Making Fun of Seasick Girls

This wheelhouse is the hub of activity for the ship. Captain or crew steers the ship from here, the beautiful wooden wheel set inside a room that's made of glass all around to aide in visibility, and varnished wood on the lower inside. Because this room has a door that's tightly closeable, the room has a wooden deck.
Gliding above is a bronze firelizard.
You notice Hyotan and Dalaynia asleep here.
Rozalija, Iasri, and Issri are here.
Obvious exits:
Aft Fore

Iasri had been leaning against the boat's railing for what has felt like hours today, head hanging over the edge, eyes closed, face taking the salty spray of the water. Her life is still completely miserable, and she might even look a bit gaunt lately, from not being able to keep anything down… at least once a day. Even though they'd been on this boat a while, she still felt gross. No sea legs for this girl. From time to time, she tries to stand up straight, but continues to lean forward, moaning and cursing to herself.

Rozalija was wobbling her way towards the back of the ship from the foredeck, moving in a zig-zag pattern as she was inclined to do. Her arms were full: a bucket, a large book and some charcoal to write or sketch clutched in her hands. As she comes closer, her sniffling can be heard and her eyes a bit puffy and red. She catches Iasri near the side, already sagging in that direction with a little whimper. "'Lo," is her quiet greeting before she bumps against the railing, bucket and all.

Vostarik has, much like many of the other apprentices, been looking green about the gills ever since they set foot on the ship - but unlike them, he seems to have been able to hang on to the contents of his stomach by sheer force of will alone. No one's watching Vos puke! He ambles down from the aft deck, his mask of bravado (aka his Not Throwing Up face) snapping into place as soon as he sees that he's not alone. "Good grief. What an abominable waste of food you two are," he observes, arms crossing as he comes to a halt.

Iasri has tried to impliment this new plan ever since her last confrontation with Vos. You know, the one where he orderd her around because he was a Senior Apprentice? Yeah, it's called the "Pretend The Cute but Stupid Boy is Not There" plan. Automatically, she leans her body away from his direction, turning her head towards Roza with a sympathetic look. "Hey.. oh, you okay?" Vos's snarkiness is ignored. At least at first. She's scowling already if you hadn't noticed.

Rozalija slumps against the railing but doesn't slide down to the ground just yet. Her legs were trying to keep her upright. She sniffs once and glances towards Vostarik's approach, who only makes her wince and look down to the ground. "S-s-sorry," she manages weakly. Iasri actually makes her glances up for a moment, a slight nod of her head going to her. "As… as good as I can be. C-can't read, can't sketch, can't eat…" She lets out another low whimper, ducking her head towards the bucket. "Sorry."

"Ugh. Don't throw up on me." Vostarik is wary. That's why he's not getting closer. "Why can't /you/ be sorry?" he says accusingly to Iasri, jerking his head at Rozalija. "She's sorry. Good apprentice. Two points for you," he adds toward Roza, giving her an approving nod.

Iasri 's hands curl around the railings, and she squares her shoulders defensively. In most cases, she'd have swung around and gotten in the boy's face, but she doesn't. In fact, she says nothing, turning to give Roza a skeptical raise of her eyebrow. "Why do you need to be sorry? It's not your fault most of us are used to riding a runner and not a boat." She turns and spits into the water, trying her best not to upchuck herself. She continues to pretend Vos doesn't exist. Take that, mr ego man.

Rozalija turns red around the cheeks at Vostarik's words, and she turns her red-rimmed amber eyes towards Iasri again. "S-sorry," she squeaks out towards her, as if getting 'points' over the other made her feel bad. But she turns green, and spins in the direction of the sea and leans down. Nothing happens though, except for her taking a few deep breaths. "B-but… I grew up around s-ships. You'd think I'd be good." She sniffs again, falling back on her heels. "It… hasn't gotten even the slightest better."

"Oh, that's gross," Vostarik comments on Iasri spitting into the waves. "Poor fish." When in doubt, criticize! He turns to Rozalija, instead, since she seems to be more amenable to him. (/Everyone/ is more amenable to him than Iasri.) "Have you lot been throwing up the /entire time/?"

"Some people aren't meant for the sea. You know?" She finishes her sentence with a small groan, pressing herself even harder against the railing, dipping her head down even farther out to sea. She was told that the smell of sea salt was suppose to help with the upset stomach, but it really wasn't doing much in her opinion. "My ma' grew up loving to raise kids. Doesn't mean I want any. Where we come from doesn't dictate what we're good at, ya know." Wise words coming from sage Iasri. A scornful look is sent Vos's way, as she spits again.

Rozalija glances towards the water, distracted, though that was starting to make her sway uneasily. "I… I bet the fish like it…" But then she's gagging over the railing, dry heaving. When she falls back onto her feet, she's blushing fiercely and looking away from both of them. "Sorry," she mumbles out again, sniffling in embarrassment. "I know that," she says to Iasri, trying to actually look up and focus on the horizon. "But… but you'd think it's s-something you can learn not to be. Sick…"

Vostarik takes a quick step back as Roza starts heaving over the rail again. Better to avoid spatter than to have to clean it off his shoes. "Ugh. Oh, ew. Why're you even carrying a bucket if you're just gonna throw up over the side?" he demands, leaning back against the bulkhead. "Where we come from don't dictate everything we do, but it dictates a lot of it. I bet if you stopped hanging around Iasri all the time you'd feel better," he announces. "/I/ would."

Iasri sends a seething look Vos's direction, scooting over to Roza's side and extending a hand to pat her back sympatheticly. It's keeping her mind off punching that boy in the face. "Yeah, well, I have to deal with that idiot," a thumb towards Vos, "all the time. He /follows/ me everywhere. You'd think by now I would have gotten used to his ugly face. But I haven't. It still gives me nightmares." Pat. Pat. She turns to glare at Vostarik again one more time, snapping finally. "Well, then leave." Mleh!

Rozalija drops the bucket from her arm now that she remembers it. It was empty, and soon enough her big book and charcoal follows with a dull thud inside it. "For… for before. When I was sitting," she explains to Vostarik, still blushing furiously. She gives Iasri a thankful smile though, as she looks back out. She wasn't looking quite so green but just pallid in general (besides the blush that was leaving her). There's a soft giggle at the younger girl's comment as she follows her thumb to glance at Vos. "I guess so."

Vostarik shoots scathing glare right back at Iasri. "We're on a /boat/, dimglow. If there was anywhere /besides/ where you are, I'd be there. Believe me." Huff. He straightens up, looking miffed. Leave? "Fine!" Huff. "Next time you're feeling nauseous, throw up on her," he advises Roza, before stalking toward the foredeck.

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