Post by Phantasma on Jan 16, 2019 20:34:26 GMT -5
The Galleon that had been parked over at Inlet grove was like a sparkling gem compared to the quiet town. Its wood sparkled in day or night, heavy varnishing and a constant upkeep of cleaning insured the darkened deck boards glistened but also provided excellent traction for the feet. Pleasant colors decorated the sides, visions of dark green, tarnished metals, it really gave the ship a wow factor and screamed the word pirate. Granted if the massive jolly roger with plump lips wasn't a clue swinging around on the center most mast you'd be too daft to put one and two together. Perhaps because the vessel wasn't intimidating and despite its odd pallet could explain why it was never once targeted by Boshni and his kin. Or it was just dumb luck.
Down bellow deck you had the galley, cargo hold, a brig or two and the crews quarters. Much like the upper deck the captains room was located above sea level and overlooked the sole. Behind closed doors a few bits of ruckus could be heard as well as rattling, typical noises from the captain discussing her course through the grand-line. Her crew, though brimming with personality with her, seemed to be squeamish about being so ready to simply charge through the grand line and this came with their relatively new experience. Jemma had just hired them on after all, bravery was something a guy earned out in these waters if he didn't have it. Often followed by shock and by his mouth hitting the floor a few times thanks to the bizarre happenings of these often-dangerous waters.
Kite Kalisto wasn't so much a man that had a fragile constitution, a tendency to squirm at the scary, but he did get bored easily. Even when he had a bed, good food, great company he would still pace across the floors or fiddle with his supplies and even his knives. The crew, the ones not in the captains room complaining or compromising, had gotten a bit wary with the guy practicing his knife throws or wanted to peace and at their suggestion he had gone up to gaze at the stars in the quiet hours of the night. His steps rattled off of wood, but it was quiet enough to not bare down on the folks downstairs. Once he closed the door, bathing the stairs below down in darkness once more, his nostrils took in a fresh breath of air. A sigh came soon after as the lanky hunter continued out of the doorway and crept past the beginning of the captains room. The layout of the ship after all had the crews quarter entrance stationed right by the captains room and it ensured Jemma would be aware of all comings and goings on the ship, she was however preoccupied and Kite strolled out onto the deck unimpeded.
Aside from a few barrels, the iconic canons and bundles of rope affixed to pegs on the rails overlooking the water, the poopdeck was all but deserted. Allowing the restless soul to skulk about the shadows, run his hands along the pillars of wood that held up the sails. He was so distracted by admiring the sky and the filigree on the ship that he might've not noticed if someone crept up behind him. He was no craftsman but the low romantic lighting down below often kept these details out of view, the tiny little scenes etched into the wood by shipwrights with care. Sure it might've been over the top but it clued you in to legends, scenes, all sorts of wonderful things.
Something other than wonder stirred in the silver haired whipcord thin guy, it was a package of emotions that he often barreled down only to have it teasingly head itself in the quiet of the night. It was the same thing that motivated him to trek across these waters to places yet seen or islands filled with criminals to capture. He was looking for something, and taking a finger to lightly press against these wood carvings, to muse at them, it was quite similar. It was looking at a picture you didn't take, like hearing the faint whispers of a song. An echo of the past.
Kite didn't linger, his body wasn't stiffened and he was relaxed in his steps as he took to continue walking towards the bow of the ship. Instead of letting his hands sheath themselves in soft pockets those gloves found a place on the handrail, and the wistful youth landed his eyes on the water. On darkened nights like these the great blue was dyed a deep jet black, scant ways of moonlight revealing a light but ultimately similar hue. It wasn't a discomforting black, but watching the ship cut into it lulled Kite into relaxing further, no longer feeling the need to explore the ship or run his hands across things for the pure sensation of it.
"Miu," Kite mumbled under his breath, passively, the dark waters bringing images of the girl to the front of his mind and bringing his brows to furrow as his frown deepened.
'Wonder just how far back her story goes and to where... if she came because she was trying to fix something herself-- or if she was running? Why do I... even feel the need to see into that darkness, to understand?` Festering in his thoughts he nearly mouthed the question before his thoughts went elsewhere with the advent of peculiar lights in the water, at first the young man took it to be tricks of the light from the moon and blinked.
A frown and deepend brow turned to a raised one, a silent 'o' upon his night bathing face. What was once ghostly blues underneath a black ocean ground were now vibrant masses of green, blue, red, orange, a prismatic display that pulsed just inches beneath the curtain of the sea. Even for the discerning customer, someone who knew her breen from her tuna not even her pallet would've seen the creatures responsible for this. A true mystery.
Down bellow deck you had the galley, cargo hold, a brig or two and the crews quarters. Much like the upper deck the captains room was located above sea level and overlooked the sole. Behind closed doors a few bits of ruckus could be heard as well as rattling, typical noises from the captain discussing her course through the grand-line. Her crew, though brimming with personality with her, seemed to be squeamish about being so ready to simply charge through the grand line and this came with their relatively new experience. Jemma had just hired them on after all, bravery was something a guy earned out in these waters if he didn't have it. Often followed by shock and by his mouth hitting the floor a few times thanks to the bizarre happenings of these often-dangerous waters.
Kite Kalisto wasn't so much a man that had a fragile constitution, a tendency to squirm at the scary, but he did get bored easily. Even when he had a bed, good food, great company he would still pace across the floors or fiddle with his supplies and even his knives. The crew, the ones not in the captains room complaining or compromising, had gotten a bit wary with the guy practicing his knife throws or wanted to peace and at their suggestion he had gone up to gaze at the stars in the quiet hours of the night. His steps rattled off of wood, but it was quiet enough to not bare down on the folks downstairs. Once he closed the door, bathing the stairs below down in darkness once more, his nostrils took in a fresh breath of air. A sigh came soon after as the lanky hunter continued out of the doorway and crept past the beginning of the captains room. The layout of the ship after all had the crews quarter entrance stationed right by the captains room and it ensured Jemma would be aware of all comings and goings on the ship, she was however preoccupied and Kite strolled out onto the deck unimpeded.
Aside from a few barrels, the iconic canons and bundles of rope affixed to pegs on the rails overlooking the water, the poopdeck was all but deserted. Allowing the restless soul to skulk about the shadows, run his hands along the pillars of wood that held up the sails. He was so distracted by admiring the sky and the filigree on the ship that he might've not noticed if someone crept up behind him. He was no craftsman but the low romantic lighting down below often kept these details out of view, the tiny little scenes etched into the wood by shipwrights with care. Sure it might've been over the top but it clued you in to legends, scenes, all sorts of wonderful things.
Something other than wonder stirred in the silver haired whipcord thin guy, it was a package of emotions that he often barreled down only to have it teasingly head itself in the quiet of the night. It was the same thing that motivated him to trek across these waters to places yet seen or islands filled with criminals to capture. He was looking for something, and taking a finger to lightly press against these wood carvings, to muse at them, it was quite similar. It was looking at a picture you didn't take, like hearing the faint whispers of a song. An echo of the past.
Kite didn't linger, his body wasn't stiffened and he was relaxed in his steps as he took to continue walking towards the bow of the ship. Instead of letting his hands sheath themselves in soft pockets those gloves found a place on the handrail, and the wistful youth landed his eyes on the water. On darkened nights like these the great blue was dyed a deep jet black, scant ways of moonlight revealing a light but ultimately similar hue. It wasn't a discomforting black, but watching the ship cut into it lulled Kite into relaxing further, no longer feeling the need to explore the ship or run his hands across things for the pure sensation of it.
"Miu," Kite mumbled under his breath, passively, the dark waters bringing images of the girl to the front of his mind and bringing his brows to furrow as his frown deepened.
'Wonder just how far back her story goes and to where... if she came because she was trying to fix something herself-- or if she was running? Why do I... even feel the need to see into that darkness, to understand?` Festering in his thoughts he nearly mouthed the question before his thoughts went elsewhere with the advent of peculiar lights in the water, at first the young man took it to be tricks of the light from the moon and blinked.
A frown and deepend brow turned to a raised one, a silent 'o' upon his night bathing face. What was once ghostly blues underneath a black ocean ground were now vibrant masses of green, blue, red, orange, a prismatic display that pulsed just inches beneath the curtain of the sea. Even for the discerning customer, someone who knew her breen from her tuna not even her pallet would've seen the creatures responsible for this. A true mystery.