"Rise and Shine for the Cunard Line!" Carpathia groaned, yawned and offered a glare at the bellboy who sounded the familiar call. "Can't you give me a few more hours?" She asked. "You're do to leave at 16:00." Came the reply. "A few more minutes?" Carpathia tried and once again the answer was an affirmative no. You'd think after using up all her coal on a roundabout run, 3 days out, 3 days in, a four hour sprint and doubling down on her passenger load would earn her a bit of a rest but nooo! Growling furiously, Carpathia staggered to her keel. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her near empty coal bunkers. She sighed in relief when she saw the barges come, filled to the brim with Pennsylvania anthracite. "Now there's a sight for sore eyes." She said, taking a few lumps in her jaws and downing them right then and there. "Someone's hungry." remarked Celtic. She too was a fresh arrival. Like Carpathia, she'd arrived early that morning. "If you'd run a 60 mile sprint, you'd be hungry too." Carpathia huffed. "About that, Baltic asked me to tell you she's grateful. You were the only one who had a chance of getting there." Celtic said. "Not in time though." Carpathia sighed, recalling vividly the sight of grief stricken Olympic. It was not something she wanted to see again, ever. "There was nothing more you could've done." Celtic reassured her. "I know that. I just, the things I saw..." A shudder ran through the Cunarder. "I hear ya Carpathia. Really I do. I've been saying it for years the rules need to change. We've been taking too many risks, doing things to quickly. Perhaps now they'll listen." "Rules are always written in blood. I just wish it didn't have to be so much. Not like this." Carpathia sighed. She sneezed as the dust from the coal rose up around her. "Oi, keep that out of the linen!" She growled. "Why have the linen on board? Don't ya normally have it off when you're taken on fuel?" Celtic asked. "Normalcy my stern!" Carpathia hissed. "Cunard wants me out of here by 16:00 no later. You'd think after a roundabout voyage, a fucking sprint, and playing nanny to 700 extra hungry mouths would earn me a rest but nooo!" Celtic couldn't help it, she started laughing. Carpathia glared but she couldn't help but laugh as well. They were probably the only two ships laughing in the entire harbor. "Thanks, I needed that." Celtic sniggered as they calmed down. "So did I." Carpathia agreed, briefly recalling what the dawn three days ago had revealed. She pushed that image away with a shudder, determined never to recall it again.
"So what was it like being a celebrity?" Celtic asked. Carpathia shuddered. "I hope never to go through that again." She replied. "Reporters have no sense of personal space whatsoever!" Dazelline in particular had been a real nuisance. A real pain that one. She should make reporting a full time gig. Too eager to remain on the sidelines, she'd recklessly pushed her way through the crowd of small craft and got too close to Carpathia, swapping paint with the Cunarder. Carpathia eyed the spot just aft of her bow in annoyance. Dazelline had been there for a dispatch that one of her boys had collected. Originally agreeing with her captain on keeping reporters from doing anything resembling their jobs, Carpathia was only all to glad to toss Dazelline her message in a bottle if only to get the little yacht out of her path. Though of course like sharks, if you feed one you feed them all. The rest quickly closed ranks even tighter after that and sometimes Carpathia had to give a little nudge to a few to get the point across that she liked her personal space!
"Celebrity, just another fancy word for shark chum." "I think you handled it pretty well, all things considered." Celtic remarked. "Ha!" Carpathia laughed. "Sure you don't wanna make it a full time gig." Celtic asked. Carpathia stared at her, horror in her eyes. "Me? A paparazzi girl? Over my dead body!" She snapped. Celtic just laughed again.