[h2]Things To Be Treasured[/h2] [img]https://i.imgur.com/0lsxOcd.jpg[/img] JP/collab from [@Aalakrys] and [@sail3695] Gorram difficult takin’ a shower ‘thout gettin’ yer [i]pi gu[/i] all wet. Abby finally give in an’ jest washed her hair under them jets. Rest of her got scrubbed outta the lav sink. Doc’s morning round ‘o’ pills was takin’ hold. Soreness never went away, but long’s she took her time an’ shied off any acrobatics she’s able tah git about. She’d pulled out a pair ‘o’ denim cutoffs fer the day. Short as they was, she didn’t wear ‘em much beyond layin’ about her room. But today she could smell tha ocean, an’ feel a warm sun on her skin. Wouldn’t hurt her legs tah git a little color. Arms neither, fer that matter. Abby knew jest tha tee shirt fer tha job. It was a nice pink she’d cut the sleeves off. Message always tickled her. [b]CLAUDIA’S SALOON[/b] [b][i]...in beautiful Broken Compass[/i][/b] [b]”Cheap liquor...mind the snakes”[/b] She ain’t never been to Broken Compass. Heard it’s on Deadwood, though. After brushin’ her teeth an’ puttin’ her hair back in a ponytail, she set herself up front ‘o’ the cargo bay ramp. Lawn chair she’s sittin’ in was aided by the pillow a might, and after some adjustin’ she’s tolerable comfy. Abby stretched her legs, bare feet nuzzlin’ the sandy soil underneath. [i]Let’s make some coin,[/i] she thought as the clipboard come open. After carefully tucking the large shell inside her satchel and climbing up the ladder out of her room, Penelope made a stop by the crew bath to tidy herself and the gift up a little. She pulled her damp hair into a messy bun atop her head, the orange strip making it seem like a swirled iced cream treat, and then redressed. The smell of the ocean as well as the salt spray was gone from her skin, but it'd likely be back later on. After visiting Abby, she had plans to check with the captain about going a little further out so long as no one needed her. But first, Abby - who she found parked back in the lawn chair she'd seen her in only a few days and bullet wound previous. The little pillow made it look comfier, but Penelope doubted it was - bullet wound and all. As she walked down towards the open dock bay door, the wind was a fair bit gentler than it had been yesterday. Her loose clothing rippled gently against her sunkissed skin. If she weren't a forester bound to the stars, the beach would certainly have her soul. "Mornin', Abbs." Unlike the captain, the melodious nature of Penelope's call as she rounded the lawn chair was less intended to playfully vex. She was just a cheerful disposition sort, and she bet the folks already knew it on account of her smile, which was present here. A tuck of a renegade strand that had broke free, the other hand rested over the flap of her satchel. "See you're feelin' good enough to come sit out in the sun and court potential passengers." Abby looked up from the clipboard she’s studyin’. “Mornin’, Pen,” she smiled. “Tween you’n me, I conjure the Cap’n just don’t want me underfoot, shufflin’ about like an old gramma.” She’d never really thought on what folk called ‘er afore. Uncle Bob raised her as ‘Abby.’ But last few days, hearin’ the Cap’n usin’ her proper name an’ Pen callin’ her by ‘Abbs,’ the girl conjured she’s likin’ the difference. Even Rex callin’ her ‘Cal Junior’ brought a private snicker. "So,” she set her task aside, “d’ja have fun last night?” If Penelope weren’t already smiling, the question would’ve done it - followed by the image of Cal unsuccessfully trying to get Abby to sit down any other way and take it easy. The girl was certainly a hard worker, and then asking after the beachcombing… was almost enough to make the pilot feel as if she should be doing more around the ship. But, if she had been, then she wouldn’t have what lay in her bag, would she? “I might have had a little success in what I was aimin’ to do. Speakin’ of...” She gave a wink as she slipped her hand under the flap and flipped it over in one easy flick of her wrist. Since her palms weren’t covered with the customary fingerless gloves, it was easy for Penelope to feel for purchase on the curves of the hard shell. Still, she was careful and looked down to see what she was doing as she withdrew the large seashell. “One special order - hand-picked by yours truly and delivered as promised.” Penelope’s fingers had curled inside the shell’s opening, and she held it out thus so Abby could see the ridges and wave-like curls of the Miyoko Murax. “I ain’t seen one of these before, but thought it looked most like the ocean formed it from the way it patterned. Best way to bring the beach to you.” Abby’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a sea shell?” She took it into her palms, holdin’ gentle as she turned it. “I swear it’s like...a blossom,” her fingers trailed the rippled edge. “Or a sculpture.” She set fingertips glidin’ the ridges as colors shifted...orange...pink...white...all radiatin’ out from the pearl smooth hole where a little creature done called home. “It’s...so...beautiful,” Abby breathed. She’s lookin’ on it...followin’ where it took her...colors an’ lines shootin’ out in all directions like a star burst. Her hands wanted...chalk. She had tah git chalk. “Pen,” Abby finally tore her eyes from that glorious sight, “this is..I’m...thank yew.” Abby moved to get up, til she’s reminded of her hurt. Just the same, she put an arm up tah give Pen a hug. “Thank yew,” she said agin. “Thank yew.” Penelope gave her gentle laugh as she leaned down to accommodate the hug offered as thanks. It was clear Abby saw the beauty in it same as her, and that was a wonderful thing to share. “Reckon you like it a little bit, then.” When they broke from the embrace, Penelope was grinning. “I’ll have’ta show you the rest of my collection later on. Got all sorts, but liked this one best for you.” “Oh, I love it!” Abby burst out. “Ever’ way yah turn it, it’s jest...” She laughed, shook her head. “Hard tah take my eyes off it. It’s like yah found treasure...jewels what nobody seen afore. Now I’m goin’ off at tha mouth,” the girl’s smile wouldn’t quit. “An’ yes, I’d like tah see what else yah found.” Penelope always thought smiles were contagious, and that’s why they came so easily to her - she liked seeing other folks wearing one. Abby’s face all lit up was well worth the sore legs hunting it down had given her. It hadn’t bothered her one bit to see the girl gush. Was a mighty pretty shell worth the praise. A fist against her hip, she nodded as if it were settled. “Wouldn’t want to distract ya from all this work and get the ire of the cap’n down on us, but if you’ll be here a spell then I can get ‘em cleaned up all pretty and come show ya.” “Ain’t no hurry. I’ma be here,” the deckhand nodded. “Cap’n wants passengers fer Greenleaf. Wanna git him two at the least...hopeful they’ll be a few more.” Mayhaps it was because she was in an amicable sort of situation with Abby, and mayhaps it was because she hadn’t been expecting it, but at the mention of their next intended destination Penelope’s entire being froze for a brief moment. She blinked and it was over, though, passing just as quickly as it had struck her. The warmth returned to her eyes, that honeyed hazel free of the startle they held just a breath before. [i]Home[/i]. “Greenleaf, huh?” She said as she rocked back on a heel as she bounced the point of her other foot’s toe against the ramp. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find folk that want to go there even though it’s mostly wild jungle. Big Alliance city takes up a large chunk - shiny tech takes some fancy engineers, so don’t let any potential passengers try to short-change ya if they ain’t wearin’ light and loose clothes like mine.” Locals didn’t get too posh, even with the Alliance trying to make ‘em complacent about a quarter of their forest-covered planet getting raized by showcasing the best and new fashions and qualities of life. The allure of the city didn’t call most the natives like the Purps had hoped, so most of the population had come from off-world. Penelope’s parents had been natives, but they’d been part of those that got all-but forced into coming to the city by other underhanded means. It weren’t like they were uncivilized, the natives. Just didn’t quite meet the bar the Alliance set to qualify for civilized. “Foresters might try to trade you goods though. Tell ‘em you’re full up, that your pilot is a barefoot, and she’ll trade if’n they’re keen but they gotta pay regular rate.” Saying that brought out her full grin again, but not entirely for reasons she said aloud. Pilots like her got the best deals in barefoot trades, beings they went all over. Abby listened. [i]“Ain’t no better teacher than a native,”[/i] Aunt Lupe used to say. “Barefoot,” she answered. “Foresters. If we git one try’na deal such, I’ll come askin’. Meantime,” the girl give a pat to the clipboard on her lap, “I’m stickin’ tah the rates. Already made one foul up gonna run us tight. Cap’n shoulda fired me outright, but he didn’t. Ain’t plannin’ no repeats.” "Seems like Cap'n'll allow a little strayin' from the straight-and-narrow if'n there's reason." Pen figured aloud idly, especially given their last conversation topics. "So reckon since you're still sittin' here, he understood. Wouldn't go worryin' after it too much, Abbs." She offered a comforting pat on the arm along with her gentle smile before nodding down at the shell. "Want me to tuck this beaut away somewhere till you're off the clock?" Abby moved the shell in her hands, turnin’ it to an’ fro to catch the light different. “Think I’d like tah look at it s’more,” she lifted her eyes toward Pen. “Mayhaps this don’t make no sense, but it...sorta takes me somewheres.” “Makes sense a’plenty.” Pen’s grin hadn’t faded as she sighed with effect of hanging her head backwards and looking upwards at the sky. Well, the roof of the cargo ramp, but it was more or less not what she was looking [i]at[/i] specifically. When her head came to a moment later, she looked back down at the girl in the lawnchair. “It’ll keep ya in the chair, I hope. Let them fellas pull their weight for once and load up any thing needs loadin’, yeah?” It wasn’t that the pilot thought anyone didn’t pull their weight, but rather that Abby didn’t seem like the sort to know how to rest without it worryin’ on her. So, she teased, all obvious and light-hearted. “Cap’n says stay right here,” the girl piped up, “so right here I’ll stay. Try’na get some sun on these space white legs, anyway,” she give a chuckle. “Hey Pen,” thought struck her as the pilot was turnin’, “think we can talk sometime ‘bout Greenleaf? Ain’t never seen beyond the port afore. I’d like tah learn ‘bout the jungle from someone who’s been.” Glad to hear that Abby would certainly be sticking to the chair, Penelope had almost given a comment on how she might not want to go too long in the sun or she’d burn without a good base-coat, but the question caught her off-guard. Greenleaf again, but thankfully it wasn’t what she’d been thinkin’ - and that got Abby a double-edged soft laugh. Maybe triple? Surprised, circumstantial, [i]and[/i] thankful. Yeah, triple. “Shaw, we can talk about it.” She said with the merriment still carrying in her tone, then she shook it away and explained. “But I’ve more than been - grew up there. How about I get my treasures cleaned up, then I can come set up with ya while I work on my trades? Show ya what else I got and spin some tales about the forest proper.” The deckhand give a nod. “Sounds fine,” she smiled agin. “Got an errand tah run later on, if’n the Doc says I can go. I’ll letcha know when I git back.” She give a half wave as Pen smiled an’ turned. “An’ thank yew agin’,” Abby called as tha “barefoot from Greenleaf” made her way up tha ramp. She thought on the shell once agin. Sun was warmin’ up; she’d as like need tah cover her legs soon tah keep from burnin’, like Pen said. But fer now, she pondered, [i]”feels too nice tah head in.”[/i]