Fantasy ▽Journey to Lost city of Vesi▽ [clsd]

[Nobody_314]

Patricia​

Down the hall of the ship, the scurrying creature easilly outmaneuvered it's sudden assailant and found refuge on the small man's shoulder. She looked down at this strange walking fish as it began to hopelessly wander around the others in search for her. In a few moments however, it did seem to catch wind of her and propped itself up on Flynyas' leg. She paid it no mind and slinked over to his other shoulder. The stature of her current seat did not provide much distance away from the upstretched fish-thing than she would prefer.

Flynyas​

As Flynyas eyed the deck, he too took in that Beaux was not present. Likely in their mad ravings they had either kept overboard or secluded away in the deeper holds of the ship. For the former, the species they hailed from seemed aquatic to some extent, so probably fine. For the latter, surely they would stumble back up eventually or someone would find them when going down for supplies. All in all, he had fixed the body, but there was nothing he could do for the mind. That would have to work out itself, and he would do his best to fix however they injured themselves along the way.

As they stood in wait, he was approached by the fish creature/familiar of Anziium. It appeared that Anziium had gone against doctor's orders not to exert himself further with magics that obviously put great stress on him... and went through with resummoning the familiar. To an extent, he could not blame him though.
He chuckled as the creature propped itself up on him, causing Patricia to bristle and retreat to his other shoulder. He himself knew very well how lonely it can be without a companion.

He stood patiently looking out over the water as Zephriel buzzed around the others in interrogation about Beaux. When the mad fish-man did make his appearance, with a raised brow he noted that for the most part they seemed sane... at least at this moment. But the dried blood suggests they had been digging at their bandages. The wound would likely have to be recleaned and bandaged later or else it would get infected. Joyous-

All in all, rather than get in between the raging Seraphi and the potentially deranged fish-man, Flynyas stood in wait for what the peculiar stowaway had to say next. Like before... They seemed pure in intention, but he was not yet sold on the "fate" driven nature of their arrival.

 

[Juju]

Zephriel (calm)​

"No, you may not address us all!" Zephriel snapped, rounding on the puffy haired sugar puff with a glare strong enough to sour milk, "You have not even the faintest idea what we have all just gone through so be silent and stay out of this!"

When she turned to Beaux her wings raised up, haunching up around her shoulders and curving outwards. After all the hopeless searching she was relieved to see him, but if anything it only made the anger burn brighter. How dare he do this to her, and after everything that had happened in Infinite? "You amphibious fool! You think this is funny? You think you can just play stupid?"

"What is going on? I had to amputate your arm in the dead of night while you sputtered out some eldritch babblings... and this was AFTER you had threatened to poison me!" Zephriel hissed, holding up her hands in loose fists and gesturing broadly towards the missing arm. "You are lucky Flynyas was here, otherwise the procedure could have very well killed you! Do you understand? Then you wake up, not understanding a single thing of what we say, and start scrawling some sun-forsaken language. And as soon as I leave to get some answers you completely vanish! I looked all over the ship! For all we knew you could have stumbled overboard and drowned! Then you have the absolute audacity to ask me 'what is going on'!"

While her tongue was sharp, the corner of her eyes gleamed with wetness. She was furious, yes, but fear lay just below it. The events at Infinite had shook her to the very core, and the disappearance of Beaux had caused an additional and unnecessary panic. To make it worse, the others had not seemed to take her concerns seriously, which only deepened her frustration. How could they all be taking this so well? She was NOT crazy! This was serious!

 

[TheCrowKing]

Biel

Why did they run from him?​

All Biel had wanted was to play with the fluffy creature that had skittered atop deck. He certainly didn't know what it was, but he wanted to play with them none the less. As it was now though, it appeared as though the squirrel would have none of it. Pudgy body wobbling atop equally dumpy hindlegs, the fish creature gave what could only assumed to have been a jump to get at Patricia, but uh....that jump was more a bounce than anything. He didn't make any progress in reaching her, no help to the halfling he had his inky toebeans pressed against for leverage. A huffed whine escaped them as they slinked off the healer's side, circling around towards the other shoulder where the tree squirrel spat him.

Anzi​

Before the chubby blob of disaster could lower himself into a playful stance, his none-too-happy master had already scooped him up. And under the arm he went, nestled like a football against his ribs, a grip strong enough that he wouldn't go slipping about for more trouble caused. "Thanks for holding him-" He muttered curtly, twenty different flavors of fend up layering his tone. And another one added once he spat the troublesome creature's prints smack dab on the side of Flynny's clothes. With a tired pinching of the bridge of his nose, he exhaled a sigh that quite frankly should have been a scream. "I'll...If you just drop those off at my room before we reach the port at some point and I'll scrub them. I'm sorry, I wasn't watching him and apparently I should have-"

 

[bonesbo]

BEUX

Beaux stepped back away from Zephriel as she approached. While his posture didn't indicate any sort of shame, he could not meet her eyes beyond the lenses of his red goggles. At the gesture to his arm, his head did turn away further, his right hand further settling to cover his bandaged shoulder. His gaze rested on the rushing waters out on the horizon. Something held his tongue.

"Aye. Ta•Kaaeu' kee'tlo•eu. I dinnae ken what's gaun on..." He whispered. He raised his hand to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose with intense rushes to the head. "Ye be whistlin in ma ear laek te ringen in mae head, pinnc metvam." Beaux groaned again and stepped back even further as insanity knocked within his skull. "Can ye-! Stahp yer blabbering!" He said, even though Zephriel had since finished talking.

"Mah... brain.... isnae keen," Beaux started with a slow intensity, growing more and more aggravated. "A've hud multiple traumas in far tae short a time. On tap o' that, A've awready bin categorized as insane by many." He cackled a bit too long at that. "Mah heid is pounding, mah entire body is rejecting whit ah hud dane tae masellf. If mah heid doesn't explode fae internal pressure, it'll be a miracle if yer screeches dinnae rupture any mair blood vessels! Ah think- if yi'll waant tae remain dray, ye'll dae bloody weel tae shut yer pie gahbbler 'n' let th' fluffy un speak. Thay seem tae be mair mature than ye at th' moment let alone thaim bein' a bairn. Teaa•k`ulu`okap' luut!" Beaux said in exasperation. He stepped closer and closer to Zephriel as he spoke, gesticulating precisely.

He stopped. Exhaled. Then, with shut eyes, put his hand out in a loose flattened gesture towards her. "We're stuck oan a miserable boat. Let's at least hae some tranquility while we recover 'n' set tae our neist destination. Faem thare, we kin decide if we wantae rip each ither apairt, or perr'haps leaf. Aye?" He opened his eyes, his gaze instead finding Anziium first before eventually meeting Zephriel.

"Aye... down't... knoe.... whaet happenet. Aye down't knoe, whas go'an on. or whae will happen. Aye? So. Perrhaps... We leh someone... that saems to knoe. Explain. Thaire plans. Aye?" Beaux took time to over enunciate in as much as a neutral accent as he could, partially out of spite of Zephriel's sophistication. He pointed directly at Nostarion as he finished speaking.

 

[Juju]

Zephriel (still calm) sheppard bonesbo
Zephriel's face was painted with a light red as she glared furiously at the mechanic. Her arms were held tightly to her sides, hands flexed into quivering fists and nails digging into her palms. Her glare only deepened at his attempt to calm her down, her lips tightening as he motioned at her, as if calming down an unruly pegasi. Her nose crinkled in disgust. Surely everything that had gone wrong was because of this amphibious idiot. If he hadn't had that outburst down in Infinite they could have made it out with Magen. If he didn't fight them he would have his stupid arm! He should have been the one left in that cursed cave!

"No.. no you do not have the right to say that! I can't believe you! Tear each other apart? Were you not the one who attacked Magen and I in Infinite, or have you conveniently forgot that as well? Must I remind you why you lost your stupid arm in the first place! Stop pretending you have no idea what is going on!"

Zephriel stomped her foot on the deck in anger, her chest rising and falling with each breath. There was an overbearing desire to strike the mechanic across his face, so she turned her back to Beaux, arms tightly crossed and her wings twitching irritably. No longer did she give Beaux even half a glance. Instead, she looked pointedly at Nostarion. "Just spit out what you want to say already. I do not wish to be in his presence any longer than I absolutely need to."

 

[bonesbo]

BEAUX (reaction) Juju sheppard

"Ah warned ye. Ah didnae attack ye! Ye wur in th' wey o' mah progress. Interpret that as ye lik'. Mental or nae, ah wasnae boot tae lose mah mynd. Flesh is expendable. Ye wur in th' wey!" Beaux seemed to roll his eyes. "Mae mynd isnae praesent but Ah do beh sharp." Beaux released a shaky sigh before sitting down straight onto the deck, then flopping onto his back. "Goe 'head an teel yur storay, Sparklae un."

 

[sheppard]

NOSTARION

Nostarion stood passively to the side as the vehement pink and blue forces opposed each other. Their ears perking and subsequently falling back each time they were referenced or looked to or gestured at. A couple times their hand went out in the "wait" motion to try to interject, but their voice was easily consumed by the shrills and yells.
By the time Beaux flopped down, their face was filled with a darkened color, their ears set back in an aggressive point. Their fists clutched at their sides, a faint cloud of vibrating sparkles emitting from their closed palm.

"Okay! If you're finally done your harsh mouthing!" They exclaimed with a shrill squeak in their voice. "If you don't mind, this is what I was trying to avoid!" On mind, they stomped their foot for emphasis. "I was sent here to guide you peacefully and safely through your passage of time and passage of feats and strength!" When trying to raise their voice, it only grew higher in pitch and squeaked on "strength" as they struggle the word out, their eyes shutting as they spoke. Their shoulders winced at that squeak.

They took a second and opened their eyes with a deep breath. Then, with a shake of the head and shake of their hands, they released strain from their body. "OKAY!" They announced, unnecessarily loud.

They poofed away from the deck, over to the helm of the ship, where they stood on the navigation table with a more confidence and Captain-esque stance. "Listen up, Crew of Mercury! I am Nostarion!" They put their fist to their chest, "Successor of Captain Gellis of the Icen Seas! I hail from far North to guide your crew on a Fateful journey through the wicked trials and tribulations of mortal-kind, for the gain of knowledge and eventual release of the long hidden and dead culture of the Pioneers of the Waters and Worlds! The Great City of Vestrill!" They took their fist and then pointed it to the crew. They poofed away, then reappearing hanging from the main mast, their leg and arm looped through the rope as they continued to speak.

"My God- Iros- Great God of the Stars and Sleets, through his glorious guidance- I receive visions and words of the future. Prophecies! My Destiny! I have been called to this role to help you all, and am only constantly reassured by the affirmations I continued to see and experience along the way." They planeshifted down, and appeared in front of Zephriel. "I know of your passed friend of Metal, how she sacrificed her sturdy life for yours. I see the Shadows that fly above out of your eyes and yet remain there irregardless." They poofed and repoofed in front of Beaux, leaning over with arms behind their back to look to him, "I see the betrayal of Beaux. How he guides us through his stupor yet genius without his knowledge of past!" They poofed and repoofed to the center of the circle of four crewmates. "I see the climax of each of you, the choices of friend and foe! The rejection or acceptation that lays ahead of you. I know your fate before you may even dream of it." They turned slowly to face each of them. They stood with more confidence now, hands still tucked behind their back and now with a little puff of the chest out.

"I know all this through the eyes and words of my God and Friend of Throughput. My life has lead me to this moment. My legacy and bloodline to revive and restore a new era that rests on all of our shoulders. You may not know it, but upon accepting the letter from Director Harmmish, you took the first step towards accomplishing a Great Prophecy. My kin and tribe rejected me for what I saw, but I knew that it must be accomplished. You're all great heroes in your own regards and you deserve to thrive!" Nostarion stomped their foot again, but instead of a pouting emphasis, it was a strike of power. A reverb could be felt across the deck of the ship. On the stomp, they planeshifted once more to the helm, standing on the table.

They were grinning wide at this point. A dramatic breeze so majestically emphasized their refound confidence and optimism fluttering through their hair and opalescent silk robes. They opened their arms outward as they looked to the crew, "And I'm here to guide you! I! am! Your! Captain!" They placed their fist to their chest again and bowed from the upper helm. Their voice felt powerful, either magically or naturally, it was hard to distinguish; but it was loud and filled with passion, enchanted along the breeze to reach their crew mates' ears. "May you teach me as I guide you along your way." They stood from their deep bow, taking a moment to breath before poofing down to the deck.

"Now! We have a port to get to! We will succeed in this venture, and everything must start on a path of inspiration and absolute courage." They looked around to the four members. "Do you all have stations for equipped sailing? I can much easily speed the boat along these tranquil waters so long as we avoid the reef. Rowrood awaits us." Nostarion walked through a gap in people and grabbed a tied rope from the mast it hung. With incredible efficiency and hand dexterity, they untied the knot and immediately began pulling the rope down and raising the main sail, which has yet to have been released. Grunting through the pulling, the strenuous task didn't seem to take them that long. Their calloused hands knew a ship well; they were the legacy of one of the greatest sailors.

"Miss Starwind! You were supposed to be familiar with the map, if I recall correctly? Could you please head to navigational display and calibrate the map to gauge future weather conditions of our geoclimitical enchance counters? Mister Petrichoras! if you could please check the inventory of Mercury's hardgoods such as tools, weapons, coins, cloth, woods. Take stock and note of what might need to be replaced or refurbished along the port. Gather coin that may be permitted to be spent for the crew along our day at the port. Sir Flynyas Tealeaf! if you could please escort Mister Beaux to his quarters and ensure he doesn't hurt himself again, please. Dress his wounds, see if you can make sense of his mind or perhaps what Miss Starwind spoke of. Tech Beaux-" Nostarion had tied the first sail rope back to the mast with quick and efficient motions: looping around and lying the knot and folding it across the peg. They moved to the second mast as they spoke, but kept projecting their voice backwards. "-needs to rest up and clean the disaster he created before he hurts himself further. If his environment is chaotic, then so shall he be." Nostarion finished speaking just as they began pulling the second rope with hefty grunts of force, using their whole body to only increase the kinetic energy behind their pulls.

"I know you may all have questions-" They huffed as they started to tie the knot of the second hoisted sail. "And you are more than welcome to ask me. Perhaps once we start to function and work more conducively as a unit-" They finished the knot and brushed their hands together, "Things will become more clear. Now. I am here to guide you to start that coordination."

bonesbo TheCrowKing Juju Nobody_314 Caligena​

 

[bonesbo]

BEAUX

Nobody_314

Beaux chuckled a bit at the end of Nostarion's speech. He covered his face with his hand, continuing to lie on the floor. "Alight, soonds gud captain..." Beaux gave a heave as he finally sat up, looking towards Flynyas. "Aight. Sooo..." he tapped the boards of the deck, looking around to the others as they stood before they finally started to disperse. "Ded ye cut me arm, or ded ye use yur magic? Ye got magic, donchu?" He put his right hand to his left shoulder, inspecting the bandaging across his stump.

It was interesting, he was both simultaneously alert and sober through the sharp pain and weird irritation and anger, yet numbed from lingering chemicals and drugs of whatever he concocted before the surgery. Thoughts were clear? But perhaps too fast to comprehend what was truly happening. Nostarion's speech, Zephriel's anger, the sickness of his own internal problems... Anziium was still here... Was that a dream? That was real, right? Well how he would leave if they weren't at the port yet... which they were supposed to arrive within the next hours. Maybe he would leave then, he seemed indifferent right now. Magen... The reality was actually setting in that she was gone. Well, at least they were away from the island, and that island was gone, no one else would suffer like they were, like he did.

 

[Juju]

ZephrielAs much as Zeph was skeptical of prophecies and fate, she had to admit that Nostarion definitely had a flair for charistmatic speech. There was a powerful sense of purpose in each word, a determination that -- as far as her experience went -- was almost impossible to fake. They really did believe in their words, and even if Zeph did not, she couldn't help but feel compelled to listen.

She looked away from Star when they mentioned Magen, part out of shame, and the other because of the lurch of sadness she felt at the briefest mention of her name. She really did sacrifice herself for her, didn't she? After such horrendous treatment, Magen hadn't hesitated to help. It was a guilt that had been absolutely eating away at Zeph ever since they escaped the maw of Infinite. Even if that placed had drowned, it kept resurfacing in her mind, refusing to let her leave. In a way, she was stuck there too.

She didn't feel so angry anymore, but rather a deep fatigue. She had hardly slept during the night, as she had been too anxious to let Beaux sleep without supervision. If she had missed something, or he had fallen into another fit, she would feel acutely responsible. Zeph glanced at the mechanic, listening as he talked to Flynyas about the procedure, asking about the amputation as if it was he who had done it. She didn't stay around to hear the rest.

The seraphi swiftly turned towards the cabin and stalked off with a sullen look. She felt sick, and wanted nothing more than to return to her room and rest, but she forced herself to make her way to where the map was currently being held.

The state of the map was just as she remembered it, and her fingers easily slid along the delicate dials and buttons that commanded the inner mechanisms. As much as she loathed technology, she had to admit that whoever had made this creation had an eye for beauty and function. Dutifully, she flipped open the Tomb and began to compare her notes of the previous weather patterns with the current weather and cloud formations. If she charted this correctly, they would have a fair wind at their back and would arrive at the nearest port in good time... hopefully without any other deathly encounters.

 

[TheCrowKing]

Anziium

Great prophecy? Destiny? Oh Gods, where did this bumbling fool come from?
​

Did Nostarion not realize how ridiculous they appeared giving this large-scale speech on non-existent prophecies? They looked like a damn fool speaking down to them, their rambling nothing more than crazed talk to the tiefling's ears. Was no one going to address it; how utterly mad this sounded, that they were merely paid as a scouting crew and nothing more. While there were numerous gods out there, of the land, sea, air, death and so much more, why would they turn their divine gaze upon a ship full of mundane individuals that narrowly escaped the first island they ventured upon. Their speech was so absurd that a pitied chuckle would escape the unruly diplomat's mouth, he shaking his head the further they carried on. If I listen to another minute of this mindless babble, I'm most definitely going to have further issues of my own.

Unwilling to carry on pretending to understand or care about said nonsense, he withdrew his attention from the cotton-candy colored individual, fully focusing on scooping up his filthy familiar. He'd part with a polite nod at the halfling, intending to keep the promise of cleaning his clothes if he were to stop by his room before they reached the port. Beyond that? Well, he might have caught the earful of an 'order' issued his way, but he merely snorted. "If you came looking for a a treasurer or inventory keep, you're surely mistaken. I was paid nor scouted for no such job, and will not do such. Fend for yourself-" He murmured as he found the stairway descending to the living quarters. If they were foolish enough not to realize the basic necessities they needed to operate a ship...well...it was going to be a rigorous journey for them. One would assume that perhaps an individual housing themselves upon a foreign ship for days on end would know exactly how much foodstuffs were left.

Shaking his head, he carried himself to his own quarters for the remainder of the time between their current position and the docks. He would tend to his own business, whether their newfound 'captain' liked it or not.