-The Mythics RP-

[Isabella7Storm5]

(I have no id-)

(We can all just assume he went and did it cuz at this point I’m terrified of doing something wrong…and I have no idea where Raven went or what he’s doing but I’m sure it’s productive)

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

(Uh…how does one help people get a ship ready to sail…?)

(Um, organize the rations... check the sails ensuring they're good to sail, fasten any lose items that might move once at sea, ensure there's enough supplies to make the trip, check the anchor and mooring lines, ensure all the canons are fastened and up to par and plenty of ammo, etc, etc.)

 

[-Shade-]

(Um, organize the rations

 

[Isabella7Storm5]

 

[Somewhere_In_The_Clouds]

(Firstly thank you, secondly and more important GET THOSE DELUSIONAL WORDS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH
Both of you are so, so excellent at cutting strong, distinct characters. Even if it’s just a standard fifty-word RP post, you really capture voices and thought processes in a way I can’t wrap my brain around)

 

[-Shade-]

(It's like an infection- all of our OCs will inevitably be doomed to organize the rations)

 

[RDchicken99]

A merry shout from the crow's nest from a voice raw with the sea. "We've good wind, Cap'n!"
Cyrus craned his neck, drank in the words. Words better than any rum. Took a knife to his senses, in the same way.
And Vin quirked her head with that little gleam to her predatory eye. She looked enough like her grandfather. The eyes flicked to Cyrus. "Shall you do us the honors?"
"Of course, lass, if you'll gather the men."
And she slipped away to the forecastle, taking her poison with her. He took in a breath, felt the prayer book in his coat pocket press against his swelling ribs.
He'd done things he was ashamed of. Things he was nearly proud of, too.
This, he couldn't classify.
Back aboard a pirate ship, and not that of his own. The Meredith was kept under his hand, how Vin ran her grandfather's he'd yet to know. He trusted her as he only could. But it was a trust bestowed to him from his friend. From her predecessor. A trust instilled with a promise-- a promise to keep the girl safe, and shoot down her high horse as needed.
He straightened his coat. Plain and brown, no golden buttons. A sideways glance was cast to her crew with his voice raised, "If you'll spare your attention for but a moment."
From the fore, Vhanya clapped her hands, once, crisply. It carried through the morning hum. And then she shouted for them all, in that low voice of hers, with her Aqra hiss beneath it, "Men! We're to sail in a quarter 'til. I'm certain you understand all of what that implies, yes? I expect the best efficiency you can manage, or I'll ensure your souls' damnation myself."
She doffed her hat, pressed it to her bosom, "You'll gather anyone belowdecks as you're able, for Mister Bailey here is to ensure our safety as he so kindly does."
Should a navy keeping be passed to a ship of thieves? Murderers? They held their superstitions sacred. Their bottles, their women. But there was some notion of divinity in it all.

@Isabella7Storm5
@Lacy Duckwing
@-Shade-
@Amer

 

[Isabella7Storm5]

(It's like an infection- all of our OCs will inevitably be doomed to organize the rations)

Ummm
I’ve not seen any of YOURS have toflnbfkjwnfnmdmcleanbrjdyhebrraitonsbskfjskjd

 

[-Shade-]

Ummm
I’ve not seen any of YOURS have toflnbfkjwnfnmdmcleanbrjdyhebrraitonsbskfjskjd

(They'll likely be the last to fall)

 

[Isabella7Storm5]

(They'll likely be the last to fall)

(It is now my LIFES mission…)