Cibola coastline

[rubyrubyruby]

The usual lush unbroken coastline of Cibola has been interrupted by the aftermath of the recent battle of its shadow path. Derelict ships that could not reach the Port of Antukt City are at anchor or have run aground. Over a month ago, one such vessel had beached itself spectacularly in sight of the Port but far enough away to be within the domain of the jungle rather than civilization. The ship is fully out of the water after making a significant furrow and jammed up into the treeline. Its hull, rigging and sails create a backdrop, like some sort of theatre stage backing, against the dark forbidding Cibolan jungle. Perhaps a ghoulish nautical sight for shipwrights. A number of more recent longboats and skiffs are pulled up onto the beach after having disgorged some Pathfinders that required ferrying to this location. Torches have been lit and thrust into the moist sands, lanterns hung from the ship. And snakes. The rigging is snek town, tongue-flick county. Ssssso many sssnek. The side of the hull has a piece of canvas hung from it. Something is cooking on a spit nearby that has many vertebrae. And there's a barrel of spirits nearby to disinfect the palette. There's a faint breeze to carry the scent of the food and the heat of the day along the coast. The sounds from deeper within the jungle promise interesting times for the unwary.

A distinctive ship has sailed as close as she dares to the designated meeting spot. She drops anchor, the clank of the chains carried toward shore on a stifening breeze. This catches the ship's flag and the emerald field stretches out, the crimson flame dancing beneath a golden sun showing plainly that Captain's Flame and Merrisol have arrived. Soon, a shore boat is lowered and the pair row toward the meeting place. The boat skips over the water like a puppy winter-confined finally released to gambol through the warming spring.

Ruby emerges from one of the lightning-blasted breaches in the beached ship, swatting at the back of her head to banish insect or low hanging danger noodles. She approaches Wynter and the cook fire. "Couldn't foind it, an I thought I was clever where I stashed it. I think somethin made off with tha spice satchel." Ruby casts a look over her shoulder to the jungle. "I don't envy tha zest it gonna 'ave tah digest, whatever it was."

Melina has apparently arrived via one of the boats pulled up on the sand, looking around with the air of someone in a new locale. she eyes the snakes as if they might not be her favorite species but doesn't seem to be running for the hills. whether she's comparing to recent adventures or tales of cibola which suggest worse alternatives, she seems to be ok, favoring the nonserpantine atendees with smiles

Merrisol gets out in the shallows to pull the dinghy in beyond the tide line, and offers his hand to Maggie despite it's being a simple enough matter to disembark. He turns back to retrieve his cloak and gear from the center, but carries them in a bundle rather than put them back on in the lingering humidity. Shirt-sleeves and trouser-legs rolled, he pads barefoot up the beach toward the unseaworthy hulk, raising a hand in general greeting but waiting until they are close before noting his friends and associates more specifically by name.

Maggie takes Merrisol's hand when it is offered, her smile quick and her 'thank you,' quiet. Once landed, she turns to gather her own cloak and a pack. The former is looped over her arm while the later is slipped over the opposite shoulder. A faint *clink* or two might be heard as she angles to follow Merrisol up the beach. As she walks, she rolls up her sleeves but leaves her pants as is for now. Looking up when the land flattens a bit, she nods to the early arrivals.

Lhasa steps out from the same breach Ruby used a few minutes after, dressed in Cibola-appropriate clothing: no waistcoat, but sleeves and neckline buttoned way up against the onslaught of mosquitoes. She gives Wynter and Ruby a smile, then looks past them to the newcomers. Her eyes alight on Maggie and Merrisol, and her smile brightens into a full-on grin.

Ruby hoists an arm and waves in people closer that are arriving. "Ahoy! Smoke from tha foire will keep off tha worst six-legged things. We all relatively safe over 'ere. After squeezin some entrails an lickin a toad, tha shaman proph-e-sized an promised we as safe 'ere as anywhere." She clears her throat. "If you see an iridescent toad, don't step on it or lick it. It's name is Bauuuuuuuw...or somethin. Near as I figure it be a pet or familiar. Where tha 'ell did tha loopy priest get tah?" She frowns and shakes her head. "Not important."
More people are arriving via things that float, and a few might even be silly enough to risk walking from Antukt.

Wynter stands and dusts herself off as more people begin to arrive. She gives smiles to those who gather near, nods to those she knows. Ruby's missing spices get a side-eyed glance and then a small roll of same, fondness showing in the action. "We'll get by with what we have, I think. And I haven't seen either in a good twenty minutes?"

Merrisol lets his parcel of stuff unspool in a heap beside the remains of an abandoned shoreboat which he rolls into a capsized position closer to the fire. His smile for Wynter starts to wither away again as Ruby continues speaking, then Lhasa popping out from Ruby's shadow causes a brief collision of those moods and feels on his face, and the grins win! "Lhasa, well hey..!" He sets the makeshift seating into its groove, and rubs debris dirt from his palms in anticipation of... "Wait, who.. oh, Martin. Yeah, we're about to start here, come on." He's already turned half away with his hand seeking a metaphysical grip.

"Thanks buddy," Martin punches Merrisol's arm friendly like. He's in Rebman attire so he comes through wet and dripping. "Sorry, got tied up with some things. Anyone got a towel?"

Maggie turns her attention to the fire, then to Ruby and Wynter. They are given a collective smile and a wave, "Hello." The sand scrunches beneath her feet, then beneath the pack she lowers to the sand. Carefully. The *clinks* sound again, then stop when the pack settles. Rising from that lean, she waves again as Lhasa sneaks out of the shadow, "Hello!" Maggie's warmth is spread fairly evenly though she turns to Martin when he appears, "Hi, Martin." She shakes her head about the towel, but offers him her cloak. "This might work." Though with the humidity? He might be stuck dripping Rebman water mixed with Cibola dank into the sand.

Lhasa steps to a spot where a good bit of smoke goes wafting through, because bugs, and makes sure this spot is also near Merrisol and Maggie, because it's been a while. "Hello," she greets them warmly, and the newly arrived Martin as well. She withdraws a flask from her pocket - the Steel Seal's influence, no doubt... but as she unscrews the top, its contents are steaming, and quite possibly coffee.

Melina notes the Rebman prince's arrival with a broad smile that easily extends once more to the rest. She catches the conflicted look on Merrisol's face. Is she pondering the cause or wondering how often her own face gets stuck in such moments of indecision. She looks about for the briefiest of moments searchingly, perhaps for priest and toad and then returns her gaze to the dripping rebman because...well

Ruby moves the barrel to get a quick cup of something to drink. "Wherever 'e got to, sure as Bog's got barnacles 'e knows 'is way around this place better than me. Don't loike 'ow 'is stone eye didn't blink anyways. Gave me tha tummy tremors. Almost needed tah ask Lhasa for one 'o 'er remedy chews." Slurp. She grimaces over the drink. "Still moight."
She's moving over towards the hull with the big canvas and twists it around, flaps it to jostle the earwigs free and pins it back to reveal an artistic rendition of the GC. It very much resembles a wagon wheel with Amber in the center and spokes leading to different realms that make up a lumpy wheel. "Just tah start off, I gots an announcement. Tah make things more efficient for tha R.P.C. would loike tah trickle down some responsibility. I not need tah lick toads tah know there moight be a few Navy issues tha distract me attention in tha near future. I'm not overturnin tha boat...but I am gonna make Cap'n Flame tha RPC Intermediary. If Maggie is agreeable tah it. Not just because she's more appealin tah converse with than meself, but tha she is also respected through tha Golden Circle. Gots good connections an is trusted, an she gots some great ideas for Pathi an beyond. ~Beyond~ be important but we get tah tah in a moment."
Ruby turns and gestures to Merrisol. "I'm appointin Merri tah be Operations Lead. I seen tha look 'e gets in 'is eyes when things are an ain't organized well. An I know 'ow...conscientious...'e be in just about anything. Frustratingly pre-pared an thinks 'e so bloody smart. I 'ope tah Bog this keeps me from gettin buried beneath parchment."

Martin grins. "S'okay, Maggie. I'll dry off eventually." He has a smile for everyone but he doesn't interrupt Ruby.

Merrisol whacks Martin's shoulder in response, then contemplates his hands briefly, wet with Rebmaness. Is that homesickness glistening in his eye, or a random spot of sea water from all that punching and whacking? Blinking, he glances around and back at Lhasa as she ends up nearby. "Doc, how've you been? Got some room over here for you with Maggie and I," he invites, though the hull might not be smokey enough. It's certainly crabby, though, as the clan of crustaceans since rousted from their shelter scuttle clawfully underfoot. Merri scuffs one aside, but looks distractedly up again once Ruby starts in. He seems nonplussed as he listens, and then a mite wary when the assignations are handed down, because oddly enough, they make a shrewd kind of sense. If one disregards the blathery bits, anyway. "Uh.. hm. Well," he gestures a little with his hands from being put on the spot. "Ah. Sure. Though," he considers, "with what's come down the pike after the battle in the Node, I'll need time to focus on the threats against Rebma, to start."

Wynter turns the spit again, listening to Ruby's announcement with a interest. A wide grin grows and turns towards Maggie as she's tapped for extra duty. Then another for Merri, the grin tempering as he brings up the reality of approaching war. Turning back to the meat she begins to cut into it with a dagger to check for readiness. A smaller bit is pulled from the critter and brought to lips to taste test.

Melina nods "I know I risk repeating myself your highness, but if the crown, which includes the corps in my estimation has any needs that they would like me to present to the houses. I'll openly encourage any ancialliary support we might give despite not having many of royal blood amongst our ranks. i plan to try to meet with the houses at large soon in hopes of making more personal connections with junior members

Maggie claims a seat on the hull, leaving room for Merri and Lhasa on the windward and smokey side. Bugs don't overly bother her, though she does find herself almost idly scratching a bite. Over and over and... Stop it, Maggie. Clasping her hands in her lap, she listens. Her eyes widen in what can only be surprise. But not shock, it might be noted. Inhaling slowly, she pauses to stick out her tongue. One hand extricates, rises and her fingers pluck a bug from the tip of her tongue. This is flicked away to live or die coated in Maggie-spit. Ick. Poor bug. Since Merrisol nudged a crab away, Maggie pays its fellows no real attention beyond a bit of a shuffle to keep them off of her boots. All of this has given her time to consider Ruby's offer. And Merrisol's acceptance. He is given a bit of a sid-eyed glance that carries no real commentary. She nods to him, then looks back at the others. Her nod sends ripples through her hair, firelight and sea glimmering in the russet waves, "Alright. We will need to get together to finalize things, Ruby. I'll want an official appointment to smooth over any ruffled feathers and to give me an edge when talking to the reluctant. I have begun really preliminary exploratory inquiries that should lead to a start on the Pathi path. That will take time." Turning to Melina, she offers a quick smile and a soft, "Be careful what you ask for." A wink is offered and a more sober, "I don't speak for Ruby..." Yet. "But I will certainly be calling on you as you have offered. Thank you."

Martin grins at the response and looks pleased by the annoucement of new appointments. "Good choices." He approves in Ruby's direction. "Merrisol's right, we've got some things to deal with in Rebma too. Maggie if you need to give anyone incentives you know that you can offer Advanced Pattern training through me to try and get them to do something. They have to help Ruby though and prove they did or are doing something significant for the cause. It's not a freebee." He nods at Melina's suggestion for the houses, "Melina's suggestion is a good one as well."

The sounds of the buzzing insects are punctuated occasionally by some yowl of a jaguar or a warning his of a snake. A chorus of froggo's have decided that is now ribbit o'clock. They all care not a fig for the current conversations of the two-leggeds. Emerging from sandy bunkers or creeping along moist fronds, they do their croaky gurgling thang.

"Good good." Ruby finger guns at Merrisol and gives a nod to Melina. "We could use support. Aye, Pathfoinders derive from tha Crown so it only sails for Amber's greatest good, Truth. If we all floppin within tha same net tha Corwin's cast, then we all in it together, Truth. Can only be more successful if we support each other."

The frogs suddenly go silent. The insects suddenly go silent.

Ruby wrinkles her nose and takes another sip, almost swallowing a beetle that wanted to steal a taste. She coughs. "I swear I've forgotten 'ow tah eat an drink properly these days. If Pathfinders see anythin threatenin Rebma in tha course 'o their doins, we won't be shy in gettin in contact. But...surely there ain't tha big a threat tha be threatenin Rebma? I mean, so many 'o tha enemy got smashed in tha shadowpath..."

"I've been well, thank you," Lhasa replies to Merrisol in a low voice, and takes the offered seat on the hull next to him and Maggie. She remains quiet but attentive, as she nurses her coffee and occasionally waves a bug away.

Hunkering down on his spot on the sandlocked boat, Merri glances over Lhasa's flask, assuming and accepting it to be rum, always rum. He regards Maggie for several seconds, nodding faintly over her more savvy response to Ruby's ideas for delegation. "Anyone who wants to get hold of me for Corps business, feel free to get in touch via trump," he notes with a look around at the gathering. A crab worrying at the flesh of his instep drags his attention away and the rest of the discussion is monitored only in silence, while he glowers emotive shapes at the amphibious critters. So it isn't long before, or is perhaps close enough to be simultaneous, that his gaze flicks into the deep shadows of the jungle, noting the hush.

Maggie can smell the not-rum in Lhasa's flask and kind of wants some of the heated liquid therein. Or maybe there is rum in with the coffee. Or... Wait. What is in a hot toddy? She almost looks over at Martin as though her cousin could read her mind and would provide the recipe on silent demand. Half shaking her head, she refocuses and frowns as the silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire and she shriff of sand washed by the sea. Slowly, she begins to rise, one hand dropping to the sheethed blade at her hip. Like Merrisol, her gaze begins to scan the jungle nearby, seeking an answering awareness with her gaze and magic with her other senses.

Splish, splash! The form of a seal slides up the beach on its belly, riding a wave as far as it can before doing the ole' belly-bounce up the rest of the way toward the ship. Just as it reaches an opening in the hulk, it shakes about to get all manner of dampness and some sand off before there is a flash of rainbow light. After, there is the form of Clive standing there, shaking his hair a bit before he runs a hand through it to pull it out of his eyes. With just a head nod to any familiar faces, he wanders on inside, following his nose closer to this thing that Wynter is currently cooking.


The gathering is gaining more people while talking is going on and drinks are shared. Though some have arrived earlier perhaps, having staked a claim on a bit of the coastal locale, there's always been a backdrop of Cibolan reptiles, buggy-bugs and birb sounds to meld into the sound of the surf. As super snek is turning on a spit and the smoke from danger noodle is keeping some of the insects away, all those living sounds have died away all dramatic like. Ruby blinks away some of the cook fire's smoke from her eyes. She glances towards the jungle beyond the interesting backdrop of a beached ship. Beyond the lanterns and torches, the flickering light reveals little that Cibola doesn't want revealed. The snakes in the wrecked rigging coil more tightly around their perches and keep their tongue flickers inside their mouths. Ruby grunts, turning back. "Aye, I on board with all sorts 'o things tha need doin. Real things. Things tha leave a mark or mean somethin. I ain't froo-froo only words despite whatever titles I gotten blindsided with, Truth. Before I open up tha floor for concerns or...criticisms..." She goes temporarily cock-eyed like she was trying to intimidate. "Just wanna thank all 'o you for what doins you've done, whether tha involved blood an oak...or focused on other locations. I ain't one for speeches, but I tell you this...You moight not realize just 'ow important you all are for makin sure your 'omes be strong enough tah withstand whatever washes up on shore next. Amber be in a bit 'o a mess, but tha's alright. We move forward an balance what can be balanced, an make new what can't be replaced."

There's also some who arrive late. It's probably even beyond fashionable at this point, but by the grace of a brief trump call, and the grace of Maggie's hand, Ryika steps out into the jungle. She takes a moment, glancing around, orienting herself and giving Maggie's hand an appreciative squeeze before letting it go. "Thank you." She comments quietly and then gives a little rub of her bare arms. "Well, at least it's plenty warm enough here. Sorry to inturrupt, and sorry I'm horribly late." She wrinkles up her nose, apologetic as she turns from Maggie to send the apology to Ruby as well.

Martin took the opportunity to dash off somewhere and deal with a trump call and getting dry clothes. He returns quickly and resumes where he was sitting next to Merrisol, if the seat is still empty. He glances around the room, making note of new arrivals. Various nods and smiles follow. At least he's dressed now.

Maggie's attention did turn from her examination of the newly silent jungle to accept the trump call, then to bring Ryika on through, "You are welcome. Good to see you." Once that was finished, she returned to scanning the jungle around their fire to see if she can find out why the fauna went still. Not a good sign in her opinion. There is likely room on the upturned boat for Ryika and Martin with Merri, Maggie and Lhasa. Especially as Maggie remains standing for a time.

Melina half turns to the silent jungle body stiffening slightly, but then her attention is caught by Ryika's arrival and she gives a short bow to the queen before turning her gaze back to ruby as she speaks, listening thoughtfully and nodding all the while

Merrisol is indeed sat upon the skiff's upturned hull, and staring into that dark rainforest beyond the macabre ship's cadaver, alerted to the quieting of critters hither and yon. He snaps out of it when Ryika starts up talking, however, gazing at the little Rebman at first with bafflement, then with more bafflement. "Ryika... hey. Hullo." He gives himself a little shake and pushes up to stand belatedly for her arrival. "Uh.. whoa. How are you?" All the while, the dark silence of the jungle nags.

In the sudden quiet of the jungle, the ratatttattataptaptaptap-tap of someone practicing a drum solo soliloquy with twinned drumsticks upon a set of three green, unripened coconuts is more evident than otherwise would be. Not that, mind you, such a sound is all that easy to come to terms with, not being a "typical" jungle sound . . . at all . . . but there you have it. Actually, now you don't, as the drumming sound stops quite quickly, very soon after the rest of the silence descends upon the triple canopy. Cale's head and face pop down and out of canopy number two, inquisitively. Hm? What's this? What's happening? Whirling twin drumsticks pensively, the rest of Cale, inverted, frets. He's got no clear ideas, there. Upon careful consideration, Cale decides to plummet down out of the trees, head - first, and hurdles sand - ward in the company of a minor Cale-borne cavalcade of snakes and bugs and forest crawlies. Somehow landing on his feet, Cale keeps on looking up and out, trying to tell where all of this new not - noise is going to have been coming *from*?

A quick step closer and Ryika comes up on tip toes to aim a kiss at Merrisol's cheek, made more challenging for the fact that he stood up. "I am not in a Palace!" She declares with what can only be described as an impish grin and a little giggle before she puts her fingers to her lips and mimes a little shhh. "Don't tell my assistant." She turns her attention out into the jungle, quieting and then listening. And then hearing the quiet that everyone else already marks as unusual. "That's likely not good, is it?" She turns towards the drums and then the precipitous arrival of Cale from above. "Are you alright?"

Maggie flashes a smile to Ryika and Merrisol as the kiss is offered. Her eyes hold warmth in varying degrees for each of them. Her attention is angling back to the jungle as Ruby speaks. A nod is sent that way, her comment sent with a quiet authority, "You are quite right, Ruby. There is much to be done to fix what has gone wrong. We are here to help." Any further comment is cut off when the drumming is heard. Surprise echoes to her gaze and she almost takes a step toward the head that pokes down from the foliage. Then the fall. She winces and lets Ryika see if the guy is okay. That had to hurt. Briefly, she wonders if the drumming was what silenced the surroundings.

The jungle critters are silent, but quite anxious. Their ecosystem is spooked, and they don't relax any easier with the dramatic appearance and arrival of Cale and his drumming. Those still hanging out in the foliage stare unblinkingly and try to make like stone idols.
Ruby takes a moment to offer grunt greetings and chin-lifts to recognize new or familiar faces appearing. She flinches at Cale's appearance and nearly squishes a coil of snake cooking over the firepit. "Bog's balls..." She takes a few steadying breaths and regains the plot, yamming. "As for tha state 'o things. It ain't gonna be...whatsit...~Pru-dent~...tah stop with just our golden hoopy earring 'o realms neither. An who only owns just one earring, roight? Some 'o them tha we gots maybe not so ideal as when first brought intah tha fold. An some even be untethered but Maggie's got an idear there maybe. But I don't wanna get ahead of ourselves. If there any questions or problems, go for it. It'll give me toime tah occupy me mouth with something different, loike eatin part 'o this thing over 'ere."

Jungle noises keep steeling Clives attention, sending his eyes darting both to and fro. The sudden arrival of a monarch of Amber puts the sea rover a touch more on alert, though he does his best to channel it into being super attentive to what Ruby has to say. This is all going swimmingly until Cale comes falling out of the sky, which he assumes is some sort of dangernoodle coming to snap at him. With a hand going to the small of his back, he turns about, ready to pull steel until he sees just what has landed. Pursing his lips, he pulls his flask instead and takes a loooooong sip from it before replacing it. "Well, if I can help get a trading lane open and stable, I'm there to lend a hand."

He's ready for those Short People PDAs, those SPPDAs, Merri is, bending down to meet Ryika halfway with his cheek turned. It's just how Merrisol and Ryika do. "Assistant, singular..?" Sounds formidable, already. Her mischief makes him smile, but there are too many other things both happening and not happening, for that mirth to last for long. He looks back to the treeline when a fellow topples in, fully expecting that to be the source of the night's unease, and squinting with vague recognition. Merri frowns and withholds judgement until the falling night's sounds return, and looks back toward the others. He notes Clive at that point, and raises a casual salute to the fellow pirate.

Martin finger wiggles at Ryika, the stars must have aligned to have them both there. He is momentarily distracted by the acrobatic arrival and chuckles. "That reminds me of Ted," he nudges Merrisol. "Hey, got to talk to you about something later." He get his sadly empty drink refilled to listen to general commentary.

Melina is already splitting attention in twoor more directions and as a resusult nearly jumps out of her skin as cale falls groundward "Unicor's" She catches herself, room full of people, including the Queen she's a crown apointee representing both Crown and houses "ahem. Evening cale" she turns back to ruby a hint of red fading from her cheeks "If you don't mind i'd like to clarify membership requirements for being a pathfinders. i'd always been of the impression one needed to be a patternwalker but the variety of individuals here possiby suggests otherwise, not that i have knowledge of anyone's bloodline mind

Ruby peels a skein of scale from her roasted coil of slithery thing. She looks up from her meal. "Tah be a Royal Pathfoinder? Oh well...you won't need tah be related tah Oberon, but it 'elps. Ignore rumours 'o any sort 'o feud between Pattern walkers an those tha ain't. It all perfectly overblown, Truth." She wrinkles her nose. "If you truly wanna 'elp keep Amber stable an safe, well, it almost be loike acceptin a type 'o duty. I not ask only for al-truistic souls, cause I realistic. An I reward those tha be effective an invested. Organizations be effective when there be a real buffet 'o people. I can shape shadoo, but I can't do tha same as Maggie or Martin for instance. There's too much tah know tha can't be stored in any femme. Susa-...I mean Clive. I don't 'ave enough fingers on me hands tah count 'ow many things 'e can do tha I can't. Or Mer-..." A pause of thought. "Faaaah. I mean, you could almost use anyone 'ere as an example. Point is tha requirements be can you 'elp tha Pathfoinders an do I not think you a bloody liability, or suddenly blow up, or more trouble than you worth."

Martin tactfully adds his own wish to the quality of those who wish to the quality of those who wish to be Pathfinders. "Personally, I'd consider useful anyone not wanting to cause more damage what is already razor thin pieces of string holding reality together a friend to this endeavor!"

Cale grins broadly at Martin's mention of Ted's name. "Right on!" Cale fires off a jaunty thumbs-up in response, quite evidently taking this mention as a sort of compliment - by - proxy, then. Cale then pokes experimentally at the roastly - crackling snakey thing suspended on the turning spit. Ughhhggross? Anndddisgusting, just a bit, eh? Just . . . plain raw snake, with *nary* anacondiments? Hm. How primal. Cale contemplates the eclectical ethos and potential pathos of indulging in a serpentine snack from a carcass belonging to a critter that looks to have been quite large enough to eat a Cale - sized person whole. In twelve big bites. With not much chewing. Hm, hmmmmmm, Yeah:Nope. Cale rummages around in his satchel and retrieves, instead, a pint of "Jen and Barry's Iced Creame Producte" of the "Stark and Raving Hazelnuts" flavour. (So says the label.) Producing, as well, a small white spoon -- porcelain - looking, but, *quite* bendy -- Cale proceeds to experimentally sample a bit of the tasty, ice-y, freeze-y treat. Yup. Much better. "Want some?" Cale offers up to Martin, with a second spoon from somewhere. When Ruby starts to talk at length, Cale turns back that way with bright keen interest sparking in his intense gaze. He hops up on the edge of one of the stones that circle the fire pit, knees and elbows tucked in, listening. Cale listens, also, to Martin's pronouncement. Somberly, for once, at that.

Attention divided between what is being said and the jungle's silence, Maggie's frown begins. She nods encouragement to Ruby and Melina, then darts a glance to Merrisol. It isn't a significant glance, just a 'checking in' kind of thing. Then, moving with care, she walks around the cook fire, finger waggling to Cale in passing. When she reaches the jungle's edge, she steps beneath the extravagent canopy and ducks into the shadows there. Her steps are placed such that she makes little noise. There, she stops to listen, extending her extra senses outward to try and figure out what has the critters spooked.

Merrisol grimaces briefly at the reminder of Martin's klutz-bro, but adds in a nod of agreement. "Be back in Rebma shortly after this," he mutters, glances at the treeline again, then goes to retake his seat on the abandoned boat. Slight pause as Ruby gives a very partial shout-out, after which he shoots her a dry glower. Don't let's start this again.. But in general, the replies from Ruby and Martin are worth a few agreeable nods for Melina's sake. "Plenty of support work to go around." He leans over to try out a piece of the roast beast Wynter is culling from the spit.

Replying to that salute from Merri, Clive lifts his flask up in the air toward the swol one, then steals another swig before stashing it away. The almost-Susan-namedrop earns an amused snort and the Selkie nods his head upon hearing any capabilities he may have outweighs the possibility of: being a liability, blowing up, or causing trouble. Martin's addition has him nodding in agreement again, "Will do my best, at least. Anyone working up a plan for another of the paths?"

Martin nods at Merrisol, "Cool." He glances at Cale, grins with a thumbs up. "Thanks, but not right now. ...trump call one sec."

Martin's somewhere with lots of leaves and things high in the trees and not necessarily the kind of things you want to drop on you. "Yes?" He answers warily. His hand twitches slightly.

Merrisol notices Maggie has departed the light and smoke of the meeting fire rather too late to do much about it except glance around for a glimpse of that distinctive red hair.

Ruby masticates a vertibrae and asides to Clive with words and a jerked thumb towards Maggie. "Cap'n Flame 'as a 'ead an connections for Pathian things. There was a young femme by tha name 'o Jessica tha expressed some interest, but she was doin some sort 'o sorties via floight an tryin tah foind a way. But if there be a solution, I'd wager there needs more practical boat an less magic float. New Kitezh..." She sucks in air past her teeth. "Well, Kitezh doesn't want tah be a priority...yet. It refuses it, from what I've 'eard, until tha others are dealt with." Ruby's visible eye goes half-lidded. "But not tah worry. It all goes back tah somethin I said earlier."

Martin gestures to the area at large. "A bunch of people are here for Ruby's Pathfinder meeting to determine next steps. Would you care to show up or shall we meet later? Your father had an interesting sugestion I wanted to see your take on."

Giselle nods towards Martin as he brings her through, then offers another politely to the others as she takes in the assembled. She's silent for the moment though, likely to not interrupt the meeting. She's still sober and short-haired, dressed in dignified manner.

Once everyone else has had their fill and had their say, Cale unfolds himself from his rocky perch. Cale unlimbers, then, and stretches all the way up to his . . . . well, let's be honest here: all the way up to his not - all - that - very - impressive full height. The diminutive youngster thereafter notes, whilst punctuating the air with a chocolate - stained spoon for emphasis: "So. Here's a thing. I've tracked the Consortium's Song since it started. And now it's *stopped expanding outward*. Tha's new. Their effort, instead, is on mobilizing peeps that they've already got convinced. Preparing them. For their 'Phase 2 orders' that follow up the Song they've spread. Which means, you see, we have a chance . . . to 'fight fire with fire,' as it were. In this case: 'Fight the music . . . with NEW music.' With a message of what they're *really* up to! So. Yeah. Couple of us have been riffing, practicing. Variants of their own Song's lyrics . . . " Cale's own head nods, to an unheard rhythm. " . . . so, can any of you jam, or what?" Cale wonders. Cale's non - ice cream - eating hand absently twirls the drumsticks he's been packing as he looks around for feedback, for suggestions, or for volunteers.

Martin somewhat stares at Cale as if trying to decipher what he's talking about. He gestures at Giselle. "Speaking of interested cousins. Giselle, this is everyone. Everyone this is Giselle." He makes some room for her. "Uh... Consortium aside, there's a lot of priorities at the moment. Priorities on top of priorities and it kind of makes the head spin. I only have so many places I can be but I'll help where I can. As far as plans go? Not exactly, I'm focused on fixing patterns and relying on you all to work on fixing the paths since before the patterns can truly be fixed all necessary things must be in place. Otherwise we're just sticking our fingers into holes in the wall."

Clive nods again to Ruby, giving a thumbs up and a snort at the bit about Kitezh, "Crabby bastards." As his focus swivels to Maggie, the gesture switches to a fingergun that is pointed her way. "Gimme a shout when you're ready? Or if anything else pops up. You know how to reach me. Chimera is just about fit to fight again." The Selkie starts moving back toward the water when there is another rainbow-bedazzled arrival, earning an up-and-down along his way before he goes and walks his way into and below the water.

The crimson of Maggie's hair is the first thing to be seen when she walks back to the fire. She is in time to hear Jessica's name and she nods once before reaching over to steal a bit of the roasting snake on the spit. "Right. Just so you all are aware." She pauses and nods a greeting to Giselle, "Someone is using some kind of location aligned magic not far from here. Or did. I can't tell if it was recently or not." A warning to be alert, maybe. She inhales, then nods, speaking as she moves back to her seat on the upturned skiff. "Jessica and I are looking into some the Pathian path. Though we are a long way from having a fully formed plan. I'll have more soon, so if anyone wants to help, please let me know. I will put a call out for a team meeting once I have one or two willing and capable volunteers on deck. And..." She blinks twice, cut off by a thought as Cale's words sink in. She narrows her eyes at him, then looks over toward Ruby and Merrisol, "Wait. Isn't the Consortium a done deal?"

Giselle first just listens to the others, collecting information. The only one she doesn't already know heads off underwater, and then her attention returns to the others. She stands comfortably as they discuss Pathfinder business.

"Sorry, can't carry a tune, myself." Merrisol's increasingly anxious search for a redhead lass apparently summons Giselle out of nowhere! Well, not really, but Martin read his mind or something! Merri's gaze swivels between the two of them for a moment, slowly inclining his head in greetings as he comes to accept the order of the evening... which is: Weird Bizniz. "Lady Giselle," he presently offers, rising from the upturned boat he and others are/were sitting upon, and offering her a place there. He's got to go looking for... but then Maggie does duck back out of the woods around that point, and gets a long, relieved look from him. Then, pausing to wave briefly to Clive, he glances around again to take in Maggie's question. "Done deal... no, Hotstuff. Naval reports from some weeks back had leftovers from the Bloody Node spilling into Amber waters. From there, though.." He gestures vaguely towards the large golden-circle-y map of Ruby's hung over the wrecked ship's hull. "And Rebma."

Maggie's face goes through several transformations as she listens to Merrisol. A flush creeps slowly up her throat to stain her cheeks with an unusual color. It lies somewhere between crimson and ashen, "I see." Turning her gaze to Ruby, she stares at that cousin for a while in silence as her jaw works a bit. No sound escapes though her coloring shifts again toward an angrier shade. Instead of claiming her seat on the upturned skiff, she nods to Gizelle, "Hello, cousin." The greeting is a bit too calm. Looking between Merrisol and Martin her gaze lingers for a moment on each. Then, with a quick inhallation, she turns to the gathering as a whole, "Please excuse me. I need a moment." Whirling, hair fanning out in an arch of crimson, auburn and red, she leaves the protection of the smoky beach party to walk a way toward the surf.

Cale paces back and forth in thought, pausing once to taptaptaptaptaptaptap one of the drumsticks slowly and thoughtfully against the formerly snake - festooned remainder of the roasting spit. Hrrm. Taptap tap. Cale pauses. Cale frowns. Actually, that's quite an unsatisfactory resonance. Hollow coconuts just sounded sooooo much better. Cale looks up briefly as Maggie heads out, nodding farewell in that way that people do when they know it won't be noticed. Hmmmmmm. "Yeah, they've got a 'Phase Two' prepped for us. The Consortium do. Don't know yet, quite, what that means." Cale muses. No doubt, it mostly means: 'more trouble!'

Martin gets another contact while he listens to the group, nodding at what Merrisol says about Rebma. His gaze swivels to Cale momentarily before he frowns and sighs. "Yes?" He answers another trump call which quickly ends. It's only a couple moments later when he rises. "S'cuse me... I have to handle something." He steps up, takes his drink and wanders out of the way so he can handle the sekrit trump call.