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Carina Turais

"I've flown a thousand nights to change the world...no, of course not, but it would be an interesting story, wouldn't it?"

277 views · last seen in Terreth
a character in “The Wayfarer: Amongst Skies”, as played by Nightblazer

Description

Carina Turais--Navigator

Image
Full Name: Carina Turais
Description: The newest navigator serving on the Wayfarer, she possesses a surprising pool of knowledge about the sky, from myths to landmarks. She still seems a little baffled at being tasked with such an important role, but is eager to please.

She possesses unkempt brown hair in a low, loose ponytail that hangs over one shoulder, and deep blue eyes. Her frame is unfortunately quite short and thin, so she's hardly an imposing figure.
Age: 23
Gender: Female

Race/Main: Human
Race/Sub: Argonaut
Honorifics|Titles|Nicknames:
--Titles: Navigator
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual.

Birthplace: The Islands of Argonavis
Marking|Tattoos|Piercings: A number of scars run up her right arm, all the way up past the elbow.

Height: 155 cm (roughly 5’1")
Weight 44 kg (roughly 97 lbs)
Physical Condition: Seems to be physically healthy, but not terribly strong, and her stature is less than impressive.

Former Residence: Canopus, the capital of the Islands of Argo Navis.
Family/Relatives: She doesn't keep in touch with her parents.
Friends/Comrades: None before joining this crew.

Enemies: None yet.
Rivals: None she can remember.

Organizations/Tribes/Clans: The Crew of the Wayfarer.
Former Affiliations: Navy of Argo Navis--Recruit.

Disabilities: Gets exhausted fairly quickly, and is prone to panicking in a crisis.

Personality:
She gives off a cold or shy aura at first, but speaks surprisingly politely once a conversation is started, especially if she can see someone's upset. Carina actually enjoys helping others a lot, and any task she sets her mind to, she pours all her effort into getting it done. She’s not above teasing others, but most of the time, she’s pretty serious.

Beneath the surface, Carina's quite insecure--she doubts her abilities often, loses herself in thoughts frequently, and gets offended easily. But since she believes no one would bother to respect any of these problems, she keeps to herself often, and often becomes quite withdrawn after a crisis, whether it was averted or not. However, if she reaches her limit, she absolutely explodes.

She's a late sleeper, a light eater, and unfortunately not much of a morning person. She also gets embarrassed easily by compliments, sometimes uncharacteristically rambles on when she finds things she's deeply interested in, and has a hard time keeping a clear mind around cute gir--er, cute things.

Likes:
  • Most shades of blue
  • Starlit nights
  • Music
  • Art. Medium or skill doesn't matter.
  • Fantasy novels
  • Myths of constellations
  • Literature prominently featuring lesbians (she vehemently denies this)
Dislikes:
  • Running long distances
  • Cold weather
  • Being made fun of
  • Speaking in front of a crowd
  • Social Gatherings
  • Generally anything that requires her to speak to three or more people at once.
  • TOMATOES

Psychological Condition:
Suffers from mild depression, but she plays it off as best as she can. But even if her facade fails, she's not willing to talk about her feelings with just anyone.
Alignment:
Chaotic Good?

Equipment

Attire:
A dark vest over a white dress shirt, black pants, and brown boots. She often brings a black hooded cape that probably doesn't fit with the rest of her attire very well when she needs to go out, especially in bad weather.
Protection:
None.
Weapon(s):
  • Cutlass: The classic short, sturdy blade that features in any respectable pirate's arsenal. Good for cutting through rope, canvas, and/or limbs. And prices, if you know how to use it right--wait, what?
  • Blunderbuss: A primitive shotgun that fires pieces of anything hard or sharp enough Carina can get her hands on, such as nails or broken glass. Absolutely devastating against crowds, but equally aggravating to reload. High risk of friendly fire.
Accessories/Misc:
Extra pouches lined with durable material on the inside, for carrying anything Carina can load her blunderbuss with.

|Abilities|Traits|Racial|
Argonauts, the people of Argonavis, are potent magic practitioners. Naturally, children inherit their power from both of their parents, so each generation becomes stronger than the previous...most of the time.

Hydrokinesis: Carina can mentally control any amount of water in her surroundings however she pleases. She can use that water to deflect attacks, slice through objects, or knock opponents away, and she can freely convert it between its three phases. While she can control water in its gaseous and solid phases, too, she almost always uses it in the liquid phase.

When using her Hydrokinesis, Carina experiences pain in all areas of her body--at first, it's only a small bother, but it gradually intensifies over time, and ten minutes of intense usage results in her feeling too much pain to concentrate. As such, she tries not to rely on it very often.

Past History:
At age 16, Carina's Hydrokinesis revealed itself, and she was drafted into the Navy of Argo Navis. However, all of her abilities, both physical and magical, were considered poor for their standards. Even when Carina adopted a harsher training regimen, she could not catch up to her peers--and in fact, the harsher training and prolonged lack of rest damaged her body to the point where it became painful to even rely on her magic. Nearly everyone she knew, peers and superiors alike, viewed her with disdain, especially after it became known how her training had actually done more harm than good. Frustrated, dejected, and miserable, Carina contemplated suicide, but ultimately chose to sneak out of Argo Navis, hoping she could blend in well enough in other civilizations to never have to even think about returning home.

Current History:
Having traveled across Terreth for 7 years since escaping, Carina considers herself to be much more at home now. Even outside Argo Navis, her strength and speed are average at best, and she still hasn't recovered enough to use her magic without pain, let alone enough to train regularly in using it. Nonetheless, she's participated in many a voyage across the sky and seen many islands. Even so, she was very surprised when she was invited by Captain Caintry Osborne to serve as the navigator for his expedition!

©2011 Wolven[OC] (BBC Coding/Design) - Roleplay Gateway. All Rights Reserved

So begins...

Carina Turais's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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The sun slowly rises above the horizon, the surface of thick clouds becoming clad in shades of red, pink, and orange, and this colorful display was seen infinitely in all directions, seemingly no end. Within this sea of color moved a single spec, tiny in comparison, and this spec drifted as if it was asleep. This spec was the Wayfarer, and although it had looked better in its twenty years of service, some of the patches where the finish of the hull remained shimmered in roughened glory. The vessel, tried and weathered yet still strong, by this time has been out at-sail for nearly a month now, and its occupants are almost out of supplies, almost out of ammunition, and have been out of patience. Just the night before, the Wayfarer stumbled upon a herd of sky-serpents, snakes not even a foot long that glide through the sky-bed and breathe a short spurt of fire, and the ship was forced to react to nearly twenty or so of these serpents, not helping the already low morale of the crew. It was not a particularly hard fight, but everyone participated in some shape or form, the targets too small for any canon usage, so if anyone aboard managed any sleep it was not much. However, it at least has been tranquil on the ship, no movement on deck or in the halls below deck, and the only sound is the soft humming of the engines, an almost soothing ambient noise.

A muffled voice breaks through the shattered silence. It is the very basic intercom system that the captain uses to send quick messages, surely more effective than sending the cabin-girl to deliver messages to all crew members. The captains voice was muffled and cracked coming out of the rickety make-shift speakers, but making out what was said is not all that difficult with familiarity or practice. He spoke in a casual tone, which at least gave rest to any worry they were in danger yet again.

*All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant need to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all.*

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Caintry released the button under the rickety microphone, the metal circle popping out with a click, and with the announcement done he knew he only had a minute before everyone was gathered. He slumped back into the chair, giving a quick huff in coordination, and he decided to give one final notice to his notes before heading above his head to the quarterdeck.

The desk in front of him was littered with askew papers, rolled up pages, ink blotches dotting the surface of each one, and frantically scribbled notes beside open books; it was as if a printing press had exploded in front of him to form a fine layer of writing. At the center of the clutter was a map tattooed with drawn lines and side notes, a book that read “Duden’s Guide to Places without Guides”, and a paper that seemed to be donned with the documented thoughts of a mad man, so despite the disorganization, there was a clear purpose and achieved goal to the mess. He had checked his math with the navigator, inquired if any “off the map” islands were known of by the adviser, effectively complained to the First Mate, and checked over all defenses as well as offences with the Sergeant, and the fruit of his labor was three equally mysterious choices to resupply and put the crew to work.

Paradiso, the lair of pirates and thieves where Caintry’s mischievous soul could find an infinite amount of trouble to get into.

Parada, a rock covered in jungle in which the crew of the Wayfarer might very well be the first to reach its true depths.

Perodo, the tiny jungle island that became home to a peaceful colony with the same name, but right before setting sail it was rumored that Perodo had went dark for a month at the time, meaning no one has heard of it for two months now.

A devilish smirk, one signature to Caintry, slithered onto his cheek, for he was always one up to explore the unknown and dive into trouble.

Caintry reached for his gyeroot tea in an almost celebratory manner for mayhem yet to come, but a thought stopped him from taking a sip. This is a new crew, he thought, how many of those have I seen? It seemed at first a simple thought, he even began to innocently count in his head, yet it really hit him when he flipped the question. How many crews have I lost? Caintry had been the captain of the Wayfarer for a little over twenty years, a crew member of the ship twenty years before that, and although some would argue that is not much in the long life of Denaucmen, that does not make it shorter. Forty long years or forty short years is till forty years, for time travels the same for all. A solemn mood fell over Caintry as he struggled with his runaway train of thought. Was it due to his leadership? What could he have done differently? Should he have taken those jobs in the first place? Should he have known? Finally, one thought struck him that summarized his pondering.

Do people follow him into the darkness, or does he lead them into the darkness?

However, before Caintry could finish these thoughts, he broke out of his pensive state by realising he was going to be late to his own meeting, and after throwing the entirety of the gyeroot tea back in one large gulp, he swung up to his feet and began to make his way to the door, the smirk returning right where it was used to being.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Varsh was in the middle of a long series of stretches, unwinding his muscles from the brief skirmish yesterday. As he stretched, tired muscles groaning in pain, he reflected. He thought back to the fight yesterday, fighting a species he had never fought before. Air snakes of all things. They had caught him unawares, and in the heat of battle he had realized his sword was too large for these small beings. So he preceded with bare hands, giving his war cry, a gutteral shout that would have sent odd little shivers down the backs of his crewmates and gathering the attention of the snakes. With odd little hisses and shrieks they all swept towards him, with little gouts of flame lancing towards Varsh, singing his cotton shirt and burning his arm slightly, both of which he ignored with extreme disdain, but the pain did activate the first round of adrenal glands, causing his muscles to swell, and his pupils grow wider. With a deathshead grin he grabbed a pair of snakes and bashed their heads together, scattering brains and blood everywhere, and then went for more to grab. While in his mask of rage, he barely noticed the crew doing their best and accounting for sky snakes right along with him.

Varsh was going deeper into the reflection when his Captain’s voice interrupted him. Ending the stretch immediately, he stood to his full height and strode out the door of his cabin, clad only in pants and leather vest. His shirts were cleaning. This put on display his powerful physique, and also the burns and scratches that covered his arms and shoulders, most still an angry red, the scratches not even attempted at being covered. His hair was bound back in a warrior’s knot. As he strode to the quarterdeck he began barking in a loud and powerful voice “All hands report to the captain’s cabin! All officers to the quarterdeck! Time now!” After yelling his orders he moved up to the quarterdeck to observe the rest of the crew as they assembled.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais
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Arc I--Day 1

Out of all the ways to wake up, being short of breath was among the most unpleasant. Short of breath, and aching all over. And thirsty. And feeling like you had run a thousand miles the previous day. What a wonderful morning.

Roused by light shining directly on her face, Carina let out a pitiful groan and rolled over to avoid the sun for a bit longer. Her blunderbuss and cutlass lay nearby carelessly, and her body was covered in ash and soot. In fact, quite a few things around her were charred and blackened. Feeling her chest tightening, she coughed weakly a few times, hoping that cleared out her throat. Maybe it was because of all the ash around that it felt hard to breathe...

That's right...they had been confronted with fire-breathing snakes the night prior. In the struggle, some of them had confronted Carina in an isolated corner of the Wayfarer. It would have been simple, but their battle set some nearby objects aflame, and whatever was inside quickly burned up, surrounding her and the serpents in fire and smoke. And then...

A surge of pain ran through Carina's body, causing her to gasp and curl up. This was backlash from her own power, wasn't it? That had to mean she had put out the fire herself...but was it really that bad? Or did she just overdo it? It hurt so much just laying still, she almost felt scared to know what it would feel like to move...

*All hands on...hands on deck for...see here… oh yes, navigat...rst mate, and sergeant need to be...others in...the Captain’s cabin. That is...*

Unfortunately, Carina had never quite been able to fully understand the Wayfarer's intercom system with its static and pitch warps. She had gotten better over time, but right now, when she felt in so much pain, she wasn't able to focus enough to understand just what was said. And there wasn't anyone in the immediate area she could ask for a translation.

Oh, dear...well, it sounded like the Captain said "navigator", so he probably needed her specifically now. And she had to go to...the Captain's cabin? No, wait...he said "others" between those phrases. But static cut out almost everything between them...she really had no idea which way to go. This was bad...

Feeling for a handhold, Carina finally found a railing and pulled herself up with a tremendous effort, hissing in pain. Great...hopefully she could at least get five meters without stumbling. It didn't seem like she had sustained any serious injuries last night, just the backlash from her power. But that was bad enough on its own...everything ached even worse now that she was on her feet...she felt so dizzy now...maybe she might even fall off the ship, through the clouds, into the unknown?

There was no way she could present herself to the captain like this...but she had no choice in the matter. Clutching the railing, Carina slid a foot out and dragged first her blunderbuss, and then her cutlass closer, making sure not to cut herself accidentally. Bending down, she picked them up, sheathing the cutlass at her right hip and slinging the blunderbuss over her left shoulder. Keeping a hold on the railing, she limped away to look for someone to help her get her bearings straight, hoping she could make it to wherever she was needed promptly by some miracle.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz
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Bobbie was sitting in her hammock, one heavily booted foot pushing off of the ground to keep the hemp cotton blended tarp moving. Her chin resting on the hand of her 'good' arm, meaning the arm that had been horrifically smashed and replaced with a clockwork and magic. She didn't like the word magic, though, it made things seem impossible. Master Jacken called it, Mental sciences, everything could be explained, had a rhyme and reason, Magic didn't. In fact, she was reading a large tome with runes, and symbols belonging to the Sciences. If only she let him teach her when she had the chance. She wouldn't be struggling to understand what she was reading now. She sighed thoughtfully. She should have done a lot of things. Told him she cared, told him she actually really enjoyed watching him practice and that she didn't completely hate his onion and leek soup, it just made her breath stink, real bad. Just before grief started to swirl in her chest. the intercom hissed on, and after a bit of static, she heard the Captain's voice crackle throughout the ship.
"All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant needs to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all." With a crackle and a hiss, the message was over and Bobbie huffed. She really had to fix that thing or he'd call her in just to have her run through the ship delivering his messages. The last time that happened, she forgot what he wanted, by the time she got to the last person. Yea, she had to fix that intercom, she could probably use some scrapped parts from the ship, but she wanted to get some new parts for this old rust bucket but they hadn't stopped in a while. She just hoped they stopped before the intercom did, and the last things she wanted was to be relaying messages. Lazy, perhaps but that was not what she signed on for. She was supposed to be the engineer, not the cabin boy...or girl in her case.
“All hands report to the captain’s cabin! All officers to the quarterdeck! Time now!” Came Quartermaster Varsh's booming voice

She closed her tome, and shoved it back into a large blue and gold chest and covered it with a blanket so that it looked like a rate. They were on a pirate ship, after all, the second to the last thing she needed was someone stealing all she had left of Master Jacken. She'd never taken a life before but that would certainly be the straw.

She looked around her a little cabin, it was big enough for her, she supposed, but it was still basically a broom closet, it had space for a hammock, a few trunks for her clothes, and tools, and a porthole so she could see the sky out of. It wasn't much, but it was hers and she didn't have to share. She'd rather privacy over a larger space any day.

She stretched a moment, before looking over at herself reflecting the porthole. She was still covered in soot from last night's work, it had been smeared from sleep but still dark against her warm brown skin, a few stray curls stuck out from her braided black hair, and she looked surprisingly well rested for someone who didn't sleep much. It wasn't that she couldn't, she just didn't. She usually just worked until she dropped. Usually on modifications on her arm.

She looked down, it was bare right now, she didn't wear the leather shoulder high glove, while she slept, it was a little restricting. She didn't have to wear it at all if she didn't want to. All of the mechanisms were protected by a bronze cast, made to try to match her skin color. It didn't. it was a few shades too dark or too light in some places. It had rivets on the places where the bronze and copper were bolted together, and around where her elbow would have been, cogs, and gears, made for mobility, were visible, it was a wild thing to look at, even now, but she hadn't really cared for how it looked. She was just glad to have an arm again.
This one acted much like the original, Master Jacken used the Mental Sciences to connect the nerves to the moving parts within so that she could actually feel. It was more sensitive than her flesh hand, so that was why she wore the gloves. It had silk inside because any rougher material felt like needles, that and she didn't like the stares, if someone asked about it that was one thing, but staring, she hated staring because most of the time, there was disgust in those glares, like how dare she walk around with that thing on her arm like it was a proper thing to do.
She shook that thought. She was on a pirate ship now, she didn't have to worry about what people thought, if she did, a good licking would come his way.

That's what she told herself anyway. She looked over her trunk and grabbed her glove first, just in case she had to work. She grabbed a cotton, soot-stained shirt, a similarly stained pair of overalls and sniffed, shrugged and slid them on over the glove before slipping her tool belt over her tiny hips. She adjusted her glove, making sure that the glowing ether orb that gave her sensation was set properly in her glove. It shone a bright greenish blue, and without the glow, it would have looked like an expensive gem. Master Jacken charmed it special so that no one could touch it that wasn't him or her, without getting a nasty jolt. Master Jacken made everything special so that she protect herself... Like he knew he wasn't going to be there to do it.


Bobbie shook her head hard enough to make it spin. No. Pirates don't cry. Pirates.. They don't care. She had to stop caring...or she won't make a good pirate.

Raising her chin, she tapped the toe of her boots, making sure her feet were snug inside before swaggering out the door of her 'cabin'. Her boots echoed through the corridor, letting everyone know she was coming. Her head held high, letting everyone know that she didn't care. She was tough, she was strong. That's what she wanted everyone to believe.
It was as she rounded the corner, making her way toward the upper deck when she saw the Navigator, Carina seeming to have a rough go of it.

Bobbie snorted. "Ya know, for a Navigator, you looks to be havin' a hard time walkin' straight," Bobbie said as she approached her then side stepping the woman, Bobbie rose her arms over her head and rested them there as she continued on. Pirates didn't care, even if she did sort of want to help her.

She then made her way to the Captian's cabin, where Lady Mercy and Kilian were waiting. Bobbie would never say it but she really liked Mercy, she was the type of woman Robyn dreamed of becoming, strong, stalwart, not a care in the world. No one could touch her. Bet she didn't have a missing arm. Bobbie smirked at her. Morning' Mercy." She said and felt like an idiot for even speaking and then rose a chin to Kilian, not really greeting him but acknowledging his presence.

Of all the people that Robyn didn't like, he was at the top of the list. She was supposed to be working under him since he was technically the Engineer, but Bobbie knew what she was doing, she'd been doing this shit since she was really small, he was probably still sucking his mother's tit at the age she was when she was working in the factories. At it didn't help that he tried to make sure she knew when she did something wrong, he wasn't even nice about it. She felt like he was always demeaning her like he didn't respect her just cause she was a kid. Oh, that twisted her gears...If he weren't so critical, then maybe she wouldn't mind but by the Maker, did he have to be such a twat, all the time?

"What we here for?" She asked, and if he corrected her grammar, she'd lose it. If Mercy did well, that was okay.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin
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Matrist Bromin


Upon hearing the captains announcement Matrist Bromin stretched and slowly scanned the horizon from his lookout post in the Wayfarers topsails. He had seen the most glorious sunrise, made all the sweeter by having survived combat with flying serpents the night before. He sighed and rolled his neck; as scout he had been posted on watch for the remainder of the night but now it was time to move on to other things. A smile stole across his face, hopefully more interesting things.

He gently ruffled the feathers of Xelos, his hawk companion. "Vaya kar na? Moltho foresh Xelos eh?" he slurred softly, "It's just going to be boring human stuff, go find your breakfast." He stood balanced briefly on the yardarm and with a great cry of "Vorra!", the hawks command to hunt, he launched Xelos into the air. Taking a moment to marvel and scan the horizon he realized much of the crew had started to group on deck, thanks in part to the captains call and the bellows of the first mate. There hadn't been much time to meet much of the new crew the previous night so he looked forward to seeing who he was serving with.

Grabbing on to one of the nearby shrouds he let himself fall forwards off the yard and whizzed towards the deck slowing himself with his gloves. Coming to a graceful landing, he then went over to join the rest of the crew, nodding at any who glanced his way.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore
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Down by the ship's guns, Nadia was still busy cleaning off soot from the last of the cannons and grumbling under her breath. She had managed to keep the sky-serpents away from the powder storage with the help of one or two others, but some of the little terrors had singed parts of the ship, including the gunnery deck. And so here she was, cleaning up the mess they had made. At least the attack had provided her with the opportunity to vent her pent-up frustrations on something, as well as test some of the alchemical gunpowder made to be used in her flintlock. It was fun to fight fire with even better fire, and the mixture worked perfectly, seeing as her pistol hadn't melted in her hand during the fight. Making sure not to hit the ship was a nuisance, however.

The sudden garbled squawking over the ship's loudspeakers brought the gunner out of her reverie. She would have shot the nearest speaker she could see to get some peace and quiet, but after the lecture from last time, she had learned her lesson.

"What does he want us to vote for, anyways?" Nadia muttered to herself. "It's not like we're putting someone in office or anything..." Stifling a yawn, she rose to her feet, tossed aside the dirty rag she had been using to clean the guns and rubbed her aching back. Whatever this vote was about, she hoped it involved finding a place to get some proper shuteye. The gunner was certain that she was not the only one suffering from a lack of sleep.

By the time she had reached the captain's cabin, Nadia could see that several of the others were already present. It seemed she was neither too early nor too late, and that suited her just fine. Walking closer to the cabin, she leaned against the nearest wall, trusting its ability to prop her up more than her own two legs.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore
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Hammock swaying and a thoughtful expression beaming at the ceiling, Jia half-hung on the makeshift bed that was about as uncomfortable as it looked; a hand flicking the metal charms lined on her waist as she recalled yesterday’s events with little more than a footnote. She found herself admitting the bare dent she’d attributed in the fight when she realised punching floating mini-snakes wasn’t exactly a practical strategy. There was a Wuya saying equivalent to the bringing a knife to a gun fight, but it had eluded her at the time. So her first combat assessment was probably a cropped up checklist with all the results scribbled down in utter frustration, and the cook wondered if Caintry was about to throw her off proper for it. With a defeated sigh, she settled on taking today as it came. The captain hadn’t branded her just yet, and it didn’t look as though he had the personality for it.

Plus her cooking was at the very least salvageable, as if that was any consolation.

Moping proved useless, however, and the train of thought came to a screeching halt when the captain’s familiar voice came crackling through the intercom – static and stutter in all – prompting the cook to jump into action for this supposed meeting, all the way dreading the agenda as she hadn’t managed to shake off the niggling doubt of her value on the crew. Being the new kid on the block made it all the more gruelling, too.

Once the captain’s quarters were in sight, Jia noted that most of the crew had assembled. Sour faces abound, typical with rude awakenings given that many of the crew hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest yet. Neither had she (but probably hadn’t paid it any attention). And so, desperate not to set off anything to worsen her own problems, Jia contemplated a course of action before deciding on a simple acknowledging nod as she passed by most of the scowls. Only making an effort to greet the equally sour gunner, Nadia, who had presumably been up early to clean the mess on the gunnery deck. “You had rough night, huh?” She spoke, her native tongue conflicting with the inflections and pronunciation as per usual.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk
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Jeremiah had worked into the night repairing the internals of the aft-mounted repeater. It was a beautiful thing, a beast of brass and whirling cogs, and it had served the gunners of the Wayfarer well in many a scrap. Last night was no exception, as Jeremiah had attempted to intercept those damnable snakes with as much canister shot as he could feed into the cannon without bursting the barrel. It worked for a little while, much to his delight, sending those little monsters plummeting to who-knows-where pulped, smoldering, and entirely dead. Indeed, until they swarmed him, it was lovely scene. The thumping pulse of cannonfire, loud enough to send even his weakened ears ringing, the steam and smoke spewing from the furnace, filling the air with an infernal haze, and the glowing barrel vomiting up a torrent of fire and lead. Jeremiah, meanwhile, was laughing like a lunatic, that manic grin plastered across his face even as the spiteful creatures made it past the cannon. It had gotten a bit dicey then, he supposed. He wasn’t a stranger to fisticuffs, but fighting a man was a world apart from dozens of fire-breathing serpents. His clothes were armored, yes, and the mask let him keep his eyes in his head, but it seemed like those fangs found every little bit of skin they could. The gunner could only get the little blighters off by lighting off one of his bombs (A tricky proposition when one is covered in angry snakes) and letting it detonate at his feet. It was a gas bomb, and while the charge was only enough to shatter the glass the toxin was contained in, it didn’t do any favors for his boots or the floor. Nonetheless, the resultant purple cloud was enough to free him from the snakes. It was a nasty mix that jellified the lungs and turned the brain into so much slurry , and he was extremely thankful the filters on his mask weren’t clogged. There was a brief moment of terror at the possibility he had managed to gas the ship, but there has been a lucky wind and the gas degraded far quicker than he had hoped.

It had, however, left a stain. A big, ugly, blotchy, deep purple stain. A stain that, despite a decades worth of cleaning experience, Jeremiah could not remove. He had tried everything in his arsenal, from degreasers to solvents to scrapers to physical coercion, but it was no use. That accursed blot wasn’t coming out with conventional methods, and the gunner knew he had to get creative. He had briefly considered setting it ablaze and just scraping off the burnt bits, but then admitted he might have to turn to magic. This was a conundrum, as Jeremiah had the magical capabilities of a brick. It wasn’t an individual thing, as everyone from his homeland had the same quirk, but it meant that he had to enlist someone who was capable of using it. He had pestered the magic-users aboard the ship enough to know that they could probably wizard up some new wood or something. If not, he still had that rotgut he picked from the last port of call and matches were cheap. The whole concept was a bit much for him, so he made mental note to both find a mage and rework the toxin formula. With those hours of futile scrubbing done and plan in mind, he turned his attention to his gun.

Oh, the poor beauty. On a cursory examination, it looked fine if very messy, nothing a good scouring couldn't solve. Once he got into the guts of it, though, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth. It seems that as revenge for the deaths of their many brothers, the fire-snakes that hadn’t gone straight for him did their very best to get themselves ground up in the gears of the repeater’s loading mechanism, leaving it hopelessly gummed up with shards of bone and charred meat. It also smelled objectively terrible, a difficult opinion to get from someone with a ‘gunner’s bouquet’. So, Jeremiah had been working until the intercom crackled to life to get the gun back in shape, just fitting the last screw back into place as the order to gather was made. Giving the repeater a celebratory spin on it’s mounting, he gather his tools back into his pockets and made his way to the upper deck.

He was happy to see that the crew was alive, if nursing the odd snakebite and grappling with an awful night's sleep. The gunner spotted Carina, the Navigator, stumbling her way through the halls. Seemed that spiteful little tyke had gone up without paying Carina any mind. Bobbie was a fierce and a right proper knife from his reckoning, and she knew a pirates tongue can be as sharp as her blade. She just needed to stow it now and then. The poor navigator looked like hell and, if Jeremiah was right, not happy about it. He adjusted the filter hose on his mask, so he could speak, and carefully put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. He dwarfed the woman, so it was easy for him to discreetly keep her on her feet. Jeremiah had spoken to the girl enough to know that she didn’t like to look weak, and she looked like she had had a rough night as it was. No point in making it worse.

“Steady on, love. Let’s get you topside, yeah?”, Jeremiah said, steering her back towards the staircase. His voice was muffled slightly from the mask, but had the unmistakable accent of Culverin. People tended to consider it coarse, loutish, and entirely too loud, and the odd slang of his culture was a mangling of the language at the very best, but there was a warmness to it. One could hear the smile on his face. “Hell of a scrap, that. Got bites up and down, the lot of us. Reckon Birdy’s pitchin’ a fit.” He paused at the stairs, examining Carina. She had gotten some of the worst of it, and looked none too happy for it. With his other hand, he reached into one of his many pockets and fished out a small vial of red liquid, placing it in her hand firmly. It was just a painkiller, a far cry from actual aid, but it’d keep her upright and dull the sting a bit. With that, he began hauling the navigator up the stairs with him, emerging blinking into the light to be greeted with the sight of the crew gathering by the captain. “Right, then! Stick close, love, we’ll sort this out right quick, yeah?” He gave the shambling navigator a thumbs-up and began leading her to the captain’s door.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Loud banging rattled the ancient wooden walls of the Healer's Quarters. Needless to say, Eire wasn't having the best day. Most of the crew would agree their night wasn't all fun and games, but no one, no one, loved sleep the way the young Arcadian did. The woman paced her medium-sized room that doubled as the sick bay for the crew, slamming cabinets open and closed again after grabbing various supplies for the crew. She stomped her feet [a habit she'd picked up from the flightless races] as she walked from one side to the other, but her light weight didn't give it the same satisfying THUD.

To make things worse, she'd been up all night preparing things for people who never showed. Feeling useless as well as tired, Eire sat twiddling her thumbs after healing her own wounds. Well, she actually spent her time whipping up a new pain elixir she'd been working on, but she felt as though her time was wasted nonetheless. Perhaps she should have been used to the members of her crew tending to lick their minor wounds in private by now. Eire couldn't help the disappointment that burned in her stomach, sometimes a girl wants to heal a nicely scrapped knee or a little snake bite. Healing only life threatening situations tends to get boring. Eire took a deep breath and settled her annoyance. Despite her feelings, she was happy that no one on the crew was grievously injured. To lose someone after the long months abroad would be even more disappointing.

With a resigned sigh, the cherub slumped down on her bed next to an open porthole and felt a chilly morning breeze roll in. Just as she got comfortable, the telltale crackle of an announcement filled the quieted room, "All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant needs to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all." It hadn't taken long for the healer to pick up the skills to decipher announcements made on the speakers, though she did suspect hers was one of the best behaved.

"Of course!" Eire called as she jumped back to her feet in one swift motion. She ambled to the door, swiping the elixir from her desk as she passed in case anyone had wounded more than their pride. With a flick of her wrist, magic flipped her 'DOCTOR IS IN' sign to the otherside. It now read: 'DOCTOR IS OUT; OF HER MIND'. She'd made it herself in a language only spoken in Arcadia, and as far as the crew could tell the sign only translates to the first half of the statement.

Though she wasn't in a hurry, Eire caught up to the growing party of her mates that had already arrived at the Captain's Cabin. Minutes after arriving, thought it felt like hours to the cherub, she was already bored. More than anything, she hated to be kept waiting. Sure, the officers likely had something important to discuss, but that didn't make it less boring. To find something to entertain herself with, she examined the crew. The minute her eye caught the first burn hole, her eyes flew to her own blouse. Directly to a rather large hole with singed edges just above her navel. Cursing aloud, she vowed then and there to use those foul beasts in her soul-sucking research should she ever see one again. This day couldn't get worse.

The Cannoneer's unique scent arrived long before he did. He trundled up the stairs with Carina in tow. The poor girl was hobbling in a fashion the healer had only seen in the extremely old or the extremely sick. Again, the Arcadian's temper flared a bit, but was quickly squashed by a more overwhelming wave of professionalism. As Shenk and the navigator joined the crowd, The healer eyed the red potion in the woman's hand. Scoffing inwardly at the painkiller, Eire offered the blue elixir to the Navigator and called, "You're going to be late at that pace; not even a quarter to the way of the quarterdeck." She laughed shortly at her own joke before adding, "Perhaps you should take this instead and stop by my Quarters after the vote. Please note should anything unusual occur. I hope it helps."

After sending Carina a hopeful smile, it didn't take Eire long to regain her previous boredom. Turning to Shenk she joked,"So. You're cheating on me with painkillers, eh?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk
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Arc I--Day 1

Even as she made her way up towards the Captain's cabin, Carina still felt dizzy. Just wonderful...how was she supposed to get anything done like this, especially when she was the navigator of all people? Needless to say, the voice telling her how ill-suited she was to her job was hardly a welcome sound--even if Carina ended up thinking it was an annoying voice in her head rather than the cabin girl.

Almost spontaneously, an acrid smell filled the air around Carina, overwhelming her other senses--and when she came to, she realized someone had an arm around her and was guiding her along. That accent...and the terrible smell...so it was the gunner. Well, one of them...Shenk, right? As she found a vial being put in her hand, and herself being pulled up a flight of stairs, Carina felt a little baffled from the unexpected aid. Carina hadn't really been able to focus much around Shenk before, because the smell of...whatever weird weapons he created really was overwhelming. Yet here he was, pulling her along with cheerfully encouragement. She really hadn't been fair in her initial assessment of him, huh...

Making sure not to trip on the steps, and letting Shenk pull her along, Carina finally made it to the top...and found another vial, this time with blue liquid, being pressed into her hand. Looking up in surprise, Carina found the medic, Seeleheiler, was giving her this one. With a suggestion to come to her quarters later. Nodding, Carina made a mental note to do so, as she had ignored such suggestion she in her past over things she considered insignificantly. It...wasn't pretty.

Oh, wait...she was supposed to be heading for the quarterdeck? Good thing Seeleheiler had told her that. "I...think I'll be fine now. Better get to the quarterdeck quickly...um...thanks, you two." Carina glanced at the two vials she had recovered a little cluelessly--was she supposed to take both? Or would that turn out badly? After a bit of deliberation, she stowed Shenk's vial in an empty pouch and drank up Seeleheiler's concoction immediately. Then, removing herself from Shenk's hand--trying not to be too rough about it, of course--Carina made her way to the quarterdeck as fast as she could manage.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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As soon as Caintry swung open the door to his cabin he saw the crowd that was his crew waiting, and he silently cursed to himself, seeing as it was probably bad he was late to the meeting he called.

He gave a grin of appeasement and begun to walk through the crowd.

The first face in the crowd to standout was Killian, not because he had a pretty one but the fact that it expressed how little he wanted to be here. Caintry typically hired whimsically and sporadically, but engineer is one of the few positions of the crew that has to be filled to survive. Fortuitously, he had found Killian as a stow-away right after their last engineer had met his untimely demise, and Caintry was not one to waste fortune.
“Happy to see you, as always, Killian. I presume you are making friends,” said Caintry in almost a sarcastic chuckle, if detectable.

The next face in the crowd was that of the pale, cold, and hard Lady Mercy, and it just occurred to Caintry that she reminded him of a marble statue of sorts, the thought bringing yet another smirk that would be the many throughout the day. She was tall and tough, Caintry sometimes doubted whether he could take her in a fight although he would never admit it, and he could tell she underestimated her Captain, which he liked and was cause for the growing of the smirk. He could detect sadness behind the eyes of the statue, and he wondered if statues really did have the ability to peer into souls of the people who make eye contact, as the old women of his village would have him believe so long ago. Just for the sake of trouble and the analogy, he made sure to lock eyes in his greeting.
“Lady Mercy, I am shocked to see a single hair out of line,” he said playfully, not quite teasing, “Careful, some might mistake you for human.”

As Caintry continued his way through the crowd, his gaze now fell upon Robyn Janye, the cabin girl. Caintry had the talent of having lived a long time, and in that time he acquired the skills of reading eyes. However, you did not need that to see that Robyn was acting tougher than she was, and he almost admired her acting so tough. He wondered if she still thought that he was a pirate, but either way he might as well confuse her.
He let out a histrionic and dramatic “Aaargh!” with even the one closed eye and hooked finger as he passed.

Caintry barely noticed Matrist as he kept walking, the man having an almost uncanny ability to not be seen, and he shared something in common with him that he wondered if Matrist had noticed. Matrist, like Caintry himself and Varsh, were almost like people plucked from a different time, given Caintry was plucked back in time and Varsh and Matrist forward, and there was almost an understanding in a shared disposition.
Caintry simply nodded in his direction.

Next he saw Nadia leaning against a wall. She was one of the military trained people aboard his ship, but she seemed to lack the discipline one would see in a professional sailor, and that was good. The freedom and lack of structure he provides was much more suited for her creativeness, and he was happy to provide her with the environment, given she does not send the Wayfarer into the unknown below as the product of an experiment.
“I hope this time you were nicer to the speaker, or are you the one that is going to tell Robyn she better obtain running shoes,” he remarked with a nervous laugh, hoping that he did not actually have to buy a new speaker.

Next was Jia, the monk-cook. That was enough to hire her immediately, could not get much more unique than that, but he begun to wonder if the cook part of the title was just added to get the job. No matter, she had an interesting story, at least her eyes said as much, so he probably would have hired her with no cooking experience at all, if she had any now.
“Good to see you as always, Jia.”

For lack of time, not favoritism, he quickly rounded the corner, up the stairs, and took his positions among the officers and planners looking down on the rest over the railing; he made a note to give a greeting to those he missed. With a clearing of the throat, he began his briefing.

“A nice morn, I hope all slept well. You all look, well… terrible.” Caintry paused. He meant to only give a small introduction to each of the three islands, but as his devilish instincts tugged on the back of his mind, a smirk once again began to show itself.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer, and I assure you none of you know what to expect. A long time ago, I first came into contact with this beauty of a vessel in a rather special way. The Wayfarer was neither the first airship I found myself working for or the best equipped, but she has always been my favorite and the only one I actively tried to work for. Why? Story. She was the most interesting, simply. My old Captain brought me on as the ship’s scout, thief, cheater, or whatever you wanted to call me, and why did my glorious, honorable captain pick me? I was the best, and I was the most qualified in that degree of expertise. Obviously I did not stay in that position, I am now standing above you on the quarterdeck. So, that leaves the question: why did I bring you on? Surely, in line with the practices of my good Captain, I would carefully choose only the best for the job, the role, when selecting who is privileged enough to be a member of my crew. Well, no, not even close. Some of you, I wonder, probably never did the job you agreed to do before coming aboard. Most of you would not ever in your right mind agree to come aboard this airship, as well as no Captain in their right mind would ever hire you. Some of you had no choice but to come along, helping more than one of you escape your respective authorities, and some of you would have joined any airship. So, again, why did I choose you?

Your eyes.

Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story. I could not know whether you would serve faithfully and turn out actually suited for the job, such as when I took Varsh on as muscle, eventually being promoted, or stab me in the back and attempt to burn my ship down, literally in some cases in the past, but neither would I care. In short, you are not the most suited, but the most interesting for your respective jobs. You are, each and every one of you, fantastic stories.”

For a moment, an instant of noticeable sorrow fell over Caintry, a hiccup of melancholy or a blink of solemn, but he did not dwell.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer,” he continued, the signature smile that had only wavered returned and his tune still cheerful, “and although we are not heading into any of three islands with any certainty about anything, you can depend on the fact that we will find trouble, mischief, and something to preoccupy ourselves anywhere. That, my dear…” He thought to say friends, but stopped. “That, my dear crew, leaves us with our choices and your voting. You have had it rough enough lately, so I will let you decide where to dock. Well, I will let you vote on where to dock, and as long as your choice doesn’t sound absolutely dreadful that is where we will go… Well… Forget what I said, just vote on where to go.

Anyways, your choices are between Paradiso the pirate den, Parada the unexplored jungle-rock, or Perodo the peaceful colony that is probably dead. There is a possibility everyone is sleeping I suppose, but unlikely. Now, I can not tell you anything about Parada or Perodo, you know as much as I do, but I have been to Paradiso, so I might be able to answer some questions. However, I would really prefer not to.

You may give a short speech before your vote explaining your position, but all that is needed is a simple naming of the island."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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It didn't take long after his own arrival for the rest of the crew to show up. Why was he the first to appear? Well, discipline, probably. The other side of it was that he was among the few members of the crew who remained unscathed in last night's tussle with some beasts of the sky. Amazing as they probably were, he had little interest in trying to fight a flying snake thing. Besides, while he avoided any direct confrontation, he had his hands rather full dashing about here and there and trying to make sure the damn critters didn't set anything crucial on fire, nor tried to chew through the sail for whatever reason.

It was a good thing he could leave the machine room to Robyn for the most part. He wasn't on the best terms with the girl - not that he was on good terms with anyone, really, it was just that he had to deal with her a lot more than anyone else - but he was somewhat worried if she came topside, she would just get snatched away to a horrible fate. After all, the sky serpents gave the crew significant trouble, and he was among the least combat-capable people around. Which was saying a lot, really, because while he was just average by build, he was in fantastic shape. When he was invited by the captain, he expected to have to pull his weight fighting things as well, but that was entirely unnecessary in the end.

And he was happy for it, really. He didn't learn to fight because he wanted to, and while he had grown to enjoy physical activity of most kinds over the long years wandering the world and avoiding police and second-grade bounty hunters, he would rather not be forced to fight. Besides, it didn't seem like he could compete with the more combat-oriented members of the crew. The quartermaster, one Elric Mahal, was a mountain of a man. Though no longer young, he was big enough that he had to duck into most doors, and some of them were problematic for him to fit through because of his muscular girth as well. The next most imposing man was certainly Varsh Terask, a full head taller than Kilian and then some and with arms almost as thick as his legs. No less imposing was a certain Lady Mercy, which was the only name he knew her by, the formal enforcer slash captain's bodyguard. While not that much bigger than himself, the way she carried herself betrayed countless years of experience wielding the sword she had on her at most times.

The others, including the captain himself, he would dare to take in a fight, but not those three. While some looked significantly more threatening than himself, they didn't seem too skilled in combat or relied on weapons that had little utility in close quarters. Not that he was usually eager for violence, nor measured a person's worth by it. Rather, had this ship had a crew comprised of more ordinary folk, they might not have made it through last night, certainly not all of them.

"Cap'n." He acknowledged the man with a short word and a salute. Well, never having learned much of the military, he wasn't even sure if he was doing the gesture correctly, but it mattered little on this ship. Caintry proceeded to make a far more theatrical greeting than entirely necessary, eliciting a smirk on Kilian's own face a couple of times. The eyes, yeah right. More like how much of a weirdo they were. The crew were a collection of misfits, some more obvious and some less, but few were entirely normal. The captain himself was probably more than a little insane, a slightly twisted smirk basically never leaving his face. The people who seemed more normal in terms of character were probably Carina, their something of a pushover navigator, and Uriel, the adviser who certainly had some great assets. Jia was just very foreign, Robyn was a little girl who tried too hard to look tough, and himself, well, he was probably broken in more ways than he knew. What a merry bunch they all were.

"I'd rather go to Perodo." He voiced his opinion second, rather upset that Paradiso was the first one called out. It wasn't a good place, certainly not for someone like him. It probably housed more than a few of his old partners in crime he would rather never see again, as well as countless people he crossed, not to mention more bounty hunters that wouldn't mind going after him. His reward - even though offered separately by four governments - wasn't so great that people would chase him specifically, but who would pass on a bounty that came right to them? And while he could appreciate nature, a jungle island was a lot more nature than he would like, likely dangerous nature at that. Besides, Mercy did have a point. They couldn't count on an uninhabited island to provide supplies.

"I think we all need a small break, so a peaceful place sounds perfect." Kilian continued, deciding to give his argument more weight. "And if it is dead, there's going to be a lot of valuables we can just take. Say what you will about looting, it's practical." He shrugged. Depending on how long the colony had been silent and potentially dead, there might not be any fresh food around, but there would likely be preserves. Everybody made those and they could last years until opened. "Sure, there's danger, but it's not like Paradiso is safe, either."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Arc I--Day 1

When Carina finally arrived at the quarterdeck, she was surprised to see everyone had assembled...except the Captain. Although...considering her clothes were still covered in ash, she probably wasn't doing very well in terms of presenting herself, either. At least Seeleheiler's potion got rid of the dizziness and at least some of the aches, so she could focus somewhat on whatever the captain had called them for.

For whatever reason, the first mate, Terask, wasn't wearing a shirt at all, as if he was proud of all the angry red burns and scratches covering his body. Either that, or it had gotten burned off. Of course, Terask was nothing if not resilient, so he was no doubt taking it well. On the other hand, the advisor, Rozinan, seemed like she hadn't suffered much from all the chaos last night. Perhaps she just hadn't gotten caught up in any fighting at all.

Leaning against a railing and folding her arms, Carina nodded in acknowledgement to both of them, but said nothing. (She didn't acknowledge the sergeant at all, he could get fed to the serpents for all she cared. He obviously felt the same way about her.)

Within a few minutes, Captain Osborne finally came out of his cabin with a smile, greeting some of the assembled crew members in his usual witty manner. And when he climbed up to the quarterdeck alongside them, he delved into a speech about how he chose everyone for his crew because...they were "interesting" or whatever. It took much of Carina's willpower not to roll her eyes throughout the whole thing, it felt like stalling in every sense of the word.

...although part of her just wanted him to stop talking so she didn't have to think about how she might not really good enough as navigator for this voyage...

At last, the Captain let them know about their options for where to restock. Parada was completely out of the question as far as Carina was concerned, you just couldn't trust a place no one knew anything about that couldn't simply be noted from outside observation. So...it was either the colony that had mysteriously gone quiet, or a place that was crawling with pirates and thieves. Hm...

"I also believe Perodo is our best option, Captain," Carina offered. "As Lutz has noted, even if it really has died out, there must be something we can make use of there. And dead or not, it seems more welcoming than Paradiso. Going into a thief den, especially after last night, would just be begging for trouble."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz
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Varsh stood upon the quarterdeck, silently observing the various crew come in various states of dishevelment for the meeting. He noted with satisfaction that most bore marks from the fight, showing that they had some semblance of a true warrior within them. His observations were broken by the entrance of the Captain and his light hearted talks with some of the crew. Varsh found the speech heartening, but it came in a very similiar vein to the same speech that Varsh had heard when he came on the wayfarer three years ago. He nodded in approval at Lady's Mercy's vote for Paradiso, and then grimaced at the two votes for Perodo. After Carina finished her spiel, Varsh cleared his throat, and spoke.

"As'Aran Carina, Lutz, Lady Mercy, you all speak well. But hear my words now, all of you. This choice of where we should sail should be a simple one. We have a choice between the known and the unknown. Yes, Paradiso is dangerous, but it is a known danger that we can sink our blades into. Perodo? For all we know disease could have swept the colony from existence, and no blade I know of can fight great sickness. We would die the worst deaths of all simply by setting foot there" as he spoke, his voice taking on a more melodic tone as his story voice came on, he fixed each crewman and woman in the eye "Better an enemy we can plan for and fight, then the great unknown. My vote goes to Paradiso, and may our blades swing true, regardless of the vote."

After finishing speaking, he nodded once, and crossed his arms, as if daring any to refute his seemingly infallible logic.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Damascus coolly watched the crew as they fidgeted around waiting for the, remarkably late captain from his position leaning against a stack of crates behind the assembled members. The orb under the bandanna twitched as he decided to open its eye briefly to get a, new perspective on the crew. Barely visible under the bandanna a faint purple glow began to emanate as the orb fired to daemonic life. Filtering into his reduced field of vision came faint purple aetheric traces lacing the sky, following the ebb and flow of magic that was helping to keep the tub afloat, as well as the traces of the magically inclined of the crew.

Scattered throughout the assembled members of the crew were pinpricks and traces of magical energy. Some was retained in weapons, some from hands, eyes, whatever the foci of their craft he saw the traces of it. He noticed that in many of them the traces were much fainter, weaker than they were when he had first observed them as such. He could attribute this to the recent battle, and the general tiredness of the crew. One of the crew caught his attention by virtue of simple the amount of concentrated energy in one area. The young Cabin Girl, what was her name, Bobby? No matter, but the arm under the long glove was simply buzzing with purple aetheric traces. It had him curious as to why the arm was so imbued, but it wasn't his place to ask.

His thoughts, and indeed concentration, were interrupted by the, by court standards, quite grand entrance. The captain strode powerfully through his hirelings, nodding and interacting with those he seemed to know for either longer, or better than the rest. He was a good man, seemed personable, seemed to care for his crew. He'd known another captain of the same such vein. His left hand concealed under the cloak curled reflexively around the pommel of Lizbet, caressing its smooth cold metal with the care and grace one might treat a lover. Or a memory.

His thoughts were once more interrupted by the captain, this time by his words. Damascus wasn't going to lie, he'd expected this sort of filibuster from the captain before he'd opened his mouth. And Filibuster was all it was, something he was quite used to. His time in high court had been populated with such measures and he was proud to say he was one of the best at it. He didn't particularly enjoy it, he would rather say just what he needed to, but he was exceptionally talented at the intricacies of court and public and private conversation. While the Captain was certainly good at it, Damascus couldn't help but call it what it was, filibuster to appease a tired crew and build up to what the actual point was.

Your eyes. Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story.

Damascus couldn't help but scoff audibly at the man. Only having one eye, Damascus sincerely doubted that the captain had seen anything in his eye. None on board had seen beneath the bandanna, none on board had witnessed his shame, none of them could possibly have seen his story. He did not doubt that the captain had seen something in him, but he preferred to think what he saw was what Damascus had wanted him to see, a quick wit and a quicker blade.

This man must have been the son of a senator, Damascus thought as he listened to Caintry rattle on. He was almost proud of the man, almost wanted to see how he'd hold up in a noble court. But eventually the man got to the point and laid their options out of the proverbial table. Perodo, Paradiso, or Parada, a triple threat of P's. Privacy, piracy, or primeval it was a tough choice. He could see the merits of any of the places laid out before them. Though he had no intention of visiting another possibly abandoned settlement. Too much risk for repeated history.

"The way I see it is as such ladies and gentlemen," Damascus began pushing his shoulder off of the crates. Standing straight he ran a hand through his hair, setting it back away from his eye. "Each of these places holds... unique opportunities, as well as dangers. On the one hand we have Paradiso, a notorious hive of sin and villainy. Just the sort of place that any of us could lose ourselves in and rest reasonably undisturbed for a time. While there restock, rearm, refuel, and relapse into our.. finer habits," he said with a devilish grin. He began to pace behind the crew, much like a lawyer would making his closing arguments, every movement calculated for maximum effect, his cape billowing and swirling about his feet in a theatrical way. The captain wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic.

"On the back edge of that sword, it is a hive of sin and villainy. There are plenty of opportunities to find oneself in how shall we say, in a pit of trouble. Bounty hunters, assassins, high port taxes, truly dreadful stuff that." He paused to gauge reaction. "Now on the other hand we have Perodo, the silent settlement. If there are people still there wonderful, locals to trade with that have had no recent communication with the outside so we're likely to not be... ratted out. And if they're dead, unfortunate as that is, as Mr. Lutz so bluntly mentioned, looting is an option," he noted with a head nod and gesture to the man in question. "Again, on the other side of the coin, if they're alive and have been silent, there must be a reason. Perhaps a reason more sinister than we could imagine," he paused for a fraction of a second, memories tied to the statement flashing through his mind. Recovering almost immediately he continued. "Sickness, cultish behavior, pirate slaughter, daemons, it could be any number of things. We could be walking into as much of a trap there as we could be in Paradiso."

He paused and turned to face the crew. "Now Parada, not much to be said there, its a jungle plain and simple. And in the jungle, well we all know the dangers and rewards of such places do we not," he stated with a grin and sweeping gesture. "So here we stand, a choice of Privacy, Piracy, and Primeval, each could be as rewarding and treacherous as the last. I for one prefer the comforts of civilization, so my hand is cast for Paradiso. At the very least there we can be assured a warm bed, cold drink, and if so inclined welcome company."

Having said his piece he took a single step back to his stack of crates and resumed leaning against it. The habits of a noble and the court duties that go with it die hard. He was simply glad to see that the recent gauntlet of tribulation hadn't dulled his tongue any. Whatever the crew decided on, he would abide by, but he had a yearning to see the lights of civilization once more from the comfort of a glass of brandy, a comfortable bed, and a warm companion.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Practically the entire crew had gathered at the behest of their captain, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Big surprise there. Nadia let out another frustrated sigh, drumming against the wall with the fingers of one hand, this did little for her ill temper brought on by lack of sleep. The gunner perked up a little when she noticed the ship's cook approaching, however, and acknowledged her presence with a nod and a slight smile. She had gotten along fairly well with Jia since their new recruit's induction on the Wayfarer.

"Yeah. Rough day, too. Cleaning burn marks and sky-serpent guts isn't my idea of fun," replied Nadia wryly. Just then, the sound of the door to the captain's cabin opening caught her attention. Here he was at last. It felt like the crew had been waiting far longer than necessary for him to show his face. She quickly stopped leaning against the wall to make herself appear at least mildly presentable, then turned her gaze to the deck in embarrassment when Captain Caintry brought up the speaker she had previously wrecked. "No, Cap'n," she mumbled. The last thing she wanted was to have that brought up again, in front of the whole crew.

When the captain began his speech, Nadia mostly tuned out at first, expecting the same old sort of introductory spiel from her military days. But then came the odd part, the bit that got her attention, or at least her curiosity. Captain Caintry had picked the crew for their... stories? Did he intend to write about them in his memoires or something? Looking to the collection of misfits she would be calling her crewmates, the gunner almost missed out on what their leader had to say next. The reason why he had called them all here: to vote on their next destination. A pirate den, a wild jungle, or a ghost town? Decisions, decisions. Nadia listened carefully as some of the crew members cast their votes before deciding to make her voice heard.

"I don't see us getting restocked on a wildland, so it's a toss-up between Perodo and Paradiso, from the look of it," she said. "And if we dock at Perodo, we may end up running into what made the place a ghost town in the first place. At least we know where we are with cutthroats. Just keep our big 'uns in plain sight and we'll only have the idiots trying to mug us. My vote's for Paradiso."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Eire had remained silent for a good portion of the voting, only piping up after Varsh to add, "I've got 10 blades to cut through illness right here!" She raised both hands and wiggled her fingers in a magical manner for effect. Usually, she'd have added an eyeroll at how pretentiously Varsh was speaking, but that just seemed to be how he was. He always seemed to be ready to fight whomever dared to contradict him, so of course Eire had to.

Truth be told, Eire couldn't care less where their adventures took them. As long as it was somewhere new, she'd be happy. However, she was still feeling a bit under utilized and was eager to remind people that she did actually have the ability to take away their aches and pains they all seem to grumble about constantly. Sure, she could just do it, but she preferred consent. Magically healing someone is a very intimate process, and it made Eire feel much less skeevy when the other party agreed to it.

In any case, the healer was eager to get underway to wherever as long as it had food and a nice place to take a nap.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus Vieri Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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“Good morning.” Lady Mercy greeted, her tone as cool as usual. Robyn couldn't help a small grin but it faded when she realized that Lady Mercy didn't smile. She wasn't so easily amused. “I expect we’ll be finding out soon.” She went on answering her question and then went on to -seemingly- appraise the others that arrived. Robyn straightened her back, taking on the same posture and stern expression as Lady Mercy.

Shortly after, The Captain made his appearance, greeting each one of them accordingly. To her, he hooked a finger, closed an eye, and gave a wild "Argh" out of nowhere, startling Robyn a bit. She blinked and fought the urge to laugh. What the hell was that all about?

Soon the briefing began.
"A nice morn, I hope all slept well. You all look, well… terrible. He said and Robyn scrunched up her nose.

Rude, she thought as he went on.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer, and I assure you none of you know what to expect. A long time ago, I first came into contact with this beauty of a vessel in a rather special way. The Wayfarer was neither the first airship I found myself working for or the best equipped, but she has always been my favorite and the only one I actively tried to work for. Why? Story. She was the most interesting, simply. My old Captain brought me on as the ship’s scout, thief, cheater, or whatever you wanted to call me, and why did my glorious, honorable captain pick me? I was the best, and I was the most qualified in that degree of expertise. Obviously, I did not stay in that position, I am now standing above you on the quarterdeck. So, that leaves the question: why did I bring you on? Surely, in line with the practices of my good Captain, I would carefully choose only the best for the job, the role, when selecting who is privileged enough to be a member of my crew. Well, no, not even close. Some of you, I wonder, probably never did the job you agreed to do before coming aboard. Most of you would not ever in your right mind agree to come aboard this airship, as well as no Captain in their right mind would ever hire you. Some of you had no choice but to come along, helping more than one of you escape your respective authorities, and some of you would have joined any airship. So, again, why did I choose you?

Your eyes.

Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story. I could not know whether you would serve faithfully and turn out actually suited for the job, such as when I took Varsh on as muscle, eventually being promoted, or stab me in the back and attempt to burn my ship down, literally in some cases in the past, but neither would I care. In short, you are not the most suited, but the most interesting for your respective jobs. You are, each and every one of you, fantastic stories.”
He said and Robyn was sent back to the day she met Master Jacken. He told her the same thing...there was something in her eyes. To his credit, he'd sifted through her mind telepathically but it started with her eyes. That's what he explained to her.

To hear that again, from someone who'd never met Master Jacken and never will, made her want to see what they saw. The Captain saw a story.
She reached up, gripping her shoulder on her 'good' arm. Oh, she had quite the story, Master Jacken saw a kindred spirit. She made a note to pay attention to people's eyes. Apparently, they told quite a lot.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer,” he continued with a grin. “and although we are not heading into any of three islands with any certainty about anything, you can depend on the fact that we will find trouble, mischief, and something to preoccupy ourselves anywhere. That, my dear…” He paused causing Robyn to narrow her eyes some. “That, my dear crew, leaves us with our choices and your voting. You have had it rough enough lately, so I will let you decide where to dock. Well, I will let you vote on where to dock, and as long as your choice doesn’t sound absolutely dreadful that is where we will go… Well… Forget what I said, just vote on where to go.

Anyways, your choices are between Paradiso the pirate den, Parada the unexplored jungle-rock, or Perodo the peaceful colony that is probably dead. There is a possibility everyone is sleeping I suppose, but unlikely. Now, I cannot tell you anything about Parada or Perodo, you know as much as I do, but I have been to Paradiso, so I might be able to answer some questions. However, I would really prefer not to.

You may give a short speech before your vote explaining your position, but all that is needed is a simple naming of the island."
He said and Robyn already had her vote. One they needed supplies, she -as in her and Killin- needed more parts of the ship as well as a few new tools but Robyn also really wanted to see this pirate sky dock. She wanted to go to Paradiso.
Robyn rose her hand but then the others spoke before her and she dropped her hand. Did she even get a vote?

"Paradiso," Lady Mercy said, shocking Robyn into whipping her head in her direction. "We need provisions, do we not?" the white-haired woman went on to say and Robyn was shocked. She thought the same thing she did.
Inwardly, Robyn was cheering, having found something, however small, in common with the otherwise enigmatic woman. Robyn dropped her head to hid her grin, hoping that Lady Mercy did not see her gawking and smiling like an idiot.

The others went on to explain where they wanted to go and finally Robyn rose her hand again.

"Ah, Well, I don't know if I count as crew or if my vote even counts but I want to go to" She paused, her eyes flicking over to Lady Mercy before she continued. "We should to Paradiso, we need supplies in the Engine Room, new parts and such, I figure that's the best place to find something good." She said, not really that great at explaining herself as it was, so it just made it worse that she wasn't exactly being entirely honest. She did want to go to get new supplies but most because she was curious.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore
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Jeremiah gave a helpful wave as the beleaguered navigator stumbled to her position. Poor thing still looked like hell, not much he could do about that, but who didn’t after last night’s festivities? Jeremiah himself had somehow managed to smell even worse than normal, presumably due to the offal he spent half a night scraping off of the guns. He was, however, faring fine on the mental front. It took a hell of a lot to get Jeremiah down, and what a sane person would call trumatic the gunner would call exhilarating. Carina seemed...upset. More upset than what Jeremiah assumed the average non-Culverin would be feeling right about now. She seemed, in Jeremiah's eyes, conflicted. Now, if there was one thing Jeremiah tended not be be burdened by, it was troubles with conviction. Jeremiah and most of his ilk tended to suffer from a frankly dangerous propensity to be damnably certain in their actions and wants, throwing both foresight and hindsight to the wind with regularity. If apologies are in order, so be it, but when a Culverin does something, he or she really, really, wants to do it. No half-measures, no hesitation. To be unsure, even in the face of what most would call reason and logic, is a terrible things for any self-respecting Culverin to feel. Catarina, for as overwhelmed as he thought her to be, struck him as someone who felt the same. Outwardly, granted, but she was putting up an admirable front. When he saw her, he knew, he just knew, that she wanted to do something. Something she didn’t feel like she could. Nonsense! Jeremiah wasn’t blind to it, and he felt that sudden brotherly urge he got from time to time. Bottling up things like that, it ended poorly, explosively even. (Sometimes literally, in his experience). But, the day for helping with such matters was not today. The navigator seemed to have enough problems standing upright, and he’d rather see her get through the day without keeling over the side than vent. At least she had a decent elixir to get through it. Not his, granted. Seemed that Erie decided to give the girl a little help of her own, which he couldn’t help but feel relieved by. So, when Jeremiah heard her joke about his medical fidelity, he couldn’t help but let out a coarse bark of laughter.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Birdy! That brew’ll fix her up right quick. Mine’ll do as much as a stiff shot of poppy, it will!” He nodded as he took his place at the deck, beside the healer. “‘Sides, love, you’ve got magic, yeah? I’ve got a brew pot and a chest full of powders.” He scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly as he spoke a little quieter, which was still unsettlingly loud. “Speakin’ of, you think....” Unfortunately, the captain chose that time to give his speech. As ostentatious as he found him, Jeremiah couldn't help but respect him for giving them the vote. During his time aboard the Wayfarer, he had learned that democracy wasn’t really the norm among the other islands. He could see why. In all fairness, the democracy of Culverin was anarchic. It was total and unfettered, an open invitation for mob rule and a mad sense of egalitarianism that sent the entire city into upheaval whenever elections came about. Jeremiah was used to wild-eyed firebrands screaming on the tables of taverns, not the poised and charismatic speeches the captain tended to give. It was refreshing, a sense of order that Jeremiah didn’t know wasn’t present in his life before he joined up. It gave him the prideful feeling of focus, not on weapons or warfare, but on a mission. So, he mulled his options carefully.

“Paradiso!” Ah. Well, not as carefully as he probably should have. “Got an inn, yeah? Seems like we could use three hots and a decent cot, given the shape of us.” Plus, there were pirates. Squishy, unsuspecting, deserving pirates. Oh yes. Not that he could say that, given that Nadia already did. He was not entirely unconvinced that his fellow gunner could not read his mind. She had the amazing ability to make Jeremiah homesick, something he didn't think he would feel. She just had this air about her that... Uh.

The gunner used his involuntary chuckle when Erie cracked her joke to push some uncomfortable thoughts from his head. He smiled, clapping her on the shoulder as lightly as possible. He didn’t want to accidentally break anything on one of the most vital members of the crew. Again. “Rather have those knives in my wounds than a shiv, yeah?” He liked the medic. She had magic. Magic. He couldn’t even wrap his head around half the things mages could do, and had more than a few doubts about it after being told stories by a fair number of bored tavern-goers back home. He had heard stories of everything from mages calling storms down to destroy the unwary to warlocks wearing the faces of their victims and stealing their very lives. Such rumors were refuted by his parents and the few mages he’d overheard on the docks, but he had that little bit of doubt crawling in the back of his mind when he boarded the Wayfarer. A doubt that was removed by Erie, once he saw what she did with her magic. Something about using a power that could (assumably) level cities to heal was noble and worthy of respect. He couldn’t help but feel a tad left out of the whole matter, given that he apparently had the magical signature of a lump of cheese. No matter, he supposed. He had bigger problems to deal with.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Matrist Bromin


After descending to deck level and seeing some of the crew on deck, Matrist had taken up his post by the mast where he had remained unseen for the most part while he watched the rest of the crew come on deck. As they gathered and waited for the captain, Matrist could not help but reflect on the oddity of voting on a destination, in what should have been a rigid command structure. Never in his time standing the wall had this ever happened, surely, he mused, this could lead to dissent and possible mutiny down the road. However, if the captain wanted to pursue decision making structures that meant it was more likely for Matrist to be able to fulfill his own mission so much the better.

Eventually the captain did come out and took a quick turn around the crew, to Matrists surprise he was noticed and nodded at. A strange feeling ran through him at the time, as it seemed as though the captain understood how he felt as if he had jumped forward in time. The island of Dimmar was a woefully technologically bereft place, however because of that magic ran in the veins of the folk there more strongly than many other places, deep, and old, strange, and wild. However, Matrist did not wish to give away any of his background or ties to that place yet. Though it was rare to find people who had traveled to Dimmar, and rarer still to find those who knew anything of the Mistwalkers, their reputation as assassins, and more specifically mage-hunters, tended to make people.... uneasy. So instead he gave the bow of the outer Torrad islands; right hand across his chest over his heart, the palm outwards, a slight inclination of the head, and but the barest bend at the waist. It was more the impression of what might have been a bow, but they were a proud people.

The Captains speech was illuminating, full of passion and conviction, though hiding the glimpses of unknown stories as well. Charismatic and yet somehow unknowable, he spoke of recruiting the crew for the stories glimpsed in their eyes. Matrist almost chuckled, there would certainly be few people with eyes as unusual as his; over-large and glowing a blue in the faintest way you might not even notice. He offered them choice, decide he said, where shall we go, and one by one the crew spoke up. Some cast their votes simply, and some would be orators persuaded and cajoled, some used bravado, and some used simpler appeals. Ultimately, there could be only one choice when the votes were all numbered. Seeing this, and knowing that the fulfillment of his true mission could occur at any of their ports of call, Matrist elected a different route.

Either entirely unnoticed by the majority of the crew or forgotten of in the self interest of voting, Matrist stepped forward and into the silence spoke the first words many of the crew had heard from him.

"Where my Captain goes, I follow" Simply that, no more needed to be said and he was not a man to waste words or blow hot air when his task could be simply accomplished. With a nod to Caintry at his spot, he resumed his lean against the mainmast.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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The Captain of the Wayfarer simply nodded, confirming his recognition of the votes, and with that he made his exit, a polite farewell as he went back into his cabin. With that, everyone was to go back about their business, everyone fulfilling their roles, and now the calmness of the morning was replaced with the melody of regularity and plentiful toil, same old same old.




Another morning, several after the one aforementioned, was beginning to form as the sun found its way over the western horizon, the thick clouds of the sky-bed seeming less fantastic now as they drew near a clearly visible, vibrantly green island in the distance, and making its way skimming the less impressive clouds was the Wayfarer, expedient with a purpose. As the airship drew near, one could make out the island in detail, sandy shores giving way to thick jungle with a single rocky peak protruding in the middle, and in a rocky cove laid a visible settlement, a dark red-brown from being made of the wood of tropical trees. The settlement was built into the high rocky walls of the cove, wooden buildings being built into the sides with wooden walkways and bridges connecting the two-hundred and seventy degree rock face by several levels. The island seemed to fit the name Paradiso very well, enticing and beautiful like a femme fatale, but sometimes the mesmerizing lights and jovial music of the pirate den, the freedom it radiated, was accompanied by the screams of a rape victim or the crack of the odd flintlock shot. It, in fact, was a grand summary, a poetic representation, of all piracy and what pirating had to offer; wonderful glory and grit reality.

The Captain of the Wayfarer stood at the helm. The vessel drew nearer, now even the smell of festive food made its way to the crew if any cared to whiff, but suddenly the ship changed direction, driven by the captain. Although hugging the shoreline just off to the side of the infamous pirate cove, the ship was making its way, slowly, around the island, and it was clear to anyone he had no intention of going to the den anytime soon...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz
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Arc I--Day...uh...something.
Paradiso


As one could expect from a pirate haven, Paridiso was noisy, dirty, and pungent. Although Carina wanted an opportunity to take a walk and clear her mind, she had doubts she'd be able to do much of that in this place.

Over the past few days, she hadn't said much to anyone other than Seeleheiler, and that was just for her checkup. Thanks to the healer's expertise, Carina was in reasonably good shape again. Even so...maybe she shouldn't have kept hiding the cause of her condition from Seeleheiler? Something in her--maybe some foolish pride--just didn't want to discuss her problems, even to the healer of all people.

Besides, she had enough "problems" as far as the other crew members were concerned, didn't she? Even now, Carina didn't feel comfortable talking to anyone about her worries. They probably all saw her as foolish for wanting to go to Perodo and avoid having to deal with any of the resident pirates here, anyway. Well...okay, maybe Shenk wouldn't, but she had a hard time understanding his accent...and trying to ignore the thick scent of gunpowder and chemicals.

In any case, the only meaningful thing Carina could really remember saying to anyone other than Seeleheiler was volunteering herself to obtain water supplies for the journey, as they were running out of that as well. Originally, she had hoped to take a walk, but it seemed more appealing to just get the water and leave by now. But where were they selling water...?

After a few minutes of wandering--and ignoring men who were trying to court her--she did find a shop where they were selling casks of water. Obviously, one would be very difficult for Carina to carry all the way back to the ship, let alone enough for the journey. Maybe...she had to get help from Terask to do this? Using her power for this sort of thing definitely seemed like it'd attract unnecessary attention.

Taking out a small notebook from one of her pouches, Carina jotted down some notes on the location of the shop, looking around to make sure she had all details correct. Hopefully, there would be someone willing to lend a hand to her for thinking she could carry so many casks of water by herself.

Even so, she should probably try with one so there was something to show for her efforts. Stepping into the shop, Carina fished some coins out of her pocket--distressingly, it didn't look like she had much left at this point. Seems she had to learn to mind her spending in the next port...this wouldn't reflect very well on her if she had to ask the others for money, though. She probably had enough for three, four casks?

The shopkeeper looked up at her lazily. "Ya need twice that for one cask," he mumbled, as though he had just gotten out of bed.

"Twice?" Carina repeated in disbelief, feeling her face go pale. Great. She couldn't even get a reasonable amount of water for the ship like this. It was her own fault for not minding her spending more in the previous towns. Well...sacrifices had to be made for her crew, and she probably couldn't convince this shopkeeper to drop the price just for her--especially not by force, she didn't need to cause even more trouble for the crew. Reluctantly, Carina fished out some more coins and placed them on the counter, hoping she had enough for a second one on the second trip.

Grumbling something that sounded vaguely like gratitude, the shopkeeper sluggishly hauled himself up and lumbered to the back of the shop, picked up one of the casks, and brought it back, with barely any effort. As Carina took it from him, her eyes widened at how heavy it was--but she quickly reached out with her mind, lifting up the water inside into the air to reduce its weight. Immediately, a stinging pain dashed through her body, but she managed not to cry out as she hoisted the cask onto her shoulder.

Now, the shopkeeper cracked an eye open wide at her. "Lass, ain't that a bit heavy for a littl' girl like you to be carryin'?" he questioned, actually sounding somewhat concerned for once.

"O-of course. Don't worry, I'm stronger than I look." Carina flashed a smile at him, even though she was only half-telling the truth, and turned around to make the journey back to the Wayfarer with the water. Since she only really needed to think about the weight of the cask and not its contents, she could focus more clearly to remember her way back. The pain continued to run through her arms and legs, but she convinced herself to endure it at least until she got back. Hopefully, Seeleheiler wouldn't be too upset about having to look her over again.

However, as she kept walking, her eyes caught onto a familiar head with white hair. Oh, that was Lutz, wasn't it? But...wait, was he...bleeding? Wincing as her body protested from having to use her powers and walk faster, Carina quickened her pace so she could keep pace with him. "Lutz, is that you? What happened to--"

As she caught up with him, her eyes trailed down, and she gasped when she realized the one who was bleeding was not Lutz, but in fact his assistant, Janye. She was bleeding from her arm, and in tears, unlike her usual tough act. "...h-how did this happen?" Carina stammered, feeling her face pale. "Is she going to be okay?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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INK

The days following the vote on their destination had been somewhat stifled as those with doubts about their chosen destination appeared a little more withdrawn, but overall the feeling the crew appeared to be good spirits. Well other than the slight malcontent among the crew caused by a faint singing which had seemed to echo above deck during the twilight hours recently. The source wasn’t quite apparent with the, presumed female voice filling the night’s air for a little while at varying times with old sounding songs they couldn’t quite place or fully comprehend the words.

Elric knew full well that despite his warnings that his granddaughter had continued her midnight strolls through the decks of the ship and had now also taken to filling her time in with song; and as much as the tunes often made him smile he knew it was unlikely to garner them any friends should she be discovered. As he made his way through below he thought back to the hold where he’d left her earlier and the argument over him going ashore with the crew and leaving her trapped. It had ended with him taking his supplies for trade and sealing the door behind him for all the good it clearly did to halt her exploration.

He turned sharply down towards the galley and mess, ducking his head to pass through several of the arched doorways of below. As he reached his destination he wondered if he’d have been better off checking elsewhere but nonetheless he thought this might be the best place to take it. He put down his large satchel of goods onto one of the benches in the mess and carefully withdrew a couple of jars, filled with a rich honey. He glanced around the room, trying to see if there was anyone else down here but not managing to do so.

”Jia, I thought you might have use for these. So thought I’d drop em off a’fore I head into town.” he called out waiting for a reply before lifting the honey to his eye and inspecting them to make sure they were two of the best he’d brought and gently placed them onto one of the benches their cook used to prepare meals in the galley.

He glanced around once more to see if their cook had appeared before shrugging and heading out and above deck, pulling his furs and leather overcoat a little tighter around him. As he strode across the deck he wasn't able to see the others and wondered if they'd already went on ahead or were still below. Regardless of their location he set off down the boarding plank to the ground unsheathing the axe from his back, which was more of a polearm especially given how he started to use it as a walking stick; planting the butt of the weapon against the ground in time with his footsteps. A moment or two later he heart the faint pad of something soft on wood before a light thud behind him signalled that Kaela had joined him as he ventured inland.

The Quartermaster had little worries about the supplies aboard but they’d always need more so he figured he might as well check the area for game as well before trying to see if civilisation has anything to offer. He spent much of the walk on the lookout for any tracks as well as setting up a few traps to check on his return trip but as time passed the ship grew smaller behind him and distance to the town grew smaller. However the thing which caught his eyes as he approached was not the town nor its inhabitants but rather the cluster of figures who seemed both equally familiar and somewhat distressed.

”What’s up with the wee lass?”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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INK

Bobbie kept her eyes closed as he was spun around, facing Giles she figured. She heard him huffing and puffing on the way forward. "You'll pay for that, cunt" He hissed and she just kept her eyes closed. He was going to take her arm, or at least try and went it didn't work, he was going to kill her. Damn it. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready to die yet.
She squeezed her eyes as tight as she could against the pain on her arm, trying to hold back tears. Suddenly, there was a crash, and she was released, it caused Robyn to open her eyes. Once her vision cleared, she stood stunned to find that, one, the big man that had been shooting at her was the one to have found her. How that happened wasn't important, because two, he was down, and Killian was holding pieces of a broken stool.

He found her. Somehow, he found her in this mess of an island. He found her.
"What a big man you are, picking on little girls" He said and she would have cracked a smile if her arm wasn't in so much pain. Why couldn't he have shot the good arm? She held the wound closed, blood seeping through her gloved metallic fingers.


"What's it to..."

"You look the type to be someone else's "little girl" every other night, so I guess you wanted to take it out on somebody?" 
Killian said and Robyn smirked but jumped when she heard the man that held her groan. Killian proceeded to stomp the man back into unconsciousness and continued with Giles. Her vision began to blur, and blackness dotted her vision. She wasn't sure what happened next but Giles was gone and Killian was facing her. She stood there looking at him, blinking, sniffing, huffing and shivering. It got mighty cold all of a sudden?

Killian removed his belt and for some reason, Robyn thought he was going to beat her for her folly. Hell, she deserved it, and at this point, she'd take the beating if it meant she didn’t have to deal with this place alone.

Instead of beating her, he kneeled and wrapped the belt around her arm. "I'm sorry." She managed quietly, and then suddenly, he scooped her up, and beat a hasty retreat. Robyn rested her head on his chest, sobbing quietly. She swore to herself she'd been less of a brat to him. He didn't have to save her, he could have left her to her fate and been rid of her for good.

"He was gonna take my arm." She whimpered to him. Killian was the only one to know about her arm so she knew she didn't have to go into detail. She was, however, going to explain how he knew about it in the first place but she was getting very sleepy all of a sudden, she could barely keep her eyes open and it was cold. This was a tropical place, why was it so cold.

"It's cold?" She murmured just before she heard a few familiar voices but her eyes long since closed and she didn't have the strentgh to open them.

"...h-how did this happen? Is she going to be okay?"
”What’s up with the wee lass?”

"why is it so cold?" She muttered before darkness took her.