[Quest RP] - Cymic the Kidd

[JungleTheSinOfSloth]

<Watch, you get pleasure in blood on freshly cleaned decks.

 

[Cymic_]

(Already replied.

Feeling slightly bad for the guy who scrambled backward for possibly his life, as well as some sense of immunity yo bring the captain's child, he put his foot into the metal bucket and threw it up into his hands. With really little time to think, he lobbed the bucket for the man's head, but it ended up bouncing off the tall man's bare waist area and clattering to the deck. Cymic's eyes widened as he realized his mistake, and he gulped almost cartoon-like as he felt his heart in his throat. The towering man, probably about six feet, and then some, slowly turned towards the boy in rags, looking intent on pursuing, Rob trying to shoot Cym a look of gratitude, as he probably saved his life. Those crates looked heavy. The quartermaster stood, sitting on some steps with a faint smirk, arms crossed, clipboard held to his torso as if amused. Cymic let out under his breath, ".. Uhhh.."

< Turn around and run.
< Grab the mop.
< Other?

 

[JungleTheSinOfSloth]

<Other. Punch him in the gnards and watch as he keels over. Then grab the mop, climb on his back and choke him to death with it.

 

[Firegirl]

< Turn around and run.

 

[Luam]

< Shout random things at the man in an attempt to confuse him, then kick him in right below the belt.

 

[Arken]

< What the nit?

 

[Heie]

Jump overboard

 

[JoeJoe]

< Shout random things at the man in an attempt to confuse him, then kick him in right below the belt.

 

[Cymic_]

Cymic glanced to the mop, and to the tall man approaching.. And he books it. He turned to run so fast he tripped up, but kept up the pace, before he felt himself hit something flat, yet stable, and when he looked up, Captain Soviel- Or Daddio, was looking down at him. He was sporting similar blonde hair, his silver elven ears poked out from under a captain's hat, silver trim. Snazzy. Soviel pushed the boy into the lass with tan skin, getting a closer look, she had a shiny nose piercing, as well as large, eloquent earrings. She pushed Cymic after she caught him, as if she and his dad were playing some game of hot potato. Soviel stepped forward, sauntering towards the tall, bare chested, tattooed man who halted in his tracks, bending to pick up the broom stick, and gave it a few whacks againt the deck, and then kicking it through so it were left splintered and jagged and the mop head were removed. Twirling it around almost, quizzically, he halted a few feet before the tall man- Tall man? They both had height, both tall men. Tattooed? Both were inked. Only Soviel was an elf, clad in a purple sailor's coat, and the other were a bare chested human.- The human looked to the pointy edge of the mop, and began. "These two twits are haltin' our departure. We've nearl'eh loaded all th' gol-" ..Deciding he had heard enough, a rude interruption was issued by the captain as he lunged the spiny, dirty shaft of the mop into the man's neck, and pulled it out a few moments after. ".. Get yerrself cleaned up, Jimmy- Cymic, swab the deck." ..Huh. Jimmy. Jimmy just held the hole in his neck- It was rather graphic. The whole crew watched. Some boos, some cheers, but no one came to Jim's rescue, and he was left to bleed out, an occasional gurgled cough and Cymic just watched the deck spread with watered down blood. Probably more upset about the mess he's been ordered to clean. Perhaps death wasn't an uncommon sight, as a pirate? (It wasn't.)

< Go find a spare mop as the ship readies for departure.
< Try and talk to father.

 

[JoeJoe]

<Go find a spare mop as the ship readies for departure and get away from your bloodthirsty father.>

 

[Centurion]

>Other
Drown self in Edward Dyer memorial Privy

 

[Firegirl]

< Go find a spare mop as the ship readies for departure.

 

[Cymic_]

The crowd dispersed. Cymic looked at his father, opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it- He was already walking away, anyhow. Presumably to start barking orders, or captain the ship, now. Making himself down into the middle layer of the ship which consisted of many cannons- Tied down, boxes of cannonballs, and crates of other supplies. The ship looked blatantly repaired in some areas. ..Weaving past a few crew mates, both interested in their own business, he made way to the bottom level of the ship. It was rather messy- yet simultaneously organized. Cluttered boxes and crates, some of them labeled. A clear walkway was apparent though, and he stepped through the dimmed deck of the ship as it seayed gently. It'd seem the ship has began to depart- Just then, he'd hear a scrambling noise at the end of the hall.

< Investigate.
< Grab the mop and get the hell out.
< Call out, verbally.

 

[Firegirl]

< Call out, verbally.

 

[JoeJoe]

<Grab the mop and get the hell out.>

 

[Cymic_]

Cymic skittishly stepped over to the supplies and pulled out and old worn mop, pointing it outward, and scrambling backwards.. He cleared his throat, accompanied by a voice crack. ".. Is t'ere som'n down here, be it a stowaway or be it a rat?" He blinked, listening intently. He heard another rustling noise, and backed up further, before a slender figure shown itsself, hesitantly.. Then came it stepping forward in the dim light, at an increased pace. Cymic stepped back, almost up the stairs, before he squinted. It was the lithe man who was nearly crushed to death on the top deck. Getting a better look, he was fairly young, probably his mid to late twenties. He had long brown hair, put in dreads and held with beads. He wore a dark brown leather jacket, and he was thin everywhere but his calves, noticably. His voice as sea-salty as most everyone else on board. ".. Thanks for th' help, or somethin'. I quite like me face. Captain's boy, righ'?" ..Cymic watched him with a close eye, albeit clearly recognizing him.

< Friendly approach, relate to him.
< Ridicule him. Make him clean up the body on the top deck.
< You have the mop, head upstairs and clean the body yourself.

 

[JoeJoe]

<Friendly approach, relate to him.>

 

[Firegirl]

< Friendly approach, relate to him.

 

[Cymic_]

"Ye', Captain's son, Aeh..Th name's Cymic. Ye' were in troubled waters t'ere fer a moment." Cymic said, leaning on the mop, knowing he'd stay to converse. "As were ye', boy. n' Roland, to ye'." Roland brushed some hay from his attire, he must have been laying in it earlier. "Uh.. It was me fault, to be honest in full. I wet th' surface of th' deck, purposefull'eh. n' no need to hide anymore. Soviel stabbed him wit' ..a broom stick." The lithe pirate smirked to Cymic's confession and shoved him playfully. Cymic took the mop, and turned, heading up to the surface level. He could see they were already making slighty distance from the Cove.

..


..


Three weeks later

Cymic stood to the left of Soviel as he guided the wheel gently, the same Moor Quartermaster to the right. The ship was bustling with activity. On the top deck, Cymic surveyed them. Everyone seemed to be wearing more gold- Likely the spoils received from Cutthroat Cove a few weeks prior. Soviel and the Quartermaster talked quietly, while Cymic surveyed the waters.

< Wander around the ship. It looks hectic.
< Use them pointy ears and listen to the conversation.
< Other? Sure.

 

[Firegirl]

< Use them pointy ears and listen to the conversation.