child had made for them.<br/><br/>"I know you may have a lot of questions," he said with some degree of apology, "but I'm afraid time is limited for now."  He gestured to a changing curtain in the corner.  "Behind there you'll find a set of dragonscale underwear in your size.  It's not comfortable - you can keep it if you want, but you won't need it after this - but I don't want to destroy your things, and I'll need you to step into the forge."<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>OOC:</strong>Ultimately, the cat is your gift to design, so I can drop the percussive purring if you don’t like it, and whatever other changes can be made as you like.  I figured I’d just drop it in and you’ll either love it or we’ll edit it out.<br/>