-The Mythics RP-

[-Kiwi-]

Wings rustled uncomfortably beneath the dark cloak as the Harpy sidestepped quickly, her boots clicking over the cobblestones embedded in the street from the sudden shift in pace.
"Watch it!"
The burly man's words slurred groggily as he half stumbled half stomped past, the sour smell of alcohol and body odor wafting behind him, clinging to his disgusting clothes.
Ember tracked him with a frigid glare from beneath the hood's shadow, letting out a loud scoff from sneered lips before turning and striding back on her course, dark cloth whispering in response to the movement.
Pathetic humans.
There were too many pubs in this town. It seemed like every ten strides, another drunk sailor or thug lay passed out in the gutters of the narrow road or stumbled in and out of the various buildings. Dangerous or filthy-looking humans lingered around the shade of the wooden structures or sauntered loudly down the cobblestone, all containing similar or the same looks of suspicion or haughtiness on their dirt-smudged faces.
Ember sidestepped again around a pair of heavy and rugged men, both singing out of sync to some jolly, sea-faring tune, one leaning heavier against the other, drool dripping undignifying from his twisted grin. A loud and choppy, high-pitched whistle cut the mist-soden air from the direction of one of the larger buildings.
"Hey'a, yung laddy!"
Ember ignored the comment, slipping past a burly woman who stormed past with an armful of heavy sacks.
"Wat's a frail littl' thing like yeeself doin' out in te' stret this hour?"
Ember shot a cold glance from the corner of her eye, still maintaining her pace, watching the trio of sailors sharply. One leaned against a large barrel set against the wall of one of the pubs, the other standing arms crossed in the door-frame, and the third sprawled amongst a pile of crates.
"Why 'ontcha come an' grace us with yer fine presence this mornin' miss? Would luvta meetcha."
Ember focused her gaze ahead again, pulling the dark hood further down over her face.
"Of all the insolent rabble..." she hissed darkly, the rough leather gloves rubbing irritating against her skin with the movement.
The jaunty sound of the sailor's voices faded gradually, though Ember's irritation only continued to simmer.
Mist clung to her cloak, collecting and slowly soaking through the cloth, humidity seeping and stirring beneath the fabric and making her wings itch. The haze of clouds sagging over the town glowed faintly as dawn approached, the sun still crawling lazily from beneath the horizon.
A ship. That's all she needed. Pirate's Cove was crawling with smugglers and thieves, humans and sometimes even mythics willing to defy the king right beneath his very nose.
Ember turned down yet another unruly street, heading in the direction of the ever-present rumbling of the sea.

(Pfffft, got lazy with this one at the end. I think I have an idea to get some character interactions started.)

I lovev He way you write the accent :>

 

[-Kiwi-]

The tall man blinked. “Right, my bad,” he said apologetically.

He stepped out of Layna’s way so he didn’t encumber her mopping.

“Hmmm… obviously we have to target someone important to make a differebce,” he mused. “
But not too high profile, because we don’t want to destroy the entire world. Yet.” Will ran a hand through his messy black hair, tapping his foot thoughtfully. He tipped his head towards Alyana. “I think I’d need to be more familiar with the officials here though.”

@Blue Raptor

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

The gentle rain slid off of Jintao's heavy sailor's coat as he walked down the cold sidewalk. New arrivals of people rushed by on the busy street towards hotels and tavrens, some on foot, others in carriages or on horses. A busy man bumped into Jintao, knocking the package from under Jintao's only arm. "Watch it, will you!" the man growled. He pushed Jintao further out of his way and hurried to a nearby pub. Jintao bent down, picking up the carefully wrapped fish that was to be his food. He swept off the package and huffed. Nobody ever had respect for anyone around here, not even for those who were handicapped.

Jintao pushed pass the busy crowd and went into the store he had so often gone to before. It was just as busy inside as it was outside. Strangers rushing for the first goods they'd purchase since arriving on this island shouted at those crowding them and pushed others out of their way. Jintao moved to the side of the check-out counter and watched hurried buyers pay for their new treasures.

"Back from another fishing trip, are ya?" Jintao turned to the clerk standing next to him. He was a short man with greying hair. "Not really," he replied. "I'm stuck on this side of the gate." "Ain't we all," the clerk smiled. He bent down below the counter. "Hey, I got those new spices you ordered," he stood up, placing a small package in front of Jintao. Jintao put his original package down and picked up the new one. "I thought you weren't allowed past the gate either," he said. The cleck placed his elbows on the counter and balanced his head on his calloused hands. "It doesn't mean I can't get what my customers want, does it?" he asked.

"I suppose not," Jintao placed the spices down and reached for his wallet. "Oh, no," the clerk placed a hand on Jintao's arm. "This is on the house. You've been one of my most faithful customers, so how could I not reward you with something special?" Jintao smiled from gratitude. "I don't know how I could thank you-" "Don't. Just keep returning here." The cleck moved close to Jintao. Like he had some secret, he looked around for anyone who might be listening. "I sell the best spices in all of Bayport and customers know that. That is all thanks to you and your taste buds. I wouldn't be able to sell what I do if it wasn't for you always noticing the flaws with every company." He patted Jintao on the shoulder as he walked past. "Let me know what you think of them. If they're good enough for you, let me know. I'll keep this place stocked."

"Will do," Jintao replied. He shoved the fish under his arm and carried the spices in his hand. He stopped by the door and watched the clerk serve another customer. At least one person cares. He exited the store and headed down the street. It took him twenty minutes to reach the neighborhood where he lived. There was apartment buildings on both sides of the street. Their chipped painting and dull lighting revealed that this was the poverty side of the city.

Jintao came to the building that he lived in. It's windows were dirty and the ladders were rusty. The front door was gone from when someone broke it a few months before. Jintao went to his apartment. It was on the first floor and was the second door to the left. He sat his packages down on the floor so he could unlock his door. There was no click on the lock. Another thief must have broken in again. It happened often, as anyone on the first floor was usually the easiest for thieves to access. Jintao picked up his packages and pushed inside. He sat the spices on the counter and put the fish in his fridge.

Jintao went around his apartment picking up the mess the thief must have made. There was nothing stolen, except for the antique clock that was in his living room. He was poor and he owned nothing of value. The clock was left from the last resident, so as far as it's value, Jintao had never considered it. He sulked down on his ragged couch and closed his eyes. It had been a long few days. His work was hard, and even harder with only one hand to help him do it. He hoped to drift off to sleep if his thoughts would allow it.

 

[-Shade-]

Wings rustled uncomfortably beneath the dark cloak as the Harpy sidestepped quickly, her boots clicking over the cobblestones embedded in the street from the sudden shift in pace.
"Watch it!"
The burly man's words slurred groggily as he half stumbled half stomped past, the sour smell of alcohol and body odor wafting behind him, clinging to his disgusting clothes.
Ember tracked him with a frigid glare from beneath the hood's shadow, letting out a loud scoff from sneered lips before turning and striding back on her course, dark cloth whispering in response to the movement.
Pathetic humans.
There were too many pubs in this town. It seemed like every ten strides, another drunk sailor or thug lay passed out in the gutters of the narrow road or stumbled in and out of the various buildings. Dangerous or filthy-looking humans lingered around the shade of the wooden structures or sauntered loudly down the cobblestone, all containing similar or the same looks of suspicion or haughtiness on their dirt-smudged faces.
Ember sidestepped again around a pair of heavy and rugged men, both singing out of sync to some jolly, sea-faring tune, one leaning heavier against the other, drool dripping undignifying from his twisted grin. A loud and choppy, high-pitched whistle cut the mist-soden air from the direction of one of the larger buildings.
"Hey'a, yung laddy!"
Ember ignored the comment, slipping past a burly woman who stormed past with an armful of heavy sacks.
"Wat's a frail littl' thing like yeeself doin' out in te' stret this hour?"
Ember shot a cold glance from the corner of her eye, still maintaining her pace, watching the trio of sailors sharply. One leaned against a large barrel set against the wall of one of the pubs, the other standing arms crossed in the door-frame, and the third sprawled amongst a pile of crates.
"Why 'ontcha come an' grace us with yer fine presence this mornin' miss? Would luvta meetcha."
Ember focused her gaze ahead again, pulling the dark hood further down over her face.
"Of all the insolent rabble..." she hissed darkly, the rough leather gloves rubbing irritating against her skin with the movement.
The jaunty sound of the sailor's voices faded gradually, though Ember's irritation only continued to simmer.
Mist clung to her cloak, collecting and slowly soaking through the cloth, humidity seeping and stirring beneath the fabric and making her wings itch. The haze of clouds sagging over the town glowed faintly as dawn approached, the sun still crawling lazily from beneath the horizon.
A ship. That's all she needed. Pirate's Cove was crawling with smugglers and thieves, humans and sometimes even mythics willing to defy the king right beneath his very nose.
Ember turned down yet another unruly street, heading in the direction of the ever-present rumbling of the sea.

(Pfffft, got lazy with this one at the end. I think I have an idea to get some character interactions started.)

Hey @RDchicken99, do you wanna do Vhanya again so we can maybe connect paths?

 

[RDchicken99]

Hey @RDchicken99, do you wanna do Vhanya again so we can maybe connect paths?

Sure!
I have tons of ideas already..

 

[Blue Raptor]

The tall man blinked. “Right, my bad,” he said apologetically.

He stepped out of Layna’s way so he didn’t encumber her mopping.

“Hmmm… obviously we have to target someone important to make a differebce,” he mused. “
But not too high profile, because we don’t want to destroy the entire world. Yet.” Will ran a hand through his messy black hair, tapping his foot thoughtfully. He tipped his head towards Alyana. “I think I’d need to be more familiar with the officials here though.”

Alayna scrubbed on in silence for a moment, running what Wilroc had said through her thought process.
“The soldiers on either side of this ridiculous war would mirror the beliefs they project, right?” She said absently, pulling herself up straight and gazing around the room with half-focused eyes as she thought. “I mean, yeah, I know either side would.. do that,” her gaze hardened,” but I’m not looking to wage war with the whole world right now. Just half of it. Or a third of it, technically.” She waved a hand dismissively towards the west wall of the bakery. “Whatever. I just don’t know how to find out who it was. We’re close enough to Freedman that it could be any number of the king’s supporters, or just some soldier from down South.” Layna sighed.
“You can try heading down towards the Rebel base to see if you can figure out anything,” she said, leaning on the mop handle as she looked over at Will. “And I can send someone up North to check around there. I know it’s not safe, but I trust you. And I can’t go anywhere myself until we have solid information cause someone might need my help.”

 

[_-Captain BRM-_]

Alayna scrubbed on in silence for a moment, running what Wilroc had said through her thought process.
“The soldiers on either side of this ridiculous war would mirror the beliefs they project, right?” She said absently, pulling herself up straight and gazing around the room with half-focused eyes as she thought. “I mean, yeah, I know either side would.. do that,” her gaze hardened,” but I’m not looking to wage war with the whole world right now. Just half of it. Or a third of it, technically.” She waved a hand dismissively towards the west wall of the bakery. “Whatever. I just don’t know how to find out who it was. We’re close enough to Freedman that it could be any number of the king’s supporters, or just some soldier from down South.” Layna sighed.
“You can try heading down towards the Rebel base to see if you can figure out anything,” she said, leaning on the mop handle as she looked over at Will. “And I can send someone up North to check around there. I know it’s not safe, but I trust you. And I can’t go anywhere myself until we have solid information cause someone might need my help.”

This is wonderful.

But.

 

[RDchicken99]

The streets of Pirate’s Cove were especially crowded, the weather had lately been ideal for sailing ships, and smuggling was at its highest point of the year.
Vhanya was itching to take advantage of the activity, she had sold off the mare with little trouble and her earnings jingled in her beltpouch as she strode down the cobbled streets - they’d be enough for a new spiritsail on the Quicksilver, with maybe a little left over for her to treat herself to a new pair of earrings.
She soon rounded a corner and made straight for the busy docks, avoiding the elbows and shoulders of various pedestrians; she knew these streets like the back of her hand.

The docks of Pirate’s Cove were a different sort of challenge than its drunkard-riddled alleyways. The lapping of waves against ship hulls offered a constant white noise over the shouts of dock-workers. Gull droppings were healthily plastered over the docks’ wooden boards, and shrill cries from the nuisance seabirds overhead never failed to remind one that they were always watching with their beady eyes, faithfully observant for any sort of dropped morsel.

A gull attempting to gorge itself on someone’s fishing catch narrowly missed Vhanya’s boot, she cursed under her breath; she was certain that kick would’ve landed. Her yellow eyes followed the bird as it winged away, then turned to gaze fondly at her ship, which was docked neatly, just as it had been a month ago. Despite the overall anarchy that ruled Pirate’s Cove, there was one unspoken rule: “Ne’er bother with some-other’s ship, ore‘else summat bound to happen to ’ye” she could practically hear her grandfather’s voice saying it.

The Quicksilver was a rather beautiful specimen- The ship was a frigate, sleek and fast, ideal for navigating the rocky seas surrounding the Island. Her sails were a smooth gray, and her hull was painted a charcoal black accented with crisp white stripes - a very expensive paint job, mind you.

Vhanya was pleased, her ship had been properly taken care of; she wouldn’t have to kill anyone in retribution. She reached up to fix her braid, it had gotten rather tussled by the sea breezes.
Now to assemble a crew.

(yech, this took SO long to write)

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

The day soon grew old as the sky darkened with night. Gecko took to the air, shortening his time in travel. He arrived at Pirates Cove exhausted. Gecko slid his torn cloak over his wings and headed for the bustle of the town. There was humans everywhere, but he paid them no mind. None of them were the one that he hunted, or were they? A drunken sailor tripped over a water trough nearby. He laughed at his foolishness despite his sudden wetness. Gecko fixed on him. Was it possible this was the one he was so desperately seeking? The sailor stumbled towards him. Laying both of his hands on Gecko's shoulders, he muttered something that the Harpy couldn't understand.

Gecko stared hard into the drunken man's eyes. This was not the one he was seeking. He stunk badly of alcohol, had salt-stained clothes, and he held himself poorly. "Get your paws off of me," Gecko said, strangely calm. "Paws?" the sailor exclaimed. He burst out in laughter. Gecko grabbed both of the man's hands and pulled them off his shoulders. The sailor looked down. Gecko's hands weren't like normal hands, they were clawed. "Oh..." the sailor trailed off. Gecko shoved his hands behind his back, suddenly remembering that he forgot to glove them. "Go home," he said. "Your eyes are causing you to see strange things." With that, he abandoned the drunk and hurried out of the town.

 

[-Shade-]

Ember paced restless up and down the cobbled boardwalk that edged the docks.
The place was disgusting. Ships and planks and railings crowded with filthy sea birds, each one as dangerously brave as they were generously messy. Half the boats were unkempt or looked deserted altogether, a few barely even sea-worthy. Sailors occupied nearly every pier and strip of dock, unloading and loading ships, organizing supplies, cursing at the birds.
Ember watched it all warily.
Over the past hour or so, she'd narrowed down her options to three ships. The fastest or the cleanest, the smaller and lighter, less busy ones. Less troublesome ones.
All she had to do now was figure out which one was willing to go her way.
There was a low-hulled cargo ship, dull and basic, but clean and organized. Probably interwoven with the king's shipping management, but it had a calm and quiet aura to it.
A private owned shipping boat, painted a mellow, boring shade of light blue. Only one old sailor had been tending to its cargo and sails, slowly hobbling up and down the small boarding plank, the clunking of his peg leg easy to distinguish.
The third ship was a frigate- a gorgeous glossy black with pristine highlights that seemed to glow in the gloomy morning mist. It was without a crew, deserted of all except, of course, the gulls. A lone sailor stood gazing up at the sleek vessel, pressing back her matching crow-black hair.
Ember leaned back against the wood building behind her, arms folded tightly over her chest as she watched, motionless, the organized chaos of the docks proceed.

@RDchicken99 (idk if you can find a way to tie this in, 'cause I'm having trouble linking it)