[h2] Do bop she doo [/h2]
[h3]Greenleaf docks, late late late night day three [/h3]
[table]
[row][cell][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281577][img] https://i.imgur.com/1CPW58D.png [/img][/url] [/cell]
[cell] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281574][img] https://i.imgur.com/T64wNiT.png [/img][/url] [/cell]
[cell] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5281589][img] https://i.imgur.com/66r372Q.png [/img][/url] [/cell] [/row][/table]

Cyd gingerly checked on the boys, who were both still sound asleep with little interest in rousing.   They both groaned and protested, Mathias covering his head with Isaac’s pillow, Isaac covering his head with... Cyd briefly wondered where THAT came from. Kari, maybe? She shook her head. It definitely wasn't hers. Days and nights sometimes got a little jumbled when you’re hoog op. She managed to get some downtime sleep in after a brief exchange with the pilot and a quick cup of coffee to take the edge off. Now, hours later, sleep once again wanted to stay just out of reach, and Cyd briefly wondered how the pilot was holding up... How the pilot's pop was holding up. That had to be a shock. She hummed a few bars of Still Alive. Music. That's what was missing, She scrolled, looking for something appropriate for exploration. 

The ship was quiet. “Toooo quiet,”  Cyd whispered to herself, followed by a short, mischievous giggle that echoed in the cargo bay. She’d seen one or two other passengers milling around, but the entire crew had been gone unless you counted SAMANTHA.  Cyd slid the length of the railing, before spinning on her toes, mulling over the benefits of being left on a ship nearly alone.  Lookie, lookie. Big old empty ship at large. Lekker. Calf muscles be damned. 

[hider=HIT IT!] [youtube] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmT5HF8-kgA [/youtube][/hider]

Thinking about it, Cyd did, in fact, count Sam, not really as a crew member, but more as a digital watchdog. All zeroes and ones, and bright, beautiful code begging to be looked at, but the next-hop should provide a bit of keyboard tap-tap time. [i][color=fff200]Corridors and hallways![/color] [/i]The rest of the crew were out and about. Pen, she knew, was visiting her father and explaining she wasn’t dead, which could take hours or minutes, depending on his reaction. [i][color=fff200]Ladders and hatches![/color][/i]  The rest of them, she’d heard had gone out to a kitsch bar, some treehouse tourist trap. Normally it would be the sort of thing she’d have pressed for. Pirate’s Cove, the Jungle Cruise tour, kitsch made the best photo ops.  [i][color=fff200]Bins and Boxes![/color] [/i] But, Greenleaf photos had already been taken and sent, they were present and accounted for, so there wasn’t a real [i] need [/i] for more, and the boys did need a little rest and recovery.  Isaac was still banged up with snake hickies, riding the crash of his party favors,  and Mathias’ gashed and bandaged hand wasn’t ideal for making bunny ears in photos. [i] [color=fff200]Catwalks and stairwells![/color][/i] 

She scowled when the cortex rang out with a new message, cursing Isaac and his willingness to give out [i]her[/i] number for waves until she saw the sender and subject line. It was enough to take the wind from her sails, and reluctantly she hopped down from the galley table to scroll the rest of the wave. Her shoulders dropped and she let out a puff of air, switching off the music in her headphones. “I know, I know.” Cyd said to no one in particular, filling a glass half full with water to take back to the shuttle. The sun would be coming up soon anyway. People were due to get back. She looked forward to seeing how everything went with the pilot and her papa, but that too would have to wait. 

It was time to wake up the boys. “We got work to do.”