Dreams of a self-exile (Closed/Kendall)

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role play forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Herein lies the realm of dreams, where dreamers who are scattered all over the world in the physical can come together in the mysterious world of dreams. Remember, unless one is a Dreamwalker, there is no control over dreams. Ever. Anything can happen, and by threading a dream, you are subject to whomever can walk dreams and the whims of Storytellers.

Dreams of a self-exile (Closed/Kendall)

Postby Naama on November 1st, 2011, 10:01 pm

Image
Timestamp: 15th of Fall 511AV

The sky was green. Odd. The water that lapped at the sides of the large ship she stood on was tinged with all the colors of the rainbow, from reds to yellows to violets and blues. It shimmered towards the horizon in a dazzling display, but she doubted it tasted as good as it looked. Her ebony eyes glanced all around her. There was a vacancy that should have been disturbing, but Naama didn't particularly seem bothered at all. There as no land in sight, no bodies aboard the ship save herself and the creaking of the deck and the swaying of the hull.

She stood out among the rim until the rumble in her belly urged her to go scouring through the lower decks for any signs of rum or ale.

"It has to be here somewhere. It's a ship. Ships always have ale." She spoke, but no one stood to listen. Naama rummaged through barrels and empty sacks, until she found a tankard conveniently placed on one of the wooden tables, but as she tipped it upside down only sand fell and scattered across the ground.

"That's a cruel cruel trick to play," She exclaimed to no one in particular. She looked for more, but every barrel that should have contained liquor held only sand.

"That's just my luck. No rum and no one to complain to about no rum." Something moved out of the corner of her eye, a shadow of a child amongst the overturned tables and barrels. Naama groped behind her, but found no swords where they should have been. Instead she was garbed in the attire of her mother; all dried pelts, bones and crude jewelry. She was tattoo-less, as well, almost as if her entire appearance had altered itself to a time when she was not the pirate slattern she was today.

"Come back here you little rum filcher," Naama growled, chasing the shadow all throughout the ship to no avail. Too quick, and her, surprisingly sluggish.
Image
Last edited by Naama on November 2nd, 2011, 6:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Naama
Chunki Faguta
 
Posts: 395
Words: 130159
Joined roleplay: February 13th, 2011, 2:53 am
Race: Mixed blood
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 3
Featured Thread (1) Artist (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1)

Dreams of a self-exile (Kendall)

Postby Kendall Saarinen on November 1st, 2011, 10:33 pm

Kendall found himself on a boat. Strangely, a place he had never been. Even though he had grown up in Zeltiva, he was surprised to notice he had never set foot on a vessel. Some Zeltivan he was…

As he walked around below the deck he decided to head upwards to the fresh air. Why waste his first time on a boat underneath the deck where he could not see the sky?

Making it to the deck, he breathed in the sea air with a smile. He missed the smell of the saltwater. It always clung to the breezes in Zeltiva. When he looked to the sky the smile quickly faded as he took in the sickly color of the clouds. Kendall was no sailor but he had lived with two as his brothers. He knew the signs of the sky, at least on a basic level.

The green sky shouldn't have been the first thing he worried about though. He was on some strange ship and clearly, he was not the captain. Whoever owned the ship would be angry to see some stowaway on their boat. He needed to find the captain before they found him. At least then he could explain his situation. The situation of him have no idea why he was on the ship in the first place.

Before him he saw a woman who seemed to be dressed in no way like an owner of a ship. She seemed to be calling out for someone, although Kendall did not see anyone else but her on the ship. "Excuse me, are you looking for someone?" He was worried this might have been a horrible time to call out to the woman. She seemed somewhat angered. It was better than her being surprised at a strange man on her ship. "Do you know where we are?" He doubted she did. She looked as though she belonged in the jungles, not a ship.
"I'm burning and I'm blacking my lungs.
Boy you know it feels good with fire back on your tongue."
-Ryan Ross

.
User avatar
Kendall Saarinen
Like John Allerdyce but hotter
 
Posts: 890
Words: 595666
Joined roleplay: November 6th, 2010, 1:04 am
Location: Northern Reaches/Avanthal
Blog: View Blog (1)
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Medals: 1
Trailblazer (1)

Dreams of a self-exile (Closed/Kendall)

Postby Naama on November 6th, 2011, 8:35 pm

Image
The ship had lied. A filthy filthy lie. There were two strangers aboard this ship, as the voice of the boy and the shadow of the agile child would attest to.

She glanced up from her rummaging, a frown on her lips. "You were here this entire time and you weren't looking? What's wrong with you, lad!" Naama spoke to him as though she'd known him her entire life. Just a long lost relative who happened to share no blood nor appearance at all. Trifling details when rum was at stake.

"There's a cruel scallywag aboard this ship stealing away all the rum, you see, and I just can't have that. It's not right. You're disturbing the very balance of the world by denying a sailor their hard-earned liquor." She approached him, eyeing his mismatched eyes, blond hair and youthful face. "Are you some knave sent by the captain? I'd like a word with that fool--There it is again! Oh, look, and it has the rum too."

Naama pointed toward the darting shadows descending the stairs almost as smoothly as running water. She gripped Kendall's wrist, pulling him towards the pit of darkness that lead into the lower decks, except once they descended further, the light was quickly swallowed whole. From the inky black atmosphere they emerged into a land of green. Shades of olive and emerald and veridian, with dangling foliage and hanging vines.

"Hmm, perhaps we took a wrong turn."

A sonorous hissing echoed off the sloping trees; an unnerving sound to the pirate. She stepped closer to Kendall, groping the invisible weapons she should have had on her at all times. "We should leave." The half-breed proclaimed, "I dislike... snakes."

As if the word had the power to conjure, a long, enormous serpent slithered effortlessly out of a tumble of shrubs and shadows. It's scales were as pale as the milky moon, and it's eyes were burning rubies. "No." The word was but a whisper, but the fear was like a dagger through her heart. The serpent paused across the clearing they stood in, it's large head raised to greet them in the eye.

A little Myrian and a little boy, mmm such tasty morsels, and I'm so very very hungry.

The snake hissed a laughter, it's voice audible to both of them without the use of it's lips.
Image
User avatar
Naama
Chunki Faguta
 
Posts: 395
Words: 130159
Joined roleplay: February 13th, 2011, 2:53 am
Race: Mixed blood
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 3
Featured Thread (1) Artist (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1)


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests