Amarista
Deep oceans stare back at you. Both in size and emotions they threaten to swallow you whole for they are the basic communication tool for this young Mongrel. Her dark long mane drips about her shoulders like gentle ink droplets, giving shape to her sharp features. High cheekbones and a straight, perky nose complement the round and petite figure. Her skin is dark, tanned; its smoothness is evident and a reflection of her youth.
The same kind of ripeness can be made out in her slim form. Her figure would be slight were it not for the round breasts and full hips. She has finally allowed herself to wear the furs of the Aesir that welcome her, thus hiding her usually enticing shape. The cloak that covers her is of a beautiful shade of white that sets off her skin tone. The bear skin is of the finest kind making the cloak an obvious present the Mongrel would not be able to afford otherwise. The excess of fabric just serves to arouse curiosity as to the hidden figure. Her red dress is obvious solely where it presses against the curves of Amarista's bare chest. Her kiss-me lips scream that an honest, somewhat impetuous and free spirit lies deep inside those two seas.
Lorelei
You see a petite woman with a trim, even athletic, figure no more than 21 years of age. Long, slightly curly, dark hair cascades, unbound, past her shoulders and down her back in contrast to the woman's smooth sandy white complexion; sea green eyes glow softly with a hint of mischievousness. At either side of her throat small slits, barely visible, serve as gills. They, like her webbed fingers and toes, betray her Atlantean heritage.
She is dressed simply in an ivory-coloured peasant style blouse and a pair of black breeches. A red sash is tied securely about her waist; a sheathed bone knife hangs in a scabbard at her side.
Crew's Quarters and Galley - Amarada
The crew's quarters and galley are right next to one another to facilitate dining and relaxation as well as guard against disasters by having many hands close by to remedy any emergencies that might crop up in the kitchen. The quarters are tight, with each man having a storage trunk or closet to his name and a bunk or hammock to sleep in. The bedframes are solid fused wood that are all interconnected and interlaced like so many branches from the same tree, the Amarada herself the trunk from which they all grow. The galley consists of an open kitchen that leads out into a large room with a series of long tables and benches that are also fused into the floor for the sake of stability.
The middle of the day greets the crew of the Amarada with calmer times than the past days. The commons today, as of late, is packed with sailor with not much to do in the ship. Tension permeates in the air from too much time spent in close quarters. One of those affected by the dense atmosphere is Amarista who carries a tray with her as she steps out of the kitchen. The bowls on the big tray contain a sort of grayish soup, not attractive at all for the senses. The girl reaches a table and sets the tray down as if trying to get away from it as soon as possible.
Lorelei carefully makes her way inward, mindful of the sailors. A slight frown mars her face as she looks about her but, then, she spots Amarista and heads over toward her, a smile upon her face. She waves just once before sitting down beside her.
A grin takes over lips that had been tight. "Hail Lorelei" Amrista greets before opening her eyes wide. "Tyche damn me, the damn Aesir is rubbing off on me!" The bowls before her stay untouched and the girl shifts on her sit. "I thought you men were starving!" She calls out trying to impersonate the cook of the Amarada as best she can.
Lorelei smiles widely, eyes lighting up with laughter, but she doesn't mean to laugh -at- Amarista but to laugh -with- her. She raises her eyebrows and gestures with one hand toward the girl. The men might be starving but none can be too eager to eat the grayish soup.
The woman by her delights Amarista as always. She nods happily as Lorelei laughs. Yet, as she gestures to her, Amarista eyes the other girl curiously trying to figure out what she can do to help the Atlantean. Thinking that the other gestures for some of the crap on the table she takes a bowl and hands it to Lorelei, "Here you go. How fare you today? Hopefully you are doing far better than some of the men in this place."
Some of Lorelei's happiness fades. It is hard on her when she can't be understood. She is just about to reach for her pad when Amarista hands the bowl to her. She smiles, ruefully. Who is she to be ungrateful? Cautiously, she tries a spoonful. It's not too bad. She's used to Amarada fare by now. Wanting to respond to Amarista's questions, she reaches for a scrap of paper to write upon. 'I am as good as can be expected considering our circumstances. How are you?' she writes, allowing Amarista the opportunity to read as she does so.
The Mongrel traces her eyes slowly over each letter Lorelei has written on her pad. It is her turn then to lower her gaze as if it could cover the bitterness in her smile and her tone, "I am tired Lorelei. I am about to throw myself into the waters and swim to Haven." Her eyes scan her hands and she nibbles on the right corner of her lower lip, "I never though I would say that," she chuckles. As Lorelei tries the soup Amarista wrinkles her nose. Yet, a nervous pinky finger seeks the rim of a bowl near to her.
Lorelei slowly tries another spoonful. She knows she ought to eat. She needs food. She is about to take another spoonful when her companion speaks. Sea green eyes widen in concern. 'I understand' she writes. 'It is difficult to be shipwrecked.' She ponders, frowning slightly. 'Maybe what we need is some fresh air. Do you want to come up to the deck with me?' While she waits for the Mongrel to read her reply, she has a little more of the soup.
"How can you eat that thing? I haven't been able to eat in days. Im starving." Amarista can't bring herself to touch the soup. Her eyes flash gratefully at Lorelei's suggestions, "I have been terrified to go on deck Lorelei. But, I guess it is time to face the outside." She mumbles to herself, more an attempt to reassure herself than anything else.