Mel cocked her head as Xandria described the underwater experience. There was an undercurrent of affection for the water and the sea in the woman's words. It didn't take much for a dog to pick up on enthusiasm. "Oh, it sounds wonderful!" Mel responded. "You're lucky to have spent so much time in an environment you love."

In fact, if Mel wasn't mistaken--and she could be, what with the ship being brand new and sitting next to the buffet with its dizzying array of choices--Xandria was even wearing a salt-water perfume. It was quite fitting for the occasion, and much more pleasant than the lingering construction dust.

"You know, if you're interested, we could check out the mini-golf course sometime," said Mel. She didn't play with a club, the way those with opposable thumbs could, but she was able to give the ball a good thwack with her feathery tail and send them rolling in the correct direction. It was fun for her, and had always been amusing for anyone playing with her in the past. She licked her chops. Thinking about the smells had made her hungry again. "I'm going back for seconds--do you want me to get you anything while I'm up?"

"Mmm, thank you, but I've barely started on this plate," Xandria said. "It definitely tastes likes seconds are merited though!"

She watched as Mel went through the line again. She had never been much of a dog person--but then, she had never had much exposure to dogs--but Mel seemed quite nice. Then again, perhaps that was because she was a talking dog, and more intelligent than other dogs. Did talking make her more intelligent? It seemed to make sense that it would.

Xandria glanced out the window again. They were making good time, and were already quite a ways out. A little tickle deep inside of her wanted to go take a swim and see exactly how far out they were, but her better sense prevailed. She knew she needed to avoid swimming for this vacation. No swimming, no water spills, none of that nonsense.

Maybe taking a vacation on a boat wasn't such a good idea after all.

The couple watched Twig's wave goodbye and make her exit.

"I suppose we should get ready for dinner too," Angie said. At her husband's nod she called to their daughter. "Grace, fifteen more minutes, then we're going to get ready for dinner."

"Aw, Mom," she groaned. "We're having a lot of fun."

"All right, twenty, but then you're done."

"Okay, Mom."

Alone again Pittersticks retrieved his luggage from its hiding place. He checked the map and the roster looking for an empty cabin. Perfect! The cabin next to Mr. Waters was empty. Pittersticks slowly opened the door and check the hallway. Finding it safe, if slipped out and headed toward his new cabin. He paused at the plant next to his fine picture of a squirrel* and put a small camera in the branches. Now he would be able to see Mr. Waters’ reaction. He entered his new cabin and set up his laptop. The camera was live.

Out of Charactrer: *Original artwork by Meltintalle. Pittersticks did not include the caption on the wall.

"Same applies to you, Kaelin," Maeve called before turning back to Angie and the others. They continued to chat until it was time to call the girls out, and then everyone headed to their separate cabins to clean up.

"That was sooooo much fun," Kaelin giggled, flopping on her bed, still wrapped in a wet towel.

"Oy, don't get my bed wet, ya goob," Maeve countered. Kaelin giggled again.

"Honestly, I could take a nap here," she said, then sat up. "Guess I have to shower, first, though?"

"Good guess," Maeve replied.

"Shower it is, then!"

It had been several days since the cruise had embarked, and it seemed that everything was going quite swimmingly. Nothing too treacherous had occurred, and, while Mr. Waters might definitely be odd, Delia had determined he was essentially harmless. She had spent most of her time curled up with a book (well, several book). Here, there were no ghosts worth chasing or catching, no escaped monsters, no other weirdnesses.

Then the chandelier started swinging.

"Really?" Delia grumbled. "If you're a ghost, go away. I'm on vacation."

It stopped.

"Thank you," Delia said, not looking up from her book.

The chandelier started swinging again.

"No, no, no, no, no," Delia grumbled, setting her book in her lap and looking up.

There was no ghost disturbing the lighting. Delia stood to investigate, only to find the ship was pitching under her. Grumbling, she began to head down to talk to the crew, but the ship continued to pitch, and seemed to break apart underneath her. A few minutes later, she found herself in the water, struggling to figure out which way was up. She eventually found her way onto a sandy beach.

"So much for a nice, slow, pleasant vacation," she grumbled.

You are welcome to wrap up any conversations your points of interest you want before you experience the crash, but please, join us on the island at your earliest convenience.

Waters lay on his berth, a cold compress on his forehead; though his body was still, his mind was charging around restlessly. So far, there had been no overt plot or crime that he had been able to trace down. Several suspicious occurrences, but no definite leads.

As soon as he had run into that young guy in the white suit--what was his name, anyway? Disraeli, Chamberlain, Thatcher, something of the sort--all his mental bells began whirring. A kidnap plot? A jewelry heist? A rich young heir of millions was always a certain mark for opportunistic criminals. On the other hand, maybe Jr was the one to watch--his name had been connected by rumour to various dodgy forays in the past. Must keep an eye on him!

With a groan, IC Waters pulled himself to his feet. He would find nothing here. Perhaps there would be something dubious happening at the buffet. Stepping out into the hall, he was confronted by the leering image of a squirrel. He tottered backwards into his cabin, his eyes rolling wildly. Gasps of whimpering sound emanated from his lips. Somebody knew!

In a frenzy, he dashed out again and reached up to tear the picture off the wall. A sound in the hall made him vacillate. Was somebody coming? Without further warning, the deck beneath him began to shake violently; the next instant it crumpled, and he was plunged into a swelter of waves.

Faye gasped and panted for breath as she pulled herself onto the shore. She had been making a quick sketch of the clouds over the sea, and had vaguely debated actually turning it into a painting when she got home. Before any of those thoughts could be realized, however, the seat beneath her suddenly lurched, and she was flung into the window. Just as she recovered from that, then she suddenly found herself submerged in water. Thankfully, even though it had been years since the last time she'd been swimming, her instincts kicked back in, and she was able to find the surface.

By the time she surfaced, however, she barely knew up from down, let alone where the ship was. After some frantic searching, she at least found a shore within swimming distance. There was a current and, oddly enough, it was actually pulling her towards land. She was grateful for the time being, though she had to fight to keep it from pulling her under.

Once Faye made the beach, she took a moment or two to breathe, before looking around to examine her surroundings. She could see the beginnings of a jungle a ways up the beach, a jungle which grew too thick to see through. The shore to her left extended as far as she could see, though to her right she saw that it was beginning to curve away. So, if this was an island, it seemed to be at least decently sized.

Along the beach, she could see a few pieces of luggage washed up, which led her to believe that if there were other survivors, they would also likely be nearby. She got up and started walking slowly in that direction, until she noticed a couple of other forms - humanoid forms. She dashed over to the closest and called out, "Hello? Are you all right?" Faye was no medic, but she'd learned CPR a long time ago, and would have to hope that that was all that she would need.

Pittersticks had patched himself into the cruises ship’s security cameras, so he could monitor what was going on aboard ship. He saw chandeliers shaking on his screen. Was someone else causing mischief on this ship? That was his job! Then he noticed the pitching. This was not good. He saw some movement at Mr. Water’s door. He watched with relish Mr. Water’s horror at the picture on the wall. Unfortunately, he could not enjoy the show any longer because the floor fell out from underneath him. Pittersticks did not like the water but that did not mean that he panicked. He swam to the surface looked around and swam to the nearby beach. Once he reached the shore he ran up the beach and scurried up a coconut tree. Then, he settled into watch the action below. “Rats,” he muttered, “I lost my binoculars in the crash.”
Twig’s was lounging by the pool with a book. She had already been swimming and was drying off a little in the sun. Suddenly, the boat pitched. “What in the world?” she muttered. Quickly, she packed up her swim bag and slipped the strap over her head and nestled the bag at her side. Twig’s slipped into her flip-flops and made her way to the railing to see if she could figure out what was going on. The ship pitched again flinging her into the railing. Before she could regain her footing, the pitching of ship caused some of the water from pools to splash out on top of Twig’s. Either the railing fell away from under her or the swimming pool water swept her off the ship because she found herself in the ocean. She fought her way to the surface and half swam, half was washed up on a sandy beach. She crawled a little farther up and collapsed on the beach, coughing and trying to catch her breath.
Twig's was still laying on the beach when she heard Faye call out. Struggling up to sitting position she said, “I think I'm okay. Just shaken and bruised.”

The Baxter family was thoroughly enjoying their cruise experience. Not only was it a long overdue vacation, but it was full of new experiences. In addition to the buffet - which lived up to its advance billing - there were a variety of ethnic and five-star restaurants that Dan and Angie had already tried.

The ship also had a number of high-end shops that Angie had visited, and the couple had renewed some friendships and acquaintances from the previous year's Christmas party. They'd had lunch one day with Faye Brixton and on another they ran into Mel.

They hadn't seen much of Mssrs. Waters or Gladstone, but then again, it was a big ship.

Grace probably would have been content to spend the whole trip in one or another of the ship's eighteen swimming pools, especially if Kaelin was around to swim with. One day she told her parents that she'd seen a squirrel running around causing mischief. Normally they might have found that hard to believe, but after all they knew a talking dog, so certainly anything was possible.

It happened shortly after they'd left the buffet, Dan thinking to himself that he'd over-eaten, once again, and that a diet might be in order when they returned home. Grace was talking nonstop about swimming once again and hoping Kaelin was there.

The ship began pitching violently. Grace screamed and grabbed on to the nearest handrail.

Dan's first thought was for his wife and daughter as the deck vanished below him and he was plunged into dark, cold water. Glad we're all good swimmers, he thought, but I can't see a thing in this, or even know which way is up.

He fought the waves for what seemed like eternity but was probably only minutes, until he felt sand under his feet. He crawled onto a sandy shore and was content to sit until his strength came back. He scanned around, surveying the beach, looking for his family and other survivors among the luggage and other items washing up on the shore.

He heard a woman call out and decided to start there. As luck would have it, he wasn't far from where Faye had come ashore, and as he arrived he saw her tending to Twig's.

"Hi," he began. "Are you all right? Have you seen anyone else?"

"Daddy!" came a shout from farther up the shore. He was relieved to see Grace running as best she could in the sand; she seemed uninjured.

But where was Angie?

Xandria walked stiffly down the beach, and over toward the voices she heard. They belonged to two women and a gentleman she had not previously met, but, judging by their state of overall wetness and checking-on-each-other-ness, she assumed they too had been on the cruise.

"Hello?" Xandria called, pulling her hoodie as far over her bum and legs as she could. "Do any of you happen to have any spare clothes? It seems my pants got--ah--lost during our unexpected swim."

~~

Maeve and Kaelin's cabin happened to be farther away from the center of the capsize, so they had a little bit more time to work through things. Ever tactical, Maeve made sure they both dove as far away from the ship as possible, then towed Kaelin until she was sure they were no longer at risk of being pulled under by the ship's decent. After that, she made Kaelin swim on her own, reasoning that if the waters turned rough, she would much rather have her own strength and an exhausted Kaelin, than be exhausted herself, with a strong Kaelin. The sisters made fairly good time through the water, stopping now and then to float and rest. It was during one such float that Kaelin noticed the water seemed to be bringing them toward land, so the two agreed to float for the time being, and see just exactly how close the current would bring them.

"Okay, good to hear." Faye quickly glanced over Twig's and didn't see any obvious injury or bleeding, and since her medical knowledge basically stopped at CPR and the most obvious signs of a concussion, she decided to press no further.

Short after, Dan Baxter came up and asked if they'd seen anyone else. Just as she was about to answer negatively, a fourth person - a young woman Faye didn't recognize, but suspected she'd seen on the ship - approached and asked about a pair of pants. Busy, busy.

She turned to Dan and quickly said, "We're all the people I've seen thus far, but I expect more will show up. I think there's a current that dragged us here." She glanced at the unidentified woman and added, "That includes some luggage. I haven't had a chance to look through it yet, but it seems everyone's okay, so...."

Faye turned to a large suitcase that had washed up nearby. It was still in decent shape - one of the latches had broken off, but apparently recently enough that it was held shut. She opened it and, of course, it was apparently a man's suitcase, and she was guessing this man was taller than the other woman. But, in lieu of anything else, she found a pair with belt loops. No belt, of course, but they could make something work.

She handed them off to the woman, doing her best to keep her eyes up without making too much eye contact awkward. She thought it best not to ask for her name just yet - she'd wait until after she'd had a chance to get dressed. Until then, it would just feel intrusive.

Once she'd handed them off, she turned back to the others and said, "If we're all all right, we should start coordinating a search for the others. I'll admit, I never got a good count of how many people were on board, but certainly more than are here. I'm hesitant to split up since we have no way of coming back together, though if anyone has a reliable way of finding our way back at a synchronized time, I'm all ears. Otherwise, I vote we pick a direction and all head that way together, trying to find anyone we can, and spreading out no farther than hearing distance. Any objections?"

Mel was sunbathing (napping, actually, but with an enormous pair of complimentary sunglasses who could tell?) on an upper deck when the Titan IC gave a shuddering lurch and spilled her off the deck chair. Cushions and other loose items came flying across the deck as the ship pitched to one side and then another.

Dazed and bruised, Mel yelped in alarm as she was flipped over the railing by the wallowing ship. It was a long, long way down to the ocean below, and the mass of a St. Bernard--even one who had been making extra trips through the buffet line--meant she hit the water hard.

Mel didn't remember sinking beneath the surface, or how she found herself doing the doggy-paddle toward the shore, but she was waterlogged, exhausted (so long, buffet line), and longing for sand between her paws.

"Dog overboard," she grumbled. "Latest technology--shouldn't there have been stabilizers to prevent that sort of accident? And where did the ship go?"

"Thanks," Xandria said, hurriedly pulling the pants on. She thought for a moment, then pulled the drawstring out of her hoodie and looped it through the pants.

"Um, if we're searching, maybe someone should like, I don't know, mark where we're coming from? So we can like get back to the same place?"

Twig's scrambled to her feet as Dan approached. She was brushing sand off of her swims shirt and swim skirt or was it a skort? When the woman came up in search of pants. After the woman was fully clothed, Twig's said, “I think we should stay together. It seems that characters in hooks often make the mistake of splitting up. We could drag some of the luggage up and make a pile as a marker? And does anyone know how many hours of daylight we have left? I think we should be back here and hopefully have a fire lit by then.