Land, Ho!

F

Firr Marie

Active Member
Messages
44
OOC First Name
Tenilee
Sexual Orientation
Heterosexual
Age
5/2004
It looked like a darling place to weigh anchor, Firr decided. All these sweet little shops scattered around the beach with a cobbled path leading up to the old wooden harbour. There was no chance in Hogwarts that she was going to pay to hook her boat up and the flame-haired sailtress settled for confunding the muggle tier master instead of paying. It would have been thrilling to risk a stand off with the coast guard as she refused to pay the fee, but in the end she was too damn hungry to bother. It would end up being a great fight but eventually the ministry would become involved if she ended up cursing too many muggles. Places like these were not often rich but Firr supposed that there would be an abundance of food and friendly folk. There was no way to pay for said food unless you were one of those friendly folk, though. Or at least someone with a job. So tonight was revelry mixed with work. It was time to pick a pocket or two. She headed towards a lowly tavern first, where the occupants were mainly drunken and disorderly. Technically it was more dangerous if she was caught with her hand dipped into the side of a man's trousers, but at the same time the lot of them probably wouldn't be able to tell their heads from their *rses. It should be a profitable night.

Firr had a good lot of muggle money by the time she tramped out of the tavern. Her pockets were jingling quite satisfactorily. Now it was time to move on to get some real goods; wizard money. It was strange because both were equally useful but muggle money was considered inferior by wizards, and if muggles knew about the hubcap-sized galleons they'd probably scorn that, too. With the means to get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, Firr considered herself quite well off on both circumstances and considered both kinds of humans to be quite stupid. Why have one when you could have it all? Then again, when Firr couldn't be *rsed to steal, Firr went hungry. That was just the way things were. Now she approached what she knew was a wizard area, due to the muggles' eyes sliding right past it. It was getting quite late and her stomach began to protest. The barn-like restaurant she entered was warm and smelt deliciously of pumpkin pasties. Stealing from wizards was significantly harder than drunk muggles. There was a nicely dressed man standing beside the bar at the front, his face screened from her as she approached from behind. An ornate coin in her pocket grew cool as she neared; he was not using any theft-protective charms. Firr smiled and walked up with a casual gait. She slipped her hand into his back pocket...
 
New Zealand was a rather...interesting place, to put it lightly. It was rather different to Germany, in terms of climate (the first thing he had noticed), as well as culture. There were many curious folk here, which put a sly smile on Johannes Engel's face. As a psychologist, he made a habit of observing people. He'd done so ever since his days at Durmstrang. Though he was only a half-blood, he'd proven to be a valuable asset to his friends - he could pinpoint people's weaknesses easily, allowing them (particuarly Joseph) to attack those weaknesses and reduce their foes to bawling messes. Nowadays, Johannes used his psychology skills for good, trying to help people, but sometimes...sometimes...he just wanted to go back to the old days, abusing his skills for the good of himself and his friends.

Then he remembered why he kept away from Germany in the first place.

He knew he'd have to go visit Mark soon, but for now he was situated in a bar, taking it easy with a butterbeer and a pumpkin pastie - he couldn't resist, after he had smelt them. It was rare for a man like Johannes to be unable to resist something. At least it was something so material like food, which he intended to buy anyway. Johannes prided himself on his calm and collected nature. He never let anything phase him, never let himself be overcome by anything. In fact, he came across as almost icy, far too cool for his own good. Almost robotic, really. He didn't care. He didn't want to think about himself and his own problems. He just kept up the aesthetics, and focused his energy on other people.

And speaking of other people, what was that odd sensation in his back pocket? It was almost like... Johannes turned around, quite abruptly, to see what on Earth was going on. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he accused - not in an irritated fashion, but a rather coldly amused way. He always kept the same tone. It was all part of the aesthetics.
 
Spotted! Firr could have skittered like most thieves would have done, but she was quicker than that and liked to play around. 'What the bloody hell are you doing?' said the man as he turned around. Firr noticed three things within a split second of seeing his face. Firstly, that when he had spoken he had done so with a distinct German accent. Firr herself was English and was used to accents of that kind, although she had been expecting a New Zealand accent. She also happened to notice that he was incredibly, ridiculously handsome. She couldn't help but grin spontaneously at him with her tongue just poking between her lips. Her smile was infectious and often described as the cheekiest known to man; at least by those who'd known her long enough to describe it. The third thing Firr happened to notice was that she had procured his wallet after all; and she had a chance to claim it. With her hand still dug into his back pocket, Firr had been brought closer as he turned around since she'd been unwilling to relinquish her prize. He seemed to be at least a head and a bit taller than her, but the devious woman was not in the slightest bit intimidated, and it showed.

Firr gave the man's backside a hearty squeeze as if that had been her intention all along. "That's a mighty fine *rse you got there!" commented Firr. But when she withdrew her hand, the wallet came too, and then she was off. It was as if she'd dematerialised. Darting between people and giggling like a pixie, Firr raced towards the door and dived through. Only moments later she paused in the alleyway beside the restaurant and allowed herself a fit of laughter. Oh, what a good game that had been! Sure, she'd have to move on but there were plenty of places to tuck in now she had all the cash she needed. Firr flicked her fire-orange hair from her face and began pawing through the notes happily, never bothering to see if she had been followed.
 
The young woman had a ridiculously cute smile - even the cold, stony Johannes had to admit such a thing. It took an awful lot of resistance not to mirror such a cheeky grin. As it was, the corners of his lips merely twitched in to a smirk. Indeed, Johannes would have to have described the woman as cute, if not a little bit brash. Far too much of the latter for his liking. He folded his arms, trying not to let his alarm show as she squeezed his backside and made that rather rude comment. It didn't work. For once, his mask slipped and he looked rather confused and a little frightened, if he were to be honest. What the... Johannes thought, placing his hand in his back pocket to find out that his wallet had disappeared. "That little wretch..." he groaned, standing up and speeding after her, following her in to the alleyway as she was placing her grubby paws all over his cash.

"You," he began, drawing closer to her, his eyes narrowing. Nobody stole his money. And nobody broke his mask of ice. Oh, how dare she cause him to slip up? He was so comfortable being so numb and cold. Any lapses felt, to him, like failure. He may have been good at identifying other people's weaknesses and problems, but the thing was, Johannes refused to identify his own. He hid them far away in the back of his mind, and kept up the mask, focusing on others instead of himself. "Just who are you and what are you doing with my wallet, young lady? I demand you give me my property back right away."
 
Stupid persistent man, thought Firr irritably as she looked up to see her victim looking murderous while silhouetted in the streetlamp by the alleyway entrance. She was still entirely unafraid even then and had the gall to stuff his wallet into her back pocket before standing akimbo and pouting at him. "Oh, how very careless of you, sir!" Firr trilled merrily, "Such a tragedy to lose one's wallet where someone like poor little old me could pick it up and have a bit of dinner with the cash!". As she talked, she began to edge her way towards him and around, trying to sneak past his bulk in order to skip away down the street again. The handsome man seemed to be particularly peeved with her and Firr dared not get too close. How was she meant to escape without relinquishing her prize? Perhaps she could pull the charm and the waterworks on to get him to by her a meal, after all. It was worth a shot; she wasn't getting out of here with the wallet, otherwise. Worse yet, he might decide to call the aurors, then there'd be such a fight on her hands. Firr looked up at him with wide emerald green eyes, placing her hands behind her back and shuffling her feet. "Well look, you could think of it as a service. There you've done a good deed by relinquishing your money to me, who needs a bite to eat and a nice drink." she said. Her voice got softer.

"I might give it back ... but could you spare just one of those galleons for a hungry woman?" Firr's eyes began to glisten with tears, and she turned on the 'pity' full blast. It was enough to make people stagger. Suddenly she looked about sixteen years old instead of twenty-seven like she was, just begging for a scrap of food and a warm place to stay. Gotcha, thought Firr. Say no to this! She took one step closer, then another, the corners of her lips turned downwards as she stared directly into Johannes' cornflower blue's.
 
This woman was perhaps one of the most alarming women Johannes had ever seen. As much as he wanted to pinpoint her personality and weaknesses, he couldn't do it. She was just too...well, strange. He'd never seen anybody so brazen, so brash before. It would've been almost refreshing but for the fact that a) she had his wallet, and b) Johannes hated being confused and unsure. He always had to know and understand the people he came across. It was his job. He never let himself be undermined or confused by anyone. And he wasn't going to let that happen with this girl, no way.

Johannes sighed in a resigned manner. He did really want to understand this woman, for the sake of his own pride. And he did need his wallet. "Alright, alright, look. You give me my wallet back, and I'll buy you dinner." He spoke calmly, though there was a rather irritated tone in his voice. He hadn't been counting on such an inconvienience. But damn, she was good. Johannes might have actually felt bad had he refused her. She was very hard to say no to, he was finding. Dammit, who the hell is this woman and what does she think she's playing at? "You must tell me your name, miss. I do not buy dinner for complete strangers."
 
"Yay!" said Firr loudly, her tears disappearing instantly and transforming back into the jolly grin. She pranced up to the man without hesitation and slapped his wallet back into his palm. Just to make sure that he didn't do a runner, the small woman linked her arm tightly with hers and pressed them both together, not looking at all uncomfortable with the contact. She beamed up at him in a way that would make most irritable since she looked so damn pleased with getting her way; yet at the same time it was an exasperated irritability. Telling Firr to stop being the way she was was like telling the sun to stop shining to brightly. There just wasn't anything to be done about her manners (or lack thereof). Firr wheeled them both around and began a hearty skip in the direction of the restaurant again, steering him forcefully whenever she wanted to go. She gave the door a good kick to get it open and wasted no time in seating them in an open, comfortable booth with plush red seats. She'd ignored his question for the majority of the walk but suddenly burst out with "I'm Mary-Beth Watkinson! What's your name?!". By her enthusiasm it was less apparent how false the name was, but it would still sound off; such a generic name did not suit her at all.

Right on cue, Firr's stomach grumbled in time to a beat of the background music. There was no sign of her embarrassment but for the slight tightening of her lips as she glanced away from Johannes. Being poor was nothing, but being hungry was humiliating. She carried on as if it had never happened. "Perhaps you don't have a name! Oooh, that would be ever so exciting. I'd have to call you John Smith! Or tall, dark and Fine-*rsed." said Firr enthusiastically, squishing up close to him. The phrase 'personal space' had little meaning to her.
 
Johannes frowned ever so slightly as she cheered up instantaneously. Never had he met somebody like her before. She was a very strange woman, almost child-like in her demeanour. But she was clearly a grown woman, she looked to be in her twenties. And he refused to believe that Mary-Beth Watkinson was really her name. It didn't suit her at all, she was far from generic. He was sure she had a more out there name, one that seemed to suit her personality. Whatever that personality was. Johannes had never been more confused by somebody in his entire life. He was so dumbfounded, in fact, that he allowed himself to be steered about by her and led in to the seats. He was in too much of a state of shock to argue, really.

He didn't even have the heart to tell her off about invading his personal space, though he did visibly tense, his face becoming that bit paler. "Ahem. The former will do quite nicely, Miss Watkinson," he stated, allowing his disbelief to become clear. At least he could tell lies when he saw them. Mostly. He'd gotten quite good at observing people and their habits, but people could be surprising. And nobody more so than "Mary-Beth". Johannes honestly wasn't quite sure whether to go along with her or to call a mental asylum. He of all people was supposed to tell "crazies" when he saw them, but he really wasn't sure with her. "What would you like to eat? And do you make a habit of startling lonely bachelors by stealing their wallets?"
 
Firr leaned forward to place her elbow onto the table impolitely and rested her chin on her hand, staring at Johannes as if he was a monkey in a zoo doing a particularly interesting trick. As usual, her tongue was just poking out of the corner of her mouth. It made her look perpetually amused at everything she saw. She was generally amused at Johannes though. What a stiff. thought Firr, randomly giggling out loud and continuing to x-ray him with her eyes. Look at him, all dressed up in that nice suit and that 'Nothing you can say will shock me, sweety' face. Why, I doubt he's never once dacked a teacher or nipped a candy from the store. It was people like him that Firr liked to tease mercilessly until they snapped. People who lost their cool should lighten up, she would say to herself. After all, all that 'bottling things up' could never be good for your health. She giggled again as she pictured his mortified face when she'd squeezed his backside. It had been a very nice squeeze, too. Being ridiculously over the top was a good diversion, but to say that he'd had a might fine *rse was no lie. Sure he was a stiff, but he was a damn handsome stiff.

"Sooooo. John Smith is a fine name for a good upstanding citizen like yourself, but Johannes is much prettier," said Firr, pronouncing his name perfectly. With the most smug look imaginable, she withdrew an identification card from her pocket made out of stiff parchment and waved it around lazily. Even then, she was one step ahead. "'Johannes Engel'. Oh, how cute!" she bubbled. Her stomach growled again which reminded her to answer his second question. Firr swiped up the little paper menu from the middle of the table and spent a good long minute perusing the dishes as if there was simply no way she could choose. After a lot of 'um'ing and 'ahh'ing, Firr finally announced "Food." and placed it down again, looking expectantly at Johannes. In other words, 'whatever you're having'. Then, out of the blue, she removed a battered camera from her overalls pocket and waved it at him. "Can I take your picture? Thanks!". There was no way that the camera could have fit into the little-coin pocket, and was therefore probably enchanted. The camera proved to be enchanted too, of course, for without further ado she pulled Johannes into a bear hug, gave him an enormous kiss on the cheek and snapped a picture of it. The camera made a loud crack and produced a plume of green smoke, out of which slid a brand new photograph. The little photographic characters were struggling with each other, Firr trying to pin Johannes for another kiss and Johannes looking stricken and attempting to crawl away.
 
Well. She certainly wasn't brought up well, that was for sure. She seemed rather crude - though he'd already discerned that, so that was nothing new. Adorable as she may have been, she certainly wasn't particuarly ladylike. In his career, Johannes was used to desperate, depressed women. This girl was far too sunny. It seemed to be a refreshing change from the norm, but she was just too different, too alien. He didn't like that. He wanted to find a category to place her in, to sum her up neatly in a few words and pinpoint her weaknesses, so if he so chose, he could break her. Not that he was intending to do so right now, even if she was rather irritating. For now, he just wanted to have a grasp on how her mind worked.

He shook his head slowly, giving a rather bemused chuckle as she told him his real name. "Pretty? Cute? I would not call it as such, but I thank you, my nameless lady." Johannes had been his uncle's name, too. The less he thought about that, the better. "Are you intending on divulging your name to me any time soon, miss? He paused, before smirking. "Oh, by the way, I am very good at picking lies..." he began, before the woman once again astounded him by hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Once again, Johannes was speechless. Spluttering, he frantically tried to compose himself. Failing, he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead, where beads of sweat were beginning to form. Nobody sent Johannes Engel in to a panic. He never panicked. Breathing deeply, he signalled a passing waiter and ordered two burgers and two firewhiskeys. He had a feeling he was going to need the alcohol.
 
Firr was listening quite happily until the words 'my lady' came into play. For the briefest second, a flash of pure aggression raged on her features before it disappeared completely and fell right back into clueless delight. But before it did, she burst out "I am not your anything," which was all she was fit to say before the anger died. If there was one thing Firr hated, it was to pinned down, even if it was just in passing. The thing she prided herself most on was her freedom, and it was words like those that were dangerous for other people. She was no one's and she was free. The moment over, she giggled at him and shook her head, making the curls fly into Johannes' face. "My name is Firr, and don't you ask no more questions 'cause you're not getting jack from me!" she said as she tapped her nose at him. I know what you're up to and you're a cheeky bugger for even thinking it, Firr thought to herself as her eyes sparkled. Even funnier when Johannes began to show signs of losing the thread. He was so adorably panicked that she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his waist and squeeze the life out of him for a second. "Over here!" she bawled to the waiter who almost dropped their food as he was called.

The first thing Firr did was scull the entire glass of Firewhiskey in one go. Her only response to the burning sensation was "Ahh, that hit the spot!". The burger was gone in seconds and she spent the rest of the meal eying Johannes' food like a hungry dog. About halfway through, Firr removed a scrappy notepad from her pocket and a self-inking quill and began to sketch Johannes' likeness. She already had a photograph of him but he was struggling a bit when it was taken so it had come out a bit awkward. By the time he had finished, there was a tiny thumbnail image on the tabletop that was perfect in every way. Firr tilted her head to the side at him and smiled. Now that she was full she had calmed down a bit and was being slightly less pushy. "Can I show you my ship?" she asked.
 
Wait, what? Johannes was now more confused than ever. She completely objected to his smug manner of speech, but within seconds the woman - Firr - was...hugging him? Johannes thought he was beginning to lose it. Maybe he was the one who needed to be checked in to an asylum. He felt like he was going crazy, losing control of the situation, unsure of what to think of this woman. He was nervous, hesitant. He couldn't make heads or tails of this girl and it infuriated him beyond belief. Worse, she seemed to have him pinned down. How the tides were turning! Johannes could barely stand it. Mopping at his brow, he nearly sobbed in anguish, but was luckily able to retain some extent of control. No. He'd worked so hard to build his wall of ice, no crazy woman was going to shatter it now.

It seemed as though Firr was almost wolfish. No, she wasn't a werewolf - at least, he hoped she wasn't - but her food and drink was gone within moments. Johannes liked to take his time with food, savouring the taste. Knowing Firr was staring made him more inclined to eat slowly, a minor psychological taunt. He'd done the same with chocolate when around his older sister. She would scoff a bar in seconds, whereas he would take a while, watching in delight as her face contorted in agony. Still, in this case it didn't feel as though he had won, for Firr still left him confused and no doubt she still had the upper hand. She was...drawing him, now? Gracious, what has this woman been smoking? "Your...ship?" he repeated dumbly, the words taking a moment to register. "You mean, as in a boat?" Well. The sensible thing was of course to say no. But Johannes had seemingly left his senses behind the moment his eyes had met the eyes of this woman. "Ahem. Well, why not?"

No doubt that was a big mistake.
 
"No, ship." retorted Firr firmly, and promptly began to drag him outside. After all that fuss about money and food, and Firr simply walked out of the restaurant without paying, giving no time for Johannes to be honest, himself. She had a habit of simply taking people wherever she wanted, quite against their will, it was some sort of compulsion that was often just as difficult for the victim to resist as it was for the victimiser. As soon as they were back on the alley side of the restaurant, she wrapped her arms around Johannes' waist, grinned at him like a chesire cat and apparated back to her house boat. Johannes was quite right in thinking that she only owned a boat, and a shabby one at that. The floor rocked gently beneath their feet, and though they'd fully materialised, Firr did not let go of Johannes immediately. She pulled the tall man down to nuzzle his nose and winked at him. "Why, you're the cutest thing since pygmy puffs!" she told him for no reason in particular. Then she flung open the door to the cabin and scampered in, disappearing to a back room.

When Firr reemerged she was less than properly attired. Her overalls had been long discarded and replaced with a pair of incredibly baggy blue jeans - and nothing else but for a plain white bra. It was reasonably cold that night on the water but Firr appeared not to feel it at all as she slid over to Johannes in the cosy lounge area brandishing two enormous bottles of firewhiskey. "Drink?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and looking positively adorable. As much as she loved teasing this man, her actions were entirely innocent. She was aware of what effect she might be having on her victim but it was not her direct intention to invoke the imminent reactions. Yet even she had to feel sorry for him; the man she'd just robbed, conned a meal out of, tricked into crime and was about to make very drunk.
 
Johannes was in no frame of mind to argue. He wouldn't be able to form a coherent argument at this point, anyway. Firr left him lost for words, which was something he absolutely hated. He always had strong convictions, dammit! He couldn't let some...hobo floozy boss him about! And yet, here he was, being dragged out of the restaruant like a doll. This was perhaps the most humiliating moment of Johannes's life. Actually, not quite, but...Johannes shuddered as he remembered, and forced himself to repress those memories of his childhood in Germany. He was here now, he had to at least attempt to keep his wits about him.

He gave Firr a sharp look as they materialised in what wasn't a ship, but a boat. So he'd been right, after all. Surely she was a no good con artist, and although she was adorable, she was trouble. So what was he doing allowing himself to get in to this? Johannes didn't rightly know, but when Firr appeared in...well, barely anything, Johannes slumped on to a seat, putting his head in his hands. This was not good, not good at all. "Please," he responded, thinking that alcohol would be the best way to get through this. Why didn't he just disapperate away? He was after all a fully fledged wizard. Johannes didn't fully understand why he didn't, but one thing was for sure, he was going to have a sore head in the morning.
 
Instead of wandering around the cabin in search of a no-doubt dirty glass, Firr simply handed him one of the two bottles and clinked hers against his heartily. "Yo ho, drink up hearty!" she said, and tipped her bottle up into her mouth. Some minutes later, but was actually several hours, Firr was leaning against Johannes and beaming up at him, her expression a lot dopier than usual. "You know, I've always wanted a ship," she drawled, dropping her now empty bottle of firewhiskey onto the floor where it began to roll from side to side with the throws of the docked boat. Firr watched it, swaying from side to side but wisely deigned not to watch it too long lest her stomach revolt against her. Even blind drunk, she had her pride in her strong stomach. Never would she have to confess to hurling on her own darling 'Gammy Otter'. It took her a moment to remember what she was going to say and seemed to move in slow motion as she fought to remember. "Ahhh yes." said Firr, her orange head flopping onto Johannes' shoulder. "Now, I'm not saying that my Gammy Otter isn't a ship, o'course. Nooooooo. No, this old girl's got a fine mast," she said, slapping Johannes' thigh. "But you know. Like a real ship. This ain't a ship, this is a cr*p hole."

A tip of a wave and suddenly Firr was face first into the crux of Johannes' pants. Not at all deterred by this, she mumbled into the material "My God, your crotch is hot. It's burning like this here firewhiskey," said she as she flapped her hand in the direction of the still rolling bottle. She managed to claw her way upright till she was sitting on his lap. Firr leaned in quite close and giggled slowly at him. "I say. You wouldn't mind going back to my bedroom, would you? Only I've had a feel of that *rse and I must say I wouldn't mind having 'nother." Mm, his lips tasted good. But how would she know? Perhaps it was the fact that she was running her tongue over them.
 
The more alcohol he consumed, the more time and everything around him blurred. Right now, Johannes pretty much was hardly certain of what was going on, but the one thing he did know was that he actually didn't even care. Still, he managed to take in what she was saying, which was quite a feat for his state of mind. He was already shaken enough from having met her, adding alcohol in to that equation was lethal. He still wasn't quite sure what this girl was, though. A pirate? No, that was ridiculous. Maybe she was delusional. Drug dealer? Well, nobody could naturally be that happy, could they? Everyone had their own demons weighing them down. Johannes was no exception, as much as he tried not to think about them. "I am sure one day you'll find a ship," he replied lazily to her, his words slightly slurred but fairly coherent. That was the thing about Johannes, he stayed coherent and well presented...mostly...even when he didn't feel it. Having manners drilled in to him from such a young age really paid off.

Though he did blush and look awkwardly away at her next comment, before composing himself slightly as she moved. Good God, she's sitting on my lap... he thought, his eyes widening as she leaned closer to him. "Tonight, I'll do anything you want me to,". Okay, maybe not so coherent. His mouth was running on a different circuit to his brain, in any case. It didn't matter, for he pulled Firr closer and kissed her, ever so briefly yet with a passion that was fairly alien to the straight-laced psychologist. "Take me there, Miss Firr."
 
</COLOR>
Oh, the throes 'o drunken fancy​

<COLOR color="#ee4a2d">"...and trail the seas till ev'n the fleas will want tae sink below!" sung Firr loudly as she steadily pulled her new flag up the pole till the strange material met the breeze. It seemed like a rather sorry flag; split right down the middle and with holes in strange places. In fact, if one looked a bit closer the flag seemed to be not a flag at all, but a pair of trousers. A pair of mens trousers. Firr shaded her eyes and grinned up into the sun, looking proudly over her work. Today she'd decided to go to Africa, and this time she had a sailing partner. Of course, he might be slightly unwilling to work with her since he probably had a ghastly headache, coupled with the fact that he'd be pulling ropes in the blazing sun in naught but a pair of ... well, she couldn't remember what kind of underwear he'd be wearing, but hopefully she'd see just as much as she liked of it in the coming days. Firr loved sailing, but there was only so much one could do with only other people's purses and sunken 'treasure' to pay the way, so she had her house boat find a more magical route to Africa.

It had to be at least nine am, so Firr decided that it was time to get her captured prince up and about. She practically fell down the stairs and into the galley and used the momentum to burst through the door into the captain's cabin and onto the double bed where the bare naked baby was sleeping. Not for long, though. "Mwa, mwa, mwa, mwa, mwa!" said Firr, smothering his face with enthusiastic but strangely impersonal kisses as a wake-up greeting. "The sun it up, the sky is clear, and we're going sailing!" she announced as she lay heavily on top of Johannes, bouncing up and down to help along his road to awareness and making the boat rock.
 
Johannes stirred with the worst headache he'd ever had in his life. Teamed with the rocking of the room. Oh God, the room was rocking? Oh, he was on a boat. Now he remembered. He'd spent the night with the most crazy yet absolutely fascinating woman he'd ever met, and now she was nowhere to be found. What had she done, sent him off to sea all alone? Maybe she was upstairs. Oh, so she was...he could hear her singing. Closing his eyes, he willed with all his might to be back in his own bed, back home, away from all this confusion. But alas, opening his eyes again, he realised he was still on this boat, going God-knows-where. Shutting his eyes again, Johannes attempted to sleep some more.

Unfortunately, he only got a little bit more sleep before she was once again on top of him, kissing him in a very strange manner and bouncing on him. "Good God, woman, what do you think you're playing at?" he moaned, arching his back in a rather cat-like manner. "Hang on. Did you say...did you say sailing?" Panic set in once more. Johannes needed to be back, he had work to do, he had people to see..."You're crazy, did you know that? Completely - bloody - mental!" Groaning once again, he covered his eyes as he sat up, looking around. "And where the deuce are my pants?"
 
"Of course I said sailing!" said Firr, looking almost offended at the thought of having said anything but. She gave his nose a good tweak and rolled off so that she was now bouncing beside him with barely suppressed energy. How on earth she didn't have a killer hangover was beyond the human race, but she never seemed to suffer from them no matter how p!ss-headed she got. Wizards supposed that she used some sort of home made potion, and muggles assumed she had a cracking good home remedy that they usually needed to try themselves if they'd been drinking with her. She began to giggle just looking at Johannes. Even waking up in the morning, he was such a stiff! 'You're mental' this, and 'Where are my pants?' that. What relevance did that have to anything she was planning to do today; like sailing! Ooh, Johannes had nice hair. Firr decided to run her fingers through it, for she distinctly remembered doing something similar the night before and being quite pleased with the results. She flopped down besides him, contented as a cat, and buried her face into his hair. "You smell goooood." Well he did, compared to her. Not that she smelt bad in the slightest, but she smelt strongly of the ocean and often had sand in her hair whether there was any sand around or not. She flapped her hand vaguely in the direction of the flag pole, which could just be seen from the porthole as his pants flapped merrily in the breeze.

Firr didn't own a pet and didn't have people around very often, so she was fresh out of things to cuddle. Johannes was nice and warm and very cuddly indeed, so she decided to do this also. Firr tucked herself into his side and cuddled into his chest affectionately, not necessarily intimate with the man himself but simply liking hugs. "Well look, there's fried fish for breakfast if you want it and lots of scrumpy as well, so up and at 'em!" Firr bellowed the end of the sentence suddenly. She didn't explain what scrumpy was.
 
Johannes groaned, rolling over and wanting nothing more than to go back to bed. Or at least have a nice drink of water, a decent breakfast, and to head back to work solving other people's problems. Instead, here he was on a boat with a woman that he was sure was the definition of insane, and he felt as though he was actually warming up to her. Johannes wasn't caring beyond basic necessity for his job, so what was he doing actually being intrigued by Firr? At any rate, even if he thought she was absolutely crazy, she was still completely adorable. "Sailing. Right. And where are you taking me, hmm?" Johannes asked, wondering if he'd ever get home. Alive. Still, he enjoyed the affection, as much as he would be hard pressed to admit it, and as much as he knew she was probably just using him for some twisted purpose. He blanched a little when he saw that his pants were now the flag of the boat, but his anger quickly dissolved when she cuddled up to him.

Nobody had ever really done this to him before. Nobody had ever cuddled up to him in such a friendly and affectionate manner. He'd had relationships in the past, but they had never been particuarly loving or gentle. Just relationships of convienience, most often. They were similar, there was never much beyond physical attraction there but they could always continue banal conversations. Of course, they never worked out. And after he got off this boat, he suspected he'd never see Firr again. Still, for the moment, he simply enjoyed the feeling of being close to another person. It was a strange feeling at first, but he kind of liked it. He didn't want to get too close for he knew he'd only get hurt, but for now, he actually felt peaceful.

Unfortunately, she broke the moment by bellowing at him. Groaning, Johannes at least found his underwear and shirt and put them back on, sighing at how underdressed he was. "What on Earth is scrumpy?" He wondered if she ever ate properly, unless she scammed meals from naive men all the time.
 
Oh slap me silly, it's the wrong account.

Ignore!​
 
Firr rubbed her pink-tinged nose as she watched him dress with open interest, spending a good long moment staring at his bum as he bent over. Nevertheless, the look on her face wasn't quite as perverted as one would expect it to be in such a circumstance, which was what threw people off. She did affectionate things in the exact opposite way that they should be done, as if she was only doing them because that was the thing to do. But something that was obvious was that Firr had a genuine interest in Johannes; if not she would never have carted him halfway across the world and taken him to her bed. Granted, they'd both been ridiculously drunk at the time, but there wouldn't have been a drunk stage in the first place if she hadn't decided to con a meal out of him. Firr was eccentric but she was not stupid; she could see that she had an abnormal amount of influence on him, which she intended to exploit. But what she didn't know was how much he was able to do the same to her. "Scrumpy-" she announced, "Is a particular brew of mine with a good lot of ingredients just perfectly suited for curing a hangover," Firr said in an informative voice that was remarkably well played. She played sanity very well indeed. "And if you don't believe that it works, why just look at me. I should be hurling my innards over the side, but this scrumpy is vile, miraculous stuff." The word 'vile' was thrown in so casually that it could have been a compliment.

She'd specifically not answered his first question until now. Firr took a roll off the bed specifically when a wave tossed the cabin so that she slid neatly to her feet. Once again she turned to plant her hands on her hips and grin at him. "You and I buddy, me pal, me old chum, are going to Africa." said Firr. Just for good measure she skipped over and pulled him down to give him a large kiss on the lips. They weren't lovers or anything, but there was a good measure of coercion in the kiss regardless. Suddenly the smell of burning fish hit her nose, and she gasped and fled to the top deck. Indeed, her frying fish was as charred as anything and giving of a good plume of black smoke. Firr waved her hands frantically over the fish and let out a moan of genuine anxiety. The sound was desperately sad on her lips and didn't seem to belong with her hyperactive nature. There was nothing worse to Firr than losing a meal, for she would not eat again till she could fish, and there was little aboard to fish with. She clapped her hand to her forehead and turned to face the ocean. "You might as well go home," she said softly, unsure if Johannes could hear her and not caring either way.
 
He knew he was being watched, but Johannes had never been particuarly bashful. Never exactly outgoing, but not shy either. Besides, she'd already seen all of him, and he'd seen all of her. It was just a body, nothing particuarly special. At least there were no scars. All his scars were merely emotional, after all. "That sounds wonder-vile?" Johannes shuddered. Oh well, hangover cures were supposed to be awful. Still, he didn't particuarly like the sound of it. "Well, if that's really the reason you're fine, I suppose I ought to try it."

Johannes had to do another double-take when she said they were going to Africa. "A-A..." he spluttered, but was quickly silenced by her kiss. Damned, wretched woman! It was hardly fair that she could manipulate him like that. Completely inexplicable, too. Nobody, and he meant nobody took advantage of him! Well, perhaps in the past, they had, but he was a grown man now. How could this ridiculous woman have him completely in the palm of her hand? He felt utterly foolish, useless.

Overhearing her cry of sadness and catching a whiff of the burning fish, Johannes got up and walked up to the deck, genuinely concerned. How on Earth could Firr seem sad? This was completely different to how he'd seen her before. Oddly enough, Johannes actually smirked to himself. Finally, he was beginning to understand. "You and I, Firr, we are not so different as I had first thought." He paused for a moment, in contemplation, before looking down at her again. "Do summoning charms work on fish? I must admit I have never had much to do with the sea."
 
Urgh, the nerve of him! For Johannes to suggest that they weren't that different simply because she'd burnt her fish seemed like a great insult to Firr, even though that hadn't been the point at all. It could have been him just implying that he couldn't cook either, or something else deeper entirely, but Firr had trouble seeing beyond what wasn't straight in front of her. She didn't like being compared to his class of people as she saw it; they were nothing alike at all. Firr screwed up her nose and whirled around. "Don't you smirk at me like that! 'Do summoning charms work on fish?'. Shows what you know doesn't it." She was storming up to him all the while, meaning to strike out in anger but instead she simply gave him a good shove - right over the edge of the railing. Splash. The hand that was previously on her forehead clapped over her mouth. A tiny giggle escaped her lips. Oh dear. Suddenly Firr bursts into peals of laughter and without further ado, threw off her faded grey t-shirt and leapt after Johannes.

Firr hit the water with an exaggerated splash as she bomb-dived into the ocean. There was no chance of the boat floating away on them since the water was calm and the anchor was down. She paddled awkwardly over to Johannes and threw her arms around his neck happily, trying to disguise the fact that she had great difficulty swimming. She didn't like to look as if she had difficulty doing anything, but she was happier with her arms around him so that she wouldn't sink. "There's no good fish where we are right now, Jo. I'll wait till we get to dry land and pick up another bloke for a meal or see if there's any markets around to pillage from. Then it's off to find treasure!" she told Johannes happily. Something brushed by her foot in the water and Firr tensed and clung slightly to the man with a soft intake of breath. Looking down, a piece of seaweed floated away. She pouted childishly at it.
 
She didn't seem happy. Johannes flinched instinctively, either she didn't like being compared to him, or he was wrong. But Johannes never believed himself to be wrong, so clearly, in his eyes, she was resisting comparison because she liked to be on her own. Why, then, was she dragging him to Africa? Johannes wasn't actually sure he wanted to know. He almost panicked as she intended to strike him - in his own head, he could hear himself screaming. No, no, please... he thought desperately, trying to repress those harmful memories and trying not to panic. It didn't work. He would've blacked out, had it not been that she just gave him a shove and pushed him in to the water. Struggling to breathe, Johannes tred water, keeping his head above water. She may have been laughing, but Johannes certainly wasn't.

Calming himself down as Firr approached him, he kept himself afloat as she seemed to use him as support - surely she could swim, she lived on a boat after all. "Oh. I understand." He scowled slightly at the suggestion that she would go and pick up another bloke for a meal. "It's a pleasure to know that I'm so expendable." Sighing, he attempted to pull over his normal facade again. "I wasn't intending on allowing you to pillage while I was in your company, but I suppose you don't need me after all..." Getting home would be nice. But he was trying desperately not to admit that he'd miss her. Quite a lot.
 
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