"I'm Mime!" his mask was black and white, a star over one eye and a straight stroke over the other. His hair matched with a deep black shade.

"I'm Pierrot!" a pink-haired boy had a mask with one eye closed-- a red nose, a wide smile.

"I'm Jester!" a red-haired boy had a mask that mirrored the other red-nosed boy's.

"And this is..." they began together, swirling around extra flamboyantly as they spun to reveal a blond girl hidden behind them-- "Pirouette!" 

The girl was smaller than Visul-- her hair was tied high into drills, and two black diamond-shaped designs painted over her eyes on her mask. 

"We're the Clown Quarto!" Mime laughed, "well, not really, we just happened to like the same masks and all... Pirouette here's the newest addition to our ship! She's a quiet one, but she's adorable!"

Cross' eyes sparkled at the sight of the four. He thought they were incredibly cool, what with the whole superhero introduction and all-- are those two reflections? Awesome! Why's his hair pink and the other one red? 

Pirouette was meek and quiet-- her expressions were unreadable behind the full mask she wore-- but as Cross took a closer look, he found emerald green eyes peeking through those eyeholes, curious and interested-- and Cross instantly knew he liked her.

"Wanna see some magic?" Pierrot with pink hair teased, stretching his right hand out--

"How about this for magic?" Jester with red hair laughed, snapping his fingers and popping a bouquet of flowers in his hands, shattering them into a deck of cards.

Pierrot reached over, snatched the Joker Card right out of the air as if he knew where it was-- spun it around his fingers-- "Voila!" he produced a candy into his palm.

Cross was so happy, "CoooOOOLL!!"

"GAOoo!" Leer cheered on Cross' head.

Pierrot gave Cross the candy, which the boy more than happily took. The mirroring clowns enjoyed the boy's childish reactions very much. 

  ー  

Mime climbed up to the observation deck, where he found Takara crouched down at the side, watching the sea. The crow's nest wasn't the most spacious place to be, but the two had enough area to slouch, legs hanging over the edge as they sighed.

"You're Mime, right?" Takara responded, "to identify yourself as a clown, now that's a strange alias to keep."

Mime laughed at that blunt statement, "well, it just ended up happening."

The wind blew strong, rustling, hair flying in a speed about blistering as hair hit against face. It was almost laughable how windy it was up here.

"Hey," Mime spoke up again, with hesitation this time.

Takara clenched a fist, feeling the mood drop. There was no light-hearted humour in his tone. He didn't like it when happy people decide to be serious. It unnerved him.

"What?" Takara forced a casual reply.

"No one's asked about those metal parts on your body yet, have they?" Mime inquired.

Takara looked to his knees. His fingers were human-- and he wore long sleeves-- but the metal at his vertebral spine was impossible to hide unless he wore a turtleneck sweater or something. 

Regardless, everyone had seen it when they took a bath yesterday, so...

"Yeah, I appreciate it," Takara laughed slightly, nervous. 

He was a human half metal. As much as he loved to ignore it, people loved to point it out. Even Takara couldn't fully explain the depths of his body now-- people's questions only cornered him.

"They're distracted by it way too much to notice," Mime laughed, "they don't ask things like that, y'know?"

Mime lifted his mask. He was a man nearly Takara's age-- deep brown eyes-- and a scar across his left cheek, dangerously surrounding his eye in the shape of an X. 

Takara eyed his features. His face remained blank and stoic-- Mime laughed as he saw Takara's unchanging expressions.

"What, are you disappointed I don't look like your expectations?"

"What's this, all of a sudden," Takara squirmed, almost uncomfortable, grinning like he was about to leap off in a game of tag, "you look like you're about to blabber some devastating sob story!"

"How rude!" Mime whined, "well, don't ask me. You just make me comfortable to be 'round, for some reason."

"Oh, really?" Takara sighed. 

"Your hair is the colour of rust," Mime pointed out, "not red, not brown, but the shade between it and maroon."

Takara instinctively reached up to his hair, surprised by the sudden acclamation.

"Well," Mime sighed, "it reminds me of a friend who died a long time ago."

Takara stood up, "geez, you're such a sap!" he laughed, placing a gentle hand on Mime's shoulder, choking on a hearty laugh, "well, I'm not your late comrade, so-- I'm Takara!"

Mime seemed almost conflicted or hurt-- or maybe he had unintentionally hurt Takara with his careless words-- 

With only a smile and a handshake, they both laughed.

"Well, I'm Mime! Nice to meet you, Takara."

  ー  

"See, you grind them like this--" Jester ground some herbs on a stone mortar, crushing them to bits and paste-- "these herbs are useful on burn wounds. Those over there are for infections, and those for bruises. Never ingest them, they're poisonous!"

Visul watched with flourished interest.

They hung around in the small infirmary, Visul crouched over the desk as Jester worked on grinding medicine and fitting them into small boxes for future use.

"Well, these are common herbs, so you should remember how they look," Jester told her, putting down the cob and reaching for a book on the bookshelf, "here, you can have this."

Visul took the book-- it was red, a book about medicinal herbs-- an encyclopedia, it seemed. Pictures, preparation methods, notes, it had everything-- was this Jester's personal book?

"I can?" she was delighted.

"Sure, you can take some others if you want," Jester offered with a shrug, his mask over his head and his strange grey eyes eyeing Visul with meager pride, "you're the first student I've had in a while! Right, Pirouette?"

Pirouette sat on the bed, nodding promptly.

"Jester's boring," she mumbled, "so no one wants to listen to him."

"Hey!" Jester snapped.

"I'm the doctor!" Visul spoke up excitedly, the plea in her voice and the anticipation in her eyes, "but I still don't know anything more than just patching up wounds. Will you teach me, Jester?"

Jester was taken aback-- how long had it been?

He wasn't the ship's only doctor, but how long has it been since someone came up to him asking for advice like a discipleship? This was a first in ages!

"Of course!" Jester smiled, taking the girls hands so preciously, "I'll teach you everything I can!"

  ー  

"Hey, Cap'n Grizzly," Masquerade spoke to her captain from behind the door, "you've been quiet. Is something up?"

The Captain's quarters were in the base below the deck-- Grizzly was usually a boisterous man that set the life of the ship. There were visitors around, why wasn't he enjoying it out with them?

The door crunched open-- there Captain Grizzly was, smiling. His smile was huge and goofy, his eyes were happy.

His room was dim, with a sofa, a worktable and a decent bed. A large window spread out over the front, for ship watching purposes.

"I'm the enjoying the view in the window," he explained, "for last time's sake, y'know."

Masquerade's expressions fell soft.

"I see," she whispered. 

"I'm sorry I had you guys on with me for so long, y'know?" Grizzly chortled, "and all of a sudden I'm the one that's calling it first--"

"Shhh," she chuckled, placing a finger at his lips, "we all understand. It's about time, anyways, we can't really help it!"

The two smiled at each other almost dearly--

To the left wall of the room, wanted posters were taped to the wall, neatly in line, filling the whole wall-- 

Grizzly, a bandit; Masquerade, a terrorist; perhaps there were more in there harder to see through-- but nearly everyone in the ship had one of their faces up on that wall.

"We know you're doing it for us," Masquerade promised, "we've thought it through and decided to follow with your choice, so don't worry a thing."