[Csjarrat]

Dunk seems a bit shaken, worried almost. Bits of twigs and leaves have gotten stuck in his greying hair and caught on the bits of his kit and clothing that stuck out. Slight scratches are visible under image enhancement on his forearms.
Sensing your interest, he pulls his sleeves down on his worn and slightly smelly khaki cover-alls.
He looked down the stairway at the boat.
Posh?! its a trawler mate, looks like its rigged up fer shellfish pots, crab or lobster probably.
It'll fecking stink ahaha. Anyways, we dunnae wanna be hangin' aroond the harbour before it sets sail. Them un's out there'll be comin' thro' the gate and mooring up, will be loads o' lads unloading em and such.
There's a conveniece store jus' up tha road I came doon, saw some venders outside. Ye might be able to grab a choccy biccy or bag o' crisps or summat, dunnae tek too long tho, we need te get aboard in next half hour really though pal.

[Scawire]

Once Knives asks to have the spirit turn off the mojo Mantis asks his spirit helper to do just that. Thanks for the help could you drop the concealment, and go on stand by I'll call you when you are needed again. With that the spirits will drops the cloaking around the group so everyone is visible. Ya a small snack would do good. I hope they don't start IDing you for soy bars.

[Lumen]

"You sure you're alright Dunk?  You look a mess."  Knives eyes him up and down.  After seeing his resolve during their escape from the East End it was hard to imagine what had him so shaken.

[Csjarrat]

Aye, yep. I'll be fine pal. Just need te get home now thass all. I'm Just gonnae tek a seat doon here whilst ye go shopping alreet? I'm knackered.

[Csjarrat]

Against your better judgement, your rumbly stomach leads you on down the street Dunk came from.
It was only a short walk but you find the convenience store, closed as expected, not due to open for at least another 4 hours.
Outside stood two vending machines, the larger of the two held all manner of useful stuff, washing up tablets, soyprocessor flavour caplets and soy/compressed krill powder refills, burner commlinks, automatic washer tablets and all the usual household bollocks you'd not needed in a while.
The second one caught your eye though, it held boxes of "chocolate" biscuits, bags of crisps, soy-bread, soy-milk, and served a small range of hot auto-cooked noodles and dispensed "fresh" soycaf.
After the day you'd had, it felt like all your christmases had come at once...

[Lumen]

Knives eyes grow wide and his stomach rumbles when he sees the vending machine jackpot.   He pulls a credstick from his coat pocket and loads up enough biscuits and crisps to fill the two front pockets of his greatcoat and some hot noodles and soykaf for himself.  *Perks of doin the hoofing, I get the warm meal.  It would get cold by the time I got back.*  He ponies up the euro for the snacks and heads back, scarfing down the noodles then moving on to the soykaf and another cigarette.

[Scawire]

Mantis is happy the store is closed the less French people he has to see before making his way back to the Old Smoke the better. Ever since his denial of smokes at the last store Mantis doesn't want to deal with many more French speakers. Looking over the selection in the machine he decides to grab some hot noddles with a nice teriyaki flavor pack and a few choclate biscuits in case they don't feed him on the boat. This time he was hoping to be awake for the boat trip, and his ork stomach would thank him for the food later. Last Mantis grabs a soycafe to help down the noddles. Mantis heads back to the waiting area drinking and eating well walking.

[Csjarrat]

____Both______

The noodles were pretty bland and flavourless, you didn't expect them to be amazing, but even by your low standards, you were disappointed. Either the flavour dispenser was empty or the owner was a tight bastard and had diluted the mix to increase his profit margin.
At least they were hot, dumping much needed warmth into your hands and body to fight against the onlsaught of the stiff northerly sea breeze.
The prospect of home bouyed your pace somewhat, and for a moment your injuries seemed to hurt less, the happy hormones released with the kick of the caffeine and sugars taking the edge off slightly.
You crossed the cobblestone market place, back into the full face of the breeze to see Dunk standing, hands on the railing, staring out over the inky blackness of the water.
He'd cleaned most of the twigs and such out of his hair now and seemed more at ease with himself.
Y'alreet lads? Listen, scran them quickly. We need te make a move te tha' boat 'fore the gate opens
Knives, pal, you take point as you've been up close already.
Fresh infiltration rolls please

[Scawire]

Mantis kills his smoke knowing it might be sometime before he gets another one. They he calls his Spirit friend from stand by. Ok Little buddy I'm going to need you to put all three of us under your concealment power until I say other wise. Hey bud you've been doing a great job so far. With the three runners under the concealment, Mantis does his best to sneak on to the docks undetected.

[Lumen]

"Sure thing mate, no problem.   You want some crisps before we go?  Last time I just took that boat to avoid the gate.  Would probably be our best bet but with my shoulder I might need a hand up."

Knives scarfs down some chocolate biscuits before taking them over to the boat he ventured out in last time.

[Csjarrat]

____Lumen____
Dunk nods and takes the bag, opening it and pouring most of it down his neck in three or four big takes, noisily crunching them down.
He seems a bit brighter for a bit of food;
Fuck, forgot how hungry I am. I'm gonnae have te get some proper scran when we're aboard. Tha' kebab feels like weeks ago.
Aye, tha' boat seems like a decent idea, Nae bother, we'll gi' ye a hand doon.


___Scawire____
As you wish. Thank you but the complement is unnecessary, I hope you stay safe, my companions have told me you like to live dangerously?

___Both___
You slink down to the dockside, using the railing and pools of shadow for cover from the office. Another lorry rumbles by as you're half way down, causing you to momentarily stop and listen.
Satisfied that no-one knew you were there, you covered the rest of the stair; knackered, aching and generally ready for bed.
Knives leads the way to the boat, Dunk offering to clamber in first to assist the two wounded down from the harbourside.
You clunk down heavily, rocking the tiny craft so hard you thought you'd end up in the harbour yourselves.
Dunk clearly had sea legs though, steadying the craft and seating the two of you at opposite ends of the tiny boat for stability.
We're gonnae need te' scuttle 'er as we board tha' trawler lads. Get ready te' blow a hole in 'er or summat
Untying the knot, he pushed away from the harbourside; the cold oily water sliding past the prow much nearer to overflowing now with the three of you in.
Dunk takes his seat and plonks the oars into the water, gently and quietly pulling at the inky blackness around the boat.
The harbour walls sheltered you from the worst of the wind, giving a nice respite from the buffeting cold you'd had at the top of the stair lined cliffside.
You felt more alive for a bit of food and a coffee and took a look around you, judging the line of sight from the harbourmasters office
It was going to be tight as you rounded the last of the large powerboats, and you could definitely be seen as you covered the last few metres up to the hull of "La Mer Genereuse"
Figuring there was fuck all you do about it, you just summed up that you'd have to be quick.

Dunk held the boat at a point just round the stern of the last of the powerboats, a gin palace by all suitable descriptions. The back of it seemed to be a launch bay for a jet-ski and its two decks visible above the water line  comprised of an expensively attired eating area and sun deck complete with sun-loungers and drinks holders. You wondered at what kind of wealth you'd need to own a bit of kit like that. probably more wealth than all of the fricking east end put together.
He rummaged around in his kit and pulled out a torch, flashing a signal of some sort at the empty-looking bridge of the rumbling craft.
Alreet, lets go. We've got te' be quick here lads, be ready
He slammed the oars in, hard and the tiny boat accelerated far more quickly than you thought possible. Dunk groaned at the exertion, crossing the demarcation line that separated the commercial traffic from pleasure craft.
He hoped it wasn't monitored but within seconds, you were alongside the rusted and barnacle encrusted hull. Within a second, a netting rig was slung over the side, clanging heavily against the cold metal of the hull.
This climb was gonna hurt, a lot.
Climbing test at +2 for assisted. Teamwork test is applicable too

[Scawire]

On the sneaking walk down to the boat Mantis decides to small talk his spirit. Ya it get into some dicey situations from time to time, but I do make a small amount of money for doing it so I keep going it. See I got a bloody wound on my leg but hey it was worth it.

When Mantis sees he has to climb a net he starts to visualize himself falling into the cold water below. Seeing that he has Dunk and Knives to aid his climb he is happy that he has a small team of runners to aid him. Mantis takes a breath then bears down knowing this climb is going to hurt his leg for sure but he planed to push through any pain and keep going no matter what.

[Lumen]

Knives' drags his tired arse up the net despite the pain and engages his gecko gloves.  He winces in pain but pushes through and offers a hand up to the lads.  *It fuckin hurts but these poor moppets can't climb for shite.  Man up.*

[Csjarrat]

___ Scawire____
it hurt every but as much as you thought it would, but after a minute of pure agony, a thick and tattooed arm appeared over the side, swiftly followed by a grizzled looking face. he said something you didn't understand and offered his arm as he realises you're pretty wounded. His powerful muscles clamp around your arm, and he grunts and groans as he pulls you over the lip of the net and onto the cold metal deck.
You lie facing the broken cloud layer above you, patchily uplift a mucky orange from the street lights of the town as you wait for the burning pain in your leg to subside enough for you to roll over and attempt to stand.

____lumen____
gimmae yer knife a sec pal, need te scuttle her.
You feel Dunk grab at the hilt of the longer fine blade as you clamber up the netting, grasping it and slamming it into the joint of the bottom rear aspect of the rower a couple of times. Quickly climbing the net, he grips the blade in his teeth like something out of a pirate trid.
The grizzled face dragged Mantis up and over the top and enthusiastically did the same for you, nearly dislocating your good shoulder in the process. You land in a heap on top of Mantis' chest, too knackered and out of breath to really do anything about it. You both begin to laugh at the ridiculous situation and also because of the sheer relief of being on the boat and surviving another fucking ordeal.


____both___
Dunk and the deckhand help you to your feet as the deckhand gestures towards a hatch cut into the deck.
Knives slots his fine blade back into its sheath and follows Mantis's lead through the heavy metal hatchway.
It was badly lit inside and stunk of a heady mix of diesel, fish and sweaty blokes.
A short stairway took you onto the first floor below deck and another deckhand in waterproofs appears from the right, gesturing at you to follow him. He mutters something in a foreign language and points you to a rancid smelling small bunk room and gestured that the bunks were for you to kip in before leaving you to your own devices.

[Csjarrat]

Dunk wrinkles his nose against the smell as he enters the tiny room.
well I guess they wants us te' keep our wee heads down. I wouldn't getting me head doon wi' 'er though eh?! he said, gesturing at the AR image of a stunning looking redhead posing and winking provocatively from the ceiling above you.
Judging by the grubby and worn trid chips stacked up on the side unit, winking wasn't all she did.
Personal effects of the deckies lay about the room, cliched and unimaginitive, it gave a brief view into their world. Epaper magazines showed graphic porno, lads doing stupid shit whilst pilled up and the highlight reels from footy games and the Europa bike racing league.
Dunk clambered up onto the top right bunk and kicked his boots off, making the rancid smell even worse.
The deckie returned with a first aid kit and a tray of sweet smelling tea. His accent was thick and Slavic, reminding you of the Russian dockers the vory lads brought over to "handle" sensitive shipments back in the east end.
You stay, you quiet. No leave, ok?
Leaving the tray on the cluttered side unit, he shut the heavy door and you hear the grinding of metal on metal as the locking mechanism closes.