The visitation - Part One

[rubyrubyruby]

It's still the Ark. It's late. After the trouble it's taken to come over, Ruby has personally decided to delay getting onto the crazy carpet or find another way to the Beast just yet. Besides, there's probably more parchmentwork the closer one gets to that ship. She's off in negotiations with employing a wet nurse while she protects her ankles. While the kids are a whirlwind of chaos. When it's bedtime, the femmes congregate to roost like a coven of conspirators over teacups. Cloistered in darkened grownup only galleys, they rest their soles and decompress.
The Ark is one dark place with minimal lighting when daily duties are done and critters are snoozing. Ruby suggested taking a tour if folks also stayed over or delayed departure. Nothing is barred from poking around in, especially if curious. The passageways are like dark caverns or like narrow alleys of a timber city. There's creaking of the wood, and odd noises. Shadows dance, cast by candles or lanterns. The rolling of the city adds a very slow lurching motion, but not so troubling for those with sea legs.

After taking a moment to have a cup of tea herself, Sidonie is on her way up to the deck when she hears one such odd noise coming down the passageway. She pauses, frowning in concentration, and with a small shake of her head, turns to walk down the shadowy path inside the Ark.

Merrisol most likely got himself out of the nursery at the first opportunity, meandering into the menagerie to look in on every cage and stall. By nightfall, he finds his way back up to the main level, looking not very interested in anything but a quiet, closed-off corner and perhaps a pair of new boots. Coming across Sidonie at an intersection of scaffolded roosts, he settles to a halt and tips her a nod. "Good evening, Doc. Stairs up are -that- way, I believe..?"

Muffled conversations leak out from closed doorways. Most living situations aboard the ark are communal, with what privacy can be arranged. Be it hung bedsheet or actual door, for its size, they still try to pack in quite a few living being be they two-legged or walk on all fours. The drowzy words exchanged surround the blessedly mundane, truncated by the occasional laugh or groan as tired bodies seek recuperation after a busy day. The farther one explores, the less one encounters these familiar sounds.

The sheer number of critters housed in the lower decks provide a kind of insulation against the sea's cold, and heat generated by all those bodies can be palpable in certain areas.

At the intersection where Sidonie and Merri meet, there is a branch that heads towards the port side, and would cross over towards what passes for the infirmary. A lantern at the far end has it's wick fall flat as if tugged at by a breeze. A draft comes from that direction a few heartbeats later. A moist sound pad-pad-pads almost too quiet to detect.

Maggie spent the day helping in the children's den, talking with the guardians and trying to make headway in learning a bit about the younglings present. She finds that she can give the ladies present a bit of a break while telling tales of dearing-do and high adventure on the open seas to the children who will listen. These are based on actual events, but toned down enough to avoid nightmares. When it is time to round the kids up to send them to bed, she motions to Ruby to let her know that she is heading out of the children's domain for some fresh air and less noise.
Once out, she begins to make her way up toward the deck. Though she began her journey with head bowed and hands in her pockets, she lifts her gaze in time to spy Sidonie and Merrisol. They are offered what might be a smile unseen though she continues sort of obliviously toward that intersection.

"Evenin'" Sidonie says to Merrisol in a soft voice, as befitting the late hour and dark environs. She nods her head in the direction of the low noise she heard. "I heard something, wanted to see what it's about." She starts to walk once more toward the sound, pausing only just a moment to look back at Merri, a bit curious to see if he'll follow, and notices Maggie headed toward the intersection. "Good evening," she says to her as well, voice low.

Merri's gaze seeks out that lamplight flutter, but he doesn't move at first, staying in the more certain light while Maggie makes her way over. "You.. heard something," he repeats, soft but droll enough that the meaning is obvious. One can't /not/ hear things in this floating circus. He inclines his head in greeting to Maggie, now quiet himself, as he brings one hand up, one finger raised, signaling Maggie to halt and listen as well, now that Sidonie has likewise stopped moving.

Maggie reaches the pair, returning Sidonie's soft greeting as she arrives. Her smile is tired, but there though it fades a little as she cocks her head to one side, "Wait... I hear something as well. Sort of... footfalls? Or..." The sound is faint and she has just been with chidren so... "I'm not sure, though. We could go see." Glancing down the hallway, she conjurs a spark and sends it off to rekindle the distant lamp.

RPG: Maggie declares that she has the Spark (FIR-SK) gift.

Down that hallway, folks would be closer to the infirmary. There's only the dim light of oil lanterns turned so slow they're almost extinguished. Come to mention it, it seems to be one of the few light sources actually alight at the moment. The others have been very recently put out as the lazy coils of dissipating smoke curl away from wet wicks. Re-igniting one of the lamps provides more illumination: Sharp eyes would be able to see all is not ship-shape past the open hatch to the medical area. It's empty of people, and also empty of tools of the trade. Where there should be a full compliment of saws, straps, needles, scalpels, spools of thread...there are definitely empty patches along the wall. A pilfering has occurred.
Towards the center of the ark means coming closer to the massive shafts that descend through multiple levels. Means of egress for palettes of cargo or livestock. One could wad up a mouthful of spit and send it careening down many stories of criss-crossing structural beams...or fall to their death. Like being inside a huge warehouse. A miniature town on the high seas. Whoever built this thing was a mad person, or a genius. There's evidence of renovations atop the original purpose however. The commandeering of the ship, and refit, is kind of like plagerism via shipwright.

There are wet footprints exiting the infirmary and headed towards one of those central shafts. They collect at the lip where there is no lift currently, just empty yawning space. This place is definitely not up to code when it comes to safety. The faint light plays off strands glinting at that treacherous gulf.

Sidonie's eyebrows shoot way up when she turns her gaze to Merrisol. Well, yes, she heard SOMETHING. Once she feels they've had enough time to hear what she's hearing, she nods to them both and turns to keep walking down the now better illuminated passage, thanks to Maggie. Once she reaches the infirmary she runs her hand along the wall, noting blank spots where equipment should be, then casts her gaze down at the floor, noting the footprints, and the gaping shaft beyond. "Strange," she says softly.

Merri starts up walking again with reluctant momentum, then trails along at the rear. He regards the presence or absence of things along the way with no great concern as yet. That his companions are keenly interested seems to be enough to keep him moseying along in their wake. "Have you met the custodial team yet?" he offers. "I've observed a few around and about.. no one doctoring the critters per se." When they reach the vertical transport columns, he looks around for a call switch that might summon a lift from higher or lower decks in this ark-arcology.

Maggie shrugs once, then turns to follow Sidonie into the hallway. Breathing slowly, she concentrates on listening, trying to follow the soft sounds. Shaking her head, she steps into the infirmary and looks around. Her familiarity with such places is limited to visiting wounded sailors, so she is not sure which blank spaces are right and expected and which are not. Seeing Sidonie's concern, she glances back at Merrisol, then looks around again. Following the doctor's lead, she looks down, "Why are the footprints wet?" Frowning, she turns to exit the infirmary and follow the prints to the transport shaft Merrisol is looking at. "Look, Kerf." She points to the footprints, then peers over the edge, "Did they go up or down, do you suppose?"