"Will all great Neptune's Ocean"

The Dean peers out at the oily black waves of the zea. He has temporarily left his suite at the Royal Beth and now resides in his decommissioned steamer.

Standing on the deck, he stares out at the zea. His eyes seem to darken somewhere between Peligin and Apocyan.

&quotWash the blood clean from my hand?&quot

He stares now at his palm, and in his eyes are reflected the violant glow of his weeping scar.

&quotNo, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine making the green on red.&quot

He closes his hand into a fist and leans against the ship’s rail. He stays there for a time, until his reverie is broken by a muted ear-breaking song. He smiles.

&quotI should go water the plants.&quot

He turns around and disappears back belowdecks.

The Dean will be leaving soon. After next month’s exceptional story, he will depart on a zea voyage of an unknown,but significant, length. He’ll return eventually, but it’s hard to say how his travels will change him. In the meanwhile, as I send Dean around the internet, Anne Oak shall begin to catch trace of her quarry. By the time the Dean returns, she will be ready for him.
edited by Dean Lee on 7/16/2016

OOC: trying to think of goals/method for this exile. Do I aim to raise nightmares to an insane degree? Get lost in research? On that matter do I ever go to port or only constantly sail?

[OOC: Personally, I recommend forking over your mind and body to SCIENCE!, as other fields of/in zee-travel are already occupied or of interest to myself.]
edited by Vavakx Nonexus on 7/16/2016

/* ooc: I wonder… 10,000 of each kind of research? Could be a good goal that would cover both madness, a search for answers, and a desire for peace of mind/recovering his burnt mind. */

OOC: And money.

OOC: Mutate your character horribly at the iron Republic.

OOC: That’ll sometimes be taken by yours truly, and I do not wish to find the Throne of Change occupied by another husk of insanity and anarchy.
edited by Vavakx Nonexus on 7/17/2016

The Dean stands in his zub’s observation deck. He has become thin and pale, and stands with hunched shoulders. Yet his eyes gleam bright, and his mouth quirks up in what could almost be called a smile. What secrets of vitality and the soul did he learn?

He directs the helmsman to set sail for London, a bat has arrived informing him of some goings on with revolutionaries. It is time for a brief reprieve from research.

The Dean has collected 10,000 pages of theosophical notes! He will return to London to complete this month’s exceptional story before heading back out to zea.
edited by Dean Lee on 7/30/2016