Bravura Masters Pt 1 - the Boat to Bravura has started at Arx - Lower Boroughs - Dockyard - Rising Sun Casino.

Lottie flounced her way on through the dockyards, waves offered to those she was familiar with either from her life in Arx or more recent acquaintances amidst the boatmen. Upon arrival to the ship, up the gangplank she went, arms held out for balance until she was properly on deck.

1 Culler Boatswain, 2 Culler Midshipman arrive, following Samira.

Toad, a flippity-floppity smoosh-face of a Keaton Hound have been dismissed.

Toad, a flippity-floppity smoosh-face of a Keaton Hound arrives, following Ripley.

Siri, an attentive apprentice, Paris, a charming mercenary, 2 Keaton Huntsmen, Nomius, a deeply skeptical bloodhound arrive, following Apollo.

Toad, a flippity-floppity smoosh-face of a Keaton Hound have been dismissed.

It's a summer evening with clear skies and the sun has not yet set. The dockyard is still alive with activity. The Rising Sun is seeing quite a bit as it prepares for its departure to Setara. There are sailors rushing up and down gangways with last minute supplies and trunks. On the passenger side, the line is rather sparse. It is unlikely that the casino boat will be at full capacity.

'Expenses paid' is easy when you own the transportation vessel. But when they arrive, there is no Count Duarte to be found. There is just a very large guard holding the ship's manifest asking for names.

Beside the guard is slender man with shoulder length black hair and a narrow, sharp, mustache that sticks off his face on either side. He seems out of place, but waiting. (https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/788940677064032266/797397403326087208/3rrr.png)

"Names?" demands the gruff guardsman.

"Hello!" The littlest baker of Arx chirped, her hands slipping to the hidden pockets of her dress and Lottie seemed completely unaffected by the gruff mien of the guard. On her back rested a rather full pack, causing her to lean forward a touch to manage its weight. "I'm Lottie. Lottie Parkins."

Caprice has arrived on time but she's loitering beyond the gangplank, as out of the way as anyone can be while taking up valuable real estate upon a busy dock. Perhaps she's waiting on her party, perhaps she's rethinking her comfortable attire. Perhaps she's not particularly fond of boats. Whatever the source for her delay, she's soon starting up the gangplank after Lottie to join the line, arm resting against the bulk of an overfilled tote. "Caprice Artiglio," she present when it's her turn.

"Ripley Thornburn!" Hair a mess, but clean good clothes that seem like they'll stand up to the salt and a backpack on his back that looks like it might contain everything he can think of needing for the road, Ripley's coming to a stand beside Caprice and adopt the same posture that Lottie has. "Caprice!" He smiles, leaning over to offer a kiss to her cheek. "I sent toad to Prince Fiachra. I hope he enjoys him!"

"Apollo Oakwood," provides Apollo, carrying a not terribly overloaded satchel, backpack on his back. He smiles sidelong to Lottie. "Lottie, been an age!" he says. Taking inventory of the others, he nods - but there's a puff of laughter when he hears where the dog has gone. "Are we all accounted for? He turns to see if Samira is in evidence.

Samira approaches the dockyard with a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. Her first steps onto the gangplank are preceded by a deep, steadying breath - strange really, this anxious regard, since she's been known to go out on the water with some of the Culler sailors. Spotting the others in her party, her expression warms into a smile. "Samira Culler," she calls out, readjusting the weight of her pack as she hurries to follow along behind Apollo.

Lottie "An age and then some!" Lottie grinned up and aside to Apollo. "You are just as handsome as I remember you. Granted, shouldn't I be calling you 'Guildmaster' now?" That grin shifted sly and she hefted her pack up on her back again with a small heft to moderate that weight again. Bright gaze then turned to the others who were joining her in the line. "Hello! I'm Lottie!" She introduced to those she did not share familiarity with as she did Apollo, as if she hadn't already boldly blurted her name out to the guard.

"Oooh!" the foppish slender man near the card claps his hands together. "Theez are our distinguished guests, Junior!" he tells the guard with a light touch of finger tips to the gruff one's shoulder.

The slender man sweeps forward and bows, "I am Fausto Alameida, the Minister of Loyalty for Bravura, and we are ///so/// excited to have you traveling with us!" He leans in and smiles an obsequious smile. "Soon you will meet DeStewart, who will be your main host!" He stands upright and frowns suddenly. A snap of the fingers and a bark that sounds like a mew to some nearby bag handlers, "Oi! See these guests' luggage to their rooms!"

He smiles back to the group, "He will be your main host! But if you need me for anything, or have any questions, you just tell anyone on the ship to come find me and I will..." he claps his hands together loudly! "...be there at once!"

Snowflake the Albino Ermine arrives, delivering a message to Ripley before departing.

Accepting of Ripley's greetings, and offering congenial if distracted hellos to the rest of the group, Caprice's attention draws forward again as they're all acknowledged and introduced to Fausto. "Lovely to make the acquaintance of Bravura's Minister of Loyalty," she's murmuring in polite exchange, more thanks offered as the bulk of her traveling bags are shifted from her shoulder and offered to handlers. The main tote she keeps with her, rearranging what's left inside - sketching materials, mainly.

Apollo's brows launch with the reception of Fausto Alameida. "Thank you, Fausto, very much. What a pleasure." He offers over his bags to the bag handlers, scans the ship's deck. "What do you know about the journey? And our itinerary, Fausto? You'll have to pardon me, I've not been to Bravura yet."

A messenger from Valardin hoofs it to the dock to leave a message with Ripley who just grins and tilts to show it to Caprice before tucking it away and then shifts to offload his bag to a bag handler - poor man, there's tools in there and they're not light - then offers his arm to Caprice to walk further onto the ship.

Samira inclines her head to Lottie, the only unfamiliar face amongst the group. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Samira." She waves to the rest before directing full attention to Fausto. "That's very kind, thank you." Her eagerness for more details is apparent as she awaits his answer to Apollo's line of questioning whilst handing her bag off with a grateful nod.

"Hello, hello, hello!" Lottie chirped to the others before turning to dip a curtsy to the minister and begin passing her bag off to those who sought to see them to her rooms. Otherwise she fell quiet, happy to listen to the questions and replies asked and given, attention returning to Fausto.

Fausto presses his lips to the side of his mouth. To Apollo he shakes his raven locks. Fingers twist his mustache, "I don't know precisely. DeStewart does! But I think you are to spend some time in the city together, no? Without a guide, of course. Then we will probably attend to some of the Masters, whom are eager to take lessons from you. And then we will attend the ceremonious hanging of Messere Artiglio's deightfully Inspired 'seascape rediculi!'"

But Fausto's smile grows more when he turns his head in a serpentine manner to Lottie and says, "But I think we are all very excited for the dessert Messere Parkins plans tonight. I hope you find the kitchen well stocked. We did our best to put everything in an efficient place for you!"

Out <O> is now locked.

Lottie's brows lifted in unison as it was noted she would be making dessert, partially surprised... but not in entirety. It was her schtick after all. "Yes! I most definitely planned a dessert." Yeah, while she said it with the utmost confidence, she was no great woman of mystique and it was pretty clear this was news to her. "I can't wait to see the kitchen!" Otherwise she seemed perfectly pleased by the itinerary as it was stated.

Apollo sidesteps to murmur to Lottie. "I'm only /Arx's/ guildmaster," he says, grinning. "I hope to learn properly, and got to have a dose of humility for that. Speaking of - what's dessert?" Humbled by the pie. To Fausto, he gives a nod of his head. "I'm excited, yes, thanks. Now I just better find something to hold onto. I'm fine once at sea but the setting off - all that... lurching about. Enough to make a man's gills green." Them that have gills, anyway.

"Unlike Apollo, -I- am good on boats!" Ripley boasts, puffing out his chest and planting his feet with a grin. "Do you need help lottie?" He asks the woman. "I can stir stuff!"

"Mm, dessert? Starting out right. What'll you be making?" Samira asks curiously of Lottie, possessing quite the sweet tooth. Of boats, she adds: "The best boat rides are the ones that are calm and uneventful. Hopefully all will be in our favor for the journey."

There's a lift to her shoulders, evidence of a deep breath in as the painting - and a ceremony - is mentioned, but she's content to focus on Lottie and the promise of a special dessert. "How- where will we be sleeping?" Caprice asks of nobody in particular, more wondering aloud to herself in the general commotion of boarding and greetings and directions.

Out <O> is now unlocked.

Earl Peckworthy Flappington the VII, a blue and gold macaw arrives, following Vitalis.

Lottie nodded to Apollo's clarification, her own grin remaining a burst of sunlight across her face. At the question of what dessert would be and attention turned gain to her she gave a sudden and blank pause, only to reignite seconds later. "I just learned a delightful recipe of Ischian origin that I was thinking of whipping up." To Ripley next she turned, hands clapping together excitedly before her. "One that will indeed need /quite/ a bit of stirring. The cream-custard is the best bit and needs to aerate!" Granted her attention shifted at the question of sleeping arrangements. Her experience being that of stacked bunks in prior travels. The little baker was known to be fairly stingy with her silver when it came to personal care and needs.

Out <O> is now locked.

"I'm sure it will be to die for," Fausto says not at all ominously to Lottie's description of what she might make.

"Okay! We shall have you settled in before we disembark..." and bells and sounds and horns and all that noise making that heralds a boat's departure begin to ring out.

"I will show you all to your rooms, except Messere Parkins, who will be taken to the kitchen!" The man motions to a nearby attendants who will do these things.

-----

As the evening wears on, sunset is the time of departure. The Rising Sun pulls away from the bockyard harbor and once it hits a safe distance begins to sail freely southward on its way to Setara!

The guests found in their lavish staterooms (complete with marble bathroom furnishings, down comforters, the nine! even little chocolates on the pillows 'with love - Duarte Amadeo'.

Except for Vitalis, whose stateroom is less luxurious. A later addition to the manifest, he had spent some little time insisting that we was to be on the boat before Duarte was messaged personally to affirm it.

Lottie and Ripley have, by now, completed dessert. There are attendants touring the boat's hallways and decks to announce dinner's readiness.

Apollo might have snagged one Lord Vitalis Clement from his less luxurious stateroom. If there was really time, anyway. Else - when he exits his room for dinner, he can be found laughing to whoever pops out of the adjoining room, "I've never felt like I was being -wooed- by someone who isn't even -present- before." And wiggling one of the chocolates, and popping it in his mouth. It's not spoiling his dinner. It's an appetizer.

Lottie still bore her apron and very carefully piped flourishing bits of cream to finish the actual plating of the desserts Ripley and her had made together, the pair probably annoying the ship's cooking staff with their non-stop chatter about all manner of things... though mostly about food, their pets and potential future play-dates between a goat and a bloodhound. As soon as she'd finished the piping she hurried to remove her apron and join everyone in the -- well, wherever dinner would actually be served.

There's time enough to go to his room after the desert is done. To change into a clean shirts. Ripley's coming out of his room too, mouth full of chocolate. "CAPRICE!" he yells out, hoping that he'll find her smiling with a closed mouth to Apollo and swallowing. "It's like.. it's how I imagine a prince lives! Did you know that Lottie has a goat named Milly? And then there's chickens, and then there's a cow and I have learned so much! CAPRICE!" He calls out again, excited. Oh so excited and nearly bouncing.

Samira spends quite some time marvelling at the luxurious stateroom she has been granted, proclaiming it the most sumptuous accommodations she has ever experienced. The announcement of dinner being served coaxes her from the room, the crinkle of wrapping as it is tucked into a pocket evidence that she has enjoyed at least one of the chocolates provided. Apollo's remark earns a laugh and an adamant nod of agreement. "That's the truth! I've never felt so spoiled or had such fancy things lavished upon me."

Vitalis checks composure at normal. Vitalis is successful.

rejoins the others, dressed in sunset seasilks and with no damning evidence of previous snacking. Really, there are few who have probably ever seen her eat! But her smile is relaxed when it shows itself, and there's a spring in her step, however altered it may become thanks to the roll of the galley underfoot. "Room for future adjustments then?" she asks of Samira, warmly. "A bit of spoiling is good for perspective, you know."

"Never?" Vitalis uncoils from Apollo's arm. Affronted. He stills at each bright and loud cheerful greeting. He looks sleek and well-groomed. It was *an undertaking.*

"Never seen chocolate on any prince's pillow, at least," Apollo says around a mouthful of chocolate, covering his mouth a moment later. In mixed company, probably not... entirely appropriate a thing to say, but it's one formerly-Lycene-lord and a bunch of crafters.

"How many princely pillows you seen?" Lottie grinned, picking a chair to flop down into and snatching a napkin off the prepared table to wipe any remnants of sugar and flour off her cheeks.

Fausto meets them all outside the dining hall but this time he is joined by an equally tall and slender man, albeit one more severe. "Hello, distinguished guests! This is DeStewart! Your host for this little pilgrimage." (https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/788940677064032266/797384992992133120/asdsadasd.jpg)

Beside the door to the dining hall is a table of boxes. The new man introduces himself. He is far more pale of skin and clearly not a Setaran by birth. He speaks in a very careful may as if every word was pre-thought and measured. "Good evening. I am Leonor Aspis. The Stewar/d/..." he side-eyes Fausto, then looks back to the group, "...of House Amadeo. I'm sure you know how highly we value your presence. Count Duarte has insisted on gifts for you..." a suppressed eyeroll, "...but to be opened only when you /depart/ Bravura...as it is the current gift giving fad." Leonor sighs slightly at that.

The table does find that each box is named for its respective recipient, and all have boxes...except Vitalis.

Duarte drops a celestial wooden chest for Caprice.

Duarte drops a celestial wooden chest for Ripley.

Duarte drops a celestial wooden chest for Samira.

Duarte drops a celestial wooden chest for Lottie.

Duarte drops a celestial wooden chest for Apollo.

Clearly, Lottie was not sitting and there was no napkin as they had been met outside the dining hall and not within it! We'll just bump the wiping of sugar on over to when they enter. INSTEAD she fixated spring-green gaze upon the line of boxes. "If I can ask... why give them to us now if we shouldn't open them until we're going home? Is that part of a tradition?"

Ripley takes a celestial wooden chest for Ripley.

Samira sends a grin toward Caprice as the tailor emerges from her room, nodding to the other's words. "Apparently so! It's definitely a new perspective." She quiets to listen to the steward, stifling a grin upon hearing his correction of Fausto's introduction. "Nice to meet you, Steward Leonor." She seems to be doing a decent job recalling her manners thus far, but who knows how the evening will go? Her attention quickly shifts to the boxes upon the table, undeniable curiosity held in her gaze. "Is it a test of some sort? Ensuring we've the patience not to open it despite it being /right here/?" she wonders aloud.

To Lottie, Apollo asides: "Fewer than I'd like and more than I should have." He laces an arm with Vitalis. "Have you met everyone? We've got Caprice, Samira, Ripley - have you met Lottie?" He pops a chocolate-y thumb in his mouth, then says to the steward, "Nice to meet you, Leonor - and of course, we feel appreciated. I'm sure we can all exercise a bit of restraint."

"Because the count loves games! Torture! Some people like to make others wait." Ripley has experienced this before and he moves forward to the chair and the box bearing indication that it is his and runs his hands over it with glee. "Speaks for yourself Apollo" Ripley's already studying the lock.

"Gifts?" There's bustling. And consternation. "Mmmh, mmhm. I've met Messere Parkins." Quieter, for the introductions, "Thank you." He smiles, "You're welcome to leave them in my stateroom. To avoid temptation." Vitalis beams, so helpful. "Apollo. There was even a perch in my quarters. I'll say this, the Count has spared no effort."

"Good to make your acquaintance," Caprice adds to the round of greetings and new introductions with Leonor, a step removed from the rest of the group for no reason but to observe them, their reactions and banter over the gifts. Gift enough for her, for the moment! But it's not like she isn't eyeing that other box with interest.

Apollo checks willpower at normal. Apollo is marginally successful.

Apollo takes a celestial wooden chest for Apollo.

"Likely a good idea," Apollo says, to Vitalis. "The appeal of a locked box is one thing in good company, and another entirely when left to my own devices." Whatever that means.

Samira takes a celestial wooden chest for Samira.

Caprice gets a celestial wooden chest for Caprice.

Leonor 'DeStewart' Aspis is about to motion everyone forward until he finds himself receipt of questions about the gifts. He sighs and reaches into his vest pocket. He pulls out a slip of paper and reads from it a prepared statement, his delivery bland, "Not a tradition but a fad. A gift given before a task completed is a waste. A gift delivered after is an exchange. But a gift before, to be opened after, may tickle the imagination and herald Inspiration, aspect of Jayus." Leonor primly folds the paper back up and delivers it back to his pocket. Yeah...This guy is definitey not from Bravura.

The dining hall doors are opened to a beautifully wood built hall. Tables oppulent with silverware, fine floral arrangements and delicate plates and bowls. There are other ship's guests there as well, but the central table they are led to is much more finely set....except for Vitalis who is sort of squeezed in there with an extra chair and setting next to Apollo's much more plush seat.

Dinner begins to be served. The guests, of course, have their choice of meat including sea food options. The wine is poured. No hard liquor at dinner, but guests are directed to the bar after dinner if they choose. The wine is very fine - each bottle probably worth more than some salaries.

"Do so? What do you wish to see or learn in Bravura?" Leonor asks the group once served.

Lottie snickered softly at Appolo's reply, hand lifting to cover her mouth though she leaned to wiggle a little wave at Vitalis and added, "It is very nice to see you again, my lord." She nodded to the Steward's answer before plucking up her box to carry it with her into the dining hall and finding a place, granted she checked for place cards at this point. "I want to see the kitchens in the Amadeo estate and also talk to all the street cart vendors." She offered quickly!

"Anyone else feel like a pig being fattened up before the slaughter?" Ripley asks, leaning forward and elbow against the box, looking up and down the table. "Apollo, what fork do I use? I didn't learn how to use more than one fork. Or more than one spoon or glass for that matter." And he's then picking up the dishes and looking at them, looking over the pattern, the silverware and lifting them to balance them on his finger then put them back down before he eventually sits. "The smiths. To learn from them as they would learn from me."

Apollo checks wits and etiquette at normal. Apollo is successful.

Ripley checks wits and etiquette at normal. Ripley is marginally successful.

Lottie takes a celestial wooden chest for Lottie.

Apollo leans toward Ripley, eyeing the spread - murmurs. "Start from the outside, but skip that fork there if you aren't having the salad." Why does he know that? "Oh, scallops? I'll like to see if they match memory. What's this fish?" He likes to sample everything, and murmurs sidelong to Vitalis about the spread as courses are served. "I know for me I'm most interested in seeing collaborative efforts, I want to understand why Bravura is considered so avant garde. But of course - if there's lighter leathers that don't make you wish you were dead wearing in the heat, I'll be interested in that, too."

Samira wrinkles her nose at Ripley's remark, eyes sweeping the dining room as though suddenly suspicious of the potential for 'slaughter'. She slides into her seat with the air of one thoroughly out of place, grateful for Apollo's explanation of the silverware. Even so, she'll watch the others before following their lead in eating whatever fancy fare is placed in front of her. "I'm interested in viewing the artists' work, painting and sculpting both. I'm eager to see how they differ, stylistically and in methods of techique too."

Vitalis is happy to be served, mapping the wedged in setting with seeking hands. His plate. His silverware. His glass. His napkin. Apollo's elbow, "Pardon." He scoots as much as he might, to give room. He pats the napkin, fingers exploring the folds. "Is this a bird?" The question gives him pause, and he thinks. Says nothing. His brows lift, a smile flickering at the reports of those gathered. They are much as he might expect from such a set, in the best way. "Do you know how you were chosen, each of you?" Vitalis, wine glass in in hand, rolls the stem speculatively, sniffs the wine before sipping. "Oh, this is very good."

Caprice casts a discreet but curious glance towards the other guests as their group is seated, seeking any familiar faces. Attention soon back on the table, delight evident for both the fare and the 'ware, she samples enough to show appreciation but she's slow over consumption, tiny bites and a lot of chewing generally leaving more to be taken away. "I'd like to a little of everything if there's time. Visit with the resident masters, up-and-comers. Are there popular places where the most artistically-inclined are known to gather?"

Dinner moves forward. The meats are succulent and juicy. The bread is warm. The wine is oppulent.

Then it is time for Lottie's amazing dessert! The glorious cannoli are marched out by smartly dressed waiters who begin serving then to the waiting guests. Fausto announces grandly, "From one of Arx's premier bakers, Lottie Parkins, we present this fine creme filled delight of a dessert!"

It only takes but a few moments after people begin being served, but the guests start wretching. One lady screams and reaches for water! A man coughs over and over and over. Before long no one else will touch the dessert. Everyone looks to the center seating.

Lest anyone think this another 'Bravura tradition', Leonor picks up the cannoli and sniffs it. "Spicy horseradish filling?" he squinches his face. A look to Lottie. "A curious choice...." he is very careful not to criticize it... "I'm sure there is some corner of Bravuran cuisine that might enjoy this..." But him? He's pushing it away.

Vitalis checks perception at normal. Vitalis is successful.

Vitalis leans to whisper to Apollo.

Ripley checks perception and investigation at easy. Ripley is marginally successful.

Lottie's brows shot up in unison. "/Horseradish?/" She blurted, rising in her chair and if any of those plates were near her she'd be dragging them into a pile, using her skirt as a basket and scooping it all right into its hammock of cloth before somewhat frantically moving to collect other plates. "Please don't eat that! I don't know /how/ horseradish got in there!" She begged of the other guests. "Drink some milk quick to ease off the flavor." Her poor creamy confections. She was clearly distraught over this. Not just the fact that she was being toted as the creator of the awful confections, but more so the loss of joy at the hands of the untoward ingredient. Horseradish... ICK!

Ripley is getting a mouthful of the cannoli. He tasted the filling before. He knows what it should taste like. So for a moment he's really very confused. And then there's tears in his eyes as it just hits him. Seeps into his nostrils, up into the sinuses and he looks at the desserts and then to Lottie before he's coughing. harshly. Then whimpering when the feeling is in his sinuses, oh it's clearing his sinus's. "It wasn't me!" He protests, weakly and with no small amount of choking, hands starting to flame his face as if that might help. "It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

Apollo is distracted and wine-smoothed by the time dessert rolls around, and he is -just- about ready to bite into a horseradish cannoli when he gets a whispered warning from Vitalis. There's a jerk of his hand and a glare at the cannoli, like he expects a small crab to leap out and bite him in the lip, rather than anything so sensible as a -mislaid ingredient- fouling up the confection. His eyes dart to the unfortunate soul who screamed, having bitten into it. "That's... a liberty to take with a dessert," he ventures. At least he's full enough that he doesn't /need/ dessert, but - harumph.

Samira's brow furrows in surprise, then consternation as Lottie's dessert receives such a poor reception. She leans toward Caprice to whisper with obvious distaste, "Horseradish. Is that some new Ischian-dessert thing?" But when Lottie's response makes it clear that horseradish was not an intended ingredient in her creation, she sniffs her dessert and then pushes the plate away. "A mix-up in the kitchen then?" She sounds a bit dubious, but she hasn't navigated enough kitchens or done enough serious cooking to know what's what.

It was rare to see the little baker so distraught, but as she frantically went from table to table scooping as many dessert plates into her skirts as she could carry the clear line of tears had begun to form along the edges of Lottie's eyes. Culinary failure was not something she was used to, especially not by way of sabotage. At Ripley's protests she turned to shake her head and offered a choked, "I-I know." She was sure of it though as they'd spent so much time together and well beneath Lottie's oversight. "E-excuse me." And with arms full of skirts and plates she hurried out of the dining hall to the kitchen to try to dispose of as much of the atrocious pastry as possible and as quickly as possible.

Caprice checks charm and performance at easy. Caprice is successful.

Vitalis checks perception at normal. Vitalis is marginally successful.

"It's quite nice with the red meat," Caprice comments loudly to the room, slowly easing back in her chair while Lottie is rushing about to swipe plates from the guests again. Lower: "Ripley- do you think you could help her cobble something together in the kitchen? Berries and mint or whatever inspires in a hurry..." Standing, she turns a smile to the gathering and lifts her voice to carry, "If you'll indulge a brief delay, honored friends, some light entertainment to pair with what's to come next!"

It's a singsongy verse: "Good company pairs well with any wine
And quick wit is delectable always, of course.

Dessert, be it sweet or savory is fine

but too much radish will leave your guests- hoarse."

Vitalis lifts a voice to chase whomever is going off to fix dessert, "Cheese." Hopeful. "Horseradish might be nice with some cheese." He'll keep his cannoli, notably unsampled. Save a tiny bit to know for himself what caused such sharp reactions in the others. "I bet a ship's galley has cheese."

Apollo laughs brightly at Caprice's impromptu performance, utterly charmed, and offers a little light applause. "Lovely, lovely," he says. "Wine goes nicely with cheese, too. See, an entire - composition of happy accidents." He turns to eye the way Lottie went, looking speculative. "I hope she's alright. Mm." Napkin plucked off his lap, he brushes a hand down Vitalis' arm. "I'm just going to go see." Taking care of guild members is his job, after all.

Ripley can do this. Tears streaming down his face, he's running off with other relinquished plates to see about a hasty dessert made and supervised each step likely by the two crafters.

Leonor stands slowly from the table. He is largely unphased by the scene. "Excuse me," he says. And he goes to exchange some words with Fausto before both of them disappear into the kitchen.

Caprice's performance does distract some attention, but no one is really buying the explanation part. A couple people do, though, big dipping their meat in the 'dessert' and claim it tastes fine if you eat it like /that/.

The night moves on from there to the sort of revelry you would expect on a casino cruise ship with music and dancing.

----

The voyage moves forward with little more excitement. Lottie, however, is very kindly and gently redirected /away/ from the kitchen whenever she tries to go there. No one criticizes her cannoli disaster, but it's clear they don't want to relive it.

Several days pass before the boat is beginning to dock in the lovely harbor at Bravura. (https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/788940677064032266/797605541370396672/image0.jpg)

The light of Jayus which burned so vibrantly bright within the little baker had fallen behind the clouds of despair during the time it took to arrive at the dock of Bravura's port. To fail was one thing. To be denied entry into a kitchen in the wake of that failure was a destructive force. As Lottie was a manic personality to begin with, the faux pas of the dessert had sent her spiraling into an utter low and kept her confined to her lavish room minus a few meager appearances on the deck late in the evenings. Beyond that she'd all but vanished and even as they docked, there was no hint she'd be stirring from her room.

Which is why Apollo is outside her door. "Lottie?" he says, and knocks again. "Lottie, please come out. I've eaten all the chocolates from my pillow. You're my only hope."

Vitalis spends his time aboard ship trying to stay out of the way. His bright-plumed parrot companion largely content to perch on the deck and AWK with beak-flared at anyone who gets too close. Or fly to a new perch. He stays close. He tap-tap-taps his way through the passageway where Apollo is. "Apollo?" He knows it is, he knows that voice as well as any. "Still won't come out?" A blink.

Ripley is there, hanging back, watching with hands in pockets and untidy beard, concern on his face. Lottie's in a place that he knows well. "Anyone have a goat we can just... send in there?"

As time passes and sightings of Lottie have proven scarce, Samira has jotted a few notes of encouragement onto slips of paper which were then slid under the baker's door. A small attempt at soothing the other woman's mood after the culinary mix-up. As the boat docks and the group lingers outside the woman's door, she considers. "Maybe tell her we've arrived. There's a beautiful city for us to explore and it won't be the same without her." The artist sounds uncertain, but hopeful as she offers this tidbit. Dark eyes slide toward Ripley. "A goat?"

"The kitchen probably has something nice, Apollo." It was a murmured monotone heard from the other side of the cabin door along with a light thunk of a noise. Unbeknownst to the pair in the hall that thunk was Lottie's forehead lightly hitting the door. Unwashed, hair a fray of knots and still in her nightclothes. "They have lots of nice things." There was a beat that past of silence before her dull voice was heard again. "Hi, Lord Vitalis. Hello, Ripley. Hi, Samira. I'm ok, I just don't feel so well. I'll be ok. Y'all go have fun on shore."

Vitalis murmurs low to Apollo.

Vitalis checks composure at normal. Vitalis is successful.

"You lot go ashore, I can stay. I... don't think I'm quite ready for all that yet." Genuinely offered, a smile flickers, flares and fades.

Less familiar with Lottie, Caprice's visits have been mostly unannounced, the days spent by herself when she can manage it for exploring the ship, watching the water, sketching. As much time out of her room as possible, soaking it in. So her sunny arrival to where the others have gathered is, shall we say, not well-matched to the mood. "They're disembarking," she announces cheerily, "is everybody ready? I almost regret not insisting on those pink hats, now."

Apollo has been much better up top, where he can feel the sunshine and the good breeze, the waves, the forces that pitch the ship this way and that. But he looks concerned. Aside to Ripley: "I don't have a puppy for her. It was an accident. Doesn't she know that?" A moment of thought, then: "Lottie. Come on. First street cart we see, I'll drop whatever silver I have to to get you a day's lessons. There's so much to learn, nothing to perform. Come on."

"But Lottie!" Ripley whines. "I want to pick some things for my mum, and I don't have good taste and you do. And the boat is in dock, and I might just end up getting my mum something... strange, and then she'll cuff me by the ears and be all 'Ripley Eustace Thornburn!" He sends his voice high, imitating his mother. He looks to Apollo, listens to him and then looks to the door. "And Molly... Marty? Milly! I bet we can find milly the best non-edible got friend ever! I'll buy! And oh man, street food. What if we eat the wrong street food?" Ripley's moving to the door, putting his head against it. "I know how it it's Lo. But you have had a few days. My Mum only gives me a few days and then she's in, helping me get dressed, and I just get up and... go. You don't gotta have fun, but you need to just... come out. You need help getting dressed? I bet samira and Caprice would help. Caprice is real helpful"

Duarte takes a seascape on canvas, roiling ever more ridiculous.

"I was going to offer," Vitalis looks to Ripley, "Simply *because* I won't be able to see." It's not hard to imagine the state she's in, days locked in her stateroom.

Caprice checks perception at easy. Caprice is successful.

The door finally cracked open and there she stood, looking like a mix between a blonde tumbleweed and an allergic reaction. "Ok." She conceded, not for want to attend, but in response to the care of those who had found it in their hearts to hover about her door. "I don't need help, thank you." Granted she didn't bother much beyond picking up her jacket and pulling it on over her nightdress before slipping to join the group with half-laced boots. "You look very pretty, Caprice. You do too Samira." She offered, a small smile accompanying Lottie's words though it lacked its normal brilliance. Yeah... this was one of her lows in full swing.

The ship makes dock and the group is helped and ushered with their baggage onto the dock. There is a sizable crowd waiting. For what? To catch a glimpse of the Guildmaster of the Crafters Guild of Jayus - of course!

Fausto and Leonor emerge from the ship though their task at the moment is not hosting the party but tending to the safe relocation of Caprice's now (in)famous seascape painting. They attend three or four men who are moving it and a guard entourage. Very serious business.

The island is temperate due to its nearness to the ocean. Sunny. Beautiful. Water is a brilliant blue. Buildings and houses are built on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It's a carriage ride to get to the heart of the city from the docks, and their carriages are awaiting at the end of the harbor.

The ship makes dock and the group is helped and ushered with their baggage onto the dock. There is a sizable crowd waiting. For what? To catch a glimpse of Arx's Guildmaster (as the whole town heard he was coming and wants to know what one of those looks like!)

Fausto and Leonor emerge from the ship though their task at the moment is not hosting the party but tending to the safe relocation of Caprice's now (in)famous seascape painting. They attend three or four men who are moving it and a guard entourage. Very serious business.

The island is temperate due to its nearness to the ocean. Sunny. Beautiful. Water is a brilliant blue. Buildings and houses are built on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It's a carriage ride to get to the heart of the city from the docks, and their carriages are awaiting at the end of the harbor.

Sea and gulls and the creaking of great ships. Calling of workers loading and unloading. Cry of hawkers clustered at the quay for shipboard clientele. "Did I hear that right? There's guard for Caprice's painting?" Murmuring of the throng, "You're expected, Apollo." The corners of his eyes crinkle. Does Vitalis wilt a little in relief when it's carriages they'll be using to navigate the city. *Yes he does.*

Caprice is ready to go, now that all the party is accounted for. If not all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she. "This is going to be fun," she murmurs, somewhere between excited declaration and quiet reassurance. And it's with something akin to muted embarrassment that she observes the painting's relocation from the boat. Embarrassment that's slowly shifting to equally muted... confusion? "...Samira, might I borrow your ear."

A Crafters' Guildmaster of Arx is a little lanky and well-tanned and curly-headed, and vaguely bewildered at attention /abroad/. Abroad is usually where he goes and nobody knows his name. Of course, he usually isn't /announced/. Not above giving a Whisper-trained smile and wave before setting in next to Vitalis, linking arms. "Let's go see what Bravura has in store for us, mm? I'm pretty sure I can smell something I never smelled before already, that's promising." And he disembarks, having not even touched the gift. Yet.

Ripley's walking with Lottie, his arm offered to the chef, playing the role that his mother does for him, nattering away about what color of goat they should get to go with Milly and generally looking relatively happy to be present.

Samira appears both pleased and relieved when Lottie emerges and it is decided that the group shall disembark all together. Enthusiasm bring a bit more bounce to the Culler's strides than normal. She eagerly surveys the sights as they make their way toward the carriages. "It's so beautiful. I wouldn't mind painting exactly this." She lifts her hands, fingers framing the sights of the city that welcome them. Linking an arm through Caprice's, she tilts her head toward her, inviting quiet conversation. "Of course."

Samira checks perception at normal. Samira is marginally successful.

Ripley checks perception at normal. Botch! Ripley catastrophically fails.

"Maybe, maybe we'll find some blueberry muffins. Like in the painting." Ripley points out, smiling at the baker. "I bet your blueberry muffins are so much better than what we'll find here and you'll have to teach a master class on it."

Lottie just nodded to Ripley, shuffling along with the group quietly though her focus seemed more on her feet and fingers had come to churn over one another in a constant revolving of callused hands.

Samira frowns, suddenly squinting as her gaze flits to the painting and catches sight of a particular detail. Her lips purse in apparent disapproval, a murmured remark offered to Caprice.

Fausto and Leonor are more or less unattentive to the party. But when Ripley mentions a blueberry muffin 'like in the painting', the eccentric Fausto laugh.

"Surely a famed jeweler has a better eye for detail than that! It's not a blueberry muffin it's a...." and then Fausto lays his eyes on the painting and lets out an ear piercing screech! It is so astonishing and suprisingly loud that those carrying the artwork are frightened enough to drop it and damage its frame.

Fausto points in complete horror at the painting "...a muffin?!?!?!" He turns and flees back toward the boat as fast as he can.

Leonor looks to the painting. Then to Ripley. He states mildly. "It used to be a cookie..."