A Primordial Journey

[Charlene]

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A PRIMORDIAL JOURNEY








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Set back in late eighteen hundreds, a set of intelligent professors both specializing in cartography


and linguistics sign up for the leadership of an exciting expedition. Such journey will be taking place


across the vast oceans to the unknown lands of a very large island on the Pacific. The two of them will


lead such adventure with a small team consisting of many different fields, and wish the best to find


something that will place their names in history books for generations on end.





ATTICUS PETER CAMBRIDGE











THIRTY-ONE____LEADER & HEAD CARTOGRAPHER





Atticus is a British Professor who is mastered in many fields, although is often suited being the lead cartographer.


He is good with words and is an all around jackass. He's clever, quick-witted and has a humor unlike any other.


If he doesn't go on rambling for hours, he surely is not giving a single shit about you unless you interest him.


He's cold, but incredibly intelligent. If you go against his word, make sure you watch out, he'll make note.





ATLAS CHRISTOPHER WENZEL








TWENTY-EIGHT____CO-LEADER & HEAD LINGUIST


Atlas is a rookie as you can see but he is one of the youngest and smartest professors in his college. He is American


and masters in linguistics as many other things, but uses most of his time studying and speaking new languages for


future use. His mind can wander and he can be a sarcastic piece of shit, but he is a sweetheart and complete goof


on the inside. If he doesn't win you over with his sweetness and words, then you are surely missing out.

​

 

[Nebula]

On the deck of the ship sat Atticus, lounging on a lone chair with a table in front of him scattered with wrinkled and worn maps. His frames rested smoothly on his rugged face, sitting in front of his two brown irises that darted back and fourth from line to line on the paper under his working hands. Brows pulled together in an intent gaze, his hand held a silk feather drowned in ink that raced to draw yet another borderline dividing land from ocean. "Finally." he successfully cheered, throwing his feather down and holding the map up for all to see. "Oi, what a beaut." he grinned, quite proud for such masterpiece he completed in spare time. Ripping those glasses from his eyes, he stood up and held it up to the sun beating down on his tan skin. "Gentlemen!" he called with voice booming, "Come fourth, come fourth! Here we have it," he turned, flashing the map. "We are nearly there. I think we settle for drinks tonight, no?" The men all around gazed at such perfection, waving their hats and grinning for the close destination. Some cheered while others placed their small eyes to the horizon, curious on what was yet to come. "Atlas!" The grown man called, throwing his glasses back on. "Someone fetch that weasel before I throw him off the boat, co-leader should be out here and helping leader run the deck," he hissed. "Not hiding in his cabin jabbering nonsense to himself!"

 

[Charlene]

The crashing of waves against the boat made the man seasick, knocking back and fourth in his cabin that was everything but spacious it seemed. It reeked of ocean water and out his window he seen nothing but it. Oh blast, why did he request to partake such disaster in the first place? Day in and day out he begged and pleaded to leave the land, but now he was simply dying to go back. How he would love to press his young toes into the warm soil of mother Earth and kiss her upon her lips. "Oh woe is me." he sighed exaggeratedly, leaning forward and pressing his warm forehead against the bare top of his desk, scattered with bunks and nonsense. It made a soft thud, followed by a disgusting chain of moans rumbling from his chest in utter disgust.


"Tu es très belle aujourd'hui, quel est votre nom?"


Atlas babbled aloud, madness flowing from his lips as he portrayed a simple conversation throughout his head, such conversation he wished to use for the natives; if there were any on the land they were going to, and hope for peace and happiness once stepping onto the unknowns. "No, no no." he scolded himself, using the palm of his slender hand to smack the crown of his skull. "Beautiful? I think they not wish to be complimented straight away once meeting them. Does not work, nope, nope." The man threw his head up as he rubbed his naked chin. "Wait," he slowly lowered his appendage and cursed to himself. "What is these beings don't speak French! I'm such a-" he began to shout to the heavens above, leaning back in his chair before he was cut off by a familiar, and dreading voice.


"Atlas!"


His leader called for him, what did he need now, did he not see he was in the middle of current study? "'Aye, I'm coming," he gritted his teeth during shouting back, closing all the open books piled on his desk and gathering up the scattered papers. "Lousy crooked tooth doesn't like to be alone, seems like." Atlas mumbled incoherently, shoving his belongings into his knapsack and throwing it across his shoulder while he exited his cabin room and made his way to the deck. "You call me to be fourth your appearance, what do you need?"

 

[Nebula]

Atticus turned and flashed his map to the rookie with an eyebrow raised. "Come fourth," he ordered, waving a hand. "We are nearly there to the lands and here you are, moping in your cabin!" he snickered, pointing a finger to their current position on the neat, freshly done paper. "Here, is where we are." he said, now moving his finger across. "This is our route. By morning, I'm sure we will arrive on perfect schedule." he stabbed the empty-ness at the top, grinning now. Throwing his map down, he walked over and gripped his partner's shoulders tightly. "Are you not excited? We call for drink, tonight." he nodded, then threw his hands in the air, spinning his built frame in a complete circle. "Gentlemen! Show young Atlas the excitement of what is yet to come!" The men surrounding the two cheered once more, throwing hats and some pulling on a good jig.

 

[Charlene]

Slender fingers ran through thick tresses of hair as Atlas breathed out and eyed the map shoved in his face. "It's called study, sir." he mumbled, cocking his head and digging in his knapsack for his spectacles to get a better look. Pushing the thin frames in front of his hazel pools, he squinted and looked at the intricate lines. "By morning, you say?" a devious smile pulled at his cheeks, following his leader's thin finger. "Are you completely positive of this, sir?" Atlas questioned, straightening his posture and taking off his glasses to shove them back into his bag. "I mean, if we are certainly close I assure you, I believe we should take much more precaution than simply drink tonight." he said, gasping lightly as Atticus' thick hands gripped his lithe shoulders tightly. He knew how the man was. If he did not agree to his way-of-doing things, then those same hands would throw his body off the side and into the depths of the unknown ocean. "O-Oh I'm sure I can have, one drink I suppose." Atlas flashed a fake smile, and breathed a sigh of relief as his leader turned away and twirled.


"Gentlemen! Show young Atlas the excitement of what is yet to come!"


He shouted, and Atlas' eyes slightly widened at the ruckus these men soon created. Whistling and howling, throwing hats and pulling on a good dance or two. "Sir, I think-" he tried to say above all the noise, but suddenly was lifted from his feet by the same sailors as before and carried to the main dinner room beneath the ship. "Please, put me down!" he cried, pulling his arms and legs that were gripped tightly to try and get them free, but failed miserably. "Just one drink, just one drink!" they chanted, throwing their co-leader down into a seat at the fancy bar at the far right and backing off.

 

[Nebula]

"Yes, go on," Atticus cheered, clapping his large hands together and bouncing slightly on his heels. For once, a smile appeared on his rugged lips as he followed after the large group of sailors, carrying his partner to the bar for "one drink". "Just one gentlemen, I assure you. We will be more than fine leading this ship after this one drink." he held an arm out and gave one of them a gentle pat on the shoulder. The noise died down when Atlas was thrown onto the chair, and the sailors backed up, waiting for a reaction. Atticus, being the one to break the silence, ambled over and took a seat next to the rookie. "Give us whatever you got." The man nodded his head, placing his arms on the counter and looking at Atlas. "You a'right?"