Fantasy &nbsp; On Treacherous Tides &amp; Whirling Winds IC

Tarmagon

"Huhhh, misunderstanding," Naga said lazily as he watched everyone stand around with heads to cool for his liking. As it turns out, he wouldn't be able to chop someone up...and after he was so excited too. He wasn't particularly interested in the strange woman's history with captain, or the random new faces that were probably old faces he couldn't remember. All he knew, was that he was sleepy, they weren't moving and he definitely wasn't stepping out on land. Without a word, or interest in what was going on, Naga decided to walk off back to his bed....wherever it is. He didn't dare go to the shore by himself. Knowing his luck the entire crew would get lost like they always do. (No he would get lost) So he spent most of his time on the ship watching the clouds and the sea, occasionally going for a swim to avoid losing his mind.

------------

The 2 weeks went by pretty fast in his eyes. He didn't have to worry about navigating as long as they were stuck. He just made sure there weren't any more intruders who may or may not have a relationship with the Captain prior to their intrusion. Finally they were getting ready to leave and be out on the ocean again. He wasn't sure where they were going, but it didn't really matter. He sat on the edge of the ship awaiting orders. He didn't sense anything out of the ordinary across the sea.

EccentricFantasy · Jun 8, 2019

Mordune
Location: The Whimsical Lady
Interactions: N/A

It had been a long time since Mordune took to sea after destroying five Maerin Navy Galleons in their port. He had forgotten how long he was at sea, but it was all the same. The Maerin Military had labeled him a traitor to the country he fought so hard to make proud to have him. It was something that filled him with hatred of those in power. The very people he fought to honor and serve, now spat on his wanted poster, but that was to be expected. If his count was right, he had killed at least 13 high ranking, corrupted Generals. So, he was alright with their hate and knew it served to fuel his need to purge the people who plagued his land and the people he loved.

After he finally made land fall he found himself somewhere in a place called 'Booty Bay'. From what he could gather he was very far from Maerin. So, he figured he may as well celebrate. He found himself a pub and sat down at the bar to begin his time of drink and merriment. Slowly, but surely, he drained what little funds he had on drinks. He had no feeling of burn at all, but he could feel the drunkenness as it set in. Once it had he began to sing with some local girls who were happily singing with the unkept man. In all honesty, he thought about shaving, but he had grown to like the beard. He got up and danced happily around with a lovely red haired woman to the wonderful shanty music that filled the pub. However, the fun was quickly stopped when a man grabbed his shoulder. Mordune drunkenly turned to see a rather large man who looked even larger compared to Mordune's current emaciated form.

The man growled as he looked at Mordune "You tryin to consort with ma wife stranger?"

This man clearly had some sort of influence because as he spoke, many other men rose and surrounded Mordune. In his drunken state he was less receptive to this situation, but even not drunk he couldn't do much to stop this. He looked around and then back to the main man. With a smile on his face he spoke with a heavy accent "Well...." His words thick with booze and broken by breaths "....can't help it if she wants somethin a bit.....more."

Before Mordune could really register anything the other man landed a clean right hook to Mordune's nose. All of the other men smiled and laughed at the action, thinking Mordune was just another drunk. The woman gasped at the punch and the bar keep was about to stop them, but they all stopped and looked in shock. Mordune's head turned back around with his nose crooked to one side. They were so lost for words and a few of the men backed away. How could any man look so calm with their nose like that? Then, to add to the shock Mordune took his nose and reset it. There was cracking and disgusting sounds from his nose as blood poured out. The men all prepare for a fight with fear in their eyes. Mordune simply smiled as he spoke "Fine......we play my game."

With that the fight was on. Mordune punched straight to the side and landed a clean jab to one of the other men, pushing their nose directly into the mans skull. As that man fell to the ground lifeless, Mordune turned and gave the man to his other side a sweeping kick, breaking the other mans knee fracturing every other bone in his leg. As that attacker fell screaming Mordue was grabbed and bound by the man behind him as the first male began to drive powerful punches into the Berserk Monsters skinny stomach. They continued for a few second while Mordune laughed. Finally the original male backed away in exhaustion and fear as Mordune smirked. He then swung his body, using the force to throw the male holding him into a pillar. With the lackey's disposed of, Mordune cracked his knuckles with a smile as he walked towards the original fight started. He chuckled as the man fell back, but stopped as he watched this much larger male develop a dark spot between his legs. Mordune sighed and grabbed the bottle he had paid for "Your a pitiful excuse for a man. Not worth my time."

Mordune left the tavern with the bottle and every person in the establishment with a look of pure, unexpected fear in their hearts. Now that he had ruined a bar he needed a new place to relax till he set sail again. However, where was he to go? Looking around he tried to find some place and noticed a ship. Or maybe a brothel? He was too drunk to tell or care. Not to mention he left his money at the tavern to pay for the damages. So, he decided to just climb on. He looked and found an open cannon port. He walked himself up to the ship and took a huge leap. This leap fractured his own legs on top of the leg fractured he suffered from the kick he delivered in the pub. However, since he didn't feel a thing he landed gently on the port. He climbed in and looked around. It was a pretty ship. He took another massive chug of his rum and then decided to relax. After a moment of looking he found a hammock. Well, honestly a few hammocks, but he only needed one. He struggled a little to hop on, but eventually finds his place and lays down. He closes his eyes as he swings back and forth slowly, every so often taking a large swig from his bottle of rum.

After a while he opened his eyes and looked at his fully tattooed arm. He sighed remembering when he got the tattoo's and who they were for. The ink in his skin meant for those he served with, now reminded him of their meaningless death by a corrupted leader who was supposed to care for them. It was sickening and angered him. He wanted to kill them all. To destroy the corrupt people who dared mock the kingdom and people he loved so much. In his anger he slams his fist into a beam from the hammock he was in. The beam shattered, but was still intact. It broke most of the bones in his hand and caused a loud noise and vibration to ripple through the ship, alerting anyone on board of his presence on the ship.

mikyuu · Jun 9, 2019

Moray Du’Count

Location: The Whimsical Lady | Interacting with:

Birdsie | Mentions:

LazyDaze

Kiroshiven

Moray wander about the ship with no particular intent in mind. It’d been a two weeks since they’d first arrived at the bay. Other than the increase in drew, nothing too special occurred. Being stuck in the bay with not actually sailing was slowly driving Moray mad. He couldn’t stand being still on land, he needed the constant waves of the ocean to keep him sane. Plus his land sickness was really starting to get to him considering all his meals were basically eaten on land. He wanted so badly to head out to sea once again; which luckily for him was happening soon. The captain had declared they were finally ready to set out, and nothing could have made him happier. This set in a rare smile on his face. Those who knew him well would have clearly seen that his mood was significantly lighter, but to most it still looked like he was sulking. It wasn’t that he tried to look this way, he was simply born with it. On top of that he wasn’t exactly very expressive in his emotions. Moray thought about possibly chatting with Naga until they set off to sea since they’re conversations were usually pleasant. Thought the irritation in his head was driving him up a wall.

His head felt like someone was constantly shaking and hitting a rock against it. Usually Moray would wait it out until they got to sea, but after two weeks of dealing with his land sickness, he was honestly done with waiting. He decided it would be best to pospone his chat with Naga later after he got some remedy for his headache. Plus they’d probably need to speak with the Captain too later about where they’re headed. It always took him a while to recover from his sickness so the faster a medicine could work, the better. The most logical idea at this point was to go to one of the doctors of the ship and ask for anything they’d have. They would be his best bet to find anything useful for his pain. Grimgal instantly popped into his mind as he thought about going to the ship’s doctors. He was highly skilled in magical techniques and could probably brew up a good potion that could cure his headache quicker than time and rest.

He walked below deck to where Grimgal resided. Moray had never been much of man for manners and simply stepped into the surgeon’s office without announcement or knocking. This was something most of the crew has gotten used to given the amount of time he’s already been on the ship. As he walked in he bumped into one of the newer recruits. Being much broader and heavier in stature, he almost knocked the woman over. Again, not being much of a talker or one of proper mannerism, Moray made the slightest of eye contact and quiet half hearted apology. He was not a man of pleasantries. If the woman wanted a more flowery apology, she’d be asking the wrong person. It was already out of character for him to say anything to the woman. If he’d knocked into her in the streets, Moray wouldn’t even have given her a second thought.

Continuing his way inside, Moray made his way over to Grimgal. The older gentleman was seated at his desk intently staring at a pile of ash. Moray could conclude by his particularly out of whack posture and expensive whiskey that Grimgal’s parrot Edward had reached the end of his current lifespan. Knowing it was probably not the best time to be interacting with the mad scientist, Moray tried to make his request out as quick as possible. With his typical emotionless flat voice he asked, “Headache medicine?”

hidden scroll ~ code by Ri.a

Meme Machine · Jun 9, 2019

Pandora

Location: Docks
Outfit: Black cloak and pants, white shirt
Mood: Annoyed/Hopeful
Interactions:

LazyDaze

Pandora was running through the streets, the black satchel she had stolen gripped in her hands. Her dark curly hair was bouncing all over the place, making it hard for her to see. Normally, she would have it in a ponytail, but she hadn’t been expecting to get caught today. This was the fifth time on the past two weeks, five times she had been caught. Four times she had escaped. She was still waiting to see about this.

Hearing the shouts and curses of the man she had stolen from and his friend behind her, Pandora searched for a way out. She spied and ally way that lead directly to the docks, and took it hastily. Five times was too many. She needed out. Having her black hood from her cloak up, she bolted into the mass of people around her, and slung the satchel over her shoulder.

It had started out as a pretty normal day. Woke up, stole some bread and apples, rummaged around for some spare coins and money, stole a pouch of coins or two, and then this satchel. A tall man, random, didn’t even catch his face, was standing in line for some spices, when Pandora got a bit to curious and confidant. She snatched the bag, but and old lady from the window saw. She yelled out to the man, and then he caught Pandora. Slugged her in the face, giving her a small cut under her eye, and probably a bruise too. So she took off. Ran up and down streets, with him hot on her tail. Which led her to right nows predicament.

Halfway to the docks, Pandora whisked around a corner, and saw the mans friend run past, followed closely by the man himself. She sighed heavily in relief, and brushed her shoulders. She kept her cloak up, and emptied the contents of the bag. She sighed in sadness as she saw it probably wasn’t worth the chase. Some coins, a little book with writing she couldn’t read (Pandora couldn’t read much at all, in fact. She had never been taught.) a pencil, a small dagger, and a stretch of yellow fabric.

Narrowing her eyes in disappointment, Pandora strapped the dagger to her leg, placed the coins in her own personal pouch, and grabbed the ribbon. She tilted her head before smiling slightly, and wrapping her hair in a tight ponytail. Her curly hair gave her ponytail and poofy look, but not in a bad way.

“Well, not the worst it could’ve been, I guess.” She murmured to herself, before leaving the book and the bag in the ally. She wandered into the market place, still headed down the docks. While she searched, she saw a boat with only one word she could read.

“Lady....” She spoke to herself. Or at least, that’s what she thought it said. She shrugged, and headed in that direction. It looked almost ready to pull off, which for her specific circumstance, was perfect. She just really hoped no one on board had heard of her being a thief. And good Lord forbid a ‘murderer’. Which she wasn’t. It had been self defense.

As she approached, she saw many people on board, moving about. She spotted a man with a snake tattoo on his face, sitting on the edge of the boat and not seeming too busy. With her hood still up, she tried waving to the person and catching his attention.

“Hello there! How are you? I had some questions about this ship and her crew here. Could you perhaps direct me to the captain?” Pandora tried her best to sound nice, and not desperate. She knew if the man or his friend saw her here, she was dead meat.

kevintheradioguy · Jun 12, 2019

"I hope we'll be prepared next time. This is ridiculous. We have a beautiful ship, a great crew, and what for? Look at this mess!" These were the words of the tall elf to any random crew mate he was working with for the next day or two, bringing the vessel back to its original state. Just hammering the holes wasn't enough for him... and for the captain - or so he suspected. All the intricate railing and the carving, the paint, the everything should've been looking like the ship was just out of the yard, and this was her first voyage. Weevil's grumpiness combined with his self-absorbed perfectionism almost turned him in a stereotypical old man who was mumbling curses while doing the job he actually liked. He'd much rather take the navigator's seat, of course, but his natural talents implied better job with whether quartermaster or bossun duties. And when the job was over, he... actually was rather lost. He lived in the sea, and he preferred it. Cities and ports were hanging over him like birds of prey,stone walls strangling the man, and looming gloomily over his head, ready to crumble on top. This wasn't a phobia - just discomfort of the lack of vast space around him. Still, while most of the people had their fun in the Bay, and he had already won or lost in cards with the rest, heard and told all the stories, and exchanged rumours, there was nothing else to do but get out of the hull, and have a look at the bay, probably finding something to entertain himself with.

It was sunny, and so, picking up a hat with the widest brims he had to keep his eyes in sweet shadow - and prepping up as he usually did - the elf with a bouncy walk moved downfrom the ramp, to immediately see a tiny, but curious commotion in the port. Some lady was screaming over the thin line of water, asking about the captain. He walked slowly past her, looking her over with the corner of his eye, trying to figure out who the bloody hell it was. She looked quite... ordinary, all things considered, albeit somewhat shaken, as if someone was chasing her. Which wasn't new - it's a pirate bay they were in, after all. Passing just a few yards, he turned around, walking around her in a hook, almost like a wolf hunting its prey, and stopped on the other side of the woman. Albeit, despite wolves, there was the most courteous little smile on his face, and a soft expression in his dark eyes. "Are you invited?" He asked, regarding her plea for the captain. The elf cocked his head a little, giving her a short look once more. "You look like you're on the run from someone. Are you in trouble, and trying to hide on the ship?" His smile grew in an entertained grin, and for a moment it almost looked like he was about to tell her to piss off. Instead, however, he turned to the ship, lifting his head up to the fussy crew, calling out. "Oi, mister Harper!" He screamed. "Could you come down here for a moment?" He knew that the fluffy friend was dealing with newcomers, and wanted to present another neer-do-well to him, before going about his business.

Meme Machine |

fluticasone · Jun 12, 2019

[import]9420182[/import][div class="body"]
[div style="font-size: 4vh; margin-left: 3vh; letter-spacing: -.05em;"]yvonne[/div]
Yvonne gathered the last of her things, packing them all in her bags. Slipping one of the straps over her shoulder, she frowned at the weight. She'd forgotten how easy it was to collect things when you were on land, especially in a place as well-stocked as Booty Bay. Her stint in the clinic was meant to be brief, but the ship's delayed arrival extended her stay in the area. As a result, she had more ingredients for her medical pursuits. Good news for the crew, but she was the one who'd have to haul the things into the ship.

Today was the last day of the Whimsical Lady's stay in Booty Bay. She'd heard the news of their arrival and the state the ship had been in. Instead of coming over and doing absolutely nothing, she'd opted to stay on land. She sent a note via courier that she would be procuring more specific supplies. There was some truth in that message, but really most that Yvonne did was read her books and nap. She wouldn't be surprised if the Captain knew the truth, but she hadn't been dragged away by the crew, which meant she hadn't really been needed.

Saying her goodbyes to the temporary team, Yvonne made her way to the docks.

---

The crisp sea breeze blew her hair back, and she welcomed it. She climbed onto the deck, giving a cheeky salute to the Captain when their gazes met. There were a few new faces, but one way or another they always found their way down to Grimgal and her. Those who recognized her waved hello, but none stopped what they were doing. All were busy in their last minute preparations to set sail. The noise of the crew scurrying about was a welcome one; she'd missed the controlled chaos that came with having this many people afoot. Before any could ask her to help out, she made her way below, heading straight for the surgeon's office.

An eyebrow raised as she noticed the door to her workspace standing ajar. The old man rarely left that open. Stranger still was the quiet. She quickened her pace, the weight of her bags making themselves known. Just before she entered she heard their Sailing Master's voice requesting something for a headache. True enough, she found Moray and Grimgal in the room. More noticeable, however, was Edward's absence. That would explain why she didn't hear anything, and why the head surgeon was much more subdued. Upon further perusal of the room was an egg. It was that time. Yvonne had never witnessed it personally, but suspected it probably involved fire.

With a thud, she put her things on the floor, stowing them underneath her desk. Reaching into the shelves behind it, she grabbed the appropriate jar. It was a common request, so she knew the exact glassware she used to store the medication. Yvonne quietly made her way to where Grimgal and Moray stood, knowing now wasn't the time to get into a verbal spar with the old man as she often did.

"Long time no see, everyone." Without preamble, she handed the bottle to their navigator. She spoke concisely, her tone brisk as she gave him the dosage. "Two spoonfuls. It's fairly sour with an incredibly bitter aftertaste, so find something to wash it down with."

[div style="font-size: .65em;"]

Birdsie

mikyuu [/div][/div]

Meme Machine · Jun 12, 2019

Pandora

Location: Docks
Outfit: Black cloak and pants, white shirt
Mood: Nervous
Interactions:

Pandora’s hood hid most of her features, except her bright hazel eyes. She wondered how many people were on this ship, and how many were even human. She looked at the man, and was a little intimidated. The man was very tall, compared to her, and he looked like he was searching for a reason to kick her out.

She stuttered over her words nervously as he asked questions she hadn’t really been expecting.

“Invited...? Oh, um....” She trailed off, and then he asked her the second question. “Running away? Uh, no I don’t think so.....” She subconsciously reached for her pocket, a torn down poster of her wanted frame folded inside. This man wasn’t even human, and that made her nervousness worse.

She even jumped, her hood falling back as she did, when the man called for a ‘Harper’. Who was Harper? Was it some person instructed to escort unwanted personnel off the premises? She took a step backwards, ready to run if things took a turn for the worse.

Birdsie · Jun 12, 2019

GRIMGAL TRISMEGISTUS

Surgeon's Office

Grimgal noticed the appearance of someone else in the room, and grated his teeth in annoyance. He had half a mind to grab Edward and go out, but a phoenix's hatching was a bitch to deal with. The room was already warded to eat up any fire Edward's forming might generate.

Since the navigator's issue wasn't life-threatening, Grimgal promptly ignored it and kept watching the egg like a dragon guarding his hoard.

To his fortune, Yvonne was nice enough to do the healing for him.

The old man made a mental note to return the favor later - a bit of voodoo to spruce up her luck for a day, or maybe he'd look favorably upon a strange request or two.

"Mmh," Grimgal grunted from where he stood in acknowledgment. He was far too occupied trying to discern if any flaws were developing in the egg - outright paranoid about it. The process could be problematic if you weren't watchful enough, and Grimgal would rather chop off a hand (to be fair, he could probably grow it back anyway, given time,) than let Edward - his best and only true friend - come out as some half-formed aberration.

The egg, within the pile of ash, released a single sound, deep from within its crust. Grimgal peeled his ears, his eyelids widening a millimeter. A single crack, but it remained unfollowed by any other sounds...

Some of the hairline fractures were roused, the small trickles of magma within beginning to dance and flow in a lively, energized manner.

Not yet, then, but soon, he thought. Probably within the hour.

He spared a glance in the direction of the other people in the room.

A part of him was annoyed at their presence and voted to ignore it altogether, but his better nature knew that people couldn't be trusted. If he lowered his guard even a little, his best friend would be gone; swiped and stolen, and he might never see him again. It was ironic - the old man truly felt lonely but believed no one except the phoenix would truly keep him company.

Grimgal had friends like anyone, but Edward was his only 'true' friend. In his frame of mind, everyone else was an enemy, or a potential enemy, against the two of them.

Without Edward, Grimgal was alone, though he'd never admit it outright; to Edward, himself, or anyone else.

Grimgal hid his annoyance and prevented himself from provoking the group in his office or yelling at them to leave. They were crewmates. Instead, he decided being polite and helpful might make them leave faster.

"If the headache doesn't seize up, try that," Grimgal said, pointing at a purple flask on a shelf without looking away from the egg. "It's the best anesthetic I have: disables any neural transmissions of pain forcibly. No more than a teaspoon daily. Potential side-effects - especially when overused - include, in ascending order of likelihood: numbness, addiction, partial paralysis, dysentery, full paralysis, nerve damage, brain damage, and heart failure."

After his short, mechanical speech, Grimgal fell silent again. He stared at the egg with pleading eyes. Please, hatch already...

Interactions: NPCs (

Fable ),

fluticasone

Kiroshiven

Pilgrim59 · Jun 13, 2019

La Noire
The Whimsical Lady

Interacted: Oliver (

shadowz1995 )
Mentioned: Vyxyl (

Fable )

Written with:

shadowz1995

As long as Oli was fed, there were few times he genuinely acted like a zombie with its strings cut loose. Just…. Walking around aimlessly. A lost husk roaming around without a master to control its actions.

This was one of those times and it wasn't without good reason. It had been two weeks since Oliver had last refueled and his hold on himself was beginning to slip. He wandered aimlessly and silently back and forth on the ship in search of one thing. The last thing on his mind before his consciousness slipped away.

His arm.

It had fallen off along with the decay of his mana and he was searching for it before he lost consciousness. So, for the past few hours he had been roaming around for it. It was only now that his sense of self returned to him and he was able to snap out of that fugue-like state he was in. Normally, he would just go into town and kill someone to consume some more energy but with the Captain's ship being under repairs, it just wasn’t possible. People didn't take kindly to zombies. Even in a place like Booty Bay, where all manner of scum were allowed.

Greyed eyelashes closed several times before the lost look in his eyes dissipated and Oliver was back to normal. He shook his head free of the whispers and fog before returning to his search in a more dedicated manner this time. "Where….." he growled under his breath.

Across the deck, stood the necromantress, whose hands were tucked behind her back, as she curiously cast her gaze upon a certain object that was quite foreign to be found lying about. At the sheer command of her breath, the dark energies that surrounded her dissipated, as the barrels settled in place near the main mast. Getting on her knees, Noire’s hands carried the object of her interests, as she studied it quizzically.

An arm. A profoundly warm one, at that. Despite being far from the reach of its owner.

The witch’s ears twitched, as she slowly turned to her left. Putting up a warm smile, the necromancer made her way towards Oliver, with his arm in tow.

“Do you require an arm?” the witch asked, trying her best not to laugh at her own joke.

Two weeks had passed since their uneasy meet. Needless to say, it was quite a progress for Oliver to not blast her away, given his initial distrusts - especially towards her self-proclaimed profession as a necromancer. Yet, here they were aboard the Whimsical Lady. Noire’s amber eyes narrowed at the thoughts, somewhat relieved that she even made it as part of the crew. Aside from the routines that Oliver had shown her, everything else was more or less a nice change of pace. While she was not cut out to handle the heavier things, Noire made up in her intelligence where she lacked in raw strength. Using dark magic to help her move things and her agile form to maneuver around the ship, she fared quite well for a newcomer.

Brushing aside these thoughts, the necromancer realigned Oliver’s arm, twisting it around as if she was playing with a doll, despite her earnest eyes being fixed upon re-attaching his limb. Following a few pasty sounds, Oliver was able to move his hand again. Elated and quite proud of her handiwork, the witch put up a bright smile.

The zombie looked down at his now-found-and-reattached arm with an unexplainable expression on his face. He got his arm back, which was a good thing, but now the problem was that he needed to replenish his dissipating mana. Someone on board was going to have to feed him their power or he was going to need to kill something and consume it.

Whatever he was going to do, it needed to be done soon.

Oli kept staring for some time before his gaze finally turned towards the cat-eared witch, “Thank…...you…...for…..putting it…..back…….on…...and…...for…...finding it…..” He luminescent ire snapped upwards towards the horizon and he couldn’t help but lightly shake his head. “Losing…..hold…..of…..my…..consciousness…...Can….you…..request…..for the…..Captain…..to…..find someone…...who can…...feed me…..?” It was quite apparent that while Oliver could see Noire but he wasn’t completely aware of who she was. While he tolerated her presence on the ship, and he didn’t think she was better off dead anymore, to say he was comfortable around her or trusted her was a step too far.

So, for him to be speaking to the necromancer as if she was any other member of the crew was strange to say the least. One might even say out of character for him.

Noire studied Oliver for a brief while. Despite getting off on the wrong foot some time ago, the necromantress was somewhat elated to hear Oliver utter those words. She pondered upon it for a few brief seconds, before turning to the man.

“Perhaps I can be of service? I understand you may harbor reluctance, but I am capable to keep you on your feet, lest we bother the Captain. Besides, you can always throw me overboard, should you deem it necessary.” Noire remarked.

Somewhere in the back of the pyromancer's head, he was screaming that this was a bad idea. If she felt it necessary, she could exert her will over him with necromancy and have him torch the whole ship and everyone on it. He didn't have the confidence that he would be able to put up much resistance.

Everything else in his head cried out for sustenance. For survival. It drowned out the screaming voice somewhere in the abyss of shattered memories that was Oliver's mind.

He listlessly nodded his head to the witch's proposal, "Under…..stood…..captain…..said….I should be…..more…..self-driven….captain…..doesn't….comprehend…...the….difficulty….." he managed to groan out in a very zombie-like manner.

Noire let out a sigh of relief, given Oliver’s conforming voice. The necromancer twirled her wrist slightly, conjuring up a blanket of violet energies that circled her undead acquaintance. Her hand found Oliver’s arm, as she went about the transfusion. Withdrawing a scroll from her satchel, Noire nibbled on her thumb, as her blood dripped onto the parchment. A faint, but distinct set of glowing lights emitted from the scroll. Before long, the transfusion of mana and blood was complete. It was one of the few times her transfusion ability was put to great use. The witch gave a sigh of relief, having finished her part. The scroll would dissipate into thin air, as if melting away at the sheer touch of her hand.

“I believe that should sustain you for some time. Dried prunes?” Noire smiled, withdrawing some sun-dried prunes from her satchel and offered it to Oliver. Her tail swished fro and forth, as she nibbled on one. Discerning its nutritions, prunes are responsible for increasing one’s red blood cells, or at least it was scientifically observed by the self-proclaimed biomarinist necromantress - neverminding countless creatures that she had to slice open to support said observations.

Clarity flooded back into the mage's eyes and with it, so did the realization of exactly what he just did or rather, allowed to happen.

Oliver took a reflexive step back and stared at the witch with renewed suspicion.

Suspicion that ...surprisingly quickly faded. She had helped him just now and truly didn't ask for anything in return. She even reattached his arm for him without even asking.

Oli hated to admit it but having an actual necromancer around to mend his ever faltering body and mind was far more useful than he initially considered. The threat of being controlled was ever present but no one could keep him together like a death mage could. Zombies and Death mages went hand in hand after all. Oliver was just an enigma when it came to that relationship.

His guttural, zombie growl voiced discontent at finding himself thinking better of this witch but nonetheless, Oliver had manners. When it came to things like this anyway.

"Thank…..you… Ms. Noire….." he groaned out.

The necromancer conceded with his expression of gratitude and put up an affectionate smile his way. Tucking her hands behind her back, Noire's tail went fro and forth, quite elated by her deeds. It was comforting for her to acknowledge the dissipating rigidness of their initial encounter. Slowly, but assuredly.

Fable · Jun 14, 2019

(

Meme Machine )

(

EccentricFantasy Your character's last post was retconned for the simple fact that him punching a beam would have been noticed, but since you hadn't really tagged anyone they probably assumed you weren't interacting with anyone or anything on the ship. As such he's in the brig to correct to a natural progression in regards to his actions.)

(Liberty has ended, back to 1 post per round. For those new this means one post after a GM post. GM posts are once per week. The plan is for one round and then a timeskip to next port!)

Location: The Whimsical Lady

Vyxyl continued to stand there a bit stiffly, her pose and expression probably giving off an intimidating aura to those who glanced her way. Granted the repairs had been quicker due to her deal with the port crews and during this time crew members were swapped out, she was frustrated still. Having a relic was a beacon for trouble and they'd lingered here way too long and surely someone on her crew opened their mouth while in a drunken stupor. Perhaps she'd have Grimgal give exams which would be more like interrogation and allow Grimgal to administer a serum to see who had blabbed.

As her First Mate relayed information about the lack of rum and how long their ration would last their next voyage she merely blinked. When he told her news about Grimgal behaving in a subdued manner she frowned. "Leaving Grimgal be in any state is a terrible idea. Like a child who has been silent for too long and when you seek them out they've clearly been up to no good," she commented and raised a hand to her chin.

"Best have someone keep an eye on him and figure out what has set his mood low. As far as the issue of rations, if our destination remains on its current course we should reach it in a month's time, give or take a few days perhaps for weather and such. Now then about our unwanted guest that drunkenly wandered onto my ship without notice and caused damage to a beam. I want the Bosun to double check the beam and repair it."

It was at this moment of the discussion that their other surgeon boarded the ship and gave Vyxyl a cheeky salute. "You would think her attitude would have improved after being left to relax on the island," she muttered under her breath very aware of Yvonne's excuses to stay on land. The ruckus that was happening off the ship drew her attention as her Bosun was circling around a feminine figure.

"What now?" she shouted out as she walked over to the railing closest to where the two where. "I have a ship to get the hell moving. If she wants to join the crew just bring her aboard. If we don't like her later we can just toss her overboard or leave her at our next destination. I care not besides getting back out to sea!"

With that she started barking out her orders in a harsh voice for everyone to prepare to set sail, giving those who still lingered ashore to rush back to the ship and pull up the gangway. There was an increased flurry of activity as everyone did their duties. Ropes were pulled, sails adjusted, crew shouting out at each other. Soon enough the ship gently floated away from the airdock and Vyxyl nodded at the helmsman.

The Whimsical Lady had officially left Booty Bay.

It wasn't until a few hours into their voyage that word had gotten out of where they were headed; Rumblood Isle. Home of the Pirate King Captain Freya 'Fury' Draegan and the infamous moving pirate port that was impossible to find unless you had a particular item. Vyxyl would have to constantly check for any movements of the port and adjust their course as needed, though she could guesstimate their direction unless they suddenly decided to be evasive.

At it's current location it would take them about a month to reach their destination. Hopefully during that time they'd not have any problems and the ship would avoid damage. "Mister Tyr, go check on the guest in the brig. I'll see whatever this girl wants." She went down the steps and onto the deck and much like Weevil she circled around the girl. "Now then, why were you making a fuss on the docks? You're stuck here until we make berth so you best spill your story or you might find yourself in a less hospitable place."

Noble Scion · Jun 14, 2019

Harper Jules

The much-too-pure-hearted-to-be-a-pirate-yet-was harpy had been in the middle of finishing off the details of their little supply collection while everyone else seemed to be dealing with one of their "newcomers", and he would have much preferred it to stay that way but fate was not to have it, and before long he heard that oh-so-familiar call of "Harper". The only thing he found pleasing about the sudden request of his presence was the formality of hearing the term "mister" before his name, which was much more happy to hear than "bird-brain" or anything else their captain could come up with on the spot.

Judging by the sound of the voice, he assumed either it was the elf in their ranks or something that was mimicking them to feast upon some owl harpy legs. The thought made him laugh at its incredulousness, yet he still took a little more time to prepare himself on his way there, just in case, scribbling down a note with something along the lines of "Don't read horror novels before bed anymore."

The wonderful sight of Dokkalfar, their cruel-mouthed leader, and a dark-skinned woman whom he didn't recognise met his eyes, in which he tried his best to hold eye contact and prevent himself from fidgeting all the time like he usually did.

Mustering up all the authority he had in his chest, he muffled a squawk, much like how a regular person might cough before saying something important, and straightened his posture.

"Good afternoon." he said, glancing up to the sky briefly, moving to the captain herself before returning his large yellow eyes back to the woman, sighing to relieve some of the constriction on his chest from the anxiety of meeting yet another unpredictable anthropoid while simply waiting for the next insult at his expense to be made by the commander of the whimsical lady, "I am the quartermaster, I-I'm.. Assuming your part of the crew? I-if so, I uh.. Might need your name.. And.. How much your c-contract is.." he mumbled, seemingly deflating rather rapidly as he failed to hold on to his pretence of having control over the situation.

He really wanted some more books.

Meme Machine

Meme Machine · Jun 14, 2019

Pandora

Location: Whimsical Lady
Outfit: Black cloak and pants, white shirt
Mood: Nervous
Interactions:

Pandora jumped again as a woman leaned over the ships railing, practically barking out to them. She had to assume that the woman was the captain; right after the woman yelled at her and then went right back to her crew, yelling out what to do. Pandora didn’t like the sound of throwing her overboard, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

She slightly shrunk back into her cloak, and placed her feet so she quietly went around the..... dark elf? She didn’t know. He looked like a dark elf, but she wasn’t going to assume. Whatever he was, she went around him, laughing nervously, and shot up the side of the ship, leaving no marking and flawlessly going over the railing. As she placed her feet on the deck, she almost immediately tripped over a rope.

“This is going to be interesting. I’ll have to get used to it.” She spoke mostly to herself, but that didn’t matter. She looked around, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do. The captain or first mate might come talk to her, but she didn’t want to seek them out. Going to the railing, she looked out across the ocean, and sighed. It was beautiful. She had been on a ship before, but not ever as a crew member. Mostly just seeking passage.

Pandora heard a voice, and saw a woman circling her, much like the dark elf had done. Now that she got a closer look, she saw the woman was in fact very pretty, but had a small scar across her cheek that added an intimidation feature. Pandora stood tall, and figured if she could pretend to be confidant, it would come naturally.

Something about this woman intimidated her. Maybe it was because of her scar, or the fact that she was an elf. Either way, Pandora felt like if she lied, she would have hell to pay. Sighing, she brought out her wanted poster, and handed it to the woman. Was that worth it? If she tosses her off now, at least she was reasonably close to shore. She might as well.

“Well..... my name is Pandora. I’m supposedly a criminal.... but I didn’t murder anyone! I’ve killed someone, yeah, but it was self defense . That’s a lie that they put on there.” She rubbed her arms together, and tried to watch the woman for a reaction.
“I don’t really have a family, and I jump from place to place a lot. I don’t know what else they put on there, because I can’t read, but I can tell you anything you would like to know....?” The end sounded more like a question than a statement, and her posture changed from pretending to be confidant, to actually being nervous.

Her attention was taken as a harpy approached her, and started speaking in a sophisticated tone. He seemed nervous, so she smiled nicely.

“Hello, sir. I was just telling your.... captain? My name is Pandora. It’s nice to meet you all.” She noticed the only people on this ships she had met so far were paranormal. Were any humans actually here?

LazyDaze · Jun 16, 2019

Naga the Lunatic

Mentions:

shadowz1995

Interactions:

Meme Machine

Naga's thoughts were interrupted by another new face asking where they're Captain was. He wondered if the crew was becoming some kind of open bar, and it was annoying him. Naga's hand inched toward his axe as he prepared to cut down another would be intruder. I mean who just goes around asking for the Captain. She was busy enough as it is. However, his original intent to kill was delayed by her bravery...or ignorance. She didn't seem scared at all. He was not unaware of his merfolk like appearance, so it was strange to be approached in such a straightforward manner. To be fair, they were on a pirate ship after all. Just as Naga was going to do some interrogating, their one sided conversation was interrupted by another crew mate who sent her into Harper's care before he could say or do anything. As she went on he finished his statement anyway. "The Captain's over there...," but of course no one was there. He suddenly got annoyed for some reason or another. "Everyone's so weird," he grumbled to himself.

After they were officially escaping Booty Bay's gravity Naga went to see the Captain. He had no reason in particular aside from seeing if there was any work he could pass off to Moray. He had overheard the conversations already in progress before he could say anything. It was Harper and the intruder who was actually not an intruder. He stood next to Harper with a confused expression as he looked at the newcomer with a bit of pity. Similar to how one would look at a lost puppy.

"...….Did she just try to prove her innocence...on a pirate ship?" Naga accidently said aloud, but he just played it off as if he was speaking to Harper. He was a simple man, but not a simpleton. He preferred to only do what needed to be done, and say what needed to be said. She would have done better owning up to her crimes, or saying nothing at all. It wasn't like they were going to judge her; in fact, Naga was going to kill her just a few moments ago. "We have a man eating zombie..." Naga said as he continued to verbally express his inner thoughts. Needless to say, his confusion did not subside. He nearly forgot his original purpose for coming here as he continued to wrap his mind around this situation. Once he remembered he shot a glance to the Captain but decided to wait before bombarding her with more tasks as he gave her a lazy salute. He was still pretty tired. He preferred late nights after all.

Doughnut · Jun 17, 2019

Taira Mako

"Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.”

Taira whistled when she seemed to be let off the hook though with the necessary precaution which was practically to be expected. It wasn’t as if she was the best of friends with the captain, neither did she feel that she had to be. She liked the way it was now and it would be odd if that were about to change in such a rapid pace. Some did so but that was only to their own benefits. Even if that were the case, Taira couldn’t just do a 180 when it comes to relationships. Letting her fingertips go over the wood of the ship which felt nice. Different from the wood on land. She finally felt like she was home again: on the seas. Not being able to see any land in the distance, just the way she liked it. If she were to ever die she would like it to be like a true pirate on the seas and not because of a misstep and be decapitated on the lands. One of the things she feared the most. She believed that if she died on the water, her soul would be set free and be able to explore the deepest corners of this world.

[TIME SKIP]

After having grown accustomed to the crew and the ship, Taira felt more at ease now that she knew where she could go to when it came to a tight situation in her disadvantage. Not that that would be the case knowing her. Stretching out her arms as she walked around and sat on one of the edges of the ship, as she overlooked her surroundings. Mostly a blue surface and sky which was calming to her. The only sounds were those of seagulls flying around or the crew bickering about something they couldn’t wrap their heads around.

Though the conversation of one particular woman caught her attention as they weren’t that far away from her presence. Standing up on the railing and making her way out of the shadows while keeping her balance perfectly despite the rocking ship. Squatting down next to the girl who was trying to say that she was not really a criminal which was quite amusing. Why would a supposedly innocent being even get on board a pirate ship in the first place. Did she completely lose her mind or something or was she just an idiot? She was also talking to that messed up merfolk person, who she seriously doubted that the guy had everything together. A comedy duo would come out of existence when they got together though? At least she hoped it would.

”So, you’re innocent despite killing someone intently?” Taira repeated after the girl with a raised eyebrow as she didn’t completely follow this vague storyline. ”Because if you are, then I must be a saint.” She commented as she thought about a logical follow-up.

mentions:

LazyDaze || with:

Meme Machine || location: The Whimsical Lady

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll

Tarmagon · Jun 17, 2019

"Cor Cap'n" Tyr said, turning a full circle to make certain no one had followed them out of Booty Bay. "Joo sure joo don' wan' me ta jus' t'row da nutter o'er da side an be done w'it im? N'er mind. I be seein' to dat l'il t'ing."

Captain Vyxyl was one of the few people on board who knew that when he chose, Tyr's speech was a clear and concise as an orator's. She also knew he tended to revert to the island dialect when under a lot of stress, or when he was subtly letting his disagreement with one of her choices show without the crew being any the wiser. There was no doubt that he would do what she had ordered to the best of his ability, whether or not he agreed, but he might be a trifle difficult to understand for a while. Satisfied with the set of the sails and the ship in general, Tyr headed for the ladder that led to the lower decks, making his way down into the bowels of the Lady. The ghost lights were glowing brightly, the spells on the crystals having been renewed while the Lady underwent repairs, so Tyr had no problems heading to the lowest deck, then forward towards the cable tier. Just off the port side of the cable tier sat the general brig, with the starboard side housing a smaller enclosure for high value 'guests'.

Pausing outside the brig, Tyr tried to recall everything he had been told about the rooms sole occupant. Found in one of the crew hammocks, did serious damage to one of the overhead beams with a punch, but also had done serious damage to himself with that same punch. Several of the crew who had detained and transferred the gentleman to the brig had commented on obviously broken bones, but the heavily tattooed man hadn't seemed to notice them in the slightest. It was only the fact that he appeared to be half drunk and so banged up that they had been able to get him into the brig at all. If he had been a troll, Tyr would have named him a berserker. Tyr was all in favor of throwing the man overboard and let the gods sort him out. Berserkers were dangerous to their enemies, but also to their allies as well, because once the battle frenzy took them, anything that moved was in danger. Oh well, orders were orders, and this was a human.

"Oy!" Tyr yelled, banging on the iron grate that served as a sturdy door to the brig before stepping back out of grab range. "Joo gots one chance ta tell me why joo don' go o'er da side w'it a roun' shot ta keep ya company. Best ta be makin' a quick tellin' o joor tale afore my patience goes 'way."

EccentricFantasy

EccentricFantasy · Jun 18, 2019

Mordune
Location: Brig of The Whimsical Lady
Interaction: Tyr (

Tarmagon )

To be fully honest, Mordune didn't really remember much of what happened. He was really drunk and the last thing he fully remembered was a few pirates throwing him in the brig. Well, he wanted some sleep, so only fought a little. After he got enough rest he woke up and looked to his arms and legs. They were bruised up, but still usable. At this point they must have been at least 50% damaged. Another forty and he would not be able to use them. However, that was plenty of time for him to destroy this ship on his way out. He sighed as he laid his head back, letting the day slip by till he heard something.

Upon looking over he saw a troll. This troll irritated him for some reason. Was it the idiotic way he spoke? Maybe it was his face? Mordune didn't know or care. Rather, he simply decided to play along. Just when he was about explain when he heard a threat. Suddenly, Mordune's face turns dark. His pale eyes become cold and soulless. He slowly stood and walked to the iron door. He stopped and the shadows made his face look like something from the pits of hell as he looked the troll in his eyes. Before he said anything he pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. It was his wanted poster from Maerin. It had a few details. It told he had a known kill count of 32 Maerin Military higher up's, it told that the scenes of murder were so graphic that battle hardened soldiers vomited upon seeing them. It also said his name. 'Mordune the Berserk Monster' and his bounty was a sum of money that seemed almost insane for one person.

He tossed the poster to Tyr and looked at the troll as he gripped two bars "I single handedly killed the crew of 3 gallian class Maerin Battleships and sank the ships bare handed before I left the Port of Sun." He began to pull the bars. The damage on his arms was clearly getting worse. His muscles could be heard ripping and his bones cracking and popping filled the air, but at the same time the bars were bending apart. He made it clear with the look of blood lust and the bars bending that he could sink the ship and kill Tyr with no effort "The last man who threatened me was a general of the Maerin military. I decorated a tree outside with his body. Looked like bloody Christmas and I loved every....God Forsaken....second of him screaming for me to stop." He stopped pulling the bars apart, but his arms were now at 85% damaged and the bars of the door were bent open wide enough for him to get out as he sat back down in the shadows of the brig, only his glowing eyes visible "Now, tell your captain that. Maybe get me some sort of healer, but threaten me again and I will paint this boat with your filthy blood and hang your skin as a flag." He began to laugh as he stared at the troll. It was clear. Every word he spoke was the truth. Or at least he was not trying to threaten Tyr. Rather, he was telling Tyr exactly what he planned to do.

Fable · Jun 22, 2019

(

Meme Machine )
(

EccentricFantasy Just an FYI the direction your PC is going is on a path to being executed.)

TIMESKIP OF ONE MONTH

Location: The Whimsical Lady

Naga was given charge of the one who had decided to stowaway on her ship and even had the balls to damage a beam; much to her annoyance. After Tyr had gone to check on the stranger in the brig, one of the crew had been down there cleaning had overheard the man's words and had scurried to report to her. Being bothered by a troublesome person on her ship had caused her eye to twitch in annoyance.

Vyxyl had angrily gone to the brig where Tyr was and who looked ready to execute the man if the man even sneezed wrong. She stood outside of the bent bars and crossed her arms over her chest. He was doing even more damage to her ship which she had just bloody fuckin' fixed! She glowered at him silently for a very long moment. "Now, I heard a bit of gossip you threatened to destroy my ship. Now, only an idiot would sink the only ship for miles in the middle of the ocean. Sure, you could cling to the remains that didn't sink to the depths and float adrift for some time, but after a while your thirst will ultimately kill you, if other things don't first."

Her expression shifted to one that relayed the message to not fuck with her. "I'll make this simple and clear for you to understand. You are to restore the bars to their correct position, sit in your cell and if you play nicely I won't personally see you left on a deserted island that flood in high tide. You may have strength, perhaps you'll manage to punch a hole or two into the hull before the crew manages to kill you. You'll be left here in this cozy little private room and perhaps if you play nice you'll live to see Rumblood Isle."

She left it at that. Should he retaliate in any way her orders were clear; kill him. Oliver also had been given additional permission to consume him afterwards. She had to keep her zombie crew fed and useful and if this male wanted to cause trouble she wasn't going to left the corpse go to waste.

Vyxyl yawned widely when she returned to the helm. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and she seemed to stare off into space. They'd been traveling for nearly a whole month in the general direction of Bloodrum Isle. For the most part it had stuck to its current course, with only a few shifts here and there. Nothing major to the point it would increase the time before they would reach the port. Vyxyl should have been pleased for such an uneventful journey after the damage that had occurred to the ship that they had just repaired.

She had opted to reduce the travel time but sticking mostly to the air to travel with her skyship. They'd drop down into the water once a week or so if they had spotted any signs there was a school of fish to get some fresh food aboard for the crew. Maybe even a bit of swimming for some additional entertainment, though she had nearly left someone behind out of spite and annoyance.

There had been a new crew member to join them; Pandora. She'd assigned Harper to tutor her in at least being able to read and write along with simple math. The less stupid her crew was the better. She didn't need to have some crew member coming back after signing some contract that they hadn't understood. It also gave those who wanted to learn something to do and kept Harper busy and one of his very few uses.

She was about to yawn once again when one of the crew on lookout shouted they had spotted their destination in the distance. Vyxyl perked up and squinted to see a speck on the horizon that had the familiar silhouette of Rumblood. The crew scurried to try and make sure they had optimal wind as they wanted to get there sooner rather than later. Vyxyl assisted using her wind ability and soon enough they were using one of the airdocks attached to the giant turtle that was the port of Rumblood.

When the crew had secured everything she gave orders to Naga to take their unnamed guest from the Brig and to take him ashore to what served as the ports own jail cells. If he caused trouble here toe Pirate King was going to order the whole port to hunt him down and kill him. Vyxyl would probably get in a bit of trouble, but she'd probably sweet talk her way out of a harsh punishment. She went to her quarters to retrieve the relic as well as going to drag Harper with her to bring her due offering to the Pirate King.

"Try not to be an embarrassment," Vyxyl commented to Harper as she informed her First Mate she was off to deal with official greeting to the Pirate King. "You may grant liberty when you see fit Mister Tyr." With that she set off towards the most central and grandest structure on the island.

Rumblood Isle would feel strange to those who set foot on it. It appeared like mountainous island and felt solid enough underfoot, but there was the most subtle feeling of movement and there was always a breeze. Like all other ports it had the basics, a brothel, tavern, general goods, and other stores for various needs, even a few small shops that sold trinkets, maps, or even intel for the right price. This was where the Pirate King reigned and she was not a woman you wanted to cross. The Pirate King would have every pirate hunt you down and have your head brought back if you pissed her off.

Those pirates who were curious about this place could try and sneak a peek at the great turtle's head, though the trek to get from the actual port to there was long and the head was heavily guarded so they'd only be able to view it at a distance. They could also go to the small theatre the Pirate King had set up where some strange theatrical pirates acted out weird plays they had penned, or just did improv. You could be either entertained if the act was good, or if it was bad you could be entertained by mocking them.

The crew of the Whimsical Lady could also always attempt to bond with each other on land, maybe seek out someone who had information on some treasure. Or perhaps just drink themselves into a stupor and wake up to find themselves nude and dumped somewhere random on the island.

EccentricFantasy · Jun 22, 2019

Mordune
Interactions: Tyr (

Tarmagon )
Mentions: Captain Vyxyl (

Fable )

It wasn't long after he had threatened to bring down the ship that some very beautiful woman came down and talked to him. She made many threats and all, but this time he just sat there and took it. There was no sound from him at all as he sat there and listen to her explain the many ways she had to kill him. It wasn't like he was staring at her at all, but this man who only moments ago was promising the most inhuman and disgusting violence at one measly threat was now just listening to this elven woman throw a few at him without even budging. Once the Captain was finished and had passed to her next task, Mordune rose and hung himself off the bars as he looked back to the troll he was talking to "Do you mind getting me a healer? I can't fully fix these bars while my arms are like this." His arms, now that the damage has had time to show, were in horrible condition. They were so bruised you could not see his tattoo's without focusing. It was a sickening sight, but then one could only imagine what the insides of his arms looked like. This was pain no normal person could come to handle. It was something that Mordune could not feel and sometimes he missed it. Sometimes he wanted the pain, just to know he was still alive. Maybe then he could finally have some sort of direction rather than the mindless destruction of Maerin.

Having said his piece and deciding on what he was going to do, he sat down in the middle of the room and sighed as he hunched over. What happened? Why was he so docile now? Simple threats weren't something that could work on this guy. He was beyond them. He was ready to die and prepared either way it went down. So, why did this elven girl have any sort of effect on him?

Sadly, Mordune had a very strict moral code and a very set few rules he followed without any falter. It was something he took very seriously. One of these rules was to treat all woman with respect. This one was something that formed the base of his entire personality. Back when he was a child he remembered a drunken man, who was actually one of his fathers oldest friends, came to the house he shared with his mother and father. The man destroyed their things and even hit his mother when she refused his advances. That was the day he swore to himself he would never lay a hand on a woman or her property. Sadly, it had seemed he had done just that. This was something he took very seriously. So, as he sat there waiting for a healer he raised his right hand and then slammed it into his leg. There was nothing at fist, so he continued this. Finally, the crack as his femur snapped. He sighed, not feeling a thing, but noticed his arm was not responding. As it turned out he had pushed his right arm to the last limit and it was completely useless now. Not to mention his leg was now about 80% damaged. If he didn't get a healer, he would have no way of fixing anything. The damage to his arms were massive and his legs were no better. What did he do while he was drunk? He guessed something he would regret knowing, so he didn't bother trying to think about it, just waiting to get this done and hopefully get his point across.

Perhaps he was becoming soft. There was a point in time he would just jump out into the open ocean and take his chances, but now he was just sitting there. Mordune himself didn't understand why, but there was something about this ship that made him not quite ready to leave yet. So, he turned his head back to the troll and sighed "You there, what was your name again? Well....suppose it doesn't matter anyway." He laid back in the brig floor and looked at the roof "Could you tell your Captain that I am sorry, but her threats don't really scare me. Ya see, I have been ready to die for quite some time and......if I am being totally honest, it sounds kind of nice. I might like dying." For the first time a normal smile spread across his lips "Maybe I can finally have some piece. Not like my murder spree was something I intended to stop doing at all, but if I die, I can see momma again. Perhaps....even get a real nights sleep." The small sound of his voice and the timing was so odd, but he was somewhat peaceful. The thought of death almost pleased him. He was just hoping to find someone who was worthy and capable of killing him. Until then he would fight and lay waste to the people and lands that had become corrupted. With a sigh of peace he looked to Tyr "Tell your Captain if she wants me dead its fine, but I would request one thing." He looked up to the roof and spoke with soft and simple words "I would request that if she wants to kill me, that everyone aboard fight me once we get to dry land. I can't be letting unworthy folks kill me. I can play nice till then." With that he closed his cold and ice pale eyes and simply waited to get a healer and then he could fix the cage the bound himself inside the depths of The Whimsical Lady, a ship he had a feeling would change his life one way or another.

Noble Scion · Jun 28, 2019

Harper Jules

"I'm not an embarrassment..." muttered Harper back sulkily as his captain left him with more cruel words to think about while she conversed with the king of this place. The place in question being one he'd heard a little about through rumours, but never read about, although he had read something about giant turtles in a book a while back.

Their journey to this place had been rather uneventful for him. He'd managed to catch a couple of fish with his talons, which was nice, and his "student" had been rather nice company and a pleasurably change of pace. Where everyone usually mocked him, played tricks on him and was generally mean, the one called Pandora seemed to be quite pleasant. Well-mannered and paid attention, not to mention they were quite cute in the appearance department, not that he'd write that in any reports any time soon.

Quite opposite to that time he'd tried teaching Oliver maths, which had been a completely terrible experience and yielded no results.

"I-I guess we're free to roam about?" he said with a half-hearted smile to the many faces of the crew that seemed to prefer scowling in his direction instead of returning his grin, before flapping off the ship down onto the gently-swaying island with a small sack of coins at his waist.

He looked sheepishly back at the ship and pondered if he should ask if anyone wanted to explore with him, and stood there indecisively instead, his owl-features turning this way and that as he seemed to avoid all manners of eye-contact from people, crates and buildings while silently hoping that someone would escort him around instead of leaving him to try and make chit-chat with some other pirate that most certainly had a bloodier name than him

Mentions:

Meme Machine

shadowz1995
Interactions: None (Harpy boi is single and ready to mingle ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

shadowz1995 · Jun 28, 2019

Unsurprisingly, the resident undead had spent their time at sea playing songs or doing menial work like carrying supplies up and down. Considering the fact that Oliver never really got tired or needed breaks, the crew always took full advantage of that.

When he wasn't doing simple tasks, he was watching the alleged prisoner through hungry eyes. Scorching him would be a cakewalk and the pyromancer had often been assigned to keep watch on him because again, he didnt sleep and he didn't tire. Being a zombie had its perks from time to time. He didn't even have to really worry about mana consumption because the necromancer willing kept him topped off in exchange for her taking survey on him or experimenting with certain parts of his body.

It wasn't until they finally reached their destination that Oliver dawned his cloak and re-did his bandages to go on land.

Luckily, he wasnt the only one with this plan it seemed.

The crew's bird brain was trying to step off as well but his searching, hesitant gaze made what he wanted quite obvious. Even to Oliver.

That being said, it was no secret that the undead pyromancer had a strong distaste for cowards and Harper was the most cowardly on the crew now. Still, they were part of the same group and he was an important asset to the captain's command. It seemed that way at least.

The fire mage's luminescent irises locked on to the harpy's and he fell in line behind him. "You.....cannot......defend.....yourself.....where.....are we.....going....?" he groaned out. It was one of the rare times Oliver made a decision to do something himself rather than be ordered to.

Pilgrim59 (mentioned)

Meme Machine · Jun 28, 2019

Pandora

Location: Whimsical Lady
Outfit: Black pants, white shirt, brown waist corset, brown boots
Mood: Excited
Interactions: