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Realistic or Modern french perfume (roleplay)

fairyfawn

fairyfawn

respectless
tapioca karter
captain
the dragon's ghost -- bow
content
clicky
interactions

n/a, open

The Howling Tide.

A rather strange ship with an equally strange story, or rather tale you could say, attached to it as well. But it makes for a good adventure if you want to see the shipwreck in person and then you would want to see if it really was carrying numerous cursed objects. Shining jewelry, exquisite clothing, golden statues – small statues mind you, pearl necklaces with rubies attached, gold wine cups, and a whole lot more! Cursed objects with varying stories of how they became cursed in the first place! And apparently these cursed objects had caused the crew of The Howling Tide to meet a terrible fate all those years ago.

Tapioca wasn't really one for taking curses seriously. It's been a while since that doomed ship that was carrying allegedly cursed items had disappeared so if there had been a curse, it would've worn off by now right? Right? Do curses even wear off after a certain period of time? Nevermind that, nothing was going to keep Tapioca away from a good adventure! Not even the possibility of her being cursed.

As of right now, Tapioca was at the bow of the ship. She was just lost in her thoughts and enjoying the day as she awaited the ship's arrival to the island. She wondered if the ship is still there, and if it is then surely the ship must be rotting by now. They'll have to watch their step. Plus, what if others had beaten the crew to the treasures? Surely there must be some objects left in the wreck. Tapioca shook her head to interrupt her thoughts. No, she shouldn't be thinking such things.

There was nothing but the wide, vast ocean in front of them. Nothing but the blue sea as far as Tapioca can see. They can relax! The weather is crisp and calm albeit just a little hot with the sun beating down on them; they should arrive at the island by dusk which will make for an eerie atmosphere if you ask her. Exploring a shipwreck in the dark, how fun and exciting! Tapioca wondered what item she was going to get; there would be so many items to pick from! It would have to wait until they reached the shipwreck, though, but for now Tap could find something to do. Or she could seek out someone to talk to.

This is going to be a great adventure! An adventure to stave off boredom. No, they are not lost, the ship is heading in the right direction! And Tapioca is currently internally rambling to herself again. But she was just giddy with excitement! Oh, look! Here comes Minnow, the best cat ever! Tapioca reached to give Minnow a few pats on the head before straightening her posture. There is the matter of discussing what to do once they reach the shipwreck but that can wait for now. Let them relax and do their own thing!

Tapioca let out a small sigh of content as she finished internally rambling. Another shake of her head. The atmosphere is quiet for now, aside from the lapping of the waves against the side of the ship and there was the aroma of salty sea air. Tap lingered in that spot at the bow of the ship, acting like it was the only thing she could do right now. Well, she could go inside and maybe take a nap and wait for dusk to fall. Maybe she could do that. Or she could just linger out here for a little longer and enjoy the nice weather.
coded by natasha.
 
MOOD: contemplative & annoyed at the situation.

OUTFIT: here.

LOCATION: the helm of the dragon’s ghost.
basics
MENTIONS:
@elderflower, @a z u l a, fairyfawn fairyfawn , FloatingAroundSpace FloatingAroundSpace

INT:
SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles , writing_widdershins writing_widdershins
tags
TL;DR stuck on the helm, bastien reflects on the events of the morning and the fate of the crew.
tl;dr
sébastien
❝ smiling fate, haven't seen you of late ❞
If only the winds would fight against them, he’d have more of a reason to discourage their venture.

Sébastien stood at the helm of the Dragon’s Ghost, one hand positioned on one of the prongs of the giant wheel, the other grasping a compass in his palm. He raised his eyes to catch the direction of the wind upon the main sails, attempting not to set his sights too high up the mast, lest he make himself dizzy. He could only assume Julia had made her little home in the crow’s nest for the day, but he wouldn’t dare to raise his gaze high enough to confirm that. He’d rather much like to keep his head on his shoulders.

Shaking his head to regain his focus, he raised the compass up, squinting his eyes as he compared their navigation position to the heading he had been given by Kaya. With his gaze switching between the compass and the sails, he nimbly guided the ship to correct towards their charted course. The sails caught the full brunt of the wind once more.

Though successful in his endeavors as helmsman, Bastien heaved an exasperated sigh. Sure, the weather was quite fair for sailing, and while he was not ungrateful for that (any sailor would be out of his mind to desire less), there wasn’t much thought to be put into navigation. Unfortunately, the wind seemed to be taking them right where they needed to go.

He snapped his compass shut in indignation, stuffing it back in one of his many jacket pockets. Not only that, but he couldn’t quite leave his post. With only two people on board allowed to man the helm, he was stuck here until he was relieved of duty. He just had a feeling that wouldn’t be any time soon.

He and the captain had gotten in a bit of a spat this morning, as he had brought up his concerns about their venture. It wasn’t the first time the two had disagreed about a course of action— in fact, he seemed to never really be on board with anything Tapioca proposed. Her plans were always too harebrained and risky for his liking.

Yet, there hadn’t been one adventure of hers that he never went along with. Despite his worries, he always folded. Over their years together, he had learned to trust her instincts, perhaps even more than his own— and she hadn’t gotten him killed yet. There was a reason she was the captain, after all.

But this? This was no laughable scheme or questionable opportunity that took him a few hours to warm up to. This was the Howling Tide— the ship that doomed her entire crew to a fate unknown, the ship that was said to carry a thousand curses. Who knew what now awaited any ship foolish enough to sail for her?

Tapioca didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She had always been so— stubborn. Pig-headed, he had thought. Bastien had never gotten as frustrated at her as he did this morning. She wouldn’t listen. How could she not see the risk that she put over them all? For why? The chance at the lost treasures that no other pirate crew had dared to pursue? He had gotten so exasperated that this time, he hadn’t been able to stop himself before he went too far—

“Oh, after all we’ve been through and all we’ve seen, curses are what you’ve chosen to be blind to?”

Oh, that one had gotten him in trouble. She didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say after that. Banished to the helm, he had been— and there he still was.

From his position, he could see her across the deck, standing at the ship's bow. He knew she wouldn’t take what he had said to heart; she didn’t believe in curses, after all. He always did enough worrying for the both of them.

And, despite his efforts, he had folded. She won, again— and he would do nothing about it. He couldn’t. The captain and the first mate were to be a united front towards the crew; to go against her in front of them would be to sow seeds of mutiny. He already made an accidental offhand comment about their argument when speaking with Izelle— which he quickly had to backtrack upon (though he was sure she saw right through him, as she always did). Yet, it wasn't that he couldn't. It was that he wouldn't.

No, no; he would sail the Dragon’s Ghost into the arms of whatever darkness befell the Howling Tide, for no more reason than because she had ordered him to.

He heaved another sigh. Damn him. He’d always be a sucker for Tapioca Karter.

Leaning against the ship’s wheel in defeat, he cast his gaze upward, his eyes squinting as they caught the bright light of the sun. They still had about half a day of sail ahead of them, and he was already tired. At least the deck was quiet, save for the wind in the sails and the waves against the sides of the ship— and the mutterings of the crew stuck on swabbing duty.

Drawn out of his reverie, Bastien furrowed his eyebrows, straightening up a little as he searched for the source of the voices. It didn’t take him very long at all, as Iona and Lucy came into his line of sight, previously hidden behind the main mast. He scoffed, a hint of an amused smirk on his lips, shaking his head to himself as he drew himself up tall.

“Aye, put your backs into it, lasses— the sea’s makin’ a mess faster than your cleaning.” He hollered, crossing his arms against his chest as if vaguely disappointed. In truth, they hadn't been doing too bad a job at all, but they were new crew— and he had every right to push them a little.
code by valen t.

boxes are clickable tabs, text has a hidden scroll.
⠀⠀​
 
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Izelle Howelle
💢
troubled, masking with usual irritation
emerging from the galley
calling to writing_widdershins writing_widdershins and SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles , sees sophocles sophocles
Izelle knew her place in the pecking order aboard the Dragon's Ghost. She was as vital as the pair of doctors in caring after the crew mates, ensuring that bodies were fed and full of energy while they examined them for any cuts and bruises and breaks; as vital as the navigator ensuring that they made it to their destination by keeping track of their stores and ensuring they had the strength to make it to their destination; and as vital as the capital and first mate themselves in ensuring that the ship would have the proper crew to run smoothly. Well, she would argue that last point, actually. She frequently had to be the one nagging the various children that the Dragon's Ghost had acquired over the years to perform tasks and responsibilities aboard the ship, commanding aid to ensure their future meals would make it— though she had learned the hard way several times about letting some of them near the animals that she brought aboard the ship. There was many a gold coin wasted on chickens that were “saved,” only for the creatures to perish of old age with minimal salvageable meat to speak of, certainly not enough to make up for the weight in grain that had been stolen from the stores to feed them. She had demanded that they find cages and locks after one too many of her suppers had been ruined, and Sébastien had acquiesced to paying for a few. Nowadays, there was a chain of keys that she kept tucked underneath her kirtle to ensure that it couldn’t be nicked from her waist by those who had gotten it into their head to save their future meals.

For the moment, she was standing in the galley, the circular porthole window permitting enough sunlight in so that she would not have to light the various candles in their metal frames that were scattered about. She was preparing an afternoon meal, ahead of their arrival to that damned shipwreck— and it was damned. She had three scars on the back of her legs, scars whose story she had not quite told to anyone in any manner of honesty, that told her enough about the cursed shipwreck to ensure that she would not be going anywhere near it. The memory sometimes gripped her in the midst of the night and startled her awake, her sheets tangled about her, chest heaving, nausea threatening to make her choke, despite the years that had passed. The captain’s declaration that they were headed to the Howling Tide had made her scars sting for a moment, the shiver of terror that traveled up her impeccably straightened back at the news feeling too close to the waters that had closed over her head and nearly dragged her to an early watery grave.

When Sébastien had come to her previously (and she could not deny that while he might not be the most helpful amongst the crew in the kitchen, he was certainly the one that bled the most tension and stress from her shoulders and forehead with his presence, the knowledge that he wouldn’t try any shit helping her unwind a bit in her tasks) and had made mention of his own reservations, she had wanted to snap at him and demand that he command the captain to let them sail elsewhere, anywhere. She did not wish to test the truth of rumors of curses— a concept that would be far harder to repair than a hole in the side of the ship from a fight gone wrong. The ocean could be an angry thing, and there was no telling what might have caused the wreck, and whether or not it had lingered. And she could not deny that whatever she had met had left its mark on her, physically and mentally, the fear and terror lingering itself, as deep as the cuts and far more potent.

As a result, she was a touch snappier than usual. She could declare it unease in the private of her own mind, but even there, she understood that it ran deeper than that. She was a professional, of course, and excellent at her task, and so she did not drop her ingredients for the stew that evening, nor did she cut or harm herself in any way. But she was moving much slower than she would have liked, pausing here and there and gazing upon her spices and aromatics as if they may save her from the fate that she was sure would pass if they arrived at the shipwreck. This translated into a necessity for help from the others, a necessity that she shouldered as a burden at the moment. On other days, she wouldn’t think twice about it, making her rounds in the morning to ensure she knew who was free, so that she may call for them later in the day. But today she had done no such thing, exhausted from a sleepless night of warring with her bedding. There was a nightmare that had repeated itself in her mind a few times these past few days, though she could not make heads or tails of it— her, standing aboard the Dragon’s Ghost, the day crystal clear, the waters calm, the image of serenity, if not for the incessant screams of her crewmates. She was frequently frozen to the spot, faced with no choice but to listen until she jolted into consciousness, the creak of the ship the only sound she could hear, alongside the blood rushing through her ears.

As such, was facing down the task of simply having to wander about the ship until someone appeared to be not-busy enough to aid her, which meant slim pickings, and potentially a chicken plucked from its coop if she was not careful.

With a heaving sigh, Izelle placed down her cleaver and shut her eyes. The ginger and garlic sat in its bowl, alongside the crushed peppercorns and diced red peppers. She needed someone to pull whatever root vegetables were ready from the garden, as well as someone to aid her in seeing if one of the chickens was ready (one had not laid eggs for three days now, and if this fourth day yielded none, it would mean that there would be chicken for dinner) if she was to have this meal prepared before they were to arrive at the shipwreck and she lost her damn mind. She wiped her hands on her stained apron that she wore over her kirtle and smock, and opened the door to the deck, her face its standard, stony appearance.

Glancing over her pickings, she raised a hand to block out the sun, spotting Sébastien standing at the helm, as he had for the past few days. She frowned at that, as usually, it would be traded off more frequently. Something to do with his comment that he had attempted to mask, she suspected, which meant her usual choice of companion would not do. Glancing around, she spotted no one— until Sébastien spoke, and there was the pair of new crew members, taking on the unenviable but crucial task of ensuring the ship remained clean, which they seemed to be completing by ensuring most of their energy was going towards grumbling and complaining, but completing nonetheless. She dropped her hand but was forced to squint to see past the glare, and before either of them could resume their task, called out, “Your task does not require you to carp on about,” in her usual dry tone. “If you’ve decided that your time is so abundant that you can afford to stand about complaining about your tasks rather than simply doing them and being done with the whole mess, I am in need of aid that I am sure you are both wildly capable of providing.”
coded by natasha.
 
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scroll
















The surgeon






Matilda


























mood


Fine






















outfit























location


Infirmary






















interactions


interactions here






















tags


tags here






























"You know that sleeping isn’t a crime and that you should go to bed before you fall asleep on your desk, right?"."


Matilda queried as she was reaching for a bottle of vinegar that was on a nearby desk. Kaya was sitting on the examination table in front of her, just having explained how the very noticeable bruise, accompanied by a tiny cut on her forehead had appeared. She knew she had no business talking to the cartographer like that, since Mat herself very often ended up waking in the morning, only to realize she had slept on top of the books she had been studying the night before. She knew it didn’t benefit her health or performance in any way, and yet, she couldn’t help but push herself to her limits. She loved medicine and always wanted to learn more, not just out of pure curiosity but also because she was loyal to her duties, because she aspired to become the best doctor she could and that would not be achieved if she didn’t possess thorough understanding of every sickness, disease and injury. Because, What if one of her crewmates suffered a fatal injury or befell a critical illness that neither she nor Val knew how to treat?What then? Would they just let the pirate die? No,no, she wasn’t taking any risks of that sort. But when it came to her own safety she didn’t mind making the occasional precarious decision. Like tonight. Well, it wasn’t exactly a risk but more of a tricky situation. One in which not only she, but also her friends, took part in.And while she did worry about everybody’s wellbeing, she knew it was out of her power to do anything about it, seeing that they were all in fact pirates and as pirates they were supposed to like action. Plus, Matilda knows what they say, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

She, along with nearly the whole crew were going to visit a supposedly cursed wrecked ship, the infamous Howling Tide. Tilda was as well-aware as everybody else that nobody had dared to even approach the ship in years, let alone actually enter it. But the pirates aboard the Dragon’s Ghost would not let stories of curses defy them from fishing out precious treasure and being able to boast about having visited the Howling Tide. And while she trusted her Captain and was sure that if Tapioca thought something was safe then it was, Matilda would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she was a little anxious. She didn’t exactly believe in curses, thinking that rumors of such things were only spread around to prevent others from stealing the treasure pirates had hidden.

However, that uneasy feeling still lingered in her. She was a tad ashamed of her cowardice because as a pirate, she wasn’t supposed to be defied by mere gossip . But eventually she had decided to follow her friends there, for the sake of the adventure if not for anything else and simply not take anything with her from the shipwreck. Her excuse was that she didn’t want to be wearing a jewel or accessory that once belonged to somebody the pirates of the Howling Tide had tortured. And it was a believable and logical excuse. Almost good enough for Tilda herself to believe that was the real reason she didn’t want to carry something from that ship and not because it could be cursed. The other option was for her to not go at all, but apart from that making her seem even more of a coward she was too curious to see what all the fuss was about. Mat loved escapades after all, it was the break in the routine that left her feeling refreshed. She loved her work yes, but it could get tiring every now and then and unlike most people, who crave rest after the exhaustion that comes with long shifts, Tilda’s favourite way of unwinding was by getting tangled up in a situation where a surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins.

The medic soaked a small piece of cotton in the vinegar and she turned back to Kaya, gently pressing it on the cut on her forehead to sanitize the wound. "Do you experience any kind of dizziness, blurry vision, grogginess, or feel like there’s pressure on your head where you hit it?" She asked, making sure the girl didn’t have a concussion. She threw the cotton on a bin that was sitting on the floor next to her. The cut wasn’t deep or serious enough for it to need bandaging or to have to be treated with one of the ointments of Matilda and Valené’s collection.







♡coded by uxie♡
 








Swabbing the deck. That's what her official job was. Iona sighed. She had expected this adventure to be more glamorous and full of excitement. She had mopped her mother's house floor many times, the only difference being the rough ship's plank versus the smooth floor of home.

Iona straightened her back, feeling the satisfying crack and release of pressure on her spine. She rubbed the palm of her hand, where the beginning of a blister was forming from handling the wooden mop handle. She'd have to go see if Valené had any cures for that later.

At least she didn't sunburn. She imagined that the pain of that coupled with her aching muscles would drive her completely insane. Thankfully, she had only one of those to contend with.

She was glad Lucy was helping her, preventing her from dying of boredom. Turning to her deck-swabbing companion, she said, "I never knew being a pirate required so much mopping."

As if he had heard what she said, Sébastien reprimanded them from behind the helm. Startled by the sound of his voice, the handle of Iona's mop slipped from her hand and clattered to the deck. Face flaming, she guiltily picked it back up and began swabbing again with renewed fervour.

Just when she felt like she had mostly regained her composure, she heard another voice behind her that made her jump violently and nearly drop her mop for the second time. Izelle had come up from the galley without Iona noticing.

Izelle announced her need of someone to assist her in the galley, and Iona subconsciously shrunk back. As much as she disliked her current job, she would rather continue with it than be stuck in the galley, which was possibly home to some poor doomed chicken, for hours with the only crew member she was actually scared of. "I'm sure Lucy would be glad to help you," she told Izelle, pushing her friend forward and silently begging her to agree. She turned back to her swabbing to show both Izelle and Sébastien how serious she was about this job.

She hoped they would get to the wreck of the Howling Tide soon. That's where the adventure would truly begin for her. At the very least, she could stop mopping when they arrived. She hadn't heard the legend of the cursed objects before she boarded this ship, and she had at first been terrified of going anywhere near the shipwreck. But she trusted Cap Tap, so how bad could it be, really?














20171205_103019814_M.JPG


 
Syrena Valené Azara.
dreamy, relaxed, curious
all over the ship, making their rounds
too many to @
imagine it clean
As the sea gently rocked The Dragon’s Ghost towards its destination, faint images of a shipwrecked ruin, mystical treasures, and secrets guarded by time itself danced their way through Valené’s mind. The surgeon was leaning against the infirmary wall, absent-mindedly watching Matilda clean a gash on Kaya’s forehead. Her face gave no tell of emotion as she was not too worried about the small gash on Kaya’s forehead--the blood was already darkening and she could see hints of the formation of a small scab. Smiling softly as Tilda finished dressing the wound, Valené tilted her head to the side, her thoughts finally making their back to the current reality. “You ought to be more careful, Kaya. If a scab isn’t formed by tomorrow morning, come back in so we can give you an ointment to fight off any infection.” Valené said gently before she went over to her small desk and scribbled down a few notes detailing Kaya’s visit and things to watch out for--all for her and Matilda’s reference.

“And make sure you eat this--” The black-haired medic handed a small tangerine to Kaya before the ship’s carpenter could exit the infirmary. Looking over her journal, Valené tsked gently under her breath. “Well, now seems as good a time as ever for a citrus hour. Let me know if you need anything, Tilda. I’ll bring you an orange if I don’t see you on deck.” The medic’s voice was soft and gentle, much like her demeanor and she offered the other medic a small smile before she grabbed a green cloak and threw it over her shoulders before she headed to the main deck, snagging a small basket from underneath her desk along the way.

The sun’s glare was evident and more than enough reason for Valené to pull the hood of her cloak over her head. Though she was called paranoid, she often theorized that the sun was the most damaging part of being at sea. She believed it was why those who sailed grew wrinkly so fast and died earlier than expected due to ‘non-identifiable causes’. Her eyes darted over to her tangerine tree and she immediately made her way over to it, plucking a few dying branches off. It was growing beautifully, nonetheless. Smiling happily, Valené began to gingerly pick off a few of the ripe tangerines and piled them into the basket before her eyes glanced over to the slight commotion on board.

She heard Sebastian’s voice first, then Izelle’s. A bemused smile tugged the medic’s lips upwards as she took in the sight of the two newcomers on board. It was clear Iona was frightened of Izelle the most, and though Valené was quite fond of the cook, she could understand the fear. Unlike most of those on board, Valené was the opposite of what a pirate should be. She was more kind than she was scary, which was fine since it was not her job to be scary or intimidating (until it came time for Izelle’s physical check-up.) She was here to keep them healthy, not plan their plunderings.

Coming over to Iona’s side, Valené smiled softly as she handed her a small tangerine. “Take a few moments to snack on this, Iona.” Her eyes drifted down to the crew member’s hands and she frowned, looking at the blisters. “You can come to see me and Matilda for your hands whenever you have a chance. Take care of yourself, Iona. You only have one body and it will be of no use to anyone if you’re injured.” Valené reminded her gently before she turned to Lucy and handed her a tangerine as well. “You as well. You know the drill--when it’s time to eat citrus, we all must comply.”

Valené proceeded to toss a tangerine over at Izelle as well. “I did not see any peels in your bin yesterday, Izelle. Please remember to make time for a quick snack. I’d rather you complain about my stuffing oranges in your face when you’re healthy, rather than us starve because you’ve fallen sick.” She reminded the cook with a playful smile before she continued her way up to the helm of the ship. “Sébastian,” She greeted him simply before she handed him an orange. “You look stressed. I’m sure the Howling Tide is nothing compared to the great adventures you’ve been on….” Valené teased lightly, alluding to one of many tall tales the ship’s first mate loved to tell. Stifling a laugh, she made her way over to the bow of the ship before she reached the captain.

“Good afternoon, captain. This is for you.” Valené handed the captain a tangerine. Her eyes drifted to the open water and for a moment, her thoughts were filled with faint images of a forgotten shipwreck by the name of the Howling Tide. She was not sure whether or not she believed in the myths and legends. She was a woman of science, after all. But she knew better than to write anything off, for all she knew, magic could simply be science yet to be discovered. “Do you believe in the curse?” Valené openly asked, bringing the bin of tangerines under her arm, propping it up against her hip. She would deliver the rest to the remaining crew, but first, she wanted to hear the captain’s thoughts on the supposedly cursed ship they were all headed for.
coded by natasha.
 
Click the little dots at the bottom of the screen to view the text <3​






  • Main Deck















    STRAWBERRY MENTOS



    Leanna Firestone






















    These days, knowing more makes you more miserable.























@CahiraYero



9 minutes ago


















nine lives


The ocean churned underneath them, hitting the sides of the Dragon’s Ghost. It was a lulling sound, one that promised safety from bickering crewmates when Cahira wanted to throttle them. Or it filled the silence that has spanned the past couple of days since Bastien was banished to the wheel. The tension between him and Captain Tap could be sliced with a blade. Maybe it should be before they suffocated everyone else. They hovered near Bastien on the main deck, leaning on the banister that kept them from falling overboard. Twisting their blade in the air, Cahira watched as the light fractured off into sun spots on the deck.

It was a beautifully crafted piece, a strong iron cutlass that curved slightly before tapering into a deadly point. One that allowed Cahira to impale someone easily, maybe take out a liver or colon on the way out. The walnut handle was imprinted with Latin words that they weren’t sure they knew how to read. One of the many languages they have not learned, what a shame. They tipped the blade again, testing the balance in their hand and accessing the edges. Cahira’s eyes stared back into the reflection of the blade, dark violet bruises painted underneath. The result was most likely from a lack of sleep and just lying on the deck, staring into the vast expanse of stars.

Cahira twirled the blade through the air, stabbing invisible people. Their fingers splayed as they dropped their arm again. A small admiration bloomed in their chest for how it seemed to be an extension of their arm, and after hours of grueling practice and shaking limbs, it was. They laid the blade across their propped-up leg, running a rag down the metal. A soothing set of motions that allowed their mind to stray. Mainly to their looming adventure, one that was causing a rift between crewmates. The sunken ship of the Howling Tide.

She was notorious for killing her passengers and holding treasures that made the sane of mind go insane. They would be lying if this adventure did not spark at least a little bit of curiosity and a thrum of excitement in them. Maybe they would get some new treasure, maybe even a new weapon. Perhaps they would get cursed and die a tragic tale but wasn’t that what being a pirate was all about? The sense of danger and adrenaline rushes that left them quivering and begging for another adventure? Where was their crewmate's sense of adventure? How could they all pass up the chance to be the first possible people to return to the forgotten ship and the waters surrounding her? But no, all they did was bristle at the mere mention of her.

Typhoon brushed against their leg, dragging Cahira back into reality. Back to the crashing of waves against the hull and crewmates. “What is it?” They reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ear, a small smile on their face. At least someone on this ship didn’t have a condemning look on their face. Instead, the dog had his tongue out and slobbering everywhere. His ears perked up, nose lifted in the air before pounding across the deck to Miyu. The dog jumped up, greeting them with a giant wet lick. Cahira sighed, rubbing the bridge of their nose. Why did he always do that? They stood up, sheathing the blade back to their side. Striding across the deck and pulling gently on Typhoon's collar, they gave an apologetic smile. “Apologizes your highness.” Their accent was rough, dragging on the constants. “He tends to do that to people as a greeting. Are you ready for our adventure to the deep?”
 
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m

i

y

u







THE ROYAL


mood
"I have been assaulted by a dog"

location
The main deck

oufit
Pwetty pirate fit

tag
Cello. Cello.





Nagase Miyu

Miyu hadn't been allowed on many of their previous adventures... but she couldn't exactly blame them for not letting her go. She was deaf and untrained in combat. In a fight, she would be a burden. She could even get someone else killed. She still felt a pang in her chest whenever they said no, however. She was getting better at fighting, at communicating, couldn't she try?

That was why she was over the moon when they finally let her go with them. Well, they weren't really planning on fighting anyone, just looting an old ship wreck. Well... an old, possibly cursed ship wreck. Why did that have to be her first adventure? Her upbringing was supposed to make her logical, curses were something only the uneducated believed in, but the ship had a thick atmosphere of nerves about it. She couldn't help doubt her education.

She leaned on the edge of the ship, looking over at the waves beneath them. She didn't really have a job yet... well not an important job. She could read but most of the crew couldn't, so it's not like they had a library of books they needed scouring, or a piano they wanted playing, or a horse they wanted riding... For now, her only purpose was to clean... but cleaning was hard, she wanted a break. She never knew things could get this dirty.

She descended to the main deck, her bare feet padding against the wood below them. She could feel the vibrations through her feet and better gauge where everyone was without even having to look. However, she was still ill prepared when the ships dog attempted to flatten her.

She was an animal lover at heart, but horses rarely tried to tackle her and lick her face. She sealed her lips tightly shut as he soaked her face in slobber, trying her best to avoid getting any of it in her mouth. As he finally dropped down, Miyu wiped her face with her sleeve, waving her hands in an attempt to dry them. Gross. All the dogs she knew were perfectly groomed and trained to within an inch of their life. If they jumped up at a royal, they'd probably be charged with treason.

She awkwardly patted Typhoon on the head, feeling a tightness in her chest as her mother seemed to scold her from thousands of nautical miles away. Touching a dirty dog? He didn't deserve to be pet, he'd just assaulted a royal! She tried to focus on Cahira's lips as they spoke but couldn't help but glance down at the dog to make sure he wasn't about to deck her again.

She nodded eagerly as Cahira spoke of their adventure. She wouldn't mind looking at some treasure, even if it was cursed and they probably shouldn't take it. She pointed to her palm. Though they had only established a few words so far, the crew had begun to create a language in which Miyu could communicate. Pointing to her palm was for "gold," or "treasure," or "expensive crap we should probably steal."





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.


 






tapioca




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melanie martinez



pity party









As Tapioca stood there at the bow of the ship, she began to momentarily think back on the spat that she had that morning with her first mate, Sébastien. He had made her very mad with their disagreement on the current adventure they were embarking on. And one knows it’s bad if she’s mad. Wow. She’s been on many adventures with Sébastien and this is the adventure that causes him to go too far with disagreeing with her?

“Oh, after all we’ve been through and all we’ve seen, curses are what you’ve chosen to be blind to?”

That was it. Tapioca hadn’t wanted to hear anymore of it from him after that and had banished him to the helm of the ship to be stuck on helm duty. She hadn’t said anymore to him after that, and there was no need to. He was on helm duty and she would be relaxing at the bow of the ship.

Of course by now, Tapioca had cooled off from the spat. She was set on this adventure; Sébastien could believe in the curses all he wanted but she wasn’t going to and she couldn’t be swayed into picking out a different mystery. Maybe she was jumping into this blindly and not thinking about it first. Soon, Sébastien will see that Tapioca was right about having the crew head towards The Howling Tide and that there was no such thing as curses. The crew will pick out their objects that they wanted and absolutely nothing will happen.


A familiar voice then pulled the captain out of her thoughts. Oh, there’s Valené, one of the surgeons! With a bin full of tangerines! Tapioca always looked forward to the tangerines, a favorite fruit of hers to snack on. “Ah, thank ye kindly.” Tap spoke as she happily accepted the snack from the surgeon.

“Do you believe in the curse?”

Did Tapioca believe in the curse? Of course not! Or at least she didn’t take the supposed curse all that seriously. Tapioca assumed that she couldn’t stress this enough. She was set on going to the shipwreck and taking something for herself and no supposed curse was going to deter her from doing so. “No, I don’t believe in the curse at all.” Tapioca finally spoke up, followed by a quick shake of her head. Her fingers started to peel the tangerine that had been given to her, a delicious treat to snack on while The Dragon’s Ghost headed towards the long abandoned shipwreck. Tap had convinced herself that she was going to take something and nothing bad would happen to her. Sure she believes in sea monsters and ghosts and merfolk, but curses? Again, she doesn’t believe in curses. The Howling Tide just got caught up in a very bad storm all those years ago. That’s all.

The captain looked up from what she was doing to look at the surgeon, “Do ye believe in the curse?” She inquired out of curiosity, picking off a tangerine slice. As far as she was aware, Sébastien seemed to be taking the curse of the Howling Tide seriously but she was curious to hear what the others thought about the alleged curse. As well as if they were going to take something from the shipwreck.






♡coded by uxie♡
 
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