-The Mythics RP-

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-Shade- said:
Jintao's mental mask was strong, but Ember's sixth sense pricked- the tense of a muscle, the glance of an eye- invisible things filing into an aura of disgust. Again. Her lip curled slightly as he slipped past her, revealing a dangerous pointed canine.
"I'll arrange it."
Her voice crackled with poorly restrained venom and she closed the door swiftly, the slam echoing louder than she intended.
Useless pageantry.
She stormed away, wings flaring. What was the point of civilized talk- especially allowing a little crack into the dark attic that was her past- just for these inconsistent humans to turn a lip up at her?
Pretending he has a right to paint who I am. Let him be inconvenienced then.
She found herself on the sunset-painted main deck, raking the shuffling collection of sailors for the human called "Lyra."

@Lacy Duckwing
@_-Captain BRM-_ (Update our friend's position)
Click to expand...
Ududuugullylylylllugluglug wherever, dude, but I doubt she'd be on deck socializing-
 
-Shade- said:
I can't just PULL HER OUT OF THIN AIR, at least point me in a direction mate
Click to expand...
I haven't a clue. Probably somewhere SUSPICIOUS. Put us in a really incredibly awkward situation wherein Tay looks like an absolute criminal, because obviously I haven't damaged her character enough as it is 😭

I feel like I weild a sword (character) taylored to Odysseus (Homer). Tay's story is an excellent prospect, but I am literally messing her up SO badly.
Gosh.
I'm horrible for it, dude, sincerely SO RUDE.
Must do her justice.

The kitchen scene was very Tay-like, though. I just.. I can't always channel the extreme writer side of me these days. Usually it's spent on my own non-fictional adventures. Which I hope to share with you all soon (: I got to hear the story of a Ukrainian refugee, and I'm working to write it all up.
 
-Shade- said:
Jintao's mental mask was strong, but Ember's sixth sense pricked- the tense of a muscle, the glance of an eye- invisible things filing into an aura of disgust. Again. Her lip curled slightly as he slipped past her, revealing a dangerous pointed canine.
"I'll arrange it."
Her voice crackled with poorly restrained venom and she closed the door swiftly, the slam echoing louder than she intended.
Useless pageantry.
She stormed away, wings flaring. What was the point of civilized talk- especially allowing a little crack into the dark attic that was her past- just for these inconsistent humans to turn a lip up at her?
Pretending he has a right to paint who I am. Let him be inconvenienced then.
She found herself on the sunset-painted main deck, raking the shuffling collection of sailors for the human called "Lyra."

@Lacy Duckwing
@_-Captain BRM-_ (Update our friend's position)
Click to expand...
The sky was reduced to the faint light of dusk, inviting a crawling, thick matt of ocean mist to collect beneath the port and around the waists of docked ships.
Aboard the Quicksilver, her crew was set to assembling the hammocks for the night. For once, the chaos and scrambling of the ragged bunch had settled into a gentle, excited hum. The ship herself was taught and heavy with the anticipation of the next day's sail, and her members were filled with life and ready for the first ringing commands of dawn.

And so Ember had found her apprehension settle down along with the ship, content in the guaranteed strength of the controlled chaos.
The Harpy gave a gentle tug at the fastenings wrapped over the folded sails, testing their hold. Satisfied, she crouched beneath them, perched on the main yard with her wings cupped close around her like a bristling hawk.

Still, despite the upturn in events, she couldn't quell the hardened rage that sat in her chest like a weighted stone. The first mate was proving to be a threat and a nuisance. With the first words he'd spoken aboard the 'Silver, he'd insulted her. Yet ousted to take her side with the incident in the powder chamber. Only to then turn back and inwardly sneer at not just her lack of immediate experience, but indirectly at her upbringing. How undecided he was. How inconsistent.
How unfair.

It would have been harder to brush off the sensation of his disappointment that her heritage sense had picked up in the cabin. Scrape together the benefit of the doubt from her bitter soul. Her hatred for his kind made the simpler option far more appealing. She'd sleep better by simply despising him for it.
A gentle flame slithered between her half-curled fingers and she twined it gently before pressing the clawed tips to her mouth. She sucked in a slow, agitated breath, relishing the stinging smell of smoke.

I would make you pay, human, the firebird brooded inwardly.
Pay for the sins of your twisted kind. The whole bloody, twisted lot of you. I could. I won't.
She bent a knee down against the yard, half kneeling and bracing her position with one hand, resting the other on her sword.
The man's collective actions were a silent taunt. How dare she be in a higher position and have never tasted the life of sea? She was unworthy to him. Lesser.
She had to make some sort of reply to the jeering he never spoke and likely didn't even know. The next day would provide the opportunity, and she was quick to seize such precious moments.
But she needed more.

Ember lept suddenly, launching away from the main mast toward the Captain's door, flashing her wings out to brace against the wind as her feet struck the deck.
In the dim evening light, the shadowed form of a human sulked. The harpy flinched, startled, baring sharp teeth and raising a burning fist.

Lyra blinked equally startled eyes back at her.
"What are you doing out here?"
Her voice had lost its usual coolness, replaced with extreme exasperation.

@_-Captain BRM-_ (Omgosh Cap, do something with this disaster because I REFUSE to understand and accurately predict YOUR character's actions, present or future.)
 
-Shade- said:
The sky was reduced to the faint light of dusk, inviting a crawling, thick matt of ocean mist to collect beneath the port and around the waists of docked ships.
Aboard the Quicksilver, her crew was set to assembling the hammocks for the night. For once, the chaos and scrambling of the ragged bunch had settled into a gentle, excited hum. The ship herself was taught and heavy with the anticipation of the next day's sail, and her members were filled with life and ready for the first ringing commands of dawn.

And so Ember had found her apprehension settle down along with the ship, content in the guaranteed strength of the controlled chaos.
The Harpy gave a gentle tug at the fastenings wrapped over the folded sails, testing their hold. Satisfied, she crouched beneath them, perched on the main yard with her wings cupped close around her like a bristling hawk.

Still, despite the upturn in events, she couldn't quell the hardened rage that sat in her chest like a weighted stone. The first mate was proving to be a threat and a nuisance. With the first words he'd spoken aboard the 'Silver, he'd insulted her. Yet ousted to take her side with the incident in the powder chamber. Only to then turn back and inwardly sneer at not just her lack of immediate experience, but indirectly at her upbringing. How undecided he was. How inconsistent.
How unfair.

It would have been harder to brush off the sensation of his disappointment that her heritage sense had picked up in the cabin. Scrape together the benefit of the doubt from her bitter soul. Her hatred for his kind made the simpler option far more appealing. She'd sleep better by simply despising him for it.
A gentle flame slithered between her half-curled fingers and she twined it gently before pressing the clawed tips to her mouth. She sucked in a slow, agitated breath, relishing the stinging smell of smoke.

I would make you pay, human, the firebird brooded inwardly.
Pay for the sins of your twisted kind. The whole bloody, twisted lot of you. I could. I won't.
She bent a knee down against the yard, half kneeling and bracing her position with one hand, resting the other on her sword.
The man's collective actions were a silent taunt. How dare she be in a higher position and have never tasted the life of sea? She was unworthy to him. Lesser.
She had to make some sort of reply to the jeering he never spoke and likely didn't even know. The next day would provide the opportunity, and she was quick to seize such precious moments.
But she needed more.

Ember lept suddenly, launching away from the main mast toward the Captain's door, flashing her wings out to brace against the wind as her feet struck the deck.
In the dim evening light, the shadowed form of a human sulked. The harpy flinched, startled, baring sharp teeth and raising a burning fist.

Lyra blinked equally startled eyes back at her.
"What are you doing out here?"
Her voice had lost its usual coolness, replaced with extreme exasperation.

@_-Captain BRM-_ (Omgosh Cap, do something with this disaster because I REFUSE to understand and accurately predict YOUR character's actions, present or future.)
Click to expand...
For a moment, Tay stared, and her gaze spoke cool acknowledgement. She cleared her throat, and blinked again. "This is a free ship, is it not? I am a free woman, and a member of this crew." Her voice took on a testing quality, "Am I not permitted here?" Wind gathered sticky hair over the woman's eyes, but she did not remove it.
 

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