Inti's Watcher

Razan listened to Iesue and Ujinao argue about if fighting during the upcoming contest was acceptable.

Iesue believed that no, it wasn't. This contest was a race, so stopping to sabotage other groups would put everyone at a disadvantage.

Ujinao believed that sinking boats was fun, and in the end every group forced to go slower than his was an advantage.

It pained him slightly, but Razan agreed with Ujinao. The rostari had said fighting was acceptable, but not necessary. Which meant fighting would happen. If fighting was going to happen, Razan would rather be the one on offensive. Besides, they'd outvoted Marie on which boat to request; it would be nice if she could have fun some other way.

Their arguments were getting a bit circular when Peter came into the sparring room. Razan got up and went to meet him, assuming he had some message to relay. Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting for Razan to get close enough to speak.

"Hey, uhm… Captain says I need to practice with a sword," Peter admitted. "Having a knife and guns is a start, but a sword would round things out."

"That would be wise," Razan agreed.

"Right. Except I don't have one," Peter said. "She said any ol' hunk of metal with an edge will do, but, well…" He shrugged uncertainly.

Razan nodded. "Far be it from me to say the captain is wrong. However, I don't believe she is entirely correct in that assessment."

"Exactly. Would you help me choose a good one?"

"I would be honored," Razan said, bowing. "Would you like to go now?"

"If you have time. Thanks."

Razan walked to the door. "Do you have experience with any kind of sword?"

"Not… really. I was shown the basics, but wasn't given one for battle. Closest I've used is a bayonet."

"Bayonet?"

Before Peter could explain, they walked out of the room and came face-to-face with Innoka. Peter stopped, while Razan bowed in greeting.

She smiled at Razan, deliberately ignoring Peter. "Hello there. I was hoping to spar with you."

"I will be back in half an hour or so," Razan said. "Or you can join us-"

"I'll wait," she said quickly. "I can spend some time warming up. Just don't take all day." She gave him a teasing smile, and brushed past Peter into the sparring room.

Peter cleared his throat. "I… don't mind if you ditch me for her."

If they liked each other, Razan would have immediately accepted. As it was, he hesitated, weighing the options.

"No," he finally decided. "I offered to help you before she came. It would be impolite of me to leave you."

"Well, thanks," Peter said, following as Razan started towards the weapon room again.

"I was never clear on why she doesn't like you, but she's leaving soon, so it doesn't particularly matter," Razan said.

It took a few moments for Peter to shrug. "Politics. I don't blame her, so, yeah."

"Ah. Politics," Razan decided, nodding sagely. "Leaving that behind, what is a bayonet?"

Peter smiled gratefully before explaining.

Peter watched Sophie struggle once again with chopsticks. She was getting better, but hadn't completely figured it out yet.

"How many days do you have to use those for?" he asked, finishing his own breakfast.

"One per every day I lost by," she grumbled.

"Twenty-six days remain," Razan added smugly.

Peter caught Marie's eye as they both did mental calculations. They reached the answer at the same time.

"You skunked her, nice," Peter laughed.

Marie grinned. "Well done, samurai."

Sophie grumbled, a piece of meat slipping out of her grip. "It's not that impressive."

"Yes it is," Marie said, getting up. She went to the kitchen and returned with a pair of chopsticks. "Thief, put them in your left hand and try holding them like this." She arranged them slightly differently from Razan, held them up, and continued eating breakfast.

"What- How- Why didn't you help sooner?" Sophie complained, switching hands.

"I thought this was only going to last a week," Marie shrugged, having no problems whatsoever with them. "I also thought you'd have it figured out by the second day."

"Which leaves the question of how you're managing to eat grits with chopsticks," Peter said.

"Age and experience, lad," she answered.

"That does not answer the question," Razan pointed out.

The pirate smirked. "I was never clear on why, but for some reason there is a substantial Chinese population in Mexico. Forgive me, but I prefer their food to typical Mexican food. The owner of one particular restaurant insisted everyone use chopsticks, and after a week of nothing but salt pork and hard tack it took us about thirty seconds each to figure out how to eat with them."

Razan nodded, apparently approving. Sophie was still fighting with the rice, but everything else seemed easier for her to grab.

Peter got up, having finished his meal. "I don't know if I've ever had Chinese food."

"It tends to be rice-based," Marie told him, handing over her empty bowl. "You should get a few dishes and try them with Grace."

Peter froze briefly, then nodded politely. "Yes, Captain."

"Speaking of Grace," Razan said, "are we in a truce with the Seabirds this week?"

Marie shook her head. "They were full by the time I spoke with Fael. For this contest we'll be in a truce with Windward, Stars, and Dust."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Dust?" Peter asked.

"That's Ariharu's group," Sophie answered.

Peter didn't precisely know who that was, but assumed it was one of the samurai who haunted the sparring room. Which made him wonder how Sophie knew who he was.

"More accurately, it's Xavier's group," Marie said. "We were in a truce with them for the underwater contest, not that we saw each other. They seem competent. And, importantly, Xavier happened to be standing nearby when Fael told me they were full. Otherwise I would have gone to the Wasps."

Peter put the bowls in the sink and walked back to the table. "We could still ask the Wasps for a truce. We are allowed four truces."

"We could, aye," Marie agreed, leaning back in her chair. "We won't. But we could."

"Yes, Captain," he grumbled, then tipped his hat to the group and walked to the common area.

He moved slowly to the weights room, where Grace tended to be after breakfast. He saw a woman wearing Dust colors, but he didn't know her. Looking around, he realized how many people he didn't know. There were a hundred humans on the ship, if he counted himself, his group, and the one Mask who was human. But he could only name… twenty, including himself. That wasn't good.

By the time he reached the weights room he was feeling downright ashamed of himself. Grace saw him come through the door, and her smile made everything seem less dire.

"Perfect timing," she called without preamble. "Hand me weights after I get on this balancing board, yeah?"

"Uhm, sure," he said, walking over.

Grace stopped him by putting both hands on his shoulders. She squinted suspiciously, looking into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Peter laughed, leaning in to kiss her briefly before shaking his head. "Nothing, I just realized how many people here I don't know. I need to be more social."

"Nah, you'll meet them all in time," she said, letting go of him to step on the board. "Let friendships start and develop naturally."

He handed her the first weight. "You just want me to keep my schedule free so I can spend every evening writing music with you."

"Exactly. Although…"

"Although?" he echoed, passing over the second weight.

She focused on her balance before replying. "Fael is of the opinion we shouldn't spend so much time alone together until we've had a formal discussion about our relationship and what we want for our future."

"Yeah, that sounds like an opinion he'd have," Peter decided.

Grace laughed. "I'm half tempted to tell him to piss off. Should I?"

He shook his head. "No, it's not a bad idea. Makes sense. I don't see why we'd have to tell him the conversation happened, or any details, though."

"And if he asks for details, I can tell him it's none of his damn business," she said.

"Yep."

"So, when do you want to talk?"

"How about… next December?"

"I like the way you think, Poncho."

Sophie focused, carefully copying every line Razan had put on the page. He'd spelled out her name for her in Japanese, and she was determined to learn it by heart before she next went to England.

He occasionally glanced at her work from his own writing, but didn't say anything. She took that to mean she was doing it correctly.

Finally, after what felt like far too long for one single name, she finished. She set her brush down and turned the paper towards him.

"There. Everything correct?" she asked, proud of herself.

He looked down the row of characters, then nodded. "It is legible."

"Why thank you, sir, you're ever so kind," she said sarcastically.

He smiled, pushing the paper back. "You did well. All the brush strokes are in the correct order and direction. For someone who doesn't know what the characters mean, it is impressive."

"Thank you." She pulled her translation card out of a pocket. "This thing is supposed to translate whatever language it sees into English. If it recognizes what I wrote, I figure my handwriting is good enough for anyone to read."

"Interesting," he said, his face going neutral. "When did you get that?"

"Last week," she shrugged, holding it over her paper. "I got some Polish books from…"

According to the device, the word she'd written was "gullible".

Sophie moved the device to the word Razan had written. Also "gullible".

Her eyes slid up to meet Razan's. For a brief moment he looked perfectly innocently neutral, and then he scrambled to his feet, running for the door.

Sophie screamed, jumping up to run after him. The door stalled Razan briefly, and he ducked out into the group area when it was barely half open. That gave Sophie just enough time to catch up, and she tackled him, her hands going around his throat as she yelled curses at him. He stumbled to his knees and twisted, dumping her onto the floor. She lost her grip but quickly sat up, reaching for his throat again. Razan laughed, grabbing her wrists and holding her off as she leaned closer, putting all her weight into it.

He smiled, clearly having fun. Suddenly, inexplicably, Sophie didn't want to kill him any more. Her arms lost their tension, but she kept moving closer to him. Razan's smile changed ever so slightly as his grip released.

"Should we let them know we're here?"

"Uhm…"

Sophie froze. She didn't have to turn to know Peter and Grace were watching them from the kitchen. Razan stiffened, his face going neutral again. For some reason, she wanted to absolutely die of embarrassment.

Instead, she spun to her feet and marched to her room, fists clenched at her sides. Once the door closed behind her, she stopped, breathing hard.

She looked at the quickly-fading marks on her wrists, remembering how he'd kissed her. Remembering how everything else had faded away, how much she'd wanted more.

A knock on her door brought her back to the present. Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she waved at the door to make it open.

Razan smirked, then bowed deeply. "I apologize. I would have told you what was written before you showed anyone else."

Sophie crossed her arms, giving him a haughty huff before stepping back. The door slid closed.

Not sure why, or even how, she started laughing and crying at the same time.

Banda Sea

Marie sat on a long, thin strip of what could charitably be called sand, watching the sun rise. The contest wouldn't begin for another two hours, but she was happy to wait. The waves were growing in front of her, which meant the sea was calmly lapping behind her.

A crab pushed its way out of the beach ahead of her and froze, studying her suspiciously.

"You're too small and I'm not hungry enough," she told it.

It continued watching her for a few moments, then scurried over the broken coral into an oncoming wave.

Marie smiled, turning her attention back to the horizon.

The waves grew higher, but nothing dangerous or even exciting. A good breeze herded clouds across the sky. More crabs appeared as the day grew lighter, and a single bird skimmed over the water to alight on the boat Marie would use during the contest. It preened itself for a moment, then continued on its way north.

Eventually there was a blue flash to her left, and Peter politely cleared his throat.

"I, uhm… Lunch, Captain."

"Thank you," she said, accepting a plate and cup of coffee from him. She glanced at the rolled-up tortillas on the plate and took a bite out of one before focusing on the sunrise again.

"Is… the water supposed to be acting… like it is?" he asked, shuffling to watch both sides at once.

"Aye," Marie answered. "It's even more exciting at the tip of the island."

There was a pause, and then his footsteps trudged away from her. Marie finished her lunch. His footsteps came back.

"I think I don't like islands," Peter decided.

Before she could reply, a blue glow flashed. Razan and Sophie appeared on the island. Sophie spun in place, trying to look at everything at once. Razan gave the world a casual glance, then moved to sit down near and slightly behind Marie.

He gave her a polite nod, and turned to watch the sunrise.

Peter was still looking around suspiciously, and Sophie was staring around in amazement. Marie sighed.

"Peter, Sophie," she called, picking up a piece of coral about the size of her thumb. "Do you know what this is?"

"What?" Sophie asked eagerly.

"Bone?" Peter guessed.

"It's coral," Marie told them. "This whole island is made out of the stuff, broken smaller and smaller. Red coral is worth its weight in gold. See if you can find any pieces this size or larger."

"Right!" Sophie shot down the beach, her eyes glued to the ground.

Peter went in the opposite direction, his pace much slower.

Razan shifted, making himself comfortable. "I wager that will distract them for half an hour."

Marie smirked at him. "Depends on if they find any. At the very least, by the time they get bored they'll be used to being here."

"True."

Silence stretched out between them as the sky slowly turned a pale blue. The sing-song crashing of waves ahead and behind was like a lullaby to Marie, and the cool breeze felt like home.

This was going to be a good day.

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