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Yesterday's arrival was fairly eventful, all things considered. And today, Alphonse was to be expecting another boat... or, well, he should have gotten one today. He had recieved a note tapped out in Morse earlier this afternoon, but now... it was already night. Darkness has fallen over the island, and Alphonse is sitting at the edge of the dock, struggling to stay awake and not give up in frustration and take the long walk back home.

And it was very tempting, too. It was cold, he was alone, and it was a safe guess that if the ship hadn't arrived by now then it probably would have sunk. Just as he's about to get up and leave, he spots a light off in the distance. Oh, is that it? Standing up, the surgeon puts a hand to his brows to shield his eyes - the light was very bright, and pointing directly at him like a spotlight. He sticks up his arm to wave towards the dock, damning the boat for being so late.

It gradually gets closer and closer, until the ship bumps clumsily against the wood and docks, groaning loudly as it does so. Yawning heavily, Alphonse helps the tired sailors lower the ramp.

Ages and ages, it had been, since Barnabas Woolfe had last set foot on ground that was not rocking or creaking or leaking with salt water. As most did, when confronted with such a miserable excuse for a boat, Barnabas had learned to dispise the thing, and wondered what romance young couples saw in a dinky little row boat or, heaven help them, sailors in their rickety.... things.

Still, appearances must be upheld. So, Barnabas Edward Woolfe attempted to look as pleasant as he could in damp clothing and close spaces and dirty sailors. He had even managed to abstain from the alcoholic gift he'd planned for the good Doctor. He'd even held off on his personal supply.

Well, except for a n** or two. But a man needed help sometimes, to keep up appearances.

Still, when the sailors announced that their goal was in sight, Barnabas couldn't help an exultant smile. And after all, another sip as soon as he was above deck was only celebratory.

The older, chubbier man followed Blaine off of the ramp as soon as it was fit to walk on, his gift under his arm and, as per usual during the horrid, damp sea air, not smoking. What he wouldn't give for good, dry tobacco.

((Umm- I'll be posting on this account until Barnabas gets accepted to the guild. x3;; ))

Blaine made his slightly unsteady way down the plank, still feeling as though his head was well wrapped in cotton wool. But he saw the doctor and grinned anyway. Nodding, he stepped onto the ground, glad beyond belief to have solid ground that didn't bob beneath his feet.

He gave the doctor a nod and replied, in his broad accent.

"Nice tae meet yae docktur, the name's Blaine Firth." he said "Never bin mair glad tae get mah feet oan solid grun, hope ah kin be of use tae yir project."

he offered a hand of greeting before adding. "An ah kin understaun', this ungodly 'oor is nae time tae be awake."

It was only then he get a chance to meet the other passenger who had been on ship. He didn't say anything just yet though, just listened to see if he could catch his name.

Finally, a crowd that isn't a complete pain for Alphonse to deal with -- the fact that these two men are very pleasant make up for the fact that the boat is ridiculously late.

"It's very pleasant meeting you both, sirs," the surgeon says, suppressing a yawn, "To be honest, I've completely lost track of time. It was too dark for me to check my pocketwatch, speaking of..." After shaking both of the men's hands, he reaches into the pocket of his vest and flips open the watch under candlelight. Staring at it, he blinks blearily and snaps it shut, putting it away.

"Confound it all," the man groans. "Ten at night? I should be in bed." And damn, that pang of hunger was starting to get annoying. He hadn't eaten dinner yet. He rubs his eyes again, lazily quirking his brows at the gift Barnabas offers him. He holds out both hands to accept the box, not wanting to risk dropping it in his current state of tiredness.

"Oh, thank you, good sir," he smiles, "I will enjoy this spirit to the fullest."

Looking off towards the boat and those on board clinging to their candles, Alphonse realizes that he'll be needing a candle himself on the walk back -- there is no way in Hell that he'd willingly traverse the jungle at night. He clumsily walks up the ramp to ask for an unlit candle and a small box of matches, where the captain obliges his request.

"Ah, sir," pipes up one of the sailors as Moreau is on board, "we have a small animal cargo, too. Just two, though. We'll take care of it, though."

"Good, thank you," Alphonse replies, stumbling back down the ramp with a candle in his hand, the box tucked under his arm, and the pack of matches in his pocket.

"So, men," Moreau says, recomposing himself, "are you both ready to take a long hike to your new homes and get some well-earned rest in a real bed? -- Oh, and please do not forget to get your belongings off of the boat if you brought any."

"Ah! I knew I had forgotten something. I'll be right back." With that, Barnabas walked briskly back up the plank and below deck to retrieve his own meager belongings. (because really, how much must one take when one is going to live on an island?)

He reappeared holding his case of belongings in one hand, and another case of a different (admittedly alcoholic) sort in the other.

"A bed, a bed," He sing-songed with a smile once he was on ground again. "I'm tempted to say I've never heard a sweeter word. Let us not dally here any longer than necessary."

Blaine followed quietly behind the doctor, heeding his words so as not to go astray into the jungle. A jungle!, he never thought he'd ever see the like, never venturing outside his own urban jungle he called home. Tonight he'd probably have just finished up whatever he was reading and turned in for the night were he at home. He felt like a child again as they made their way through the greenery, faint sounds playing on the edge of hearing that reminded Blaine of older and more dangerous things than men that were reputed to live there. He almost wished he hadn't read so extensively on jungle life before heading here.

As for food, that was of no concern to him at the moment, hungry as he was, the excitment took precedent. He'd have something in the morning no doubt.

"Ahm no hungry meself, still a bit seasick tae tell the truth."

His case was heavier than he remembered when he carried it to the boat, though that was probably just a result of the awkward terrain.

As the three draw nearer to the jungle, the cacophony of nocturnal life becomes louder. The chirping of countless insects and the cries of unidentifiable animals punctuate the darkness, parted only by the surgeon's lone candle that he holds out in front of himself. The ground is somewhat moist with a few stray leaves and branches poking out. Alphonse is careful not to let the candle catch any of these.

"Suit yourselves," Alphonse says, "I, personally, am tempted to go into the stables and eat that damned horse that's been there. Rabbit does get tiring after a while, I suppose, and I have had a deep lust for red meat lately..." He chuckles and shakes his head, continuing up the path.

Oh, if only Alva were there to hear that! The thought makes Alphonse laugh out loud. The damned woman provides such entertainment...

"Oh, yes," he chirps, glancing over his shoulder for a brief moment, "I already have charges in mind for you both. But they will not be assigned until the morrow, once we are all rested." However, for this brief moment, Alphonse doesn't watch his step and stumbles backwards, almost bumping into Blaine. "Confound it!" The man cries, throwing out the arm holding the candle for balance and regaining his footing, "My apologies."

"Assignment, hm? Now that's one thing I can't wait to do!" It would be, after all, the beginning of something quite interesting. A good change.

Thanks to his stubborn decision to stare straight ahead, Barnabas was not quite as paranoid as Blaine, but then again, this was his frist time in a jungle, so he was not as easy acting as Doctor Moreau. Who seemed to be laughing. What an odd man.

Barnabas thought he might like him. "A horse, you say? Catch me when I haven't had my lunch, and I might join you."

He was, however, quite surprised by the doctor's stumble, and Blaine's jumpiness convinced him to skitter back a step or three before controlling himself, his eyes widening themselves behind his glasses.

"Oh my. I take it you're alright?"