-The Mythics RP-

[-Shade-]

THANK YOU SO MUCH THAT IS NICEST THING EVERYONE HAS EVER SAID ABOUT MY WRITING EVERYONE THINKS ITS GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT View attachment 3727543

Well, it's similar to poetry, in a way. By using the grammar in a way that may SEEM incorrect, you are creating an indirect mindset for your readers to pick up regarding your character, in a writing style that echoes some of the techniques of Doctor Suess, by creating words that can legally exist in a more free-minded and restraintless style. I love the mood it paints for me, and the character mind it is putting me into

 

[Isabella7Storm5]

The sun was fully intent on rising now. Her pocketwatch currently stashed in her cabin on the ship, Vhanya could only estimate the time. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the hazy morning light, and figured it was around a quarter past five. They’d need to start moving soon, either to gather more crewmates or to ready the Quicksilver for sailing, the skies looked clear enough.

She was attempting to be long-suffering with the Harpies, but as Galen launched himself away from the starboard and into the salty air she felt a slight pang of annoyance, it was rather quite unfair that such Mythics could fly around as they pleased.
They’ll make an excellent crew, though. Being able to fly past the ratlines to the sails will be much more efficient, Vhanya reasoned, and she knew to prize efficiency.

She tucked her tail into a loose leg of her trousers as she listened to the questioning of the hooded Mythic and Ember. She regarded the former for a long, quiet moment, then finally spoke with a slight sigh. “I’ve changed my mind. You may join the crew.”

She turned to Ember and started to walk towards the prow, gesturing for the woman to follow, “you’ll be my Quartermistress, aye?“
She talked steadily, the Harpy had asked for a Captain, and she would get one; starting with orders.
“I want more hands. Take a partner and scout for potential crewmates. Keep your wings hidden- during the day the souls around here are a little less drunk and more likely to notice a Mythic. Is that all clear?”

Vhanya stopped at the fore, arms akimbo, and turned to face the motley collection of Mythics aboard the ship.
“Expect for us to set sail tomorrow, as close to daybreak as possible if all goes well. I’m expecting all of you to pull your weight.“

@Isabella5Storm3
@-Shade-
@-Kiwi-
@Amer
@Lacy Duckwing

"Well, ma'am," Raven cocked his head slightly in mild surprise, "I promise, your decision to let me prove my worth will be most beneficial. But my initial question still stands, what needs to be done?" He absentmindedly scratched at his thumb. Now that he was staying, things just got easy.

 

[-Eridanus-]

Well, it's similar to poetry, in a way. By using the grammar in a way that may SEEM incorrect, you are creating an indirect mindset for your readers to pick up regarding your character, in a writing style that echoes some of the techniques of Doctor Suess, by creating words that can legally exist in a more free-minded and restraintless style. I love the mood it paints for me, and the character mind it is putting me into

ive never been compared to doctor suess before and now you made me very happy

 

[-Eridanus-]

also i was thinking if it would be okay could Lupin sign on with Vhanya? its okay if not

 

[-Shade-]

also i was thinking if it would be okay could Lupin sign on with Vhanya? its okay if not

I was actually thinking the exact same thing. Maybe Ember and Coal can recruit her in a little bit

 

[-Kiwi-]

“We can’t fix the past,” Alayna said coldly. Her fingernails pressed hard into the wooden fibers of the counter.
She didn’t meet Wilroc’s gaze.
“You can go scout. I’m going to pack. Feel free to tell any of the pack members I’m leaving here.” Her eyes flitted around the baking supplies surrounding her as she mentally started planning what she wanted to do first. She pushed a hand through her hair absently.

Will gave a single nod and headed for the door, resting comforting hand on Laynas shoulder as he walked past. He stood there for a moment, looking down at his boots. “See you tomorrow,” he said. He would come back.

He stepped outside, letting out a sigh that puffed into vapor in the evening chill. The streets were empty and mostly dark, only a few men heading to the pubs trailed by stray hounds, houses occasionally lit on the doorways by a kerosene lantern or two, a few determined moths bouncing off their glass. It was quiet and lonely.

Will started down the road north, towards the outside of town. Soon the cottages and shops fell away, replaced by towering oaks, their skeletal branches reaching forlornly to the sky. A few fireflies clinging to life in the mid autumn chill blinked and flickered between the ferns. It felt safer here.

The sense of security was an illusion, of course. The path soon all but dissappeared, Wilroc finding his way by landmarks. Eventually he came to a tiny moss encrusted cabin. Home.

He lived far away from people and preferred his solitude, listening to the ghostly singing of the wolves at night. A song that had slowly begun to dwindle over the years.

Will opened the door, stomping the dirt and leaves off of his boots and lighting the candles. There was only one room in the house, his disheveled bed crunched into a corner. He laid down right away, and only a few minutes went by before his eyes got heavy.... his vision went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`~~~~

Wilroc opened his eyes. A root-tangled soil roof loomed over his head, and as he inhaled, the scents, no, stories, laced and knit themselves together in his head, messages and warnings and poems dancing together in the air. He got to his paws and stretched, fluffy grizzled brown tail arcing over his back. Go time.

He stepped out of the den, breaking into an easy lope, his sensitive paws feeling every root and stone beneath his feet. His sharp ears caught every noise, the rustling of a mouse, a deer stripping bark from a tree.... gunshots in the distance. Will slowed, a growl rising in his throat. He could hear two men, laughing loudly and bantering.

Will slipped into the shadows, weaving his way closer. No.

It was the two men from earlier, rifles slung over their shoulders. The scent of rank alcohol permeated the air.

They were lazily making their way to a shape struggling in the leaves. A deer. A doe with terrified brown eyes kicked at the ground, blood oozing from a bullet wound in her abdomen. Will snarled, his ears flattening to his skull. Had they no sense of honor? Making a bad shot and not quickly giving the poor animal a quick, merciful death?

Cool it, big guy. He couldn't afford to be flying off into danger and putting everyone at risk. He watched as the shorter man, the one who had asked him if he hunted, aimed his gun, taking his sweet time, and let off the final shot with a deafening bang that made Will whine as the noise pierced his sensitive ears. The deer lay still, a circular bullet hole right behind her eye. Her lifeless eyes.

A pointless death. Hunting was necessary, yes, but this was a cruel and unnecessary death. It was simply for the sake of killing.

Will backed away, getting out of range before turning tail and running back to the Pack's den, flying over obstacles. They were taking prey and killing wolves. This had to stop.

(PARAGRAFFFSSSS)
@Blue Raptor

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

The night had swept by and Jintao had dozed. Terrors crept into his light sleep with each chanting death. "You fool!" the terrors said like he had heard his late captain say whenever he was displeased. "This will be your death. They will find you and they will kill you. Ha! Ha, ha, just think of those you killed and the look that was in their eyes before you took their last breath. That'll soon be you. Oh yes, that'll soon be you."
As imaginative soliders surrounded him and one positioned its bayonet to finish him, a male figure lurked in the shadows. He was average height with the average King's solider attire but with a worry in his hazel eyes that made him different. "Thrive," the man whispered. The soliders disappeared and cold iron bars took their place. The man wrapped his pale fingers around the bars and leaned his forehead against them. A tear rolled down his cheek. His concern was for Jintao's soul.
Jintao's gaze met with the familiar face. His breathing slowed and his muscles loosened. "'What are you going to do about it?'" His eyes lowered to the blood stained floor. The man reached into the cell and put his scarred hand on Jintao's shoulder. Jintao looked back up, but the man was gone. It was only a dream, yet somehow the visitor had calmed him.

With his fingers unknowingly clinching the dagger, Jintao rose to his feet and stretched. It was too dark to see what time it was, though his intuition knew it was morning. His mind recalled last evening's visitor and the conversation he had with her. Jintao's stomach notted. His fingers tightened until they hurt from the dagger's handle. Stupid idiot! He slammed the blade into the table, forgetting that Tay could have been laying across it. His fist dropped from the handle to table with a thud loud enough to threaten anyone close enough to hear it.

(Alright @_-Captain BRM-_ . I hope this is enough to get you started. Tay should wake from Jintao's last movement. If she feels threatened by what he just did and even confuses him with someone else because she was sleeping, I'm fine with that. )

 

[_-Captain BRM-_]

The night had swept by and Jintao had dozed. Terrors crept into his light sleep with each chanting death. "You fool!" the terrors said like he had heard his late captain say whenever he was displeased. "This will be your death. They will find you and they will kill you. Ha! Ha, ha, just think of those you killed and the look that was in their eyes before you took their last breath. That'll soon be you. Oh yes, that'll soon be you."
As imaginative soliders surrounded him and one positioned its bayonet to finish him, a male figure lurked in the shadows. He was average height with the average King's solider attire but with a worry in his hazel eyes that made him different. "Thrive," the man whispered. The soliders disappeared and cold iron bars took their place. The man wrapped his pale fingers around the bars and leaned his forehead against them. A tear rolled down his cheek. His concern was for Jintao's soul.
Jintao's gaze met with the familiar face. His breathing slowed and his muscles loosened. "'What are you going to do about it?'" His eyes lowered to the blood stained floor. The man reached into the cell and put his scarred hand on Jintao's shoulder. Jintao looked back up, but the man was gone. It was only a dream, yet somehow the visitor had calmed him.

With his fingers unknowingly clinching the dagger, Jintao rose to his feet and stretched. It was too dark to see what time it was, though his intuition knew it was morning. His mind recalled last evening's visitor and the conversation he had with her. Jintao's stomach notted. His fingers tightened until they hurt from the dagger's handle. Stupid idiot! He slammed the blade into the table, forgetting that Tay could have been laying across it. His fist dropped from the handle to table with a thud loud enough to threaten anyone close enough to hear it.

(Alright @_-Captain BRM-_ . I hope this is enough to get you started. Tay should wake from Jintao's last movement. If she feels threatened by what he just did and even confuses him with someone else because she was sleeping, I'm fine with that. )

Tay jerked back and her head slammed against the gouged ironwood booth. For a moment her numb gaze stared quite deeply into Jintao's eyes, the buzzing of her ears blinding most sensical thoughts.
Oh, the villainy of sleep. How she hated to have consciousness stolen. To be left vulnerable. Though however exploited she felt, the sense of health was undeniable. The sickly ache within her bones had vanished. The sense of mindful fulfillment had returned.
She found a sudden craving towards normalcy.
The lamp light danced as flames burned dim, casting a warm half-shadow over her companions face. He looked strange, bearing an expression of unpredictable emotion. Instinct told her to leave him be, human decency told her to ask him what the actual heck had caught him in such a riled mess.
Her shoulders slumped forwars and she slipped her frail elbows onto the table, resting her chin cooly in a cradled lace of fingers.
"What the devils was that."

 

[-Shade-]

Tay jerked back and her head slammed against the gouged ironwood booth. For a moment her numb gaze stared quite deeply into Jintao's eyes, the buzzing of her ears blinding most sensical thoughts.
Oh, the villainy of sleep. How she hated to have consciousness stolen. To be left vulnerable. Though however exploited she felt, the sense of health was undeniable. The sickly ache within her bones had vanished. The sense of mindful fulfillment had returned.
She found a sudden craving towards normalcy.
The lamp light danced as flames burned dim, casting a warm half-shadow over her companions face. He looked strange, bearing an expression of unpredictable emotion. Instinct told her to leave him be, human decency told her to ask him what the actual heck had caught him in such a riled mess.
Her shoulders slumped forwars and she slipped her frail elbows onto the table, resting her chin cooly in a cradled lace of fingers.
"What the devils was that."

(I love how casually she says it)

 

[Amer]

Ember released the rope, dropping from the main yard and beating her wings to land lightly on the black-furnished deck several strides behind the Captain. She paced forward quickly after Vhanya, sidestepping the Scorpion to stand off to the side as she addressed the rest of the crew.
Quartermistress- she liked the sound of that. This would provide both the control and the position she needed to ensure her mission succeeded, as well as spare her the indignity of being lower in rank than any weaker crewmate. Vhanya also seemed to be maintaining the haste as well- Ember could forgive delaying another 24 hours, so long as it was truly the best the ship and her captain could offer.
"Understood," she said firmly, her wings twitching once as she turned her gaze from Vhanya to the rest of the crew. Ember would have preferred scouting for recruits with Galen rather than any of the others. He was quieter, more reserved and attentive than the others were proving to be, and he wasn't brave enough to try anything stupid, like betrayal. He seemed like someone who could follow orders.
No amount of smooth talk or persuading would get her to take the hooded figure or the bedraggled Harpy- disasters just waiting to fall apart.
Ember didn't want anything to do with the Phoenix, and her only alternative was the other Harpy woman, whom she could already tell would be pure joy to work with.
She let out a quiet scoff, folding her arms as she glanced sharply around the crew, finally setting a cold stare on the Phoenix.
"You," she snapped, jabbing a clawed finger at the young man.
"You're coming with me. We leave now- move."
With that, Ember shot back into the air, taking off toward the crow's nest to retrieve her cloak.

@Amer
@-Kiwi-
@Isabella5Storm3
@Crestcrazy2
@Lacy Duckwing

(Of course the one time I’m not on byc and being productive that’s when I’m needed, lol)
“Understood!” Coal said cheerfully.
He tugged his cloak tighter about his shoulders and pulled the hood over his feathered ears. Unfortunately, it was none-too-convincing a disguise. His tightly folded wings were a big, bulky lump in the back of his cloak, dragging along the ground. Meanwhile, his frame was small and spare. Perhaps people would simply think him hunchbacked. Maybe if they were half blind and far from sober. Still, it wasn’t like the other harpies’ wings were less conspicuous.
And of course, it wasn’t in Coal’s nature to worry about being noticed. But if it was, his fears were sure to be unfounded.
Teenage boys in oversized hoodies, no matter how oddly lumpy they appeared, never merited a second glance.
Coal reached within the folds of his cloak and slipped on a couple of sleek black leather gloves.
He marched obediently down the gangplank and onto the shore, waiting for his sister and whoever else she chose to drag along to catch up.
And impatient creature though he was, Coal waited patiently. It was in his best interest not to be difficult.
If he didn’t seize every chance to thaw the frost queen that was his sister he might never get to. Long he had desired to become acquainted with her. And the opportunity had fallen into his lap. A pirating adventure, together! He hadn’t navigated it tactfully at first, that was true. He would just have to suck up for a while to make up for it.

im going to jump into the deep end now... here i go!

Lupin marched down boldly to the streets of Pirate's Cove, the dead rabbits over her shoulders bouncing unpleasantly. She'd hoped for a deer, but they were scarce lately. These rabbits would have to be enough. If the crews of ships that had recently returned spotted her with her food, she might as well be mobbed for a taste of fresh, savory meat. A tall clipper in the harbor caught her attention. Furled sails, dirty decks, high in the water; all signs of a newly home crew. She turned to a tavern, standing squat and humble on the docks. She poked her head inside for a glimpse of her potential customers and a brandy bottle flew across the room, smashing on the wall beside her head. Well. No thanks, I can get money elsewhere.

"Rude," she murmured, withdrawing her head. Perhaps she could find other Mythics, they were always friendly enough to her. Once, she had met a tall, clunky werewolf named Darthyn, who'd been kind to her until he drowned one day at the docks.

But now, she sold her game and lived alone, waiting for somebody new to poke their noses into her life. Usually, the pokers never stayed long, only wanting a rabbit or deer-antler charm before they poke-poked away to talk to someone else.

Pokers, she grumbled, hoping very badly that she would meet another poker as she turned the corner. No. But that's okay. Right? It's not creepy to live alone in a cabin in the woods, selling dead bloody things for a living, never meeting anybody new, and practicing my conversation skills on squirrels (typically dead).

Yeah, she admitted to herself, just like she did every day. I need more friendish people. Then she turned around and began crying out, "Raaaaaabits! Raaaaabits!", just like every day.

She walked the same streets, selling nothing except a rabbit-foot lucky charm to a superstitious old hag.

She thought the same thoughts, thinking the same thinks, pondering the same unsolvable ponders.

She dropped a dead rabbit in the water for the somethings that lived under the docks. She never peeked at the somethings, even though she was very sure they were krakens or such like.

Two harpies walked past her, discussing something heatedly. She called "Rabbits!" hopefully, although she got no reaction.

Friendish people were hard to come by. People were typically not friendish, they were drunkards and thieves and far too rude for her taste. Pirates were unfathomable, soldiers were cruel, villagers were suspicious, rabbits were delicious, and Mythics were solitary. Usually. Some rabbits were rather stringy.

(I love your writing style!)