Post by James Silverstein on Jan 27, 2014 19:41:24 GMT -5
"Hey, since we've established ourselves here and we thought of making a crew. I have some questions to dish out towards you. Firstly, what will the crew be named? Secondly, what will the crew's jolly-roger be? And lastly, will we have a goal that we will all share?"
James was surprised that Raijin was still able to speak of such trivial matters at a time like this.
“Let’s hold off on that till we get safely to the boat, I’m pretty sure that I’m in danger of collapsing any second now.” He said.
They walked through the town, James still trying to look like the intimidating pirate he’d been in the throne room. It wasn’t working as well now. His entire body felt as if it was made of lead. His throat was completely dry from the heat of Hidaka’s mine, and of course his side wound burned like fire. Something trickled down over his eye. Touching the liquid, he pulled back momentarily when he saw it was blood.
“That’s right,” he thought “One of the bastards dinged me with a shovel.”
Try as he might, James was finding it harder and harder to stay focused. Grabbing a long draught of water from the well provided some relief, but not much. What he needed was to lay down, before he fell.
Once they were safely on the boat, James did just that. He hit the deck hard, and had to struggle to roll over. There was simply no strength left in his limbs.
“Sweet mother of God.” He spoke softly, slowly peeling off his jacket. It was a rare occurrence, but his wound necessitated it. James’s side was burning an angry red, the glue forming little bubbly lines on the gash. Suddenly, he screamed. The wound tore open again, ripping through his makeshift bandage of glue. Emma awoke, finally, from her long nap. It was amazing what would, and would not, wake her up. She scurried down to his wound, and licked it, as if trying to help clean.
“Marcoh!” He said, hurriedly. “Your parents owned a clinic, can you do anything.”
“There’s a reason I’m your navigator, not your doctor, but I’ll see what I can do.”
James breathed a sigh of relief, and eyed Raijin. The man had amazing pain tolerance compared to James. They would work on him next, but at the moment it was necessary to stop James’s loss of blood. Marcoh returned, carrying a flask and some strips of cloth. For some reason he also had a bullet. The logic behind it soon became clear.
“Here bite this,” Marcoh said, handing him the slug. James did so, and immedidately understood why when his “doctor” tossed a large swig of rum on the wound. The pain was almost worse than the actual hit itself, but it would act to disinfect the injury. As the injury was being wrapped, James heard the king’s men approaching.
“Shit!” With all the strength he could muster, James pulled himself up into a chair. “Raijin, cover for me. I can’t hold… DAMN IT!” he said as another round of pain hit him. “A conversation like this, just tell them I’m sleeping.” He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Appearances were everything.
James was surprised that Raijin was still able to speak of such trivial matters at a time like this.
“Let’s hold off on that till we get safely to the boat, I’m pretty sure that I’m in danger of collapsing any second now.” He said.
They walked through the town, James still trying to look like the intimidating pirate he’d been in the throne room. It wasn’t working as well now. His entire body felt as if it was made of lead. His throat was completely dry from the heat of Hidaka’s mine, and of course his side wound burned like fire. Something trickled down over his eye. Touching the liquid, he pulled back momentarily when he saw it was blood.
“That’s right,” he thought “One of the bastards dinged me with a shovel.”
Try as he might, James was finding it harder and harder to stay focused. Grabbing a long draught of water from the well provided some relief, but not much. What he needed was to lay down, before he fell.
Once they were safely on the boat, James did just that. He hit the deck hard, and had to struggle to roll over. There was simply no strength left in his limbs.
“Sweet mother of God.” He spoke softly, slowly peeling off his jacket. It was a rare occurrence, but his wound necessitated it. James’s side was burning an angry red, the glue forming little bubbly lines on the gash. Suddenly, he screamed. The wound tore open again, ripping through his makeshift bandage of glue. Emma awoke, finally, from her long nap. It was amazing what would, and would not, wake her up. She scurried down to his wound, and licked it, as if trying to help clean.
“Marcoh!” He said, hurriedly. “Your parents owned a clinic, can you do anything.”
“There’s a reason I’m your navigator, not your doctor, but I’ll see what I can do.”
James breathed a sigh of relief, and eyed Raijin. The man had amazing pain tolerance compared to James. They would work on him next, but at the moment it was necessary to stop James’s loss of blood. Marcoh returned, carrying a flask and some strips of cloth. For some reason he also had a bullet. The logic behind it soon became clear.
“Here bite this,” Marcoh said, handing him the slug. James did so, and immedidately understood why when his “doctor” tossed a large swig of rum on the wound. The pain was almost worse than the actual hit itself, but it would act to disinfect the injury. As the injury was being wrapped, James heard the king’s men approaching.
“Shit!” With all the strength he could muster, James pulled himself up into a chair. “Raijin, cover for me. I can’t hold… DAMN IT!” he said as another round of pain hit him. “A conversation like this, just tell them I’m sleeping.” He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Appearances were everything.