Ashley rose to the task of sailing like a champ—and that's what Ted's crew took to calling her when she was out of earshot: "little champ." Immediately making herself available as an additional hand on deck, she listened to everything Kavius had to say about seafaring with rapt attention, and it quickly became clear that she wasn't afraid to work up a sweat. When she wasn't working, it seemed like she was always thinking about something; mostly, she seemed to be thinking about ways to contribute.

[color=#ff39d6]"Would a hammock alleviate her motion sickness at all?"[/color] she'd eventually ask Kavius, considering Sam. [color=#ff39d6]"Might I bother you to spar with me? The way you move around on deck seems so natural—if I can't match your dexterity, I'll be a liability if we're boarded."[/color]

[color=#ff39d6]"I remember you said you were a healer, but are you comfortable defending yourself?"[/color] she'd later ask Aleria privately. [color=#ff39d6]"I'm not much of a healer, but I have supervised medical in mass casualty events before. We may be walking into one, so please, don't hesitate to ask me anything."[/color]

Ashley watched Nitonka try to learn magic with mild interest. [color=#ff39d6][i]If she's hoping that learning magic will give her an edge against me, she's wasting her time,[/i][/color] she thought smugly at first. As Nitonka made progress, though, Ashley's opinion of the boisterous woman improved a lot, and she eventually began giving pointers herself. As a lady knight, she felt something of an obligation to halfheartedly protest Nitonka's crass way of speaking whenever Aleria was present, but she otherwise didn't seem to care much.

With introductions out of the way, it seemed as if Ashley was no longer interested in talking about herself; it was as if she'd already covered just about every piece of information she was willing to share, and had abruptly become utterly withdrawn and unsociable outside of anything that involved the task at hand. In fact, she even removed the arm band that she had been wholeheartedly showing off before. [color=#ff39d6]"It's poor manners to wear one's rank while off-duty,"[/color] she claimed. The most anyone was able to pry out of her after that was that she was 28 and had no children, siblings or extended family "worth talking about." When asked about "Auntie," she would say only that she was "just a live-in attendant."

When it came to curses, however, she could talk an ear off, as Xara would find out. [color=#ff39d6]"It's a misnomer to say that a curse has been 'broken.' Truly destroying a well-designed curse like that would take mythical amounts of magic power that almost no human could handle. It's truly easier to reverse-engineer it, make the necessary changes to reverse its original effects, then re-activate it. It often takes multiple days and is ninety percent boring work—studying the runes, writing them down, double checking, triple checking—you can't afford to make mistakes when it comes to curses. Any cursemaker who's good at the craft will design a curse to be passed on to anyone who tries to mess with it. From the moment you first touch anything, you have about sixty seconds before that happens. That's the exciting part of the job. Sixty seconds of pure adrenaline, and hopefully hours of basking in dopamine for a job well done. There's no feeling like it on this earth."[/color]

She stuck to Mikhail like glue throughout the whole journey. Much to his relief, she relented on the teasing, but whether she did so out of consideration for his dignity or because she was simply too busy thinking about more important matters to find the time for it, one could only guess. Strangely, though, she didn't even look at him most of the time. She just followed him around as though she were his own shadow, hovering around him like a buzzard around a carcass, while keeping her eyes on everyone else but him. Though her behavior was unsettling, her reasons for doing so were not nearly so nefarious. Out of everyone on the ship, Mikhail was the only one she completely trusted as of now—he was her anchor—though she suspected the feeling was not mutual, and thus, never said so openly.

When Mikhail was not available, she buddied up with Aleria. [color=#ff39d6]"It feels safer with two of us here, doesn't it?"[/color] she'd remarked once, when it was just the two of them. She seemed a bit more open around her than everyone else, and a bit more considerate of her, too. Of course, it wasn't as though she was completely inconsiderate of everyone but Aleria and Mikhail—she'd spent a good half an hour on the hammock idea for Sam after all—falling over more than twice as she did, while the ship tossed and turned. But with Aleria, who she immediately took to calling by the nickname "Sister," Ashley was just noticeably friendlier, in a "I've just decided that we're going to be best friends" kind of way.

For the first day, first night, and second day of the trip, Ashley seemed invincible. She worked nearly constantly, taking only short breaks, and didn't even sleep the first night, as she was used to working for about 36 hours—sustained on coffee—then sleeping for about 12. By the second night, though, the withdrawal was becoming truly wretched. Her head ached like no part of her body had ever ached before, and not from lack of coffee, but rather, lack of [i]good[/i] coffee. Trying to delicately boil a pot of coffee just right while the ship tossed and turned, using cheap equipment and cheap coffee grounds, was like trying to wash women's delicates using a waterfall of runoff from a cattle farm. She attempted to help during the second stormy night, but despite the chaos she somehow managed to pass out while standing up and would have fallen overboard if Mikhail and one of Ted's crew hadn't caught her. At least, she thought the other guy was one of Ted's crew, but for some reason, someone called him Xaru. Wait, wasn't his name Xara, not Xaru? Ashley couldn't be bothered to think anymore. She only caught a few choice words out of the choice words Mikhail had for her after that as she stumbled her way below decks and collapsed into her bunk, exhausted.

Now, after almost an entire day of lying in bed with a killer headache, micro-sleeping betwixt the ocean's waves and idle thoughts about dulling the pain with mushrooms—and a night full of sleep so deep it might have been mistaken for death—Ashley rose from her "coffin locker" with only two things on her mind. First, she needed coffee. Not just any coffee would do—she wanted the strongest, blackest coffee Santorini had to offer. Second, she wasn't about to drink it in some tourist trap, surrounded by chatty locals with thick accents, thick heads, and thick... well, anyway, she didn't want to be harassed by these women. She wanted room service. Coffee, and a damned [i]bath[/i].

Ashley shuffles out of bed, forgets to bring along either of her "escorts," and in no time at all is surrounded by giggling local girls looking for a dull-eyed mark—and though Ashley was just about the furthest thing from it, Ashley fit the physical description perfectly. She was short, which theoretically made her easier to isolate from the crowd and pressure into something, her fancy clothes set her apart as someone with money to spend, and most of all, Ashley just [i]looked[/i] like a guy who was desperately in need of a good time. [color=#ff39d6][i]I'm a woman, though...[/i][/color] she thought irritably.

"Come on! You'll [i]love[/i] the hot springs! All your stress will just melt away~" the tallest girl coos suggestively, leaning in toward Ashley.

[color=#ff39d6]"I'm not interested,"[/color] Ashley says flatly. Unable to find a girl her own height to look at instead, she just closes her eyes stubbornly.

"Aw, are you shy? Don't be! You're so handsome~" another girl says sweetly, stroking Ashley's hair. "Broody boys like you are popular, y'know?"

[color=#ff39d6]"Communal bathing is out of the question for me. Just tell me where I can find a hotel,"[/color] Ashley barks, frustrated.

"Ooh! I do [i]love[/i] a man who knows what he wants!" she says as she covers her non-existent blush, while the other girls giggle even more.

[color=#ff39d6]"Oi, you! That's not what I—unhand me!"[/color] Ashley twists her arm, trying to slip free of the girl's grasp—but her vice-like grip doesn't give. Ashley was astonished. She'd been forcefully grabbed by the hand many times, but never like this. [color=#ff39d6][i]Yeah, no crime my ass! These prices are criminal, and so are these girls! Isn't this a kidnapping?![/i][/color]