Jump to content


  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Mousia

  1. No one knows yet. They're new. Better get them CB (cave born) while you can, because today's the only day you can get them without getting them as a gift or in the AP next Halloween.
  2. Remind me who Aiden is again, please. My memory's either spotty or...
  3. There's generally not an intended pattern like that. It seems a little bit like a coincidence. Also...got a zombie on my first attempt (though the dragons avoided my attack several times). Checking that off my list...
  4. (Guys, if you could not double post and also include a little RP in your posts, that'd be awesome. I understand that you guys are just letting each other know stuff, but it's really preferred and if you used the designated OCC thread for that. Thanks.)
  5. Abe drifted from Garrett over the course of a few minutes and spied Robb knotting out of the corner of her eye and approached. "Ahoy. Are you busy? I can help you tie knots if you help me check cannons. They're probably already clean, but since our lives all kind of depend on them, a quick check wouldn't hurt, right?" She found a loose rope and began to knot it, shaking her head bitterly. "I know what it's like, you know. You stand there and you look out at the ocean and want to get away from whoever's causing you trouble. You just look at the ocean and you do your chores and you bustle like a cow. And you think about what you want to be, what you want to do. When you finally get there, that one thing becomes you. It takes control of your very soul." She finished one knot and moved onto another. "I was a kid like you once, not too long ago, but at least you're a cabin boy. I was a slave. You have your freedom. Once this ship lands, you can leave her. All you need to do is decide where to go. Yet...in your freedom, you still feel trapped. You know no other life than this. So you decide to stay..." The woman chuckled and moved onto another. "But look at me, mumbling and grumbling like an old lady. You're young. Make your choices, do what you want. Repent and curse about it later. That is the way."
  6. Lyra was slightly conscious of the events going on around her, though it was hazy. Ronon's voice echoed loudly in her ears and she willed him to shut his mouth, but her body didn't want to move, didn't want to flinch away. She was still and helpless. In those moments, though, it felt almost like it did in the black... She almost felt as if she was floating on air. In her mind, she could see herself from someone else's eyes. But at the seconds scraped by, she felt herself growing impatient. "Hello?" Yet her lips could not move. Would not move. She was as silent as space, yet just as unbearably loud. When alone with her own thoughts, it was as if she was going mad. And perhaps she was. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't see. All she could hear were muffled noises that sounds vaguely like the people she knew. And, God, the pain. "聽我說。我需要知道我還活著。" The only thing that outweighed that pain was the crushing sensation that she was burning in hell, or even trapped in limbo. Hearing and seeing and feeling all the pain that she was due. "Save me!" And her lips only quivered... (聽我說。我需要知道我還活著。(Tīng wǒ shuō. Wǒ xūyào zhīdào wǒ hái huózhe.) - Hear me. I need to know I'm still alive.)
  7. (Skipping to the landing. ) The landing jarred some. Lyra'd had passengers before who'd puked all over the floor and so she learned to go around with a bucket shortly before landing, collecting all the people with a history of that sort of thing and those who felt the nausea early. She ran around shouting for those with nausea, but either no one responded or she just moved too fast to hear them. When they finally touched down and she stood in front of the door. When they had reached the ground, she shouted. "I'm gonna go out to check if it's safe stay inside until I give the okay. Close the door if anyone strange approaches." That was her standard warning upon most landings on dangerous planets or moons. Most people took it lightly. So did Lyra. Exiting the ship, the captain realized she still had that stupid bucket in her hand. Oh well. She could do a quickdraw still, right? No. Though her gun was holstered on her hip and loaded, she would no be expecting that enemy... "Lyra Benjamin, in the flesh. I've been looking for you... All these years and you haven't changed a bit. Still that same angst and anger on your face." The voice was deep and rich and the same one that narrated her nightmares. "Rob...?" The woman's voice came out in a mangled whisper. "That's exactly right." Shrinking away from the man who appear before her, she looked around. They were beside the ship, not very close to the door. No one could see them. No one would there to help her as she stood, rooted to her spot. "Don't worry. I'm not here to kill you. I only have one bullet. I'll shoot, and if you don't get shot, you shoot me. Fair?" Lyra nodded shakily. It seemed surreal. The shot was fired and she raised her bucket up it front of her. Lo and behold, it worked. The bullet was deflected. "I win then!" the woman half-shouted excitedly. But the gun was still pointed at her. As the shot went off, his words echoed, loud and strong. "You trust too much, Miss Benjamin. Learn to read my bluffs." And when the bullet ground itself into her chest, her hand immediately flew up to cover her wound before she fell. The pain from the shot was already unbearable, but the jerk from hitting the ground as she fell aggravated her pain even more. That was all she could feel. All she could see. All she could hear. And as she closed her eyes, all she could think was that she hadn't told the crew to close the door... Rob, after shooting Lyra, vanished like a ghost, not to be seen by any of the crew. Her shooter had gotten away with it...
  8. http://forums.dragcave.net/index.php?showtopic=100158 Please go to the thread linked above for questions in the future. But, to answer your question, you must post all RPs in either unapproved to be checked or freeform. Unapproved is quite slow right now, so if you're not fond of waiting, freeform is for you!
  9. (You keep switching from outside to inside his workspace...)
  10. "I saw it through cast-iron bars and it wasn't so beautiful. The sea gives people like you the illusion of freedom, while I know that it is a great constrictor. There's not way to escape this ship once's it's far enough away from port." She looked up wistfully and sighed. "If you want to go up and watch the sky with me, you can try to get me to see it from your perspective." (Short because I don't have time...)
  11. (Looks fine.) Abe let go and sighed, exasperated. "I know. I'm sorry..." She shook and head and put it down on the work surface, not caring that Garrett was in the middle of something. "I just get so angry and I have nothing left to do with myself. What could I do? I'm too attached to leave the ship, but this life is so bleak... Sometimes I think to jump overboard. Or to just end it with my flintlock..." She chuckled softly, sounding empty. "But then I think of people like you. So happy and innocent. And I push on because I want to see where life takes you." She paused for a bit, picking her head up and sniffling, as if she didn't want him to see her so weak. Giggling again (although it was forced), she looked up to stop the tears from falling out after being so long held back. "I never believed you were slow. In fact, I think you're the most sane of the lot of us. Look at us. Ceto slept with that Castiel, old enough to be her father. Poppy practically whoring herself to get friends, Duncan in love with water, even though it's fruitless and stupid. But here you are, working and doing what you need to do, not distracted by pain or loss or suffering or selfishness. It's so simple, but they ridicule you because you are the best of us..."
  12. "As far as I know, there ain't no bard. We've got lots'a sailors to tell stories, 's all we need. We've got mostly Frenchies, Italians, and Englishmen, but we've got you now and also a lady Scot. Broad range of places to tell stories. And...there's a German lady, I think. Never do pay much attention is I can't tell by the accent." He looked around and chuckled. "You're new here, so I can understand the excitement, but after we set sail, we're practically starving and just praying not to die of scurvy. It's a hard life and we're barely turnin' a profit. Just to be frank." "No. They're not all the same. Callouses on your skin help you not to get hurt again. But the ones on your heart are a constant reminder that you've failed. That you're not fit to love like everyone else. A broken heart has cracks for love and caring to get through, but a calloused one is hard. No one goes in or out. Why do you think I look after those damn cannons so fondly? It's all I have left. All I have that won't hurt me. All I can chose to do. I went from slavery to servitude. Can't tell if it's better or worse. Do you understand? I can't even love a child for the childs' sake." Her voice grew more and more pitiful by the second. "They call me Abe because the only way I could survive as a woman pirate was to go by a man's name. I'm Abigail, God damnit! Abigail the broken girl who cried when nobody could hear her because feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all." She grabbed him by the chin forcefully and turned his head to face her. "Look at me. I'm coming apart at the seams. And you've the nerve to say that callouses are all the same."
  13. "Ah, I'm no good. I can read their bluffs and tell ya how to bet well in this game, but gamblin' ain't for me. Not on cards, y'know? On people...all the time. That's why I have enough money to be a decent philanthropist." Taking a seat on an old crate, he looked at everyone's eyes. The reflections in them showed more than most would care to reveal. Standing up, he grabbed a nearly empty glass bottle with a bit of rum in it (part of his ration from the voyage to Italy) and took a short swig, using the glass as a magnifier to see everyone's cards. Not that he'd use the information. Just seeing if his tactic worked as well as it had years ago. He was maybe fifteen when he gambled often and found out the glass magnified. Oh, what a cheater he was! "'sides, it's good for you to figure out who's a liar and who's not. Know where ya stand." Abe chuckled slightly. "I only clean the guns as often as necessary. With a bunch of gunners as feeble as mine, it's necessary to be sure that they don't crack and rot from misuse. I'm sure you would feel the same if I banged your tools all around the ship and returned them dented. You want to take care of them, don't you?" She shrugged, looking around. Finally, the woman turned to face Garrett's work, watching him as he worked from a bit of a distance. Approaching cautiously, she touched his fingers, surprisingly gentle. "When you work with wood, your hands are calloused. When you are a slave, your heart is calloused. Yet my hands are relatively soft and so is your heart." Withdrawing slightly, she sighed and looked at nothing in particular. "What I wouldn't give to trade callouses with you..."
  14. Duncan wandered the lower decks of the ship aimlessly. The ship was docked and he had nothing to do, really. He was done with his chores and had nothing to write about in his journal. Spotting a few familiar faces and a new one playing Faro, he ambled up to them and prodded the new man. He had blazing red hair. And the way he spoke... Irishmen. "Aye! You're the new navigator, right? M'name's Duncan Foster, sailor board this very ship for most o' m' life. You've got a question 'bout the way she works, I could answer it. Now, I know th' Irish an' th' English don't get on too well, but we're both crew here, so I'll be amiable if you are." Extending a hand to shake, he felt the gold piece cold on his palm. The man intended to hand it off during the shake as a truce gesture. He'd no such luck with Abe, the resident Scot, so the least he could do would be to establish a good relationship with the Irishman as soon as possible. Bad blood between the lot o' them would be easy to stir up.
  15. Aelia chuckled and grinned at Casio's insult, well used to that sort of thing. "When you next come to Rome, send us word. We are very well connected and can make this town or break it. Smooth sailing, my friends!" Skipping away after Casio, she punched his arm lightly, giggling. "Non c'era bisogno di prendere in giro così!" she exclained jokingly. Her steps were long and graceful and her face was dark and foreboding, as always - a smile made her look of, almost as if it didn't belong on her long, beautifully sorrowful visage - yet had a very small piece of sun in it. As if Casio's happiness had infected her - corrupted her unending sadness. (Non c'era bisogno di prendere in giro così! = You didn't have to make fun of me like that!) Abe watched from the deck, grinning as the duo left them. "Opposites always seem to make good couples," she remarked to herself. Lumbering down the steps to the lower decks, the dreadlocked woman entered Garrett's working quarters, but found them vacant. "New tools? He has gotten lucky today..." Climbing back up the stairs, she found him there and approached with her usual empty look about her, eyes absent, mind wandering, elvish smile mocking all those without the pleasure to see her thoughts. Namely, most everyone. "Gary. I see that you have gotten new tools today. Courtesy of a good negotiator? We're not rich enough for these unless someone's a sweet talker."
  16. (Mhm. Sure. Does anyone else have interactions they wish to finish before skipping?)
  17. Aelia rolled her eyes at Casio's dawdling. "His name is Casio Portabello. Yes, we have confirmed his mushroom heritage. Please don't bring it up. He's quite sensitive, because he is really descended from the Shiitakes." She could barely hold back her laughter. "But his name really is Casio Portabello and he really is a full-time idiot." If he hadn't gotten so much favor in Ebizio's eyes, he would be little more than scum. But, deep down, Aelia knew why Casio was a master. She and Ebizio had been close... Quite so. And the woman knew much of what Ebizio had been thinking in the years before his death. She was much younger then, but it was still ground into her memory, her very consciousness. Yes. Ebizio had left a much larger mark on the assassins than he'd imagined.
  18. After answering all her waves with a notice that she had already found a captain and that no one else's services were needed. No 'thank you's were exchanged. She was a simple woman, no time for embellishing her rejections with politeness. It gave the same message. In her bunk, Lyra sighed and picked up her darts, continuing her game from before. It was a boring game to some, but it helped her train her eye so she wouldn't get soft and lazy. It was imperative that she could protect her passengers if it ever became a necessity. (Do any of y'all wanna just go ahead and skip to their landing on Lilac?)
  19. Aelia smiled and shook Cullen's hand. "Aelia Cato. From Italy. Welcome to Rome! This city will be kind to you if you stay away from the idiots and the virgin heiresses, if you ever return to stay a longer time." Retreating, she turned to Casio and whispered in his ear with a sweet caress. "If you ever, and I mean ever, scream out that someone has red hair like a maniac and smear our Creed's name, I swear I will cut off all sorts of appendages. I won't feel bad. And you'll bleed out, knowing that I take honor very seriously and I'd rather save face by killing you than have to repair all the things you've broken with moronic mistakes." Recoiling slightly, she smiled again, looking in between the two pirates. "Now, we've got a few maps of where the Pieces are to hand over, because you'd need a ship to get to them."
  20. It's up. Everything is up to date as of right now. Let me know if there's anything more I can do.
  21. Cut him some slack, probably forgot to edit that part out.