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Post by Angel ♥ on Dec 6, 2008 18:41:03 GMT -5
Angel paused as they turned onto the harbour, her eyes lighting up as they flickered between the ships that bobbed up and down on the waves. They were HUGE, far bigger than she had ever expected them to be. The biggest of them cast long shadows over the harbour, looming over them. Their sheer size was imposing, seeing these Angel could understand why so many so called 'great battles' were fought out at sea. Not that she approved of that at all, but she could understand the logistics of it. You could fit half an army onto some of those ships, though with the grandest of them, and those that were obviously part of the country's naval forces, she guessed that was the point.
She glanced up at Charlie as she heard his voice, biting her lower lip lightly. "I think that they said that the ship would be right at the far end of the harbour, the last one there, and that it would be flying a private coat of arms...um...a green and black one I think, with a dagger on it." She relayed all the information that she had picked up to him, scowling ever so slightly as she tried to remember everything in as much detail as possible. "Yes...I think that's everything..." She murmured and smiled to him a little. "I guess that means that we need to start walking to the other end of the harbour..."
The ship that Angel and Charlie were looking for was moored at the very last spot on the far end of the harbour, just as she had said, and a flag bearing the coat of arms that she had described flew from the top of one of the tall masts. It was a medium sized ship, clearly more of a passenger ship than a merchants ship with how well kept it was. The hull was varnished almost black, and though it's condition wasn't perfect it was clearly a trustworthy ship, and Angel was glad of that.
"I think that we found it. You ready?" She smiled excitedly as she glanced up at Charlie, her grip on his hand tightening a little as her wings fluttered.
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Post by Chani {♥} on Dec 16, 2008 0:16:51 GMT -5
Charlie followed Angel... no, walked alongside Angel... quietly, in thought. He was exhilarated, that much could be told from the look on his face. His lopsided grin was irremovable as they continued their quick pace to the end of the harbor. The winds coming off the ocean smelled pleasant, welcoming. They reminded him of his late grandfather, who had always smelled of the ocean, even after he had retired from the Avalan navy. But he didn't want to think about that. Just as the thought arose, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He didn't want Angel to know about his grandfather, not yet. She'd feel sorry for him and it would ruin her good mood to think that this trip would be hard on him. It would be hard on him, but not because of his grandfather. He was excited, worried, overjoyed, anxious, and walking faster and faster as the emotions swept through him.
Then, he noticed, they had stopped in front of the boat. He eyed it for a moment and became a little skeptical. His face contorted into a frown. It didn't look like a boat used for merchandising purposes. Of course, if it was a boat used for such, then why would it go anywhere near the Shattered Lands? The only sort of captain that would allow such a foolhardy trip would be...
"I think we found it. You ready?" Angel was saying to him. His thoughts were shattered. They always were when she smiled at him like that.
"You know I am," he responded, grinning again and squeezing her hand back. "Let's go!"
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Dec 16, 2008 18:04:26 GMT -5
Crazy. The word Charlie had been looking for to describe the Captain was crazy. And ignorant and selfish and arrogant especially, but Roslyn had mostly come to believe that he was mentally unstable in more than one way. And that had nothing to do with the fact that they were bound for the Shattered Lands; she'd been expecting that, it was why she'd boarded the ship to begin with. But the Captain, she'd decided, didn't seem to have any idea whatsoever as to how to make a ship go anywhere and she was amazed that they had stayed afloat this long already. She didn't have a clue how to sail a ship, but she was pretty certain she, or anyone else in the entirety of Syrunn could have done it better than he did.
She stifled a sigh as she looked down at the water, standing at the railing on the side of the ship with the sunlight playing through her ebony locks and lighting up her amber eyes, which drifted slowly across to the port. They were meant to be leaving in half an hour or so, but she knew that roughly meant in a sailor's terms 'whenever we finish doing what we want in this town'. She didn't mind, however, after days on the ship she quite preferred it when they were at port than when the Captain got the chance to 'sail' his ship, for lack of a better word.
Her pretty face grew confused as she watched the throng of people milling about on the harbour, quirking a dark brow at the sight of what she thought were... no... they had to be... wings? Well, nothing had certainly told of that today. Slowly, her gaze moved to the owner of such wings, and the confusion turned to curiosity as she looked at Angel. How odd. Even odder was the way that the breeze suddenly circled around to blow in the opposite direction, stirring her curls from her shoulders and lifting the bottom frills of her dress, revealing for a second or two her bare feet.
Roslyn guessed they must be new passengers. So they must also be going to the Shattered Lands. Interesting.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Dec 17, 2008 6:53:50 GMT -5
Angel almost had to run to keep up with Charlie just before they reached the ship, guessing that he had so much on his mind right then that he just didn't realise how fast he was walking. Plus, she caught a pang of nostaligia from him as they walked across the harbour, which confused her a little. She would have asked him what was wrong, but she didn't want him to think that she had been reading his mind again; it was just that sometimes you couldn't help catching some things. If Charlie wanted to tell her about it then he would when he was ready, it would be rude of her to go poking around in his mind to find out what was wrong; that would be unthinkable.
Her gaze flickered away from Charlie as he answered her and moved back to the ship. It looked sturdy enough to get them to the Shattered Lands, and hopefully back, in one piece at least. She scowled ever so slightly, feeling as though someone was watching her as she scanned the ship, her eyes finally falling upon the woman who was leant against the railing on the ship. Oh, it seemed to be her who was watching her, she must be watching out for whoever would be boarding the ship here. She smiled to the woman and waved ever so slightly to her in greeting.
"Alright, come on then..." She murmured to Charlie as she started walking again, now heading towards the board that lead up to the ship. Her footsteps were hollow as hse stepped onto this board, Angel looking slightly suspicious of it, as if she thought that it could break or shift at any moment and send them both plumetting down into the water, and her good mood just might be ruined by faling into the cold water.
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Post by Chani {♥} on Dec 17, 2008 12:01:33 GMT -5
Charlie followed Angel's gaze to the woman on the railing as she waved and smiled at her politely before turning to follow Angel up. He, too, seemed rather skeptical of the board, walking slowly and letting Angel get a good distance ahead before he took a normal pace. After all, if it broke and she fell into the water below, it would be his fault. That was an obvious fact. She weighed, like, ten pounds. Charlie... notsomuch.
He cradled the supplies and finally made it to the top, sighing with relief as he stepped onto the ship.
"Where should we put our stuff?" he asked Angel, hoping she'd know. He was tired of carrying their things. It was much easier to hold her hand when the other arm wasn't growing sore from packing around supplies.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Dec 18, 2008 8:03:25 GMT -5
Roslyn smiled a little as she received a wave from the girl, lifting her hand in response and moving from the railing towards the board, the lace of her dress trailing along the floor after her. That board had already caused injury, but luckily it had been to the sailors rather than the passengers; but it was their own fault for trying to stagger onto the ship when they'd clearly had so much to drink it was likely they could see three boards instead of one. But that at least had proved that it could hold a lot of weight, even if it was rather unsturdy at the best of times.
"Good morning." she murmured quietly as they climbed aboard, casting Charlie a fleeting, but slightly untrusting look - she had to admit that he didn't look suspicious in the slightest, but then Roslyn had never been very trusting when it came to men. "There are cabins below the deck were you can put your things, but I've no idea where the Captain is. I can show you the way if you'd like." she offered with the slightest hint of a smile.
It was rare that they got passengers at this stage of the journey, she realised; most of their other passengers had gotten off at this port, so it was rather refreshing to see some newcomers.
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Post by FLICK on Dec 18, 2008 17:20:16 GMT -5
Christophe Evreux woke up with a headache. A really, really bad headache. Well, he thought cynically, another hangover makes a nice change from the norm. He rolled his eyes, but that only made his headache worse. He groaned something unintelligible. He was still, it seemed, beyond speaking. Instead, stretching cracking limbs, he crawled out from beneath the greasy tarpaulin he found himself entangled in. It was coarse, rough canvas, and the scraping of it on his exposed skin was the stuff of nightmares for his ale-addled brain. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his body found the light of the outside world. The sea breeze on his bare flesh was like the soothing hand of a particularly friendly barmaid. Wait. Too bare. With a squeak and a quick glance around him to make sure nobody had noticed or that if they had, they hadn't seemed too disgusted, he scooted back under the canvas. It appeared that before venturing out into the outside world, he'd have to find some clothes. As he crawled like some mindless beetle through the dark, canvas-shrouded world that was his domain, he lamented his fell luck. These things always seemed to happen to him. Perhaps, suggested a small voice from the corner of his mind, if you had the good sense not to spend every night out drinking, you wouldn't find yourself naked, hung-over and aboard a- He silenced it with a powerful mental thwack. The upside of being in such moods was that his thwacks gained considerable power. Then his head collided with a barrel and his thoughts lost coherency for a few minutes as he swore violently and rolled about beneath the canvas. Thank the gods it muffled some of the sound. With a hopeful grin, he popped his head up - denting the canvas - and peered into the barrel. No clothes... just a lot of old sheets, stained by things he didn't want to think about. He tried its neighbours, and on the fourth or fifth found success at last. The clothes were a bit tight on him - he decided that as he was rather skinny they must have been made for a gnome - but then he didn't mind tight clothes. They showed off his 'physique' better, and they rarely got snagged on things when he was running away. He found one faded red-and-brown tunic that he thought was actually quite dashing with his tousled (more accurately, matted) blonde hair, and a pair of boots that wouldn't give him too many blisters. After a few minutes writing around on the salty deck to try and get the damn things on, he paused. He had fulfilled all his short term goals (apart from getting drunk enough that he could forget about the hangover and removing the splinters now lodged in several unfortunate places), and now he had to turn to the long term. He was, obviously, on a ship. That gave him three options. First of all, he could try to get off the ship - but as he was dressed in sailor's clothing he would probably be stopped for trying to run away from work. Secondly, he could go out onto the deck proper. He was, still, dressed in sailor's clothing, so he could probably pass as one, but for the fact that he had no idea what sailors actually did and that if anybody knew their shipmates he would be obviously not one of them. Thirdly, which seemed the best plan for the time being, he could stay sitting where he was. He did so.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Dec 18, 2008 18:22:16 GMT -5
Angel breathed out a gentle sigh of relief as she reached the relativly stable deck of the ship, casting a glance back over her shoulder to check that Charlie was alright before letting her eyes dance over the deck of the ship. They were really there! This hardly felt real. After so long traveling to get here in time for this ship and she was finally on board, it was difficult to believe. Even more difficult to believe that she was one step closer to finding out who she really was, which was the whole goal for this little adventure. Now all that stood between her and the Shattered Lands was an ocean, which shouldn't be too difficult to navigate seeing as they were on a ship that was chartered specifically for the Shattered Lands.
She smiled to Roslyn as she walked over to them. "Good morning." She responded, seeming momentarily confused by the suspicious look she gave Charlie, but soon something else took her attention. She frowned faintly as she caught a steady stream of mental curses, their source strangely seeming to be a stretch of tarpaulin by the edge of the deck. She was distracted from the conversation with Roslyn now, tilting her head to the side as she watched the tarpaulin, noticing a bump appear in it. "Is there someone under there?" She questioned, sounding bemused, turning to look up at Charlie, as if expecting that he may be able to cast some light on this. "I can hear someone under there...I am sure that I can..."
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Post by Chani {♥} on Dec 19, 2008 18:10:50 GMT -5
"Morning," Charlie said, shifting the weight of the things more comfortably. He listened to her offer and nodded, offering a lopsided grin. "Yes, that would be very kind of you." He was about to give her a hand to shake and introduce himself and Angel when his companion's question interrupted.
"Under where?" he asked, following her gaze. "The tarpaulin?" He sat his things down next to Angel and walked over to the the canvas, eyeing the bump there suspiciously. He hadn't heard anything... but of course he hadn't. Angel was probably hearing the mystery person's thoughts, and he trusted that sense entirely, having seen it in action himself. He grabbed a corner of the tarpaulin and ripped it back swiftly.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Dec 20, 2008 13:42:01 GMT -5
"Mm?" Roslyn was confused as she watched Charlie pass, her dark brows arching as she too noticed the peculiar bump in the tarpaulin, glancing across at Angel as if to wonder how she knew from just that small detail that someone was beneath it. But then the girl had wings, so who knew what other talents she possessed. There was clearly more than met the eye, as was true with most people. She figured it might have been one of the sailors, having fallen asleep there while drunk when they had come into port the night before, but she couldn't tell for sure. Instead she trailed after Charlie, looking curiously at the tarpaulin as he tugged it away.
The dancer took a step back as Christophe was revealed, looking rather puzzled and not quite knowing what to think as she looked him over. Okay, so he was dressed like a sailor, but he obviously wasn't one, on this particular ship anyway. Roslyn figured she would probably remember this particular 'sailor', there was something about him that made him seem unforgettable. Perhaps it was the stench of ale, she didn't know.
"I'd ask who he was... but I have the distinct feeling that I'd rather not know."
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Post by FLICK on Dec 27, 2008 16:18:12 GMT -5
Christophe had just begun to wonder if he would be less conspicuous if he rested out from underneath the tarpaulin when, lo and behold, somebody else made the decision for him. The thick canvas was pulled back, revealing cruel, bright daylight and the silhouettes of three suspicious characters. He shook his head to briefly dispel the hangover, and sprung from his cross-legged position to his feet.
"Ladies and gentleman," he said, flashing a catlike white smile at the ladies and offering his hand to the man. The women were both quite attractive - his eyes widened fractionally for less than a second at the sight of Angel's wings - although the one on the left was almost as tall as he was and there was a cold look to her amber eyes. Perhaps he could get to know them better a little later, but there was hardly time for those sorts of thoughts before he'd been introduced. "Christophe Evreux, at your service," he said, with an extravagant bow. Everything he did was extravagant, overdone, and yet there was still something charming in the way he conducted himself.
"Hello, angel," he murmured inaudibly, with a glance at the winged woman, before adding a general "And what would your names be?" to the trio.
That was before he realised what Roslyn had said. "Hold on a tic," he said. "I am distinctly not the sort of person you'd like to know! I mean, not the sort of person you'd not not like to know. I mean, I'm very not unknowable. I'm un-unknowable. Some would go as far as to say that I was exceedingly knowable." He crossed his arms in a satisfied manner, content that his infallible logic had trumped her snide comment.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Dec 27, 2008 18:16:46 GMT -5
Surprise was written across her face as the man popped up from beneath the tarpaulin, tilting her head at him as he launched himself into his introduction. How very perculiar, first he had been hiding and now he was making sure that they all knew who he was; his priorities had shifted swiftly, hadn't they? On top of that there was his attire that only added to the oddness of this man. Yes, Angel knew that her clothing was a little worn, but his didn't even look to fit him correctly. In fact, if she were asked to guess she wouldn't say that the clothing even belonged to him, so where his own clothes were must be another story, which probably fitted in with the story about why he was under the tarpaulin in the first place.
However, Angel dismissed all of this as he enquired as to their names, smiling to him pleasantly. "My name is Angel, and my friend is Charlie." She nodded to him, taking it upon herself to introduce everyone before she looked to Roslyn, a slight look of dismay moveing over her features. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid that I didn't catch your name..." She looked a little embarrassed by this, running her fingers through her hair as she glanced across at Charlie, as if to ask if he knew the woman's name.
Her wings fluttered as she listened to Christophe's reasoning, a look of complete confusion in her eyes as she quirked an eyebrow at him. In the end, all she could do was smile and nod to him, not having a clue what he had said and having no intention to ask that he repeated himself.
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Post by Chani {♥} on Jan 1, 2009 10:49:36 GMT -5
Charlie shook Christophe's hand awkwardly, fairly surprised that he hadn't been angered by being uncovered. Was he not embarrassed in the least? How strange. Everything seemed strange about Christophe. But who was he to judge? He listened to the man's ramble thoroughly and then was disappointed that he wasted so much energy deciphering it all when it was summed up by his last comment. What a redundant... Ah well. He was odd, but who wasn't? Normal is a pretty liquid word, changing definition from person to person.
When Angel asked Roslyn her name, Charlie turned his attention to her. She was different, too, but it was that refreshing sort of different, the interesting kind. You just naturally wanted to know more. She was dressed almost ostentatiously and was undeniably beautiful, but there was something cold about her that she did nothing to hide. Maybe it was just her good posture and amber eyes that unnerved Charlie. Whatever the case, he took a surreptitiously scooted back over to Angel.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jan 1, 2009 18:38:20 GMT -5
Roslyn blinked in unhidden confusion at Christophe's sudden and quite elaborate introduction; Angel had been right, for someone who before had been making an effort not to be noticed, he was rather abrupt and all too willing to give complete strangers his name upon discovery. And considering that his latest stream of rambling was directed towards her earlier comment, she couldn't help but feel obligated to respond.
"Well, I'm afraid I'm not well rehearsed in the names of drunkards who spend their time hiding beneath tarpaulins." she put in softly, "So, regrettably, I can't say that I have heard of you, as exceedingly knowable as you might be." she tilted her head as if to say that he could use his infallible logic on her as often as he liked, but the snide comments were just going to keep on coming.
She turned to give Angel a brief and rather apologetic smile as she spoke, shaking her head as though to say it didn't matter. "It's alright, I didn't give you my name, you don't need to be embarrassed." she shrugged to her, casting her gaze to the ocean for a moment, seeming to be distracted by it before suddenly turning back to look at them.
"I'm Roslyn." she nodded eventually, "Although you may hear the sailors here call me Lady Fortune. That name is getting ridiculously popular..." she frowned faintly.
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Post by FLICK on Jan 2, 2009 17:01:32 GMT -5
But Christophe hadn't been hiding, or trying not to be noticed - something he was very good at, when he put his mind to it. He was simply not trying not to be noticed, which he was evindently not so good at, mind put to it or not. Having been noticed, there was no reason not to be as polite as it was possible for Christophe to be.
The snide comments could keep on coming, but Christophe had noticed that one brief moment of confusion that broke through her ever-so-seemingly unflappable exterior and mentally added it to his score count. And she could tilt all she wanted, but his infalliable logic wasn't going to stop until the snide comments did.
"And I wouldn't be so quick to assume, or presume, as the case might be, that Case A, being me, would be a drunkard. It might be that Case A presumes ye are a drunkard, albeit unlikely with your pretty clothes and affected airs, or that A merely might have found himself in the unfortunate position of being thrown up on by a drunkard, thus earning A some of the- oh, I'm just going to stop, I think. Drunkard is a pretty apt term at the moment, but only occasionally." He flashed a grin. It was all the more confusing when one considered that he said it all at the speed a battalion of Iosent's best archers could loose their arrows.
"So, where are we all off to?" he asked merrily.
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