Wave as, as usual, hunched over his desk. The chair was sized to suit him, but the desk was almost comically small for his huge frame, to say nothing of the writing utensils. Green malfean lamps lit the room, casting everything in a emerald glow. He finished writing his line, then paused to read over what he wrote, only to snarl and snatch it up in his huge muscled hands, crumbling it into a ball and tossing over his shoulder... to land amongst all the others. His room was full almost knee high with similarly discarded knots of paper. He was trying, as usual, to write Sonneillion a letter, and had been trying almost since they had parted. But... he just couldnt find the words.<br/><br/>...probably why the rest of his once opulent room was a shredded and smashed mess.<br/><br/>Wave was aboard his ship, a mighty demonic construct called<em>The Fist Of The Sea</em>, docked at the Blessed isle for the celebration. One which he had yet to actually participate in, so engrossed was he in using this opportunity to finally get that letter wrote that the idea that he could just<em>go see him</em>had yet to occur. Reaching over for a fresh sheet of parchment, Wave's hand brushed wood, and looking up, he realized he was out of paper, again. ARGH!<br/><br/>Moments later, Wave stepped out through the new hole in the wall of his cabin, in time to see the desk splash down a good distance off shore, bobbing for a moment, before sinking. His discarded letters lay scattered around the deck where they had spilled out through the hole, and he eyed the demonic crew for a moment, then contented himself that they all looked properly occupied elsewhere. They were not allowed to touch his letters, if one of his failed attempts reached Sonneillion's eyes, he might as well kill himself now and save the humiliation. It had to be<em>perfect</em>, it<em>had</em>to. The last demon to try cleaning up his mess was still impaled on the main mast, though its twitching was getting less frequent. Dutifully, he picked up each and every one of the letters that had spilled out, and tossed them back inside, re-entered the hole, and pushed the bed it against it, flipping it up to seal the hole, and then stacked more furniture behind it. The Slayer then exited his room via the door, and shut it behind him, before waving down one of the demons who crewed the ship, "There is a hole in my wall that needs to be fixed, and i need more paper..." his gaze stayed to the city beyond, "Once that is done, you can all consider yourselves on leave until Calibration is over." He grinned, "Have fun." and then made his own way down the gangplank and off into the city.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Wave was about three streets in when it clicked, and he realized that Sonneillion was probably here somewhere. Oh gods.... he needed.... FLOWERS! yes! flowers! and the slayer set off immediately in search of some.<br/><br/>