Fantasy On Treacherous Tides & Whirling Winds IC

[shadowz1995]

Oliver's face twitched towards an apologetic expression within the darkness of his cowl when the merfolk seemed to get irritated with him. "....My..... apologies....." he groaned out but his words fell on dead ears as she leapt into combat the now disarmed, choking, and panicked opponents.

Everything went by in a blur and Oliver could hardly keep up with everything that was going on. The only thing he knew was that someone had eventually called for a surrender and that was the end of that. The old zombie wanted to go eat and replenish the mana he used but there were barely any casualties. That being said, if anyone was executed, they may be tossed his way. They were pretty good about giving him the recently dead to feast upon.

Marceline gave him an odd order than only served to confuse the undead pyromancer. He had already put out the fire on the enemy ship to everything but the sails. The sails were....

A quick glance upwards revealed there was no sails left to burn. So, there was no fire to put out. There was also no fire on their ship that she didn't already put out.

So... what was he supposed to do exactly?

He could only tend to his "wounds" if he consumes mana essence or if someone willingly infuses it into him. He couldn't do that below deck.... but he was ordered to mend his wounds.

Oliver eventually just decided to go with the middle ground and stayed where he was but started to unceremoniously rip out chunks of wooden shrapnel that had been embedded into his body. The sound of flesh being indifferently torn from its home along with the shrapnel was clearly audible once all the cheering and celebrating died down.

Once Oliver had picked himself clean, he just waited around as he usually did in scenarios like this. He had advanced medical knowledge, so people were often given to him for mending when the surgeons were otherwise busy. Maybe someone would pass him a corpse to munch on. Only time would tell.

Alteras Vampunk

 

[June Verles]

Grulashk Magrbak

The Whimsical Lady's humble cook was choking a poor marine before the call for enemy surrender was heard, the fact of which made him somewhat disappointed. He was already spending a lot of time in the kitchen and couldn't get much exercise in beside his usual stretches, he hoped he could use this brawl to get some cardio in, alas it was not meant to be.

Grulashk let out a sigh as he finally lets go of the already knocked out, not breathing, possibly dead sailor. Today was just not going right for him. Nonetheless he had a job to do as ordered by the captain so he begrudgingly made his way bellow deck. However he did just manage to notice Marceline playing a prank on their quarter-master, which did put a smile on his face.

Using his acute sense of smell Grulashk knocked his way through the entire lower deck after going around in a circle at least twice, to find the depressing sight that was the food storage. Nothing but dried meat, barrels upon barrels of alcohol and some probably, most definitively rotten eggs.

"Dis sight really makes me terri-fried" he said while holding eggs and turning behind him, as if was saying the joke to anyone but himself.

"'Der's no cheese either, give me a baaah-eak."

Again, nothing.

After that Grulashk just sniffled before returning to work after being rejected by the empty space.

 

[Noble Scion]

Harper Jules

Spoiler: Appearance

​

Harper looked up when he heard the cry of his name directly in-front of him, only to find the menacing presence of one of their cooks hovering a CANNONBALL, above his HEAD,

Needless to say, the harpy didn't take it well.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWHATAREYOUDOINGTRYINGTOKILLMEIMONYOURSIDE?!?!" The bird squealed, pushing himself away from the woman with his legs, flailing his wings to shove himself away as he haphazardly flapped and rolled his way across the deck as his feathers involuntarily plumped up like a pheasant at having been frightened to seem more threatening.

"DON'T DROP NO, OVER BY THE CANNONS, PUT THERE NOW! NOT HERE NO!" the bird stammered in a panic after flailing his way and practically leaping across the deck away from the woman, jittering all the way, as one wing lay resting on his pumping chest as he tried to stem the ravenous pounding of his chest with the other moved to the back of his head while glaring grumpily at Marceline, his mouth open as he gasped for air, having been unprepared for such fright.

Once he calmed down slightly and his feathers stopped bristling, his heaving turned into nothing more than faint gasps for air. Jules then started what was intended to be a stern look, but appeared as something more like a pouting child back at the lady. "Bully.." he huffed to himself, thinking of how he'd get back at her in the future, given that vengeance was the only suitable way of winning this war with the woman. There was no conceivable way she didn't know what she was doing!

"I need a drink.." he groaned once he finished his death-stare at the woman before immediately regretting his decision to look at the enemy deck with the rest of their crew on it.

The sight of a zombie ripping wood out of himself was so nauseating, the sound of a gagging bird probably could've been heard from anywhere on the ocean if one had been paying enough attention.

What a crew.. What, a, crew.
Alteras shadowz1995 (everyone else too, pretty much xD)

 

[Forgy]

Alcott
Aboard The Whimsical Lady's deck; trying to make friends
Interacting with: Noble Scion | Mentions: shadowz1995 Alteras
​

Alcott finally popped the lid off the top of the barrel. The inside smelt great, a well-aged rum that had a hint of lime adrift. But he was pissed! This wasn't the first bloody time he'd been blinded and tossed inside a random barrel. At least it wasn't fish oil again. Pretty tricky to clean yourself when everything you grab hops out of your hand like a toad.

He wiped his cheek of tears, wrung his mustache of the saline substance, and breathed a deep sigh. BANG! The barrel, still heavy even though it was empty, slammed onto it's side. Unfortunately for Alcott, Lady wasn't very still at the moment. As the vessel lurched one way, the barrel shot off in the opposite direction. Ah, the roll of death; he'd experienced it a few times before. As the barrel slammed into something, Alcott's tiny frame was tossed inside like a bag of beans. Before the barrel could begin rolling to the other side, he dragged himself out of the opening. He patted himself free of dust, and looked around the hold. It was surprising clean at the moment, but Alcott wouldn't be able to improve it with the current state of things.

Ascending the stairs to the deck above, a few things were obvious: a fight had begun, Oliver was being an asshole, and Jules was being a coward. Some things never change. Alcott spotted the mess Oliver left; rather, he spotted the devilish spawn Oliver left. "Oi, the feck is that!" his naturally brittle and wobbly voice squeaking from his lips. "Good feckin' luck sleepin' t'night, boyo."

He had evidently missed the important parts while he was being thrown about another fucking barrel, but he did catch an all-too-familiar sight: Jules heaving over the side of the deck. Unfortunately, the mere thought happened to trigger Alcott's own bile reaction. A quick, tiny-legged dash to the same spot Jules had leaned over proved to be a smart move. After a wee hop and a rough time at holding his chubby body up, Alcott released his belly's contents into the sea. He dropped to the deck below, thankfully not a far fall.

Alcott rolled over as the ever so cute Marceline held a cannonball over Jules' prone figure. The bird boy panicked and scuttled away, stammering like usual. How he was appointed Quartermaster, Alcott could never imagine. After the feathers on Jules' rested neatly once again, Alcott waddled over joyfully. He poked the boy's rear in front of him, " 'ow many did ya kill?"

 

[Vampunk]

Almost as fast as the skirmish had begun it was over, with the Weaterby's crew having been assaulted with all sorts of nasty tools the pirates had at their disposal. From the vilest alchemical concoctions to zombies with an affinity for fire, and even dreaded merfolk in their ranks, the Flyrian vessel didn't seem to have picked a favorable fight as before long, they called for a surrender.

Her spiky frills fluttering in a vivid flurry of red hues, Tarakona would rise to her feet, resting her weight against her propped up trident as she allowed her gaze to wander over the Flyrian crew, finding them averting their eyes as soon as her clear blue orbs found their own.
Obviously scared that the merfolk would devour them on the spot, Tarakona would let go of a guttural chuckle, her many frills standing up from her head to make her appear even more imposing as she already was.

"Don't worry, the cap'ain's very strict about me maintaining a very healthy diet. And luckily for you folk, you're not really on my menu." The merfolk would muse as her lips parted to reveal her wicked shark-like teeth.
"Besides, y'all look so scrawny, not much meat on your bones, wouldn't even be an appetizer." Tarakona added with a click of her tongue as her prehensile muscle escaped the cage of pearly ivories to lick over her fangs, glowing its faint blue gloom of the deep seas.

And having the crew collectively feel an ice cold shiver run down their spines.

Stepping aside to let her captain pass, the Merfolk would come to lean against the railing, her smile widening into a grin as she watched Vyxyl pull up the opposing captain by their collar.
Happily spinning her Trident's shaft in her grasp, Tarakona would find her attention being drawn to Jules obviously being a bit disturbed by Oliver ripping bits and pieces of wood out of his flesh and the most wicked idea snuck into her mind.

Eyes wandering over the deck to scour for anything dead enough to be of use to her, Tarakona would find a mariner unlucky enough to have been pierced by the watery javelin she had used to breach their hull.
A clean cut had made his death quick and rather painless, though there were some scorch marks from Oliver's own attack on the Flyrian vessel.

"He'll do..." Tarakona would hum to herself as she made her way over to the corpse, swiftly grabbing a hold of its wrist as she began dragging it over to the Zombie.

Making sure that Jules was still watching from the deck of their own ship, Tarakona would approach Oliver with the most untypically friendly smile gracing her aquatic features.

"You look like you could use a bite, huh?" The merfolk would muse with a raised eyebrow as she gestured down at the dead mariner she had in tow.
"I'm stuffed myself, so I guess you can have this one." Tarakona would remark with a click of her tongue, smiling widely at Oliver as she'd lean against her propped up Trident.

 

[Fable]

( June Verles Birdsie Noble Scion BackSet dazzling Epiphany Vampunk specters Tarmagon shadowz1995 Alteras kevintheradioguy Forgy )
(Spend time time after this to interact with each other as time passing to the port. My next post the ship will arrive at Booty Bay for better repairs.)

Captain Vyxyl shot Harper a death glare right before she stepped off her shop and onto the Weatherby, she had used their name correctly unless the dense bird confused their own name with their breed. However, she said nothing directly to her weakling of a Quartermaster. Honestly, she had only allowed them the position because they were too cowardly to try and skim numbers off their books because they would not only face the Captain's wrath, but that of the entire crew if he tried to trim the pay of others to increase their own. Honestly, she'd rather pay the harpy in books when she could.

The Captain was too weak to resist Vyxyl and seemed on the verge of fainting so she slapped them; hard. This jostled them awake and they looked at her with terrified eyes. "I'll ask ya again. Do you have a relic aboard your ship? I'd rather not have to tear the entire thing down to find it, leaving you nothing but planks floating in the open ocean and leaving you to the merfolk as an offering. So, do yourself a favor and just give up the relic and we'll be on our merry little way."

The Captain of the Weatherby sputtered at first but eventually admitted to where the relic was. Captain Vyxyl grinned and proceeded to toss them to two waiting crew and ordered them to play nicely while she went to get what they came for. It hadn't been hidden anywhere creative, kept right in the captain's cabin in a locked desk drawer which she easily broke the lock with a gust of air to increase pressure to the pins and it popped open to reveal a cylindrical relic.

She grabbed the item and after a few experimental pokes and pulls managed to open it, not as though she could understand or know what the blasted thing was. No one did. That didn't matter much, this just meant they got a good pay day. She closed it and casually strolled out and back onto the deck of the Weatherby. "Everyone back to the Lady, we're getting the fuck out of here. But.... before I go..."

She went the to helm and proceeded to slice the entire thing to pieces with her wind abilities. They'd be unable to pursue them even if they managed to repair the other damage that had been done. This would be a pain for them to restore quickly. With that she returned to her own ship, happily whistling as she tossed the relic in the air where is twirled before she caught it again.

"Mister Tyr, once all my crew have returned set course to Booty Bay." She paused as she saw Tarakona had dragged over a corpse, "Ah, very good initiative. Oliver, be sure to thank Tara for going out of her way to bring you a snack. The rest of ya bastards cut the lines, we're leaving! Fix the damn ship as best you can! Mister Harper, stop making an embarrassment of yourself and get your feathery ass in my quarters at once. You've a job."

She walked past Gru a gave him a pat on the back as he looked disheartened, most likely they didn't have anything good to use on their ship. Naval ships were more ration focused than actually bothering to try and serve actual food. She continued to her quarters, relic in hand, and placed it on her desk waiting for Harper to enter. They were the most "educated" of the crew perhaps since they'd spent time in the one country that presumably had the largest collection of relics.

Whenever the harpy would make their appearance, Vyxyl would toss them the relic for their inspection. She doubted the bird would know squat about the damn thing, but it would do a few things. Firstly it would attract the bird's ever burning curiosity, secondly it would remind them of the precious loot they got their hands on that they would have never been granted access to in their old life, and thirdly it gave her a chance to lecture the boy to man the hell up.

---​

Booty Bay was the closest port and they needed to get repairs done quickly and move on to different waters before a Flyrian fleet is sent to pursue them. They'd make berth there until they could safely move out of Sedkelu Ocean. She could get some intel on interested buyers for the relic, though she'd have to be careful about it since some of her scummy pirate brethren wouldn't hesitate to try and go after them to take the relic for themselves if they caught wind.

 

[shadowz1995]

As was usual aboard the vessel, Oliver merely idled. He had been considering heading down below deck until the resident half-man crawled out of whatever hole he had dug himself into. Again, the little man berated Oliver, as he so often did, and told him to be careful of his dreams. "I.... cannot....sleep....." he groaned back without looking up.

The little man sauntered over to Harper's quivering form and Oliver got one of those rare flashes of emotion through his mind. To be frank, the undead pyromancer did not like the feathered birdman at all. His time out in the world after his resurrection showed him that he strongly disliked cowards. Harper was no exception. The zombie grunted at the sight of him in disdain before turning away to watch the captain coming back with her prize.

Luckily, he had a prize of his own to look forward to. One of the only other crew members that could sympathize with his culinary choices. Tarakona dragged a fresh corpse behind her and tossed it at Oliver'e feet, explaining how she had already eaten her fill.

The zombie knelt down and grabbed a fistful of the fallen naval soldier's hair, dragging the cadaver until it was face to face with him. Oliver's wrapped up fingers flipped the dead man on to his back and he looked up towards the merfolk that brought him the meal, "You have....my.....thanks.....Tarakona...." One could faintly see the pair of glowing embers that were Oliver's eyes from within the hood of his cloak.

From there, he wasted no time and plunged his fingers into the dead soldier's exposed belly, With strength only capable from a hungry zombie, Oliver pried open the skin to reveal the delicious viscera on the inside. What wasn't obvious was the Oliver could still feel and see the essence of this man's soul permeating throughout the tissue. Cool, blue, and pulsating softly as his soul tried to depart to the afterlife.

Unfortunate that he would never get the chance

Flesh, organs, bone marrow, and mana went into Oliver's being. Oliver wasn't a noisy nor a messy eater, thankfully, but if he could help it, he did like taking his time. One of the few personal preferences the crew could honestly say he had. Sure, he could just gorge on the body quickly and frantically. He just liked eating slow.

And as he ate, his wounds closed and his mana was restored.

Naturally, Oliver's already low sense of awareness practically disappeared when he was given food. Whoever was watching... well good luck if they werent used to it already.

Vampunk Fable Forgy Noble Scion

 

[kevintheradioguy]

Cracking his neck, and rubbing his hands together, a well-built man finally appeared on deck, trying to hide his heavy breathing. He winced at the light, squinting his eyes, as he stumbled over to take care of any damage done to the deck, although, as far as he could tell, anything too crucial was being taken care of. The hull was fine, and as they were in the air, the main thing to think about were the sails and masts. It's not like they were going to drown in the skies. "Coming through. 'scuse me, gents..." he murmured under his breath, squeezing between the crew members, and looking down at the large black spot on the deck. He pursed his lips, looking around to give a judging glare to the one responsible... or to the one he thought responsible. Throwing fire around while on a flammable vessel? Really?

The man sighed, looking at the wet, black, raggedy edges of the burn mark, which felt to him almost like a gnawing, pulsing pain. Almost. It was hard to describe these things in words, and he rarely even tried. Still, this wasn't his first concern up here.

Taking a long breath in and a long breath out, he fixed his shirt in a weird, preppy way, walking toward the other ship... what was her name? Weather-something? He didn't know, neither he cared. His interest was in taking something into his own pocket.

"Don't overstrain yourself." He murmured with a charming smile, as he passed Marceline, carrying what looked like a heavy cannonball. He wasn't sure if this was an illusion or not - she didn't look like a person to be able to lift it at all, but... shallow waters run deep, as they say. Not staying there to chat, he put his hands behind his back, walking on an enemy deck with a small bounce, and looking over the corpses (while trying to ignore the two crew members who would most certainly feast on those) as well as the survivors, trying to find anything he'd fancy. The elf was a sucker for well-made hats that saved his sensitive sight more than once preventing headaches, and heavy trinkets - something a presumable posh merchant ship should've had, but this... this was not a merchant ship they were expecting at all. 'Good that I managed to avoid the battle.' He thought. 'I'm not sure I'd be able to contribute against those people...' That made the elf think. There was another person who would've clearly avoid it. Looking around, he spotted the person in question poking their quartermaster. "Oi, Alcott!" He called out, as he stood up as he brushed invisible dust from a newly found hat, and sighed in relief as he put it on. His eyes were grateful for shielding them from the light. "You look like a nimble fella. Once done touching our quartermaster, assist me with the sails, would you?" He asked. Being tired from keeping up this "healing" of an injured ship made him extremely polite.

Alteras Forgy ​

 

[Alteras]

[div class=background][div class=MarFlex] [div class=MarImage] [div class=MarTitle]Marceline Detrovski[/div] [div class=MarMentions] Character Sheet
Location:
Upper deck of the Whimsical Lady

Interactions:
Noble Scion Forgy June Verles [/div][/div] [div class=MarContent]Marceline laughed so hard from Harper's reaction that she could no longer hold the cannonball (bucket) and dropped it onto the empty deck. Water splashed out of the cannonball, and soon the illusion was gone and replaced by an ordinary bucket.

"... ha... ha... haaaaaa... Whew!! That was good!!" Marceline smiled at both the bird and the short mate who waddled towards them. "Welcome back Alcott. He actually did quite a number on the enemy!" She said, not letting the bird get in a word. Before they could even continue their conversation, she saw Grulashk wearing a sad face get patted by the captain.

"... Ah shit... Gru!!" She set off at a run just as the elf came and gave some orders to Alcott. Reaching her colleague, she looked at the orc with a worried look on a her face.

Gru... Is there really nothing on that ship? Marceline was worried. While the Whimsical's supply of food wasn't going dry, they were already starting to lose variety, and judging from the way Gru came running out in the middle of the battle, the cake was ruined too. [/div][/div][/div] [class=background] width: 100%; height: auto; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); padding: 5vh 0; [/class] [class=MarFlex] width: 100%; max-width: 1000px; margin: 0 auto; justify-content: center; align-items: stretch; display: flex; flex-flow: row wrap; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class=MarImage] position: relative; width: 300px; max-width: 100%; min-height: 300px; max-height: 700px; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/UISDgS9.jpg'); background-size: 160%; background-position: 70% 17%; margin: 5px; [/class] [class=MarTitle] position: absolute; bottom: 0px; left: 00px; right: 00px; height: auto; width: auto; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; text-align: center; font-size: 25px; white-space: nowrap; line-height: 1; font-family: 'Trade Winds'; color: #271d2d; background-image: linear-gradient(to top, #efefec, transparent); text-decoration: underline; [/class] [class=MarMentions] position: absolute; width: 100%; height: 100%; top:0; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Open Sans'; color: #e5e5dd; opacity: 0; background-color: rgba( 0,0,0,0.65); transition: opacity .5s; [/class] [class name=MarMentions state=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [class=MarContent] position: relative; min-width: 200px; flex: 1; height: auto; padding: 0px 15px; margin: 5px; font-family: 'Open Sans'; color: black; font-size: initial; [/class]

 

[June Verles]

Grulashk Magrbak

By the time the enemy captain spilled out the location of the artifact Grulashk was already leaving the lower decks with the small amount of food he'd taken, by small I mean he found a replacement sail and used it to pull a quarter of their food stock onto the deck of the Whimsical lady. He'd be snapped out of his bad mood when he patted on the back by the captain, his bad mood was disheartening everyone else which was simply not allowed.

Turning around he'd notice his fellow cook checking on him. Letting out a sigh he lets out a hearty laugh before addressing her; "Daan't ya worry abaht me, we're garn ter dock anyha so we can trade sum of this excess. Hell ya might even coax our quarter-master into accompanyin' us in the bloody port after the Captain's done wif 'im."

With that done he couldn't help but raises his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed their very own moon elf, at which he beckoned him; "Master Bosun, I'm glad ter see ya out and abaht, yer lookin' pretty ghastly so I was wonderin' if ya were getting enough sun."

Alteras Fable kevintheradioguy

 

[Noble Scion]

Harper Jules

Spoiler: Appearance

​

Upon feeling the tap upon his behind region, Jules ceremoniously turned around it terror, leapt back, gave a high-pitched squeak before eventually managing to recompose himself for the gnome. "A-ah.. It's you Alcott. Thankfully I didn't have to kill any, but uh.. I guess I was mentally prepared to, maybe." the harpy mumbled, averting his gaze away from the grotesque undead feasting ceremony that had begun occurring with the aid of Tarakona over on the other boat and trying not to think about such a scene again, given that his stomach was already empty and frankly, he felt quite ill. How the others handled it he could only assume was due to the fact that they all appeared to be psychopaths with murdering in their nature, which, again, let to him wondering how he'd goofed so hard that he was actually friends, if they even considered him that, with a group of them.

Fate, Jules supposed, not that he was much of a believer in the hidden strings of the lord anymore considering he'd been excommunicated, or at least, he thought he was. There hadn't exactly been a ceremony for it when he was running for his life.

If it weren't for the books, he'd probably have asked to leave already.

The bird was rather hasty to follow after the captain when his name was called, and it didn't sound particularly happy, scuttling his way in after the captain in relief that he didn't have to stick around to watch the zombie eat what had been living so recently.

Upon making his arrival at the captain's quarters, the relic caught his interest almost immediately. It looked like a scroll, but made of coloured metal in a material that he simply didn't recognise, and he'd read dozens of books about mining in his days at the church. "Where was that?" he asked, gesturing to the device while ensuring that he was a good few foot steps away from the woman in the somewhat likely event that she strangled him for not trying to kill people as hard as everyone else. "Looks like.. A map? A text? I.. Can't read it, which means it's probably ancient or somethin'." the harpy chirped, hoping to infect the woman with some happiness and take her mind off of him trying his hardest with the skillset he had.

Unsure if his attempt to focus the conversation on the orange object, the bird simply gave a weak, nervous smile that was clearly strained as he tapped the small talons on his wings together in front of him, slouching and appearing as non-threatening as a small bird-boy could, the bell on his collar giving of a slight tinkle every now and then.

Fable

 

[Forgy]

Alcott
Aboard The Whimsical Lady's deck; attempting to get out of any climbing
Interacting with: Noble Scion kevintheradioguy | Mentions: Fable Alteras
​

Alcott erupted into a giggle fit as the harpy was frightened by his touch. At least someone else on this deck was more scared than himself. Then the ever so cute Marceline chimed in, but of course he didn't believe a word she said. But after the harpy's reply, Alcott grinned in jest. His potential friend said he could have fought if he had to! "You an' I would likely be ready for battle in, oh, a mill'on years?" Alcott chuckled again, ending with a spluttering cough.

Soon the Captain, whom Alcott was fond of for taking him aboard, had ordered for bird brain to come to her quarters, as well as noted that his ass was 'feathery'. Alcott found this literal statement far too funny, and began to cough and splutter again. Managing to stifle the fit, Alcott was now being addressed first. This was rare, since usually he was ignored and left to his own devices unless he spoke up.

"Oi, Alcott!" Alcott wheeled around to see the Moon Elf, "You look like a nimble fella. Once done touching our quartermaster, assist me with the sails, would you?" He considered walking away, since it really wasn't a good idea for Alcott to ever go climbing.

Alcott tsk-tsked, "Where were ya while we were all cuttin' down them Flyr'ans, Weevil?" He silently giggled to himself, since he assumed Weevil knew exactly where Alcott would not be during a battle. As he produced a speckled six-sided die from his pocket, he said, "Pick evens or odds, dark one. Loser has to climb."

 

[Fable]

( June Verles Birdsie Noble Scion BackSet dazzling Epiphany Vampunk specters Tarmagon shadowz1995 Alteras kevintheradioguy Forgy )
( Eh, I'll try and boost so interaction. )

The Captain plopped down into the plush chair at her desk, leaning back as she watched Harper inspect the relic with interest. She rested her elbows on the armrests and let the fingers of her hands touch, making a small inverted V shape. "Where? Doesn't matter. I'm not shocked you don't know anything about it. You might have actually impressed me if you had heard anything from Theace during your time there. But you were too low on their totem pole to gain such insightful information. I want you to document every single bloody damn detail of that relic down to the damn scratches on the surface before we sell it. However, I have further orders for you. You're going to get yourself killed as you are now. You are cowardly, inexperienced, and too damn fucking submissive for this lifestyle. You want to survive? Man the fuck up. Pick someone to help you improve or so help me if I see to squawking and not pulling your weight again... "

Captain Vyxyl didn't expand on the thread, she just grinned at the harpy with a quirked brow, looking down right predatory. "That relic doesn't leave my quarters." She slammed her hands on her desk as she got up and left her quarters to check the status of her ship. ( Noble Scion ) The first thing she noticed was the zombie eating.

"Gods dammit Oliver I told you to fucking eat somewhere private. Not everyone wants to witness your mealtime," she seethed. "Hurry up and dump the dang thing." ( shadowz1995 )

She tapped her foot on the deck, a weird habit without any explanation. Some thought she could tap and hear the damage of the ship, maybe it was superstition, but thus far anytime anyone has asked the answer has never been given. She glances up at the sails and grumbled. They'd be moving a bit slower than she wanted, but it wasn't so bad they couldn't move at all. "Get my sails fixed quickly!"

After she barked her orders she approached Gru and Marce ( June Verles Alteras ) "Write a list of items you need and hand it to the Quartermaster so he can give you the coin needed for you to purchase it. I want this to be a quick trip, no dally. Make sure you get plenty of rum this time."

Then Vyxyl moved on to look for Alcott. ( Forgy ) "Aclott, ya damn weasel, where did you hide this time? My ships a damn mess. If i find one blood stain on my deck you better be prepared to hang as our new flag. The only thing I was red are my damn sails, speaking of..." She shifted her eyes left and then right before going to the Bosun. "Status report. I need to know if we need to get more repair supplies while we're in Booty Bay." ( kevintheradioguy )

 

[Tarmagon]

Tyr made certain that all of the crew were back aboard the Lady before having the grappling hooks retrieved. The Captain never seemed to think about how much iron they'd lose if they just 'cut the lines' every time they cast off of a prize. Easing the helm, he moved the Lady well clear of the stricken warship before calling for all sails to be set. He didn't call for the royals though, he wasn't certain that the Lady would stand the strain in her current state. Rather than take the ship up, he took her down, keeping her just above the waves. He wouldn't set her down until he was certain that all of the repairs to the hull had been completed.

Tyr paused for a moment, feeling the world around him, then spun the wheel, bringing the Lady a few degrees to starboard. There, this heading would take advantage of the prevailing winds and see them to Booty Bay. He imagined that his ability to set a course without referring to maps or sextant drove the navigator a bit crazy, but it was just something he did. Nodding to himself, Tyr called out to one of the burly seamen swarming about the deck, clearing the inevitable mess that combat always seemed to cause.

"Keep er on dis headin," Tyr said, his voice slowly clearing of his accent. "Stay low, but keep er out of the drink until the carpenter clears her for water. Call me or the Cap'n if anything happens."

As if summoned, Captain Vyxyl appeared and immediately began barking orders. Tyr waited until she seemed to run down, then approached quietly.

"Am I to presume that your prize was not what you thought it might be?" he asked, all trace of island accent gone, his diction crisp and clear. "And I do not recommend that we set the royals until the rigging has been checked and the bowsprit has been checked for cracking. I was a gentle as possible, however we can never know."

Fable

 

[BackSet]

Sherlyn Thrice-Damned
Semi-Trained, Quasi-Professional

Spoiler

​

"Get my sails fixed quickly!" The Captain barked as part of her many orders. Since Sherlyn was already up there she figured she could help. She didn't, have much else to do. She heard two of her crewmates arguing over who'd climb up to fix the sails. She slid down the rope a bit.

"Hey! You two!" She shouted. "I'll save the both of you some trouble! Tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it!"

Forgy kevintheradioguy

 

[dazzling]

Fenris stood by the rail with her lips pursed, leaning back onto it and simply watching her fellow crewmates milled about. Keeping her gaze cast up at them, she absentmindedly reached into the pouch at her side. Pulling out a small vial nested among the various poisons tucked in the bag, she swirled around the clear liquid and brought it to her lips. Grimacing as she wiped her mouth, Fenris held back the urge to cough. Haven't had alcohol that strong in a good while, she thought placidly. Placing the empty vial back in the bag carefully, she returned to watching everyone else and noticed Sherlyn and a pair of men across the deck.
Strolling over boredly, she examined the situation. A small smirk rising on her face, she tilted her head coyingly. "You group got this?"
BackSet kevintheradioguy Forgy

 

[kevintheradioguy]

The elf chucked at their intimidating cook, and nodded in a small, fancy bow, pressing his hand to his chest. He let a small sun-related prick slide by... if he would be absolutely honest, he had no idea whether Gru was trying to make a sarcastic joke, or really had no idea that Dokkalfar and the sun were at odds. "Good day to you too, my man." He replied in a soft, almost flirtatious tone. "Speaking of being out, I have noticed the shortage of provision aboard. Any chance you could look into it..." He nodded into a general direction of the enemy holds, not realising that all was already done, and that it might just be not the best thread to follow. "If you two must know, I was doing what I do best: keeping our fair lady afloat."

His attention soon switched specifically to the little man holding a die, and he chuckled, leaning down, back arched. "Oh? And which side of it is loaded, exactly..?" He wanted to continue, when he heard the captain speak, and made a few steps towards her, leaning across the broken railing. He always paid extra attention to her, but not because she was the captain. She was just a sight to see. It was the first and only representative of the tiny, bleached elves he had seen in centuries, and thus, he could not help it but stare... at the same time doing his damn best to make it look like extra levels of attention.

"Well, it depends, cap'n!" He loudly exclaimed, pushing himself from the railing, and standing upright, spreading his arms in a mix of a shrug and a show. "Are we planning on engaging in something like this anytime soon?" He realised that the fight wasn't exactly planned, but at the same time, the manner of speech the man expressed was always more or less playful. His voice grew quieter as she approached - Dokkalfar didn't want it to sound that he was yelling at Vyxyl. " We're afloat, and I can scrap by to batten down the holes, however, I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some yew and mahogany - not to mention I once more recommend having an extra set of sails just in case - but if our monetary resources are low, I can take half-a-crew, half-a-day, and dismantle this little lady for parts." He patted the railing, meaning the ship. That also meant that the living crew would be set to swim into cold waters... after a significant fall, of course. But he didn't really care about that, in all honesty. Other than that, with his ability to mend materials to his will, they has a surprisingly steady amount of rigging, ropes, nails, and alike - the most expenses concerned wood. "And I noticed food supplies running low."

His gaze shifted - first surprised, and then amused - to the two women starting to push each other in front of his eyes. If he didn't know better, he would think they were cat-fighting for him and Alcott. "Now-now..." - He chuckled, lifting his hands up. "Two navigators giving orders to their superior? The scandal!" He playfully imitated the voice of an actor who'd play some noble twat in the theatre... or what he thought this actor would sound like - Weevil never was in a theatre, after all. "What will they write in your resume?" He continued in a playful surprise. His expression soon softened, as he shook his hands, pointing at their ship. "We've got this. I'm sure you have more important business to attend to at the moment. Planning our way to the Bay, for example. Let's just all do our respective jobs, but..." He smiled to Sherlyn in the most charming way he could. "I will keep your offer in mind." He added in a murmur, before turning once more to Alcott. This time he did not lean down, keeping more serious this time. 'Killjoys.' He dropped a thought in direction of the navigatiors who for some reason decided to gang up against him today.

"There is nothing to play out, my man." He said to the gnome, approaching him in a way that signified that he was sure the two ladies pushing each other were already gone to do their jobs. "We both go. But you alone will have to put them back up..." He lifted his head up to the sails, holding the brim of the new hat so the shade keeps him safe from the sun. "I'm afraid that would be my last quick fix for a while before exhaustion..." He murmured in a surprisingly serious tone, biting his lip, and standing there for a moment, before clapping his hands, and looking at Alcott with a small, almost daring smile. "So! Let's go. The sails!"

Alteras | Fable | dazzling | BackSet | June Verles ​

 

[June Verles]

Grulashk Magrbak

Grulashk just kind of raised his eyebrows in a confused manner when the Bosun ignored his question before just shrugging it off. Knowing the pointy eared man he probably was fine, it wasn't like he could hide anything from the extremely attentive, paragon of understanding, giver of masterful counsel that was the orc cook of the whimsical lady. Though he probably should buy extra eggs and cheese, in case they needed emergency calcium...

He proceeds to pull out a flat piece of wood out of his trusty satchel, on it were carved drawings that appeared to be etched by a 5 year old. They depicted many things, a steak, a barrel among other things. However the one thing that connected the pictures were tally marks that were next to each one and every one of them. Grulashk, using thumb nail, simply scratched another tally mark next to ovoids that were probably meant to be eggs.

After she barked her orders she approached Gru and Marce (@June Verles @Alteras ) "Write a list of items you need and hand it to the Quartermaster so he can give you the coin needed for you to purchase it. I want this to be a quick trip, no dally. Make sure you get plenty of rum this time."

The orc sighs when he hears the order of the captain, a quick trip meant they didn't have time to haggle for supplies, but maybe he'd have just enough time to sell the excess supplies that he plundered from the Weatherby for some extra disposable capital. But at this point the bigger problem for the orc was how he was meant to quantify a lot in tally marks? The clever cook decided to resort to simply writing "a lot" in squiggly, almost ineligible writing before handing the plank to his fellow cook.

"Ga 'n' gie th' coin, I'll take whit we need tae drop aff from bellow deck an' we'll meet up ere'." before heading off to do what he said he would.

Alteras Fable kevintheradioguy

 

[Alteras]

[div class=background][div class=MarFlex] [div class=MarImage] [div class=MarTitle]Marceline Detrovski[/div] [div class=MarMentions] Character Sheet
Location:
Top Deck
Headed to the Quartermaster's Office
Interactions:
June Verles Fable Noble Scion [/div][/div] [div class=MarContent]"Haha! Wouldn't that be a sight! Quartermaster Harper in the middle of that market." Marceline cheered right up upon seeing Gru do the same. She began making her own merry way along with Gru, not paying attention until the captain yelled out their orders!

"Yes Captain!" A simple yell came out of her mouth, after which she turned back to Gru. Watching him scrawl something on his board, Marceline simply waited and prepared herself to do some street math. However, being given the board and seeing what was on it, she could only sigh. "It's probably best we do take Harper along with us."

As they went off their own separate ways, Marceline stopped by the kitchen, and released her cat from her pot. With an adorable meow, she hugged the black cat before putting her down to roam the ship. She returned to her duties and looked through the supplies. "So that's what happened..." Further in the kitchen was a massive hole and the remains of a cake. Giving up, she rummaged through the kitchen, looking for whether they needed some supplies beyond what was scribbled on the plank. "I guess some spices, sauces, and stuff..."

Marceline pulled out her dagger, and made a light etch of the additional supplies needed onto the board before tucking it under her arm. She ran out and up toward the Quartermaster's Office. "Harper~~! We need money for supplies!!!" [/div][/div][/div] [class=background] width: 100%; height: auto; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); padding: 5vh 0; [/class] [class=MarFlex] width: 100%; max-width: 1000px; margin: 0 auto; justify-content: center; align-items: stretch; display: flex; flex-flow: row wrap; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class=MarImage] position: relative; width: 300px; max-width: 100%; min-height: 300px; max-height: 700px; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/UISDgS9.jpg'); background-size: 160%; background-position: 70% 17%; margin: 5px; [/class] [class=MarTitle] position: absolute; bottom: 0px; left: 00px; right: 00px; height: auto; width: auto; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; text-align: center; font-size: 25px; white-space: nowrap; line-height: 1; font-family: 'Trade Winds'; color: #271d2d; background-image: linear-gradient(to top, #efefec, transparent); text-decoration: underline; [/class] [class=MarMentions] position: absolute; width: 100%; height: 100%; top:0; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Open Sans'; color: #e5e5dd; opacity: 0; background-color: rgba( 0,0,0,0.65); transition: opacity .5s; [/class] [class name=MarMentions state=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [class=MarContent] position: relative; min-width: 200px; flex: 1; height: auto; padding: 0px 15px; margin: 5px; font-family: 'Open Sans'; color: black; font-size: initial; [/class]

 

[Birdsie]

Grimgal the Thrice-Great

The thrice-magician came off the enemy ship with some loot of his own. Their stockpile had some rum; sweetness with alcohol. Intoxicating sugar. The sweetness of temptation. Ironically common, and yet, it could form an excellent base for many mind-manipulating concoctions, like a love potion or a charming potion.

But this flask was reserved strictly for his pleasure.

After drinking half of it, he walked up to Grulashk and handed it to the orc. "Help yourself, mate. I have a matter with the captain."

He did not hesitate as he approached the captain and drew her attention with an 'ahem.' Almost instantly, he said, "Captain. I understand why you may have rather assigned Harper to this, but I, too, want to study the relic, with your permission. I have experience of my own that may prove invaluable when studying it, and if we know what it is, or what it does, we may better entice buyers. Or, better yet, for all we know it could lead to treasures worth much more than it does on its own. Besides, I am sure Harper will love the company of a bird-lover."

He grumbled something that may or may not have been, 'Speaking of which, where is Edward, that daft featherhead?'

Noble Scion Fable June Verles

 

[Fable]

( June Verles Birdsie Noble Scion BackSet dazzling Epiphany Vampunk specters Tarmagon shadowz1995 Alteras kevintheradioguy Forgy )
( TFW you post short so you use an image to make it look longer. Sorry ;-; Vote for Anomaly here you go. XD )

"It's a relic and like all the blasted others completely void of any useful information. Harper will be documenting it, every part, before we find a buyer. Rumor was it was a relic that could actually provide a shard of information. I had been hoping to be the first pirate to have managed to figure out at least one relic." Vyxyl's knuckles turned white for a moment as she clenched her fists, but then opened her hands and refocused on her First Mate. "Very well, we'll make due with what we can right now. Discuss with the Bosun about the damage, as many hands as needed to repair. The wind's not acting properly and I have a gut feeling something bad is going to happen with that relic aboard." ( Tarmagon )

"Planning? Fuck no. Besides, I'd argue they picked the fight when they decided to resist," Captain Vyxyl laughed out at Dokkalfar. "Write up a list as well and give it to Mister Harper, he's in my quarters doing some business. You get the ship to Booty Bay we'll get some spare sails. Just make sure my ship doesn't sink or crash." She gave him a stern look showing she wasn't playing around. It was a look that said 'if this ship sinks you're going to be sinking with it.' She'd tie him to the mast if she had to. ( kevintheradioguy )

"All hands, we setting for Booty Bay. Report damages to the Bosun." Captain Vyxyl yelled once more, moving to the helm and taking out a compass. The sails were adjusted gently following the advice of the First Mate Tyr. They couldn't catch the full wind, but they were at least moving and no longer a sitting target. Soon enough the Weatherby was out of sight and it was nothing by ocean for miles around the Whimsical Lady. Vyxyl repaired a few spots herself where she was able, mostly the most minor of damage. She had been a normal crew member herself ages ago and she never really manage to give up the habit of fixing the ship. It was her ship after all and if it sunk it would be devastating to not just her but the crew.

When Vyxyl saw Grimgal heading her way her eye visibly twitched and she debated on whether or not to just walk away before he could spew whatever insanity was on his mind now. In the end she stood her ground and let the geezer try to swindle his way into gaining access to the relic. "You can work with Mister Harper on the relic. You can be his problem for a while. Do not fucking experiment on that or so fucking help me I'll hang you from bow." ( Birdsie )

A few hours later as the sun was starting its descent from the sky to give way to the evening the air became charged with what could only be described as a static energy. Metal parts of the ship let out small static charges, nothing that would cause a fire or damage. If someone was too close they'd get a small zap as well. "Bloody fucking," Vyxyl began but didn't finish. The frequency of the static increased and then the next moment the ship was caught in a tempest as an anomaly spawned in their vicinity. It was a maw of a portal spewing wind, rain, and lightning over a large area.

"I fucking knew the relic was bad luck!" She grumbled loudly. "Hang tight mates, secure yourselves, the rigging. Strap down the cannons!" Vyxyl rushed to the helm to help hold the wheel as it tried to turn wildly. They needed to just get out of the anomaly. These things could last for a mere second or go on for a year, she wasn't going to take a gamble and stay and pray it was one of the shorter ones.

The ice patches from earlier were starting to crack, then eventually a few broke and wind whistled through the hull and rain water blasted in. The wheel rattled and the ship groaned, at one point a blast of wind made the Lady rotate and anyone who hadn't secured themselves with rope risked getting tossed overboard into the rough waves. With the ship hovering the tall waves crashed harshly and broke more of the temporary patches and water poured in each time.

"Check below and bail water!"

 

[dazzling]

Fenris walked around, observing the others and her surroundings. As she passed by Harper, she peered at what looked like an artifact that he was turning in his hands. She was walking peacefully when the storm hit. Rain pounded her on the back fiercely and she stumbled forward, flipping around the look at the bright, stormy sky. Bolts of lightning shot through the air, static crackling around her. A towering wave smacked the ship, sending her reeling across the deck. Slipping on the water, she found herself sliding towards the rail. Crashing into it, she grabbed the wet railing and tried to stand. Wind slapped her now sopping ebony hair across her face, and she once more fell against the rail. Grasping the balusters tightly, she took a deep breath and relaxed into her sitting position.

"Holy shit, that's one anomaly." She said in awe, peeking through her fingers at the raging storm above. Feeling her legs grow more lithe and eyes glaze over, Fen struggled to stand but succeeded. Now adjusted, she skimmed across the wet deck towards the group she had talked to earlier. Digging in her bag, she took a fistful of green vials out. Handing one to each, she ran her eyes over them in a panic. "This will sharpen your senses, hopefully. You two take a full dose and fuckin' hope." Shoving them into their hands, she skittered off below deck. Grabbing an empty trash bin from the kitchen, she sprinted around and looked for any leaks.

BackSet Forgy kevintheradioguy

 

[BackSet]

Sherlyn Thrice-Damned
Ah crap

Spoiler

Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap! These were pretty much the only thoughts going through Sherlyn's head at the moment the storm hit. It caught her off guard and she was stuck on top of the rigging. In other words, she was clinging to ropes connected to the mast, the tallest part of the ship. And there was lightning. She was gonna die.

But better killed by lightning than falling into the sea. She wasn't gonna be able to get down anytime soon so she quickly grabbed one of the ropes and tied it around herself to keep from falling. It was a bit hard because the rope was wet but she managed it.

"I know that some of you know magic!" She called down to the deck below. "So I need to ask, do you know any spells that can get me down from here! I'd climb down myself but I'm not exactly equipped to climb down ropes that are constantly swinging due to wind!" She highly doubted anyone could hear her.

 

[Noble Scion]

Harper Jules

Spoiler: Appearance

​

"Come on... I pull my weight.. I'm not that heavy after all.." the harpy moaned after the captain as she left the quarters, shuffling his way towards the orange device, finding a quill and ink, which he couldn't help but be a little nervous about considering it was brown-feathered, and began scribbling down the details of the thing, from what he could glean about its material make-up to the shapes displayed on it, to the length, breadth, radius, diameter and all the other details he could think of. "W-well what do you know.. Those maths lessons did come in useful after all.." he hummed comfortingly to himself, trying not to glance around the room for fear that he be accused of snooping in the captain's quarters.

He wasn't sure why but his feathers felt particularly bristle-y today, like a storm was coming, but it didn't seem too bad at the moment, nothing more than a quivering as he gazed outside at the afternoon light outside without a cloud to be scene, but unable to shake the feeling of something bad was about to happen. "Stupid bird instincts.. Why wasn't I born something cool and strong, like a human." the quarter-master grumbled to himself as he heard the cries of the prankster that had held a cannonball over his head.

"J-just a minute! I'll go grab the coins!" he jittered back as he crept out of the room, leaving the paper filled with notes along side the device as the nauseating feeling of wrong became rather overwhelming.

"MISS, STORM MISS, STORM STORM, MISS MISS STORM!" Harper began calling out to his captain, hysteria blurring his mind from coherent sentences, despite the clear day as he began sprinting away from the hallway he'd been in towards the upper-deck, away from his intended location at the deck and began scrambling with the harnesses of the cannons mere minutes before the anomaly. Say one thing for the harpy, he was quite good at taking precautions thanks to his natural cowardice as his bell rattled rather loudly in his constant shaking.

When the storm hit, the bird instantly ran back downstairs, following the captain's orders quite happily as he avoided the rain and began searching once again for any holes leaking
Fable Alteras

 

[June Verles]

Grulashk Magrbak​

Before Grulashk could refuse the drink Grimgal offloaded onto him the thrice blessed magus was already too far away. The orc cook eyed the bottle disinterested, after all it was too early to drink, something Grimgal only did after 8pm after having supper as he heard from a royal nutritionist they captured for ransom a while back. Still wasting precious supplies was disrespectful, so he was just going to put in the storage room for late-

At that point the deck rocked which surprised him, making him instinctively close his fist and shattering the bottle into tiny little pieces that either got embedded into his skin or fell on the deck floor. He looked in disgust at his hand, being more annoyed by the fact that it was now sticky and he wasted a perfectly fine half-bottle of rum rather than the glass shards. Nonetheless time wasn't on his side, turning his head towards his fellow cook he shouts a quick order before rushing into the lower decks;

"Marceline! Aam gonnae secure th' storage room an' 'en help wi' bailin' it th' water, help harper wi' th' holes. " and moral support, but since that was a given he decided it wasn't necessary to mention.

Soon he was bellow deck in the storage room with a long thick piece of rope that he proceeded to throw around their food supplies tying them together between two support pillars to reduce the amount they would move. After that as he'd promise he was at the bottom of the ship, with a big pot throwing gallons of water out of the canon holes at a time. However to him it wasn't quickly enough, so after resorting to apologize to the bosun later he punched a bigger hole into the side of the hull at which he proceeded to increase the rate he was throwing out water.

Alteras Birdsie Fable