[color=FFE700][i] As the residents of the ship make their way through the corridors belowdecks, they might catch hints and barest murmurs of this frankly embarrassing rehearsal. The singer in question would almost certainly eviscerate (or severely prank) any individual whom he happened to realize was standing directly outside his door eavesdropping, where the sound could carry and be heard much more clearly through the thin wood of the walled partitions to each cabin. The singer would also be doubly embarrassed by the straining in his voice, still hoarse from a night's worth of vomiting and quite hesitant to be fully stretched out or properly worked, and the absence of any accompaniment. His gods-damned lute had misplaced itself yet again, but the stir to sing something had moved the singer to hide away in his cabin, half hoping against hope the the lapping of waves, crowing of gulls, and creaking of the ship itself would mask his personal failures and ideally the entire performance itself, private in nature, from anybody's inquisitive ears... [/i][/color]

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