[Flashback] To Take a Goat by the Horns

In which Pash defends his position as navigator to an angry crew.

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An inland sea created by Ivak's cataclismic fury during the Valterrian, the Suvan Sea is a major trade route and the foremost hub for piracy in Mizahar. [lore]

[Flashback] To Take a Goat by the Horns

Postby Pash'nar on May 16th, 2012, 2:11 am

Timestamp: 48 Summer, 468AV
Location: Somewhere in the Suvan Sea

The ship heaved and the dark wood of the deck rose to meet him—SMACK—smashing his face as the blow left his ears ringing and ribs protesting the small, bony fist that had punched into them.

"Get back up, ya lyin' petch." Spat the wiry first mate, a skinny, hawk-nosed bastard with a whole season's worth of cargo lodged up his arse. He glared at the Svefra bleeding on his captain's deck in the golden light of the summer afternoon, the inked quiet thing that claimed to know how to navigate and instead got them petching stuck in the doldrums, "Get up."

Pash'nar ran his tongue behind his teeth with a hiss, the metallic taste of his own blood cloying at his senses. He eyed the horizon with a smirk instead of immediately getting up, enjoying the smaller man's annoyed whining. A bead of sweat interrupted his vision and he finally forced himself to stand, calloused hands clenching into loose fists of his own,

"Stop flapping' that half-empty bone box'o'yours. Ain't my fault y'fancy yourself a navigator an'a arse-kisser."
The false Svefra purred a taunt of his own, knowing full well the other man read the wind the evening before, not him. Always wanting to make some useless impression on the cap'n, that one. Obviously, he was making up for some things—or lack of things, "Did'ja learn how t'use them lips from your ma, Vaern?"

The idle crew standing by laughed at this, breaking their interested silence at their first mate's expense. The running joke behind his back usually included a prostitute in his lineage, if only because he preferred to spend entirely too much of his time on land among them.

Vaern didn't even bother to stutter a response, simply leaping at the tattooed navigator with a feral sort of snarl, arms braced forward in hopes of knocking the other man back down to the deck. Pash took the man's charge full in the chest, but only staggered a few steps backward instead of falling over, the roll of the waves actually acting in his favor for the moment. Air left his lungs involuntarily with a hiss of pain, however, leaving him stinging, but now he had the rotten little vagik close enough. He smashed his own fists into the soft places below the smaller man's own ribs before taking a few more steps back, letting the ship's tilt direct him as he raised his calloused hands defensively.

Leather vambraces gleaming in the coming sunset, Pash spit blood at the feet of his wheezing opponent, though he was curious if he could draw the man along until sunset. The rest of the crew watched from their various stations as their galley idled without wind, though the captain was unaware while in his quarters that being stuck had escalated into such a conflict over who was at fault.

"You should leave the navigatin' to th'ones getting' paid for't. Next time you wanna make a good impression on the cap'n, don't." The tattooed sailor taunted, realizing that making Vaern mad generally made him more stupid.
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Pash'nar
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