You're not in Ketra anymore...(Open!)

[Anonymous]

"Ships are a little strange if you haven't been on them before" He admitted casually as he arranged the harness and began adjusting it for fit before snapping it in place and adjusting it some more. "You'll be fine. When we take off, you'll feel like you're being shoved down into your seat, that's normal. You may see some black spots, some people do, 'specially when they aren't used to ships. Occasionally people pass out, but you'll just wake up once we're up out of the atmosphere and be fine. Mostly, all you need to do, is just sit there." He said as he dropped into a seat across from him rather unceremoniously before strapping himself in. His harness was a little different, but then again, he did have a much thicker body and odd tentacles that appeared all over without consistency.

"Close your eyes and count backwards slowly from twenty, and try to breathe evenly." Cook suggested, leaning back in his chair, apparently at ease with the situation.

Engines started reving as power gathered to propel the ship into the atmosphere, G-forces baring down on the occupants of the ship as it struggled to escape the gravity of the planet before finally easing up as the ship hit space.

Cook seemed to be simply waiting for everything to be finished so they could get back to the things that had to be done, but he didn't seem scared or upset. "See? Generally, things go smoothly after that bit. Landing is the same sort of idea, but in reverse."

[Anonymous]

Samari watched Cook attach the harness, taking his hands off the back of the chair and kicking his feet in front of him.  A chest harness?  Samari poked one of the straps across his shoulder, listening to Cook explain about some of the effects.

Black spots in his eyes?  Passing out?  Samari set his jaw and decided he wasn't going to pass out or stare blankly ahead if he saw any black spots.  It was bad enough that he was so nervous about the flying ship moving.  He had to regain some dignity.  So he nodded when Cook suggested he close his eyes and count.

It'd be like meditating.  The ship would get out the atmosphere before he even realized what was happening.  Samari closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair and took a deep breath.

Twenty...

Then the earthquake started.  If the end of the world had a sound, Samari could imagine it being like the sound that accompanied the rumbling.  Samari held tight to the straps of the harness and tried to maintain his breathing.

Nineteen... ...Eighteen... ...Seventeen... ...Sixteen...

His stomach felt like it was set free to ooze around his gut, then tripping and falling, and, begin unable to get up, lashing around helplessly.  Now he was acutely aware of the food in it.  Puking was quickly added into his list of things he didn't want to do on this trip.

Fifteen... ...Fourteen... ...Thirteen... ...Twelve...

How long was this going to take?

Eleven... ...Ten... ...Nine... ...Eight...

Now his stomach felt like it was floating.  At least that would help it get back in it's proper place.  Hopefully without letting out any ballast out.

Seven... ...Six... ...Five... Four...

Things were starting to feel normal again.  Even the nausea was starting to fade away a bit.

Three... ...Two... ...One...

Samari took another deep breath and opened his eyes.  There were a few black spots floating in front of his eyes.  Either they were lingering or it was because he had his eyes closed so long.  Samari let go of the harness and looked back at Cook.  "I don't think I'm going to look forward to that," Samari admitted, his voice soft.  "Is it safe now?"

[Anonymous]

Cook had been watching the boy, trying not to be too amused by the sight of a newbe on a ship. It had been a very long while since he'd been one. He scarcely even remembered it anymore. It had also been awhile since he'd seen a newbe on a ship, at least one as fresh as this kid. Most of them had at least been on a ship of some kind. They had to get around after all.

"Yeah, it's safe" Cook began unstrapping himself, occasionally shoving tenticles out of the way as they seemed determined to try to help him. He hoisted his heavy frame up out of the chair and made his way over to the kid. "Alright, hold still, I'll let you loose" He didn't really want to have to figure out how to reset the harness if the kid got himself worked up and ended up messing it up some how. A couple of clicks though and the harness came apart. "How you feeling?" He didn't care to clean up vomit, though it wouldn't have been the first time. There had been a couple guys on board at one point who never quite seemed to get used to the whole taking off and landing portions of the trip. As far as Cook remembered, they'd finally gotten out of the business.

[Anonymous]

The black spots were still there...  They better not be permanent.  Samari held his eyes open until the edges began to water, blinked and repeated.  By the second time the hazy spots were gone.  Samari would have breathed a sigh of relief if Cook wasn't close enough to hear it.

He nodded when Cook told him to stay still and followed it from the neck down, leaning his head sideways to watch Cook fuss with the straps.  Those fasteners were interesting.  He was going to need a pen and paper to start writing down all the interesting things Aedolis had.  Then he'd need time to sit down and look at them all too - figure out what they were made of and how they operated.  

Once he was free, Samari slumped back in the chair and looked up at Cook.  For now he was in now hurry to go walking around.  He didn't trust his knees to hold him up, and something in his gut was still slowly turning around.  "Alive," he answered, trying not to raise his eyebrows or smirk.  "Am I supposed to feel like my legs are made of ribbons and my stomach's come to life?"

Hearing him talk about it seemed to have attracted his stomach's attention, it pulsed, sending up a wave of discomfort.  Samari tried, but failed, not to make a face.  "Do you have any ginger?"

[Anonymous]

"Yeah, legs like ribbons and a stomach on a rampage are fairly normal at first" Cook admitted "And no, I don't have ginger, but I have stuff to settle your stomach. Sit here and I'll be back in a minute" He said, lumbering off towards one side of the room where he pushed a button and a small door opened out of the wall, revealing bottles of tablets. He picked up one of the bottles and shook two tablets into his hand before he left the room briefly and returned with a cup of water. He dropped the two tablets into the cup and they started fizzing. "Alright, drink on that awhile. It'll settle your stomach. It might even be derived from ginger originally, I don't know" By this point in time, they probably didn't have anything from a natural source, they had the chemical compounds that had been learned from a natural source and then improved-- or that was his understanding and assumption for the time being between what he had read and what he had heard.

Cook settled back down in his own chair. At least for the most part, 'sailing' wasn't generally too nausiating. Mostly, it just 'was'. It was part of the trip but nothing exciting or note worthy, not a lot of rocking or jolting as long as everything went as planned.

[Anonymous]

Flying was no fun.  If he ever got back to Necromantia he was going to ask Oris if flying on his own made him feel funny after he landed.  Probably not, at one point he was made to fly around.  Hopefully it wasn't possible to get flying sickness like sea sickness.  He was able to avoid being doubled over the side of the ship because he didn't technically have anything in his stomach to empty.

Samari could only hope whatever Cook had for an upset stomach would keep his calm until he was back on solid ground again.  If he was lucky, he would never leave it again after that.

Who was he kidding.  If he was lucky he wouldn't have been fighting in an alchemy lab in the first place.  If he was really lucky he wouldn't have had a reason to go fight another vampire in an alchemist's lab.  

Samari watched Cook while he moved around the room, to keep his eyes from rolling up into his skull, if anything.  Watching the door he disappeared behind when he did, his head lolling to the side to rest on his shoulder.  He managed to push himself up into something that looked like the basics of the proper way to sit in a chair when Cook came back with the glass.

The glass with bubbly liquid.  Bubbly because of the little tablets.  Samari took the glass and watched the liquid pop and sizzle before taking a little sip.  A bubble popped on his upper lip and send a little drop into his nose.  It wasn't that bad.  Samari drank the rest slowly and slumped in the chair again.  

"That was a-" Samari sat up and clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening.  Then his eyebrows rose and the hand came down, his mouth curled up in confusion.  "Thought I was going to be urp"  Samari looked mortified for a second, then relaxed, a little grin working across his face.  "Pardon me."  He sat quietly for a moment, waiting to see if anything else tried to escape.  When the coast seemed clear he asked.  "Do you have a hard time keeping children away from those tablets?"

[Anonymous]

Cook settled back against a button-free portion of the console, leaning lightly and allowing Samari a bit of space, which was for both of their benefits. No one likes to be crowded, and no one wants to risk being vomited on either.

He gave an odd sort of smile when Samari burped. It was almost as if the boy was not experienced in burping, which he found a little odd, though perhaps if whatever they ate at necromancia was specially engineered, burping was not a common practice, but somehow that seemed rather unlikely.

"Well, here we certainly don't. We don't have any children within several thousand miles in all likelihood." Cook stated. "But I suppose it's possible in a normal household they might, but I wouldn't know for sure. Haven't lived in a house with kids since I was one myself." He admitted, his little tentacles curling around various bits of the console in an absent fashion. "but I'm sure occasionally they get into them, if nothing else, to watch them fizz. It's definitely not to drink the stuff. There are carbonated beverages that taste much better than that medicine stuff, and those are probably what kids would rather get into." He considered something. "Did you have candy, or desserts where you came from? sweet things other than fruit?" Somehow, he was still curious. Generally, he couldn't care less about gleaning information. He did his job and that was good enough for him. Maybe it was the enormous mystery and urban legend surrounding the entire country. No one knew anything about it...except this boy, who had never seen fizzy tablets.

None of it really made sense, unless he was a time jumper. He couldn't really think of any other good reason, unless he had been frozen until just recently, but he didn't think cryogenics had gotten that advanced before Necromancia had been wiped out, but his knowledge in the history and advances of Cryogenics was not extensive, so it was entirely possible he had his time line wrong, but that made marginally more sense than time jumping. After all, there were very few ways to jump time, and none of them were good. It was too easy to screw things up that way.

"You need to lay down or anything? I can find you a berth if you want." Cook offered, his leg creaking as he shifted more of his weight to the console behind him. He at least knew that it wasn't going to break. His was reinforced. He didn't want to walk through his room, stumble, and catch himself on the console, only to have the entire thing come crashing down in a shower of electrical sparks. The captain would kill him, not to mention the owner. Over time, he'd reinforced most of the consoles. Falling against them was not an altogether uncommon occurrence.

[Anonymous]

Just a quick post to let you know that I'm still around.

I got devoured by work... I'll fill this up with the real post soon!

[Anonymous]

((*headdesk* So sorry for taking so long to respond here!  I'll actually be going on vacation in a couple weeks, so I should be able to post a little more regularly.))

Samari raised an eyebrow when Cook said that children wouldn't drink the tablet water.  it seemed odd, most children he knew wouldn't pass up the chance to drink something that would make them do something disgusting.  Were they just kept in line better here.  Or were they sneakier.  The second possibility was horrifying...

Remembering different kinds of sweets available in Necromantia was a welcome diversion to an inevitable day-mare about sneaky kids.  Samari drummed his fingers on the side of the glass and chewed his bottom lip, trying to think of some of the stuff Crowa used to eat.  "I'm not that big a fan of sweet food," he half-lied.  "So I'm not the best person to ask about dessert.  Most Necromantian desserts use syrup, honey or berries.  Children usually don't get anything more than a crumb or two though.  It destroys their teeth after wrecking their parents' nerves."  Of course, there were parents that over-indulged their brats with all the sweet food they could stomach.  Which usually made them go berserk shortly after.  Maybe it was the same here too.  That sweets weren't intended to be wantonly devoured by children, but still happened to the annoyance of everyone that appreciated a moment of peace and quiet.

There was still a mouthful or so of the bubbly stuff left in the glass, which Samari swirled around before drinking.  Sucking it down in two separate mouthfuls instead of one to avoid burping again and setting the glass down on an armrest.  He put a hand up when Cook asked if he wanted to lie down and shook his head.  "I should be alright."

After a few seconds Samari grinned.  "You're pretty lucky, never living with children.  I don't like them, but the smaller they are, the more they seem to like me."  Samari shrugged.  "Once, an associate of mine tricked me into watching his children for a few days.  I'm not sure how any of us survived."

[Anonymous]

((Well, I'm glad you're back. I thought you'd poofed.   ))

"Well, Children don't much belong on ships" Cook said lightly "So I haven't had to bother with them for more than a few days at a time, if that. I have a sister who has children. Met them a time or two. Mostly well behaved, but children in general have a knack for getting into stuff." He looked up to the boy again. "No dental care out there?" that was odd, considering how far dentistry had come over the years, to have a place that wouldn't give children sweets due to teeth rotting away was interesting indeed.

The ship shuddered a little and Cook examined the console a moment before picking up a radio "Thomas, you're too close."

The radio crackled in response. "How'd you know it was me?"

"It's always you. Take care of it." Cook retorted, putting the radio aside. "There are gravity fields around some planets, get too close and gravity is trying to pull the ship into the planet, and the ship is trying to continue forward." He explained to Samari. "Usually nothing to worry about. Thomas just has a knack for clipping the gravity fields. He's our navigator." He didn't usually end up driving either. He navigated while the pilot, or the captain drove.

"Anyway, your babysitting sounds like quite an adventure" Cook admitted. "Were they horrible? Or were you just not particularly equipped to take care of children, given you already didn't like them and all?"

[Anonymous]

Dental?  Samari tilted his head, trying to figure out what that word meant.  It was some sort of care and possibly related to chil-

When he thought about it afterward, the rocking that passed through the ship wasn't that terrible.  It was unexpected.  While it was happening Samari slid upright in his seat and gripped the sides, glancing around for where the harness was stored.  It was over before Samari could find them, which made him feel a bit embarrassed for overreacting.  Cook's relative ease could only mean that sort of thing happened regularly and wasn't anything to worry about.

Or, from listening to Cook talk through a box that had been on the thing he was sitting on, it happened whenever Thomas, the superstitious navigator, was steering.  He wondered if the rocking of this air ship was anything like the rocking a sea ship did on the water.  That's probably what Cook meant when he was explaining about gravity fields.  Oceans had their own special phenomena, why would the sky be any different?

Samari grinned when Cook asked about the worst favor ever.  He slumped back in his seat and put the back of his hand against his forehead, sighing dramatically.  "I was the worst person to watch them, and they were the worst children for me to take in.  They were twins, completely doted on by their father.  The mother died in labor, so my associate thinks these children are going to grow up to be mighty necromancers.  Somehow he also gets it into his head to raise them himself instead of hiring someone to take care of them, because they're too good to associate with 'lesser people' or some nonsense.  The twins, there was one boy and one girl, completely ignore my apprentice and housekeeper.  The boy is getting into everything - and my house is not the safest place for curious people, insisting that he's not going to get hurt because his father always lets him investigate anything.  The girl spends the first day asking me where my husband is and once she realizes I'm the master of the house she attaches herself to my leg and stays there."  Samari rolled his eyes.  "Five minutes couldn't pass without them needing something.  They didn't like the food my housekeeper prepared and refused to sleep in my guest room.  If I could have, I would have sent them back to their father black and blue."

Samari eased a little further up the chair.  "I might have had more than their father cross with me if I hit them though.  Most people liked the twins, probably because they never had to take care of them.  Or maybe their staff was better prepared to handle them."

[Anonymous]

"It's amazing how well people like children before they really meet them" Cook admitted, glancing at the dials again, but seeming apparently satisfied with them as he settled back to chatting with Samari. "I've never taken care of children for more than maybe a few hours at a time. Not too many people even trust me to watch them that long, but that's probably in my favor. I don't have a lot of patience with most people, and I'm not used to dealing with children-- and I don't think about things like them getting into fizzy medicine, or the like, so if they were at my house, they'd probably be half drowned in mechanical fluids and choking on bolts and spare parts for my leg." He laughed. The idea of him caring for children was rather absurd, though they would have a darn time sneaking past him. His tentacles seemed to have minds of their own.

"You feeling better yet?" Cook asked. The boy didn't look like he was going to puke at least, but you never could tell with people. He glanced at the time and went and retrieved something else from the little medicine cabinet, mixing it up and returning to the console to drink it. There was more to having a mechanical leg that responded to your own nerves than just tying it on. At least he'd had it long enough, if he missed a dose of his meds it wasn't such a big deal. There were definitely times when getting the medicine was difficult, and then others when having it even on board was more trouble than Cook really cared to bother with.

"You mentioned you had an apprentice." Cook pointed out "What did you teach?" This boy didn't look like someone Cook would generally think of as a master of a trade, but then again, Cook hadn't gotten past the point of feeling that Samari was a boy, and not a man, but Cook's perspective was tainted by apparent age differences. He was heading for old by his species standard, while Samari seemed quite young-- though perhaps that was because the poor man was scared and vulnerable.

[Anonymous]

Cook's statement about people liking children before meeting them made Samari laugh out loud.  He sat up a little straighter and propped one foot on his knee.  No one back in Thanatos would have called him patient or good with children, but most of his associates weren't patient with living (or unliving) creatures and most of the parents among them didn't have anything to do with raising their children.  Having an apprentice was probably what damned him to being thought of as a babysitter in the first place.  Never mind that there was a difference between your own apprentice and another person's darling brat.

There didn't seem to be much reason to seasickness on a water going ship, the strongest would spend the trip doubled over the rail, while the person who was always sick would be relatively comfortable.  If airsickness was any way similar there was no reason to assume that he was clear just yet.  It could be the fizzy medicine that was keeping him from being doubled over the... whatever he'd be doubled over on this air-ship.  For the time being, he was good, so he nodded.  "I think I'll be alright," he added - a bit of wishful thinking, but it couldn't hurt.

Samari wondered if Cook needed to get medicine to help him combat airsickness.  If this was the time it would usually show up on an air-ship.  This medicine didn't sound like it was fizzing though, and Cook stirred it.  The fizzy medicine just dissolved on its own.  He was about to ask about it when Cook asked what he taught, and Samari saw opportunity knocking.  They had to know what he was good at so he could work on this ship.

"With my apprentice - I taught just about everything:  How to read, how to write, how to clean, to cook, to dress properly, to speak properly.  He was a quite a challenge, that Crowa."  Samari paused, tilting his head to the side slightly and watching Cook's expression before continuing.  "I was supposed to teach him Necromancy, but he didn't have the knack for it.  So I taught him enough basic alchemy to get into a guild in Ketra."

Where, Samari thought afterward, he's lying bloodless in a gutter somewhere with that shrew of his and the child... unless Villi was teleported somewhere too.  Samari exhaled through his nose, a puff that came out a little louder than he intended.

[Anonymous]

Cook grinned and nodded, glad to have him doing alright for he time being "If you start feeling queasy again, let me know, I'll get you another dose" He assured, leaning back as best he could.

Cook listened intently, drinking down the rather thick medicine diligently, but without enjoyment. He was used to it by now, so there was no gagging, or choking or making faces, but he still didn't consider it to be pleasant under reasonable circumstances.

"Does a person have to be born with some skill to become skilled in Necromancy, or is it something that can be learned?" Making the dead undead was a taboo in most cultures he'd come across, so it was fascinating in a morbid and forbidden way. He had questions about alchemy also, but they were sure to come later, as long as they didn't get to dropping Samari off before then.

Most of his knowledge was just what he'd picked up along the way, and stories shared between sailors. He could read and write, but he hadn't taken any real interest in mechanics until he decided dragging himself back to the hospital to be refit any time his bits broke was going to get very old, very quickly. To his surprise, he'd discovered he was actually pretty good at them when he wanted to be.

"I suppose eventually we'll have to find you someplace to sleep" Cook said, mostly thinking aloud. "Unless you don't need so much sleep" There were those species also, the ones that slept an hour or two when they felt like it and not much more.

[Anonymous]

The second Samari thought he could feel his head spin he was going to ask Cook for more of that medicine.  There were no rails he could double over to air out his insides and vomit was the only thing that could ruin his clothing any more.  He had no desire to clean vomit off the floor if he couldn't get to whatever people got sick in on an air-ship either.

Samari fussed with the tear at his knee, rubbing nails that couldn't quite be considered claws anymore over the frayed ends of the cloth.  "It's a little of both.  A person needs to have a little spark, I've heard it called, in order to do any type of magic.  In most, it's the potential to do magic.  The same as a person having the potential to be a good swordsman or good baker.  Crowa had the spark, but it wasn't enough to be any good, at least at Necromancy.  I'm not good enough at other types of magic to teach them.

"Alchemy doesn't need anything other than a willingness to learn.  Either that was good enough for him or he believed me when I said there were worse masters to apprentice under."

That seemed a lot more clever in his head.  Oh well, he was sure Cook knew someone that went through a similar experience.  If cooks took apprentices then maybe he had one himself.

Samari looked up and blinked when Cook mentioned finding him a place to sleep.  Was it about that time?  What time was it anyway?  He slumped a little further in the chair and grinned.  "I've tried sleeping little once, it didn't work out well."  Of course that was back when he would start feeling groggy as soon as the sun came up.  There was no need to stop getting that much sleep.  With all this madness going on, he needed to spend at least five undisturbed hours curled up in a ball on whatever there was to sleep on.

[Anonymous]

Cook nodded "Makes sense. People've got skills of all sorts" He reasoned. "Someone who's good at Machines might not be any good at Navigating." He shrugged. "Course, most people don't think of cooks as mechanics, but everybody's got their skills."

He set the cup aside, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth to try to force the taste away a little faster. "No, it's not that time just yet, but I figure, once we find you a suitable place, if you get tired, you can just make your way there, and I won't have to worry about showing you where it is if you need to fall into bed around dinner time." He was a cook after all. If he didn't have dinner ready in a timely fashion, the crew got put out with him, and while that generally didn't bother him, he did like to do his job well when he was able. "What kind of place do you need to sleep?" He'd run across some odd needs. There was the one who needed it completely dark, there was one who needed light, one who had to have a hard mattress, one who needed a soft one, the hammock guy, the floor guy, the one who needed one high up. The list went on and on. He himself slept anywhere the opportunity arose, but he was perhaps a special case. His tentacles replaced the need to have a specialized bed everywhere he went, though his berth was indeed specialized to support all of his mechanical parts and ensure his bulk was supported evenly and allowed him the best night of sleep. Most of the berths in the ship were narrow, taking up as little space as possible, which meant if he was going to sleep in them, he was perched precariously on his side. After falling off once when the ship hit a pocket of rough space in the middle of the night, Cook had remodeled his room, and the owner of the ship had eventually allowed him to order a bed that suited his needs, and with Cook in a better mood, the ship's crew was also happier in general.

"You don't sleep much then, I take it?" He enjoyed his sleep, but being on a ship, he generally got a few hours a night and then catnaps here and there between meals when things were going smoothly. Otherwise, he was on the go, getting things done, cleaning, scouring, preparing and repairing and occasionally building. He loved when they got to pick up a load of scrap. It made his life so much easier when he had to rebuild things, whether it was his kitchen or his limbs.

[Anonymous]

That made sense.  Better to find a spot now, when nothing seemed to be happening, then later on when something might get in the way.  

The last time Samari was on a ship, he slept on what he called a shelf and the sailors called a bunk.  It was narrow and had nothing to protect its occupant from any sort of motion.  Which, on a ship, was constant.  If one wasn't being rattled around the three solid sides of the shelf, one was falling over the edge and onto the floor.  Samari never figured out how the sailors managed to stay in them.  It probably came with the package when a person decided to become a sailor.  Sleeping on a shelf, walking on a rocking surface, not getting sick, living off leather for... something, getting to live a half dozen places in a year or some other nonsense.

The beds on the air-ship sounded much better after Cook asked if there was anything he'd need.  That wasn't an option on a normal ship.  Samari raised his eyebrows, grinning a little.  "All I need is peace and quiet.  If you have any pillows collecting dust, I wouldn't mind putting them to good use."

Then came the bit about him not sleeping much.  Samari blinked and tilted his head to the side.  "I don't need to sleep much, but I like to sleep, whenever I can."

Samari leaned forward in the chair and gave the floor a suspicious look.  "This ship doesn't move around too much does it?  I don't have... well... on a water ship they call them sea legs.  I don't have them.  If I'm not crawling, I'm stumbling around like a drunkard."

[Anonymous]

"I think I can find you a pillow" Cook said with a bit of a crooked grin. "We usually keep a few around this place." They came in handy when an injury occurred and the wounded needed to be padded. Nothing worse than being beat all to hell and then being rattled around a ship.

"Like me then. I enjoy my sleep, but don't get to indulge much, but I get along fine with a few hours" Being on a ship meant being able to roll with the punches. Sometimes things came up and the crew couldn't sleep for well over 24 hours. People usually got cranky and fights were more likely to break out, but thankfully, it didn't happen often, and crew taking shifts were generally able to overcome most difficulties they encountered.

"Ah, sea legs. Well, generally, it's not too bad as long as we aren't taking off, landing or doing a hyper jump-- that's when we all strap into the chairs" He explained "Once in awhile, we hit rough patches. There's stuff floating around in space, and sometimes it gets in our way and makes our path a little bumpy, but there's rarely any rocking." He shrugged "Don't feel too bad though. I can't stand on a ship in the water either." His leg was made for walking and standing, not swaying from side to side all the time. It had been like taking a piece of thin metal and bending it back and forth repeatedly. He'd been furious, but not being able to walk around properly put him in a foul mood very quickly.

"Come on, we'll give it a try. If you can't do it, I'll find a way to get you into your room without making you crawl there." Cook assured, rising from his perch against the console and offering his 'real' hand to Samari. No need to accidentally pinch any of his fingers or anything.

[Anonymous]

If Samari was with Cook when he found the pillows, he could always sneak back there later and grab more if his sleeping space wasn't cozy enough.  Or if these beds were the same sort of shelves that a normal ship had.  He'd need some padding to fall into now that falling was more than an embarrassment.

Samari nodded.  "I've been told I'm not pleasant to be around when I haven't been sleeping well," he shrugged a shoulder.  "Of course, I wasn't very civil with a couple of them to begin with so I'm not sure how honest a fact that is."

If Cook couldn't stand on a normal ship and was able to make his way around an air ship without a problem, he shouldn't have too much difficulty.  Of course, this would be his first time walking around on an air ship.  It couldn't be that hard, not if another person that couldn't walk on a normal ship could do it.  The chair was right here if he felt shaky anyway.

Cook was offering his hand too.  There was no way he could fail at this.  Samari took Cook's hand and stood up.  The light, wobbly feeling in his knees had to be shot nerves.  All he had to do was stand a while and they would straighten themselves out.  Samari stood in front of the chair for a few seconds, his other hand held out for balance.  Once he was sure his knees were going to behave, Samari took one step.  Followed shortly after by another step.  Then another and one more until he was standing near Cook.  After the second successful step, he put his free hand back at his side.

"You know," he said.  "I think I might have been fussing for no reason."

[Anonymous]

Cook watched him curiously. It seemed odd for someone to be so worried about falling on a ship, but then again, if they'd been on the water and made a complete fool of themselves, Cook understood the need to avoid repeating the event. "This way" Cook invited, heading in his lumbering fashion out through the kitchen and to the hallway. Down the hallway he went, making sure Samari was doing alright still and adjusting his speed accordingly. He stopped at the bottom of a ladder that lead to an upper deck.

"You any good with ladders?" He hated them and rarely was found on the upper deck unless he had to be there for some reason. There wasn't usually any reason for him to leave the lower deck anyway. The engine compartment, his quarters, the hold and the galley were all perfectly accessible to him without climbing up the blasted ladder.

His mechanical foot did not have sensors that gave him enough sensation to feel the rungs under his boot, and it made him quite likely to fall. Then his tentacles got nervous and latched on and essentially wove him into the ladder and railings. It had been unpleasant and quite humiliating for him to be rescued off a ladder that was really not that tall.

"At the top of the landing there is a door on the left, in it is the bedding." It would definitely be easier if Samari could do it himself, otherwise he had to actually get someone to respond to him and leave what they were doing to help him out, but, given the boy was afraid to walk, Cook wasn't holding his breath by any means.