[ The things she's found herself doing for money. No, wait. For love. Because that's what this is about! Finding the flower for those lonely people whose hearts are full of hope for finding a partner! ]

It's romantic, it is~! [ A soft, happy sigh, and she brings a mitten-covered hand to a cheek, which is as rosy as her nose in this frigid air. Rem is not unfamiliar with trekking through dangerous, icey landscapes-- quite the opposite, as the final days of the war were on the foreign, frigid ground of the Empire. That doesn't make it less unpleasant, though, as the winter storm appears to be gradually turning into a squall. This very same crescendo of sleet and snow is something she appears to blissfully ignore for the moment (or maybe, intentionally seek, because there's something about these flowers being more beautiful during storms, right?). Nevertheless, through chattering teeth and over howling wind, she speaks cheerily to whomever has decided to join her. Hopefully, you're appropriately bundled up! ] Offer a rare winter flower to your loved one!

[ As for the whole "love charm" thing about it? She doesn't believe it's real. No doubt, it's more about the journey, the tradition of giving something rare and precious to someone hopeful to win another's affection!  Seeing as not everyone on the leviathans are equipped to brave the snow, Rem is glad to take up this quest for any and all locals who wish to acquire a flower. There is no price too low that she won't agree upon to take up this task. It means that there will be bountiful amounts of adoration, affection, and love this month, and who wouldn't want to help others out with that? ] Oh! Oh, we should gather as many as we can, we should. No heart should be alone.

[ Helping others find love is a very important, very noble cause that completely justifies the risk of being frozen, frostbitten, and turned into human popsicles. Okay? Okay. Hopefully, they make it to the field and back before things get worse or if not, there is a cabin somewhere to take refuge in later. ]

 ...There it is. [ It's you, Rem, and the two of you are on the outside of a schooner's stern, hanging onto ropes that you've both hooked over the back railing. Through one of the windows is a room with a chest in it, dazzling, silken fabric spilling out of its contents. Even through the thick pane of the glass, it's far more luxurious and expensive than any material she's ever seen shimmering as if it's been woven from the swirls of sparks and the shimmers of crystals.  Odd, really. Why would anyone dare steal from a corsair in the first place? Especially a rich and powerful one with even more corsairs at his disposal. Rem wouldn't dare test stirring the elites of Nogard like that.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she carefully tests the handle of the window. On a ship as old as this one, it's rusted through, making it easy to jostle to break the lock and open outward. It's more noise than she'd want, and so with a nod in your direction, she slips inside the chamber first. It might have been an easy heist of the fabric if not for how the door inside the ship opens right at the same moment, a woman clad in the same gorgeous material enters, and Rem accidentally knocks right into her, knocking her to the ground.

"Please-- no. I'm not going back, take... take everything else, please!"

A panicked, stricken plea erupts from the woman, yet despite her protest, her voice is fearful enough to be reduced to a mere, cowering whisper. The woman has barely enough fight in her as it is, yet she struggles against the one who's crashed into her with blistered, scarred hands grabbing for anything to use against the corsair.

 In the commotion, Rem's head snaps up. Surprise, sudden understanding, then disgust crosses her expression in quick succession. ]

...What...?

[ OOC: if you're a paladin, Rem can run into you as the seamstress' guard. ]

[ Starlight ripples over the waves like candles beneath black silk, refracting enough light for sailors or the late beach-strollers alike to make out shillouetes of rocks, trees, piers, or other people, but not enough to reveal details beyond shadows. Those who venture upon the shores of Nogard or Eltrut far past midnight may find themselves in the presence of unwanted company, a company whose presence is known only by way of song. A melody carries over the shore, slow and soft and as solemn as a lullaby sung to one already dead. The words-- for indeed, there are words-- are nonsensical, melting into an abstract hymn, diction almost but never quite right, pitch never resolving...

And then the voice stops.

Walk a few more paces around the crest of the cove, and you will see a hooded figure standing at the shore. Should you have a torch, you may see how the figure's cloak is red... and that there is nothing at her feet, no corpse of a siren, no other creature, but a pool of blood, perhaps some blanched coral on the nearby tidepool. There, she stands silently, hand to her chest as a wave comes and laps over her boots, washing the fine spray of red, warm iron from them and the sandy shore.

She coughs once into her hand, noticing you. ] Who...? Ah-- [ A worried look crosses her expression as she greets you, and she quickly takes down her hood, gesturing to her ear to show the soft, cotton plugs she's placed in them. While they don't eliminate all noise, they've proven useful.  ] It's dangerous here, it is. There are [ What are they called again? ] sirens. You might need to cover your ears.  

[ What a terrible one it is. Besides the nightmares that may plague a victim, the curse leaves many with little time and even less energy due to lack of sleep. Starting their search up the volcano is imperative. ]

When we were allowed access to the archives, I read that there were other relics like the tombstone from that one ship. Maybe this curse is caused by another relic...? If so, we're looking for something with a script similar to this on it. [ She'll show a picture on her device of the tombstone's mysterious, obscure markings on it. It's illegible, but the handwriting is unique enough to be distinct from other scripts. ]

[ Fortunately, even if they don't find a relic than can help, there's something that can help mitigate the curse. Smelling salts-- which they might be able to find in the sulfur fields. ]

Okay, but... [ You're on Rem's brand new ~small yacht~. Not to worry, you also have some rented fishing equipment on board. Maybe some snacks, because there's no such thing as a fishing trip ] If jellyfish can also "hear" in some strange way [ They would have to, wouldn't it? Because it apparently can also sing, and typically one sings "angelically" when they also have excellent hearing and tone. ] and we use this [ What does she pull out from a satchel but a violin she had received from the Fey Fighters quest the previous month. ] ...we can make it fall asleep.

It'll have to surface then, won't it?

[ There is the potion. There is you. And there is her.

When she had been alive, there had been no shortage of the good faculty doctor conducting his experiments and assessments on Class 0. But this is. Hm. The healer said it would be fine. And they are a healer, and she's trying to stay on any healer's good side.  (Also there's the sequel to the book, soooo.) ]

...Uhm.... [ She fidgets in her chair. ] ...You first?