Where's the spark?

While Begmadventures were transpiring, the fleet was left to maintain a stalwart course through the shadow sea. The brackish waters that the hulls carved through were initially seen as rather grim, but boring. Surely safe enough to leave the ships in formation while crews maintained ship-shapeness and kept momentum even if not of the shadow-crossing variety. Safe as houses after all the other series of and fathomable and unfathomable events.
After getting tipped off to an insidious phenomena involving the water by clever investigations, Ruby had trumped immediately back to the flagship still dressed in her partial Beggy garments, not even bothering to return to the rented hotel and abandoning any other personal effects. Trading the relatively stable footing of Begma's terra firma for a tilting deck, Ruby is hit in the face with an odd smell that somehow fouls up a perfume of the sea with human beings. She tries to take in everything at once and fails, having to force herself to prioritize her sitrep rather than indulge and get overwhelmed.
The Beast is a-creaking and popping with a sound like wetly exposed bones. Crew that are at their stations are clinging to them like shipwreck victims. They fight against what seems to be a horrendous case of ennui or fatigue. Ruby puts her trump of the Beast away and immediately nabs a poker hand of allies. Going off of Fancy Man Merri's last intentions, she puts his card last in her hand and concentrates on Sidonie and Wynter to contact and try and yank through. Trusting on the networking skills of over to contact others that are not in her deck.
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