-The Mythics RP-

(Why'd I read that as knock down the door? 😭 )
(Because you're secretly Dyslexic like me. 🤣
Just kidding. I read your post and looked at your quote to see if I misspelled anything and I read it the same way. I said "come down" but I can see why the word "down" just landed somewhere else in the sentence.)
 
(Because you're secretly Dyslexic like me. 🤣
Just kidding. I read your post and looked at your quote to see if I misspelled anything and I read it the same way. I said "come down" but I can see why the word "down" just landed somewhere else in the sentence.)
(I'm probably just overdue for an eye test and prescription update 😭 )
(No, as Clouds said, he’s going to yell ā€œFBI. OPEN UP!ā€ and bust down the door with a ram. Obviously.)
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"Thank you, Ember." She moved toward the near, empty cot and slowly unpinned her arm. Her wrist would grow stiff by morning.
The cot swung as she settled in, hiding her eyes beneath the crook of her good elbow. She crossed her feet- devils, they were swollen, too- and pushed her bad hand too her chest.
Her legs hurt.
Tay swallowed, relaxing the tension in her hot face.
The morning would not bid her joy.
(This’ll be quick so we can jump to morning.)

Save for the gentle lapping of water against the hull, and the shouts of bar-goers from the Cove, the ā€˜Silverā€˜s weatherdeck was silent in the moonlight.
As Cyrus descended to the officer’s cabins, the sound of a fiddle drifted up through the ship, accompanied by a distant crewmate’s baritone and his fellows singing with him.
That was one thing constant between Navy and pirate ships— if a man could fiddle, his presence would be twice as welcome aboard.
Cyrus neared his own cabin, pressing open the door to seek his medicine chest. The room was empty, the first mate absent. He frowned, but sense told him that the man wouldn’t stay out of sight much longer.
He stepped to the chest by his bunk, and with a soft click of the well-worn latch and a faint jingle of various vials, he had gathered a small bottle of iodine, bandages, and rags, arranging them neatly into his spare leather bag.
Then, with the chest closed, supplies returned to their previous order, and cabin door shut, Cyrus walked with medicines in tow to the opposing officer’s cabin.
He knocked at the paneled door, speaking quietly, ā€œMiss Lyra? I’ve come to see to your wrist.ā€
 
Coal's boredom began to drift away as the sound of sea shanties floated up to the crow's nest. He pressed himself up to the wall, peering down at the singing sailors below. As soon as the chorus began, he was singing right along. His tenor voice was a bit thin, but he more than compensated with his enthusiasm.
"A life on the ocean wave, a-home on the rolling deep

Where the scattered waters rave and the winds their revels keep

The winds - the winds - the winds their revels - keep

The winds - the winds - the winds their revels - keep!" https://www.sailorsongs.com/a_life_on_the_ocean_wave.html
He pumped a fist in the air.
 
Coal's boredom began to drift away as the sound of sea shanties floated up to the crow's nest. He pressed himself up to the wall, peering down at the singing sailors below. As soon as the chorus began, he was singing right along. His tenor voice was a bit thin, but he more than compensated with his enthusiasm.
"A life on the ocean wave, a-home on the rolling deep

Where the scattered waters rave and the winds their revels keep

The winds - the winds - the winds their revels - keep

The winds - the winds - the winds their revels - keep!" https://www.sailorsongs.com/a_life_on_the_ocean_wave.html
He pumped a fist in the air.
(This is actually quite beautiful)
 
The Honorable Fitzpatrick Pinchbeck to his adoptive mother, the Countess Lydia Pinchbeck
August, 1754

Dear mother,
I pray this letter finds you well, and in good spirits. I cannot say the same of myself— once you have this parchment in your grasp I am without doubt that I will be already aboard a ship of His Majesty’s.
We shall blame father for being quite exemplary in his manners, otherwise I would not be so inclined as to model him and appoint myself to such a task of charity.
We sail for Undermine —I am loath to say it, but I will not share the route we take as to respect the sensitivity of our mission. I know you will understand, it is not my safety alone, but yours as well— under a respectable captain and crew. Concerning the weather, the captain assured me it will be smooth going for the entirety of the journey.
As I write this I suffer a headache of the most bothersome dimension. I suspect my distaste for ocean travel is the cause— ships are not meant for hooves, I have told you so before and will not cease to do so. You must be kind and allow me some minor complaints.
Your letter describing Lady Dolby’s garden party was deeply captivating, did her son really become a Rebel? I hope you spoke well of me to that society. Though I know they still cannot abide a Satyr.
My sash is almost in need of repair again, your handiwork is unmatched, there is no trace of the mend, but I fear that my time on the seas might put far too much wear upon it. You will show me how to mend it once I return, it will be time well spent.

Send Father my regards.
Your company is missed most dreadfully,
Fitz
 

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