Jack Morrison grunted subtly as he lifted a large bag out from the back of a cart, bringing the weight of the majority of his supplies with only outstretched arms before carefully lowering it to the ground, sighing in relief. He tipped the driver and turned back to his duffel bag, eyeing the regal stern side of his ship. Near its peak sat the name of his own vessel, Splitstream; the mass of wooden and metal having served him well and for longer than any human or animal.

He sighed as he usually did upon viewing the massive trade ship after being on leave for some time, slowly turning to eye the collection of men who were carrying crates of supplies up a ramp and onto the ship, with different managers keeping tabs of their work. Jack lifted up his bag again and strapped it atop his shoulder, bearing the weight easier now, as he made his way toward the docks, making sure to avoid the quickly running carts going to and fro along the port. He kept an eye out for Lena, who was to bring Angela here already to give her a crash course on port-side etiquette, quickly noticing the two as they both entered his view.

"Father!" Angela shouted happily, rushing toward him and leaping into a hug, "It's so magnificent here! Everybody speaks a different language, there are so many cool wares! I can't believe it took you this long to bring me along!"

Jack cleared his throat, eyeing Lena as she grinned nervously, presenting his daughter to him with an outstretched arm as the captain explained, "My third-mate regaling grandiose tales to my daughter, making this life seem far more enticing than it truly is might have something to do with it."

Lena frowned, crossing her arms, "Oh, come on; it wasn't nearly that bad. Not my fault if you're old and frail and disillusioned with a life I happen to continue to be lured to."

Angela turned toward Lena with shock in her eyes, horrified by how she'd taken to speaking to her father, though Jack mere shook his head, smirking, "I'm not frail enough to cross your name off the charter."

Reaching her elbow out to playfully hit Angela's arm, Lena grinned happily, "You're dad's actually cool when he's around his ship. Don't be too surprised."

"Maybe too cool," came a male voice from behind the three of them, the group turning to find the bazaar from earlier, Larry Franklin, who'd begun to laugh as he patted Jack's shoulder heartily, "I was scouring this dock for twenty minutes trying to catch you before you left! There's the little issue of the primage, I believe, that we have yet to settle."

Jack's shoulders sagged dishearteningly, "Good friend, you know I wouldn't allow anything to-"

"Nonsense!" Larry shouted, his rotund frame shaking as he laughed with great enthusiasm, bringing a small satchel from his pocket and handing it to Captain Morrison, who only sighed as he dejectedly took it from him, "If you come up across a storm, I'd like to know your payment isn't on your mind."

Jack's lips tugged in unamusement, "Maybe for any new clients, but certainly not for you, good friend. Thank you."

Larry smiled widely as he nodded in reply, turning to the two women and lifting his wide-grinned hat as he excused himself, "Ladies. You all have a great day."

Unable to resist, Angela's ears twitched as her father's hand fell to his side, the satchel in his hand suddenly jingling with the twinkle of coins, "What's primage, exactly?"

Jack's head turned toward her slowly as he eyed her, his third mate quickly coming to his daughter's defense, "Oh c'mon, that's a commerce term, she had no reason to know it."

Shoving the satchel into his pocket, Jack sighed as if regretting this decision already, though he crossed his arms, explaining to his daughter attentively, "Basically it's a payment made to the ship for assurance that their cargo will be handled with care for the duration of the trip. Beyond that, it's up to personal practice; I tend to distribute it amongst the crew, but some captains keep it."

"Hear that?" Lena chimed, wrapping an arm around Angela's shoulders and pulling her close, "You might even get paid for this trip!"

Angela rolled her eyes, turning to Lena with sarcastic intent, "He's just gonna say that giving me life was-"

"Giving my daughter life was payment enough," Jack muttered absently as he looked down the list he'd scribbled out on a scrappy piece of paper, "That about settles any and all matters of the fiscal nature. I just have to tell the deckhands we'll be shoving off soon, so you two get aboard. Lena, I'm sure you'll show her around and introduce her to the crew?"

Lena's arm shot upward, her flat hand smacking against her forehead with a vigorous, "AYE AYE, CAP'N!"

With a nervous sort of scoff, Jack turned his head to ascertain whether or not anybody was peering their way as a result of the outburst, groaning before waving the two off, "Just go on, alright? I'd much rather not cause a scene."

"YES SIR!" Angela cried out in emulation of Lena, saluting herself as the third mate screwed a massive smirk up her chin at her protégée's work.

Jack buried his face into a hand, cursing under his breath as he spun around, "Bad influence. Bad influence; fuck…"

Lena and Angela shared light-hearted giggles as the older of the two led the way toward the boarding ramp that led straight of the dock and onto the large ship, the Splitstream, "Y'know, this puppy got its name because it cruised so fast in its heyday that it tore streams right through the land itself!"

Skeptically eyeing the mate, Angela grumbled in agreement as the whimsical lookout went on, "Oh! and the mast was Zeus' comforter that fell from the heavens. or so they say, anyway."

"Who are they?" Angela questioned teasingly.

Lena shrugged, "I suppose just the Oxtons. Anywho, welcome aboard!"

Angela walked out onto the wooden deck of the Splitstream, having only been upon its mighty frame at rare intervals in her life. She always would stare out into the ocean, dreaming of remaining upon the craft and cruising around the globe, though her excitement was always shared by her father. Now, knowing she was to come along, a breath of adventure stride across her heart, a smile stretching over her face as she clutched the top of her hat with the wind kicking up. She rushed to the railing of the ship, leaning out over the ocean with a grin as wide as the brim of her straw hat, staring off onto the horizon.

"Hey now, you're gonna be seeing plenty of that on the trip," Lena warned warmly as she grabbed Angela's shoulder, pulling her away and along toward the interior of the ship, "Now, you're gonna need to know the crew, so I'll show you around, okay? This baby is a great ship, with plenty of room to keep up with all the latest advancements. It's still kinda clunky, but Cap'n went all out on a radio transmitter, our cannons are all state of the art- and he even made sure to go all out on the crew manning them both. We've got the best of the best; that's why your dad transports so much- everybody knows he delivers."

With a subdued look of awe on her face, Angela gasped lightly, "Wow… I guess I never noticed just how much effort he put into all this. I mean, I knew it was his whole life but still."

"After his wife died, I dunno, it seemed like he started replacing her with the ship, y'know? Going out of his way to make it 110%, it was really his way of either atoning or simply his way of paying tribute to her. That's what I've always figured, anyway; I've never asked," Lena frowned, "I think he'd have me on rudder duty if I did so."

If her words were true, Angela thought, it would make sense. Though it stung a bit to know her father had fought so vehemently to keep her away from this project of a vessel that was so close to his heart. She kept silent as Lena led her down into the interior, down a collection of stairs that led into a fork, the right side whirling around more stairs into the rest of the innards of the Splitstream, while the left was simply an open door leading into what appeared to be a closet with a gigantic machine erected against one entire wall.

"Wow," Angela muttered in shock, "Look at that."

Lena grinned proudly, "That's the radio. Neat, huh? Not that many ships have it, but a lot of ports do- Cap'n uses it to save time. He can communicate with the port to see if they have any orders pending or if his cargo is ready to be brought in. Far better than the hassle of entering port and getting caught in the sea traffic."

The two entered the closet-sized room, with Lena pointing out the machine's major part with quite the rudimentary understanding, "Radio waves come on a bunch of different strands, I think he called 'em, so basically this thing has these few hundred plugs, and if we don't know the frequency, we literally have to check each and every one until we find it."

She pulled out a lengthy plug that wound up to a different console that held a thick pair of headphones, "Our telecommunications expert sits here and monitors it all. If you watch her work, by george, she's like a bat out of hell. Like I said, Cap'n gets the best- she's goes through strands in seconds!"

"Bands…" came a subdued voice from behind the two of them, a short, rather girlish woman standing there with a droll expression, apparently unenthused by Lena's explanation, "They're called bands. Those sockets each pick up band-widths."

She eyed Angela with a critiquing face, "Don't let her poison you."

"Pfft! Poison," Lena repeated with a laugh, "Hana, I don't know the first thing about venomous snakes."

The telecommunications expert shot a pithy glare toward her before squeezing between the two, pulling a stool out from beneath the desk as she shook her head in disbelief, cursing beneath her breath, "Third mate, huh? Ugh…"

She started organizing the desk that sat in front of the large machine, speaking up without turning toward the two, "Who're you?"

"I'm, uh, Angela. The captain's daughter."

"Uh huh. You look like him," the radio girl muttered, "I'm Hana. Hana Song. I sit here and monitor anything coming over the band from any ports, or if we happen to come across another ship with radio s well. That's still pretty rare though."

Angela nodded, "Song? You're not from around here, huh?"

"No-"

"Nope!" Lena interrupted with a vigorous shout, "Hana comes straight from Korea! Cap'n spent an arm and a leg to get over there and find her, and even then, he had to bend over backwards to get her to join the crew! What was it, he had to bring her aboard, show her the equipment she'd be working with, and even then, didn't he have to do something else before you'd agree?"

A childishly sort of sinister smirk appeared across Hana's face, "Let's just say I wasn't interest in his money when it came to the form of payment…"

She snickered to herself as she crouched down below the desk, allowing Angela to reveal a concerned look toward Lena, who merely shrugged in reply, grabbing her arm and pulling her along, leaving Hana with a sharp, "Well, fight the good fight, Hana! I'm gonna keep showing Ms. Cap'n around."

Still snickering, Hana replied with a gravelly sort of voice, "Yes, we will fight the good fight… Especially after our shipment from Vancouver…"

Hana's eyes glazed over, though the spell was broken by Lena, who asked, "Is Junkie here yet?"

"Yes, probably making love to one of the cannons down there or whatever it is he does; god only knows," Hana replied, oblivious to her own behavior which seemed just as troll-like.

Angela whipped her head around, "Cannons?! I thought father only dealt with trade."

"Well yeah!" Lena replied as the two crossed to the other end of the fork, working their way down into the hull of the ship, "But you've got pirate shit, rival traders vying for fiscal superiority. You think your dad made it to the top just because this thing is fast? Anyone can be quick on the seas; but only the best can destroy other ships trying to take them out. He's fast, and he gets cargo around in one piece. That's where the money is."

Angela nodded only slightly, slightly perturbed by her own naïvety as the two pressed on, Lena going on, "Cap'n's got the best cannons, and a bloody insane cannoneer to man them. Seriously, I've seen his arse crawl into the guns for a nap before- he lives and breathes the things."

"'ey!" came an accented shout from the large cannon room below, "This freak c'n still 'ear, ya know! AND 'e stlll has feelin's too, right."

Lena grinned, leaning back mid-stride to whisper into Angela's ear, "This guy's great."

She quickly returned with a shout of her own, "C'mon, I was just setting the stage for the Cap'n's daughter, Junkie. She just needs to know what's up before she wanders in on you cleaning these things."

"'ey! Not a single time 'ave these pups misfired! Why d'you think that is, eh? You gotta care for 'em s'though they were ya own kidders; then they'll take care a'- Hold up, ya said Cap's daughtah?!"

A massive CRASH reverberated through the wooden walls of the ship, sending a nervous shiver through Angela's spine as more blasts of a ruckus pierced the air, leading to a loud pitter-patter of feet clacked along the planked floor, a man spinning round the corner that gave Angela a shock. She recoiled as she saw the scraggly hair of the man going all over the place, dark patches of burned skin everywhere he was exposed, and finally a wooden peg leg making up one of his limbs. He smiled crazily as he offered his two hands, as if ready to pay her hand as they shared a handshake, an excited voice escaping him.

"Well hooley dooley! If it ain't my Angie in the flesh!"

While she'd offered her a hand, Angela yanked it back in shock, "M-M-My Angie?!"

'Junkie' cackled with a start, slapping his peg leg with good humor before grabbing his stomach to ease the tremors of laughter, "My pardon, shiela! Morris'n caught onta my namin' the cannons 'n 'e asked ta save one of 'em ta be named afta' you."

He sidled up toward Angela and pointed high to guide her vision through the remaining stairway and cross beams, "See inna back there? The pride o' the Splitstream! That baby, she spits out twenty rounds a' minute unda my care; but I 'ssure ya, I put her through tha paces!"

Met with a tremendous moment of culture shock, Angela could only nod with feigned fascination, sending 'Junkie' into a fierce laugh at her supposed praise.

"Let's just hope ya don't have 'er knack at bein' a powder keg!" he joked further, turning away to dash back around the corner, "Gotta get tha winch ready, Len! See ya portside!"

"Okay!" Lena shouted back with a prominent smile, her arms at her sides in akimbo as she proudly turned toward Angela with a chuckle, "I told ya he was awesome, didn't I!"

Not wanting to be heard, Angela only gave a weak sort of smile as she silently began to creep back up the stairs, Lena chuckling as she followed along, "I know, I know. We're a motley crew of insane people, but that just means you can do whatever suits your fancy and still not be the odd-man out. There's always someone weirder…usually Junkrat down there, but hey. The man knows his way around a cannon; you'll never find a more loyal shiphand this side of the hemisphere."

The two stepped up the creaking steps of the staircase back above deck, Angela already realizing how dark and musty is was as compared to the bright outdoors. She took a deep breath, bending backwards to stretch, raising her arms high up into the sky with a smile.

"They all seem fine so far," she admitted, still holding onto a grin, "Trust me, after you've had five friends in this city, you've pretty much befriended everybody- there's little here that broadens anybody beyond their basic scope, so everybody just sorta, I don't know, they don't 'grow', I guess, into different people. They all just stop at some point, like the city is so mundane it chokes their individuality."

Lena shrugged, "Reminds me of home, really. I haven't spoken to my family in years, so this band of nuts sorta has become my family. That's one of the big things Cap'n preaches."

She immediately stood at attention, throwing a fist out in front of her as though awaiting a fist bump, suddenly shouting out in a voice impersonating Captain Morrison, "Family is key! Number one! No holds barred! If ya ain't got shipmates you can trust, you ain't got much! Lena, quit hoggin' the jerky! We nearly ran ashore!"

Breaking the mood with a sudden cackle, Lena's torso fell forward as she wrapped her arms around in stomach as her laughter pained her, her feet swaying her to and fro as her light voice carried laughter through the air like a song. Angela could only continue to watch with amused confusion, her face twisting as such while her hand held her straw hat to her head as the wind carried along.

"Seems like the opposite of whatever he had me doing, staying at home all the time by myself," she shrugged, "Oh well. He has to be turning over a new leaf or something."

Bowing her head as if humoring Lena's own good humor, Angela proclaimed with a neutral voice, "I will give my father the benefit of the doubt for the time being. Maybe he had some scheme going on that he didn't want me privy to or whatever."

"That's the spirit!" Lena answered jovially, "On the high seas, we cease to be who we are on the land. Out there, there ain't nothing but each other, and there's nothin' quite like making yourself into a new person when we pass onto the space where no nation resides."

Her voice making it sound so whimsical, Angela smiled as she stared up into the sky with deepening eyes, "I guess you're right. It's an adventure! I shouldn't be worrying about fath- AH!"

A strong gust of wind suddenly burst past her, carrying her favorite hat away and into the wind. Angela's eyes went wide, her body yanking itself forward as she chased it down port side, her feet stomping in a mad dash, Lena joining the sprint as she realized what had happened. The hat blew back and forth, toward the bow, the wind threatening to sail it out toward the ocean as Angela's face darkened at the thought.

Suddenly, a WHOOSH blew past Angela, the force of a body blazing right beside her causing her body to fall off balance, sending her falling onto the wood below, her head keeping steady to watch as a man glided across the deck, his feet slipping and sliding atop two rags, his hand outstretched as his thick bolts of hair flapped in the breeze behind him.

"Yo! I got it!" he shouted with enthusiasm, finding the hat just beyond his reach, "Lucio's my name, skatin's my-!"

Just in front of him, a hatch blew open as Junkrat's head popped out, the wooden barrier stopping Lucio in his tracks, the man going sideways, his lungs bursting as he crashed into the half-high wall as his midsection barreled over the thick hull door, Junkrat obliviously crying out toward Lena's sprinting form, "I got the winch cookin' now, shiela!"

Lucio's slumped body rolled off the trap door that led into the hull, sending him to the deck as Lena vaulted over his limp body, making a last ditch grasp as she leapt from the ship, grabbing ahold of a mast line with her other hand while the just managed to clutch the slightest brim of the hat.

"Gotcha-! Whoa!"

At the apex of the line's swing, Lena went flying back toward the side of the ship, her teeth barred in worry as she went careening into the vessel with a loud THUD, seeming to shake the entire Splitstream as she hung there aquiver. She slowly felt herself being lugged up back onto deck, though she hadn't the strength to raise her head.

Meanwhile, Angela bent down to help Lucio to his feet, the deckhand still groaning painfully as he shot a stare toward the trap door, "Gee, thanks, J! Couldn't choose a worse time, could ya?!"

Junkrat's head hopped back out from the hull with a steely look, "Yah shouldn't be runnin' 'round tha deck 'n tha first place! I swear, it's like I'm tha only one 'ere sometimes, gee willickers!"

He grabbed the door in the floor and slammed it shut as he fell back into the ship, Lucio grumbling to himself as he kicked the two thick rags up into the air, snatching them with his hand as they fluttered in place, hanging them from an outstretched arm as he turned toward the new crewman with a welcoming smile, offering his free hand.

"Now I'd recognize that face anywhere; you must be the Captain's daughter, huh?" he asked with narrowed eyes, studying her face.

Angela nearly blushed as she raised an open hand to her face, "O-Oh, uh, d-do I really look like him that much..?"

"Pfft," Lucio scoffed with a laugh, "No, he won't stop talking about you on our voyages. I have a kid of my own, so he and I will chat about our families. We'll exchange photographs and stuff, so that's where I've seen ya from."

With a pale face, Angela's expression dropped worriedly, thinking back to the one and only photograph she'd ever been in, turning toward her father, who was at the edge of the ship pulling Lena back aboard, "You showed him that?!"

Jack peered over her shoulder with a confused look, though Lucio only chuckled as he played with one of his massive strands of hair, "Oh yeah, that was the picture where you were stomping up toward the camera with 'n angry look on your face, huh?"

"You were showing that off?! I can't believe- that was so embarrassing!" Angela plead to her father as Lena slumped over the railing and flopped down onto the deck with Angela's hat still clutched in her hand, her body like a lifeless fish.

"You're my beautiful little girl; you think I'm not proud to show that off?" he spoke evenly, as though not anywhere understanding his daughter's perturbed attitude.

In defeat, Angela lowered her head helplessly, gradually returning to normal as she recalled her manners, finally shaking Lucio's hand, "Sorry. I'm Angela."

"Lucio," he grinned happily, giving a thumbs up with his other hand, the two rags fluttering behind his arm, "The best deckhand in the Pacific! I do a little bit of everything around here, but most of my duty is down in the mess whipping up meals that makes all these people weep. You have no idea how creative you gotta be when you've got a fish and some random herbs snatched up from some island you just happened to pass along on the route; it's a blast!"

The deckhand turned as he lost himself in thought, eyeing the Captain as Jack approached the two, "Ya know, I ain't once made the captain cry at a meal, now that I think about it."

"You won't," Angela spoke with twisted lips, "I've been living with him for like twenty years and he hasn't once showed anything in the way of deep emotion."

Her father smirked proudly at her words, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he turned to Lucio, "Thanks for the extra layer of clean you doled out on deck. Angela, your hat."

He handed the hat to his daughter, who accepted it with a smile, returning it to her hand and remembering to hold it down, "I don't know what I'd do without this thing. I'll tell Lena thanks when she, uh, wakes up."

"Do that," Jack nodded appreciatively, "As long as my third mate is out, I suppose I have to let everybody know we're shoving off. Cargo's on and all secure and accounted for. We make for San Francisco to pick up Jesse before heading up north."

"Aye aye!" Lucio shouted.

Jack turned to his daughter with an expectant grin, remaining silent as she eyed him curiously for just a moment before she frowned, groaning quietly as she muttered, "Aye aye…"

"'Aye aye' what?" Jack asked in a teasing sort of tone, earning a stare from his daughter.

"Aye aye…captain," Angela complained.

Lucio could only just hide a chuckle with a hand as he turned away, amused by the scene before him.