DENIZENS OF THE PLANES, HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?

Sameia entered the Captain's cabin. Without knocking. As she was want to do.

She had permission, but she had been doing it often lately.

The Captain stood at her desk, maps, charts, and blueprints spread across it's surface. Paliano, the docks, the high city... The Crescenzo estate itself. Strong armed from the remanants of the family who had built it generations ago, edited with the unmarked passages and secrets Adelaide remembered from her childhood. A precious document. The key to her success, and to her future.

She looked a mess, as Sam crossed to her. She hadn't slept well, her curls were tangled and knotted in many spots. An empty mug had been pushed to the far edge of the desk, and another was still laying across the small room by the far wall, from when it had been thrown.

She trailed a hand across their shoulder as she came to stand behind the desk with The Captain. Bliss didn't truly notice, still absorbed in the maps beneath her, as she scratched out another plan in ink. She would throw this one out too, eventually. The guard rotations never lined up right, or she would hear a report back from those watching the estate that something had changed, her planned route of entry was no longer available. They shifted their stance, tail flicking irritably as she looked down at the desk beneath her hands.

"I can't sleep yet. I'm close. We're close. I just... Need more information."

The Captain had been saying it for months already. They had been scraping together every ounce of information they could on her mother, on her family, on the physical estate. It still didn't feel like enough. She sighed, straightening up and stretching her back, as Sameia rubbed a warm hand across her hunched shoulders.

When had she become so cautious? When had she started worrying about exit strategies, about supplies and stealth and making sure they wouldn't be seen? Wouldn't be hunted and chased from this plane just like Ixalan?

Oh yes. That's when. When she lost her network. She grimaced, and Sam's tail curled around her own when it paused in it's irritated twitching.

"The first 10 plans were all fine. We're breaking in, taking what we need, and leaving." Sam picks up a crumpled piece of parchment. The latest plan she had discarded. "What part about that wasn't working for you?"

She didn't understand. It wasn't about that. Well, it was, but not like that. The Contessa Crescenzo would be home. She HAD to be home. And therefore it had to be perfect. Adelaide had to make sure it was perfect. Her... Revenge? Ascension? Confrontation.

She needed to be in control of the meeting with her mother. She needed to prove to her that she could succeed her. Or... Something like that. She wasn't sure.

This plan felt like the closest yet. They could get in, lock down the estate, take out any problematic guards, stop anyone from interfering. But she just couldn't account for The Contessa herself. And that was what was irritating her.

"It's just... Not right." She answered lamely. How could she explain this to Sameia? It barely made sense to her. She didn't WANT to be the Contessa. She didn't WANT to stay on this plane. But she wanted her freedom. And that would come with power. Crescenzo family power. Her mother's power.

Bliss sighed, taking a step back from the desk. Even is something within her simmered with resentment at being pulled away from creating their perfect plan, she was at her wit's end. She needed rest, and food, and the company of someone other than her own thoughts.

"You're right. Let's get out of here. What time is it?" Bliss looked around the cabin, grimacing at the state of it. The tankard on the floor slowly rolled back and forth with the movement of the ship. It would need to be cleaned up. Ideally before she was caught up in planning again.

"Just past dawn." Sam looked between the plans of the desk. Nearly identical, differences only in slight timings and choosing one hallway over another. She shook her head.

The Captain groaned, rubbing her burning eyes. "Morning. Hells. Has Ruel-"

"Already finished cooking breakfast. And most of the crew has already eaten." Sam made a small correction to the current draft of the plan. "He saved you some. But you're getting the dregs of the coffee still."

Bliss chose not to care about her tampering in the moment.

Maybe Sam would see something she couldn't. Sameia was smarter than she was. She was better at planning, at strategy, everything that a leader truly needed.

The rains are crashing down to the seas of Fiora, hard enough to block out the city of Paliano, hard enough that every single person aboard the Storm’s Wake has taken refuge below decks.

But for some reason, I can’t keep myself away from the door onto the deck proper.

I never really liked the water. There was never all that much in one place back home, outside of a few raised canals and some really fucked up parts of the undercity, so most of my experience has been here or back on Ixalan. The fact of ships isolating their people someplace they can’t really run or hide… has proven fun in the past. The fact of being trapped on a constantly shaking and shifting vessel as it carries us across an endless expanse of water is much less fun. But now, with this storm raging, the water soaking the rigging and flooding the deck… well, it’s rain. Just like back home. So, somehow, I’m pressed against the door, even when everyone is asleep, gazing out into the storm.

Gazing out, at least, until I open the door and step through.

The rain is cold as it beats down on my face. Cold as it flows over my wings. Cold as the sky growls and cries and I begin my journey up and up and up. The world has been thrown into darkness, aside from the screaming crackles of light that cast everything into sharp relief for split seconds at a time.

When the bolt comes to hit me, I don’t see it coming, I just see the storm and sea lighting up again.

When it hits me, I feel it. Light enveloping me, every explosion I’ve ever seen echoing in my skull, every drop of rain burning off of me in an instant.

I feel myself fall, down and down and down, limp and ragged.

Koda sat up on the couch immediately. He had been watching Captain Storm chase after Bantenso until Bantenso finally won and got up on the fridge, but he recognized the voice. He was up off of the couch and through the living room, dining room, and kitchen before anyone else even registered the new-to-them voice.

The two nezumi were somewhere in their sixties, but might have been older. Both were armed and armored similarly, though the one who had called out was a few inches taller than her husband.

Koda dropped to his knees and hugged his adopted parents tightly. Lethaltooth and Silentsign hugged him back. “Welcome home,” he said when he pulled away, signing in nezumi sign language as he spoke. “Did you two enjoy your trip?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Lethaltooth said, signing as well for Silentsign’s sake. “We brought more kids, by the way.” She turned and gestured for whoever was waiting to come in as well. Koda got to his feet as the new kids arrived.

The first thing he noticed was that they were on the older end. The younger two were probably around eight years old, while the oldest was probably around twelve, though it was hard to tell with angels. Then he noticed what each of them were – a reaper Valkyrie, two gorgons (one with legs and one without, who also had a snake across her shoulders), a goblin, an elf, and an orc. Some were injured and others were disabled.

Lethaltooth handled the introductions. “These are Frigg” – the Valkyrie, obviously from Kaldheim – “Wytha” – the gorgon with legs, probably from Ravnica – “Iaso and Panakeia” – the gorgon without legs, obviously from Theros, and her snake companion – “Torzi and Ileth” – the goblin and the elf, maybe Fioran – “and Aykan” – the orc, possibly from Tarkir.

Days of torrential rain had emptied the streets of Paliano. Captain Bliss imagined this was perhaps the emptiest they had ever been. She knew she would never know. She had never prowled these streets in her old life. She had studied maps to find their path, as they followed the roads to the grand cogwork elevators of the High City. Even in this weather, they ran unendingly, always on schedule. Dressed in their heavy cloaks, weapons hidden beneath, the small team of pirates would not draw much attention. And any attention drawn would easily be dealt with.

It had been months since The Captain felt she'd had a break. Her Ex-husband's estate had been stripped for parts, everything valuable sold or claimed as her own. She had even gone as far as to tear down the menagerie at the country property, repurposing the metal, wood, and stone for better causes. The estates remained, hollow shells of their former glory. She had considered burning them and salting the earth, just to send a message, but it seemed a waste. There was still use to be gained from these estates. And since no one had come looking for him, they were hers, either by inheritance or by conquest.

She had not been sitting on her laurels, though. She had basked in the victory, yes, and collected a tidy profit from the whole affair, but there was work to be done for the next part of her plan.

The money had given her enough to establish a foothold in this plane, letting her start the trading post that the Ambassador of Thrullvia had requested. But it would be more than that. She had already acquired a few more ships, fast and well armed. Importing cannons from other planes let her cut down on the weaponry required, replacing the traditional guns with lightweight magical devices. They had already proven themselves at sea, and merchants were learning to fear them. Their hauls were brought back to her new base of operations, where they were parcelled off to those desperate or saavy enough to trade with her. And her power continued to grow.

Our hunt today was a resounding success! No casualties on our side, only a handful of injuries, and we only had to put down a few fools on the ship we attacked. The take was good, though a lot of the shipment is goods we'll have to fence to get our take. The crew should hopefully be satisfied with this. Proof of our success and time to spend the money will be good for them. The break from the coalition has been stressful for all.

In personal news, I have felt disquieted after leaving Ixalan. The plane which had been my home for many years, I now find myself exiled from. I do not wish to share my past often, though the people I have met recently through the communication devices seem determined to prove me incorrect. It has been on my mind, as I have once again found myself falling back to the tactics I was taught in my youth, and I wonder how things would have changed if I had listened to my mentor after becoming a captain. I was often scolded during my training for being too brutal, or picking fights that I won at a high cost. Ironically, I find myself getting onto Biilzie's case for many of the same things. Perhaps Gallardo had some sense after all. Perhaps when I join him in the seas below, I will tell him so he may comiserate with me.