[Open Broadcast: All Investigators]

[detectivewonder]

[Tim's mental voice is a drill-sergeant's whip-crack command, coming only moments after the Travelers are plunged into the water.]

Nobody panic! Try to keep the airwaves clear unless you need help. If you can't swim, shout out right now and someone will come for you. If you're a strong enough swimmer to help someone, let us know - but if you're not sure and not trained, don't try it. Find something in the water to hang onto. Get rid of shoes or boots if you have to.

Once we're sure we have everyone floating, tell us what you can see. All I have so far are rocks, in the direction the wind is blowing, and the remains of a sailing ship - Coelestis Maria is the name on the plank I'm hanging onto. Cute.

Unless the Trumps are trying to drown us, there must be something else out here somewhere. Land, or another ship.

Comments

[pseudologist]

Considering what the fish demons are wearing, I'm pretty sure you're getting hit no matter what we do.

[But humour cedes ground to...a slightly less flippant sort of humour.]

Don't worry, Bianca and I need to dry off and warm up before we can start any interplanar incidents anyway.

[deconsecrate]

[ The mental equivalent of slapping a hand over the top half of the face goes here. A person could almost hear the wince! ]

I am tormented by a sea of adjectives, and they're all things like 'buoyant,' so I'm personally pretty sure hitting will just be where she starts.

[ Ocean puns and incredible sexual confusion? Yes. He was never meant to see this much of Aveline, okay, even if it does satisfy a small curiosity of the last seven years. ]

[pseudologist]

You know, normally I'd suggest synonyms, but I don't think 'jaunty' would do you any good. Just make it flowery and hope no one notices. I'm sure Isabela will want a full report.

[And this once, it can be from someone not him. Just the thought of Aveline being - being not Aveline is unnerving enough.]

[deconsecrate]

... you know, the resulting friendfiction might be worth inevitable death at Aveline's hands.

[ Let us pray that the lady in question never takes that skill where you can scroll back through the Network. ]

[pseudologist]

Having played editor for the creative mind in question, I can guarantee it would be worth it.

[Not necessarily good - he won't vouch for Isabela's prose, just the entertainment factor.]

[deconsecrate]

When we're less likely to end up as oceanic debris I'll tell you about the time she asked me to do a dramatic reading.

[ Because have you heard Nicholas Boulton's voice? Seriously. ]

[pseudologist]

I'll hold you to that. And I hope you agreed.

[Because that would be nothing short of hilarious.]

[deconsecrate]

It was about Carver. Of course I agreed.

[ He was incapable of reading any more due to gales of laughter before anything sexy happened, fortunately. ]

[pseudologist]

She always was remarkably fond of Junior. Or at least of making him blush.

[deconsecrate]

Believe me, I haven't forgotten. Seeing as how it was happening just behind my left ear for weeks.

She was just waiting until he could grow a beard before swooping in. I didn't have the heart to tell her he'd been trying since he was twelve.

[ It's possible that was right around the time Hawke was stricken by his first bout of Beardliness. ]

[pseudologist]

That would explain the time I walked in on him collecting the sheddings of that hound of yours. I thought it was just some obscure Ferelden custom.

[deconsecrate]

Maker's breath, no, have you seen our coloring? [ He knows, psychically, that somewhere Carver is wincing at 'our,' because Hawke delights in torturing him with how much they look like brothers. ] That was for keeping secretly in all his pockets, so he could seduce my dog away from me.

[pseudologist]

Oh. Well, that's just even more disturbing.

[Is he fixing on the 'seduce' part of the statement? Probably not, but he's happy to pretend he is.]