-The Mythics RP-

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-Shade- said:
She man is literally breaking my heart...
I regret everything Ember holds and hates against him, but I can't escape that from her character- it IS her character, and I have to stay realistic, even if it hurts this OTHER character which in turn hurts me
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Once I felt this way with Tay.
Ember is insufferable on the outside, but we see so much head pov, that she becomes tolerable and understandable.
 
_-Captain BRM-_ said:
Once I felt this way with Tay.
Ember is insufferable on the outside, but we see so much head pov, that she becomes tolerable and understandable.
Click to expand...
Therefore, for the sake of her survival as a character, she has to have head pov
She'll do something more noble later in the RP don't worry
 
Lacy Duckwing said:
The evening's cool breeze was greeted with the sailors' singing below. A voice from the crow’s nest above joined in unison, reminding Jintao that he was being watched, even here. He looked over his shoulder, Coal's song echoing in the darkness, and despised the joy he heard. He'd never be allowed the such pleasure of joy again, not even here.
Everything was dark and against him, even the depression that made its home deep inside his soul. Jintao turned back to the waters, his eyes focusing more on the shadowing depths than the reflection of the stars. Nothing more could be said about the situation and with the ship already at sea, turning back was no option. Nautalis wanted him to stay longer, but he made up his mind that as soon as they reached the Undermine, he was gone.
The distant flicker from the Captain's cabin caught Jintao's attention. Cyrus headed below deck, most likely in pursuit of rest. Jintao's dagger would be left with the Captain, locked away in her desk or hidden safe.
Jintao shook his head, leaning further down the taffrail. He pulled off his hat and slammed it at his feet. If Captain Mavyak had acted like Vhanya, would her first mate not have risen against her? Killing her not single-handed but with abuse from specifically chosen members- one of which that was Jintao? Chosen in lead and favored by the cruel Nahash Ammoni.
Jintao squirmed against the rail, clawing his fingers through his coal-black hair as sickness stirred his empty stomach. Vhanya is an idiot! the thoughts screamed. Why would she set me as first mate without knowing my history? I'm worth nothing but dead to her and her ship!
Jintao curled. His thoughts wouldn't leave him. Alcohol couldn't kill them, but even if it could, he wouldn't touch it. Too many times he was included in the death of rebels like Captain Mavyak, and every single one of them he was too drunk to even know his name.
Jintao's hand freed itself from the tangled black strands and he straightened himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing the day he was born. Tay's words of mercy should have never come. He should have experienced the Captain's wrath, even if it was with the hands of Ember and a lashing. He was such a fool, he shouldn't have accepted such an easy way out.
He let go of his bridge, the constant singing of joy becaming more of annoyance to him. He scooped up his hat, placing it over his brows- a little lower than it was when the Captain scolded him. It didn't matter. She was going too easy on him. He deserved worst for what he had done, including for the crimes that was encouraged on the Destruction.
The boards creaked under Jintao's heavy footsteps. Darkness of depression filled his head with all the reasons why he deserved death more than anybody as he made his way down the stairwell. Voices in song grew louder, coming out in rolls of laughter as means of control and torment. Jintao shook his head. It was as it always had been. Nahash had taught his crew the value of mockery and the great damage it caused their helpless victims.
The Quartermistress' cabin door was open with the haunting flicker of light. Jintao turned away from it, fearful of seeing Tay in the state  he had put her in.
You'll never change, you'll never change, like a shadow of a man, his thoughts hung over him, digging his pit deeper. All you do is bring pain. See? You couldn't even hold it back from Lyra. She never meant you harm, and to think, you might of even been falling for her. Shame on you! You'd even hurt someone you love!
Jintao rushed to his cabin, hoping that somehow Cyrus wasn't there. It was dark and without breath. He closed the door behind him, holding it shut to keep the thoughts on the other side. It was useless, he told himself. He left the door, lit the lantern on the desk, and sunk down on his hammock. His breath was heavy and slow. He laid back, watching the lantern's flickers on the ceiling above. It offered odd soothing, soothing he wasn't sure he should accept.
Jintao sat up, wanting the comfort but refusing to enjoy it. He stood up, removing his coat and placing it on his hammock. His thinness poked his conscience, warning him that Cyrus was sure to judge that was well. He pulled the spare shirt from his empty sleeve. He had refused too many days without food, a simple punishment of pure laziness; laziness often occupied with depression and self-guilt.
Jintao threw the crumbled up shirt onto his hammock and a piece of parchment escaped upon its landing. He opened his mouth slightly, closing it in caution. Sloppy cursive stood against the crinkles, inviting him to read it. He picked it up, eyes scanning the words.
Thus saith the LORD, The people which were left of the sword found grace in the wilderness; even Israel, when I went to cause him rest. The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have...
Jintao closed his eyes. He had written this just after his amputation. Each word was copied from the book that the kind guard had given him. Why? he asked. He wasn't sure anymore. At the time it offered him both a new life and hope, but now, he had forgotten it.
Jintao opened his eyes. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to read the rest of the words on the page. He was too far gone; returning to his vomit and in the place that'd get him killed. He shoved his shirt under his hammock, hiding the parchment in its folds. Sitting his hat on of the pile, he turned away, pushing any hope far from his mind. He laid down on his hammock with his back facing the outside and covered himself with his coat. The lantern could flicker. Cyrus was sure to come in soon, and he could blow it out when he was ready.
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(Wow. This is so eloquent, your writing shows me a new perspective. I understand his feelings. This is just so good )
 
_-Captain BRM-_ said:
Once I felt this way with Tay.
Ember is insufferable on the outside, but we see so much head pov, that she becomes tolerable and understandable.
Click to expand...
(I like how Coal has done nothing super objectionable yet but somehow still magnified Jintao's suffering. 😂)
 
_-Captain BRM-_ said:
Her hesitation was brief- there was no room for argument. Feet soundless on the floor, she slid into the seat beside Cyrus, sitting oddly over the coarse folds of her torn skirts. "I do not believe it broken," voice low, "not more than a bruise." She did not look at him as she spoke, pulling back her sleeve and pressing her forearm to the hard table.
Oh, she was overwhelmed. But to play cards wisely... What would the next move demand?
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-Shade- said:
Ember's expression hardened at the command, but she obeyed, swiftly flicking the door of the lantern open and brushing the oil wick with a flaming hand.
As exhaustion tugged at the edges of her mind, the hesitant reminiscence of this same motion bloomed in her memory- and the Professor would have asked her to light the lantern again, the same tone as Cyprus. How terrible this man was.
The wick came to life and she withdrew, extinguishing her hand as the gentle light filled the cabin once more.
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(Proofreading back on this, Cyrus sure zooms in and out of there lol 🤣)

The flame bloomed with a wave of the quartermistress’s hand. “Thank you, Ember,” said Cyrus, adjusting his spectacles to examine Lyra’s wrist under the warm light.
Under gentle extension and flexion there was no sound of crackling, which affirmed Lyra’s assumption that it was not broken. Iodine was poured onto a rag and lightly pressed to the few places where flesh was torn, Cyrus made note of the swelling and the bruise that had since darkened considerably from when he last saw it.
Lyra’s arm still clasped, with his spare hand Cyrus retrieved the bandages from his bag and began to evenly wrap the thin wrist with quick, sure motions. He spoke assuredly as he worked, “the bones themselves are bruised. In overuse they could fracture, and in that instance we would have a far greater problem to address—“ upon taking the bandage over her palm and back to her forearm, he pulled the fabric taut, securing it with a small clasp— “therefore, you must avoid strain and most motion all together. The bandage will keep it stable, but you will task yourself to ensure it stays that way.”
Cyrus straightened, loosing his glasses from his nose and folding them neatly, “tomorrow, if the bustle of the day permits, I will show you how to wrap it yourself.”
Some brief moments passed, and the contents of Cyrus’s bag were assumed back into their original order, and his overcoat was donned.
“Now, is that all understood, miss Lyra? I’d best be on my way, the morning will be demanding on all of us,”he made towards the exit, stopping in the doorway to nod his farewell, “good night, God bless you both.”
 
RDchicken99 said:
(Proofreading back on this, Cyrus sure zooms in and out of there lol 🤣)

The flame bloomed with a wave of the quartermistress’s hand. “Thank you, Ember,” said Cyrus, adjusting his spectacles to examine Lyra’s wrist under the warm light.
Under gentle extension and flexion there was no sound of crackling, which affirmed Lyra’s assumption that it was not broken. Iodine was poured onto a rag and lightly pressed to the few places where flesh was torn, Cyrus made note of the swelling and the bruise that had since darkened considerably from when he last saw it.
Lyra’s arm still clasped, with his spare hand Cyrus retrieved the bandages from his bag and began to evenly wrap the thin wrist with quick, sure motions. He spoke assuredly as he worked, “the bones themselves are bruised. In overuse they could fracture, and in that instance we would have a far greater problem to address—“ upon taking the bandage over her palm and back to her forearm, he pulled the fabric taut, securing it with a small clasp— “therefore, you must avoid strain and most motion all together. The bandage will keep it stable, but you will task yourself to ensure it stays that way.”
Cyrus straightened, loosing his glasses from his nose and folding them neatly, “tomorrow, if the bustle of the day permits, I will show you how to wrap it yourself.”
Some brief moments passed, and the contents of Cyrus’s bag were assumed back into their original order, and his overcoat was donned.
“Now, is that all understood, miss Lyra? I’d best be on my way, the morning will be demanding on all of us,”he made towards the exit, stopping in the doorway to nod his farewell, “good night, God bless you both.”
Click to expand...
Ember inhaled sharply at the man's words, suddenly bracing a hand on the desk, clattering its contents.
The motion would likely startle Lyra, and she prayed Cyrus wouldn't notice as well- she needed to withdraw before the storm overcame her completely. She knew it would this time, she could not escape.
Her eyes flashed back to the woman, refusing eye contact before she yanked her head away again, feeling sick.
How dare the Captain assign her to share quarters with another being. It was all she could manage to blame through the haze of memories- something had to make sense. And so she blamed the Captain, otherwise Cyrus's speech would have been directed to her alone, not to both of them, and his expression of departure wouldn't have assumed the identical words. It was the only excuse she could ground herself on.
"Bless you."
The response slipped through her lips on instinct, barely worthy of a whisper, and the sound of her own voice stung her tormented mind further. The response would echo back again as well, as always, from the other end of the room- echo from another voice that now only sounded in her mind.
Curse the fates- five years wasn't long enough to grow up. Fourteen was too long to forget.
Ember steeled herself outward as best she could, giving the man a returning nod before turning and striding back to her hammock, unwanting of a response.

@_-Captain BRM-_
@RDchicken99
 
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