Night Music [Nira'lia, Sariana, Sylkra]

[Sariana]

The sound of Sylkra's panicked voice reached her ears, but the warrior was committed, her outrage overflowing into a physical entity. As her fist connected with the jaw of the tall, opalescent creature, she heard the hard crack of bone on bone - feeling the almost subtle push back from him and the shooting pain through her hand and wrist. He stumbled, and with hands faster than her own in this state of unreasonable anger, he grabbed her wrist. Spun to face him, both wrists firmly encased in stone-like grip, Sariana glared up into tide-pool eyes. Unchanging eyes, she realized. Chest to chest, the drykas glared at him with hurt and anger radiating from her depths. Pash'nar looked at her, briefly, before uttering his simple answer to her wrath. It was true, he was absolutely right, but Gods above right now she couldn't give a petch. She'd seen something then, something soften behind the gruff exterior. An admission that he knew, he knew that he'd done wrong.

"There'll be time for talkin' when it ain't stormin'."

With that, the ethaefal released her, throwing the woman in the direction of the cabin. She stumbled back, caught in the to and fro of the ship, steadying herself and shooting the moonlit being one last stare, catching nothing but a fading figure in the dark storm. Feeling the soft touch of the konti's hand on her shoulder, Sariana turned, taking Sylkra by the hand as they went.

Once under the cover of the cabin, the woman moved to her pack and pulled out a soft absorbent cloth, rubbing it over the skin of the kelvic and her hair, water dripping off her own tanned features and thick inky locks.

"Sylk, your freezing. Let's get you dry, and warmed up." Her voice quavered as she spoke, sapphire eyes blurring with tears as Nira'lia's voice reached her ears. The drykas swallowed hard and tried to ignore the emotions welling up inside her, trembling with the strain. Finally, she dropped the cloth and moved back to lean against the door of the stable, shaking her head and looking away from the other woman. Her hand throbbed, knuckles bruised and one bleeding from the violent contact with the godlings face. Taking a deep breath, and another, the warrior looked at her trembling fingers.

"I don't even know why I'm upset. It's not like I even care about the bastard." She laughed wryly, tears welling over anyway. Biting her lip, she scoffed.

"Petch, I've only met him twice. I just thought...the feelings...I thought Karithus had something to show me. I thought...stupid..." Reaching up with her uninjured hand, Sariana wiped away the tears roughly before looking up at her companions, glancing at Sylkra with an apologetic look.

"You shouldn't have had to deal with that, I shouldn't have reacted. I'm sorry." Turning blue eyes to Nira'lia, she sniffed.

"I'm sorry."

[Sylkra]

oocSo, this is a very short post. Please forgive me, I had to squeeze out what little time I have. Life is just backing me up so much, I find it hard to post anything now! And this thread was my top priority. Once again, I am so sorry. ~Sylk

Sylkra followed Sariana in reluctantly, still unsure of the man. She growled and snarled, and was most of all annoyed when he shoved them all in the small boat room. She was about to snap at him, when Sariana came over with a towel and gently wiped Sylkra's dripping hair. She loved it when people rubbed her in any form, and Sylkra found herself making a noise that almost sounded like a purr. But, her emotions shifted from happy, to sad, annoyed, and angry all at once.

She blurted out, without being able to stop, "Sariana! Why are you so angry? He only shifts, it's not that big of a deal! I mean really, he's only different at day and night! Just like me in this form, and being normal. We're no different."

Sylkra's eyes widened in shock, and she covered her mouth with her hands in embarrassment. Her eyes watered, and she threw herself ver to the nearest wall, and banged her head as bad as she could into it, over and over. She had upset Sariana. Master.

She didn't stop, and the wall was wet with her never ending tears. She hit her head as hard as she could, and didn't care for the huge bruise forming on her forehead, or the headache. All she could think about was how Sariana must be feeling.

[Pash'nar]

Pash'nar watched them all go, a scowl etched deeply into his aquiline features. This was why he petching hated passengers. This is why he had no family, kept most friends at arm's length, and mostly learned to find his pleasure in the more shallow end of purely physical relationships. Not that it helped that all three of his customers were women. Women never said what they meant. Or meant what they said. Like this petching unpredictable tempest they found themselves battling, it never seemed to matter what he did. It was always wrong. His arms ached with the efforts to keep the lines from snapping and the ship on course. It was impossible to stay focused, however, and more than once he found himself whipped and battered by wind and waves, staring precariously over the hull of the ship into the dark, churning brine below. Despite his preoccupation with the more personal situation between himself and Sariana—a situation that shouldn't be an issue as far as he was petching concerned—the statuesque shard of moonlight found himself mouthing words of prayer to Laviku himself that his old casinor was safe in Kaela's hands somewhere out there in the night. He'd like to see that petching antique thing again. He'd grown a bit attached to it. He'd also like to see his friends again. They'd put up with him, after all, humored him enough to take on these three passengers and that stupid horse. He failed to clear his mind, but he said what words he could muster anyway. They were even sincere, which was a rarity for the fallen ethaefal. The god of the sea had shown him enough kindness over the decades. Maybe he listened. But with another toss of the waves, the sailor found his thoughts drifting back to the mess he shouldn't be in. He struggled to blame himself—other than the obvious keeping his two forms separate from the Drykas, what had she wanted, anyway? They'd enjoyed each other without any strings attached, or so he thought. Did she need to know more? Would it not have just been a distraction? Knowing made things complicated. That's why he'd kept to himself. Straying to the deeper side of personal relationships always put unnecessary pain into the mix, or so Pash'nar had long since concluded for himself. He didn't care if it was the right thing to do, either. It just worked. Petch 'em all for thinking different. And petch this storm for being so rough. Would it ever end?

[Nira'lia]

"Oh, what the..." squeaked the Konti as she watched Sylkra bang her head against the wall. She sent an alarmed look at Sariana... at the Drkyas woman who had tears in her eyes, and had all the reason to be upset. "Sylkra, Sariana, please...!" Truth be told, Nira'lia could feel adoration for the Kelvic. Was she actually defending Pash'nar? She probably didn't know the extent of what had actually happened, but her words were full of innocence. She didn't know what to do. Nira'lia was used to being optimistic and plastering a smile on her face even when it was unnecessary. She knew how to push out words of encouragement, but she knew her limits as well. This was not the time to tell them that it will all be okay, that this feeling of dread would soon vanish. Or... could she? They didn't know about the boundaries of her abilities, right? "Sariana, don't worry about it!" she said suddenly, and she put on a bright smile that she hoped would help. The people of her race were known to be oracles and seers, and these people before her didn't need to know that she hadn't particularly honed her abilities yet to actually see the future. She never actually told them she couldn't interpret the future well enough. "You're going to forgive him soon enough. You two are going to be fine. I know this because I've seen it." She was lying—she hadn't seen it. However, she had seen the past, and something in her told her she was telling the truth.

[Sariana]

"Gods be damned, Sylk stop it!" The drykas said in shock, moving to the kelvic and stepping to separate the wolf from the wall. Frowning at her with red rimmed blue eyes, Sariana shook her head.

"I forbid you to do that to yourself. Ever." Pushing the kelvic back so she could inspect her forehead, the warrior sighed.

"It's not that he can change Sylk. It's that he didn't tell me, it was him. I don't petching care whether he can turn into a man, god, fish...loaf of bread. I thought that...well..." Taking a deep breath she glanced down at her bruised and bleeding knuckles.

"I thought I'd left him behind in Syrilas, and I...nevermind." Pursing her lips, she glanced at the konti as she suddenly put on a cheery face and a bubbly voice. Offering a weak smile, the brunette shrugged.

"There's nothing to forgive. Emotions like this only cause complications and distractions. He knew that, and I knew that. It must just be...maybe the time at sea is just getting to me. I don't care if we never really petching see each other again." Laughing slightly, she avoided their eyes, unwilling to show the lies that fleeted across her sapphire gaze. Wincing she finally glanced at Nira'lia.

"I need to dress this. Punching is a lot more damaging than just using my rapiers." She said with a smile, lifting her hand. Glancing back at Sylkra, she pulled the kelvic into a one armed hug before looking down at her sternly.

"And no more of this self-hurting business, okay? If I have to give you an order, that's my only one." Firmly, Sariana pushed her whirl-wind of emotions and feelings to the back of her mind, determined not to make the same mistake twice. Pash'nar could just...petching jump off a bridge.

Damn ethaefal. Damn men. Damn him.

[Sylkra]

Sylkra repeatedly jammed her head into the wall, unsure of it. The whole master thing, she had only had a master for, what.. Half a season? And now, what to expect, when you upset your master was something Sylkra couldn't register in her brain. She thought only physical damage was a fit enough answer.

Sylkra was about to make another swing, but immediately stopped as Sariana came in. Her words.. They sounded angry. Sylkra stopped her beating, but her tears continued on. They were less violent though, and more calm. Her breaths came out in deep rasps, and her legs shook. She had no idea what to do. It was if she had shut off, and did the first thing that hit her. 

Sylkra hugged Sariana, wrapping her long arms around Sariana. One looking at them would without a doubt laugh at the sight. Although it happened often, Sylkra and Sariana hugging, it was quite awkward, for Sylkra stood well over the height of Sariana, even though her role was he child. One could easily see that.

Sylkra always found Sariana's hugs comforting. It was something blessed. A bond of mother and daughter, seemingly belonged in their relationship. But that couldn't happen, a mere bond of slavery was here, even though it didn't look it at all.

After a long period of hugging, Sylkra departed, even though she longed to stay with Sariana forever. It brought her a feeling that could not be described through words. She quietly walked a mere couple steps, and then sat down slowly on the wooden floor. She slowly moved her hand up toyed forehead, and touched it with the tip of her fingers. 

Sylkra felt a sudden jab of pain, and a jolt of fear shuddered through her. She shrieked, and jumped right back up almost suddenly. She got curious, after the pain had receded, and reached up to her forehead, where a huge purple, blue, and black bruise was. Once again, she lightly tapped it with her fingers, and sprinted over to Nira'lia.

"Can you fix it?" she said, pointing to her wound.

[Pash'nar]

The storm was truly a beast of its own. While their voyage had so far been uneventful in terms of terrible sea monsters dredged up from the depths of the Suvan by the djed storm. Some whales, a few dolphins, and the occasional sighting of some distant, unknown beast far on the horizon in the dark had been about the extent of their dangers, which were thankfully none at all. When the rain had started, it had been innocent enough, but out in the middle of the Suvan, the storm had quickly become extreme and dangerous. Tossing the ship like a toy and threatening to rend the palivar into flotsam. The rain was cold and it stung in the fierce wind. It was hard to see, to focus on the various tasks needed to hold the ship together, when the wind howled and water sliced at your face. At night, it was obviously worse. Everything was plunged into moonless, starless darkness, save for the fluttering of a brave lantern or two. The inky sea crashed over the bilge rail and onto the deck with each toss, making crossing the palivar slippery and dangerous if one didn't have anything to hold onto. What was worse was the crew was small and tired, distracted and worried by their various issues—Kaela was nowhere to be seen in Pash'nar's casinor and the ethaefal had obviously complicated his life and the lives of others for the sake of what he had assumed was harmless entertainment. Petch. Waiting for the storm to break was agonizing. Everyone was exhausted already, clinging to the ropes to hold everything in place or struggling to steer to avoid the huge shadows of giant waves churned up by the angry weather. It just seemed to keep going. More of the same. Slipping, crashing, staring over the edge of the tilting deck into briny darkness. There was nothing to do but endure, clinging to their own thoughts, regardless of how angry they were. Pash's aching jaw reminded him of why he kept his secrets when they served him best, why he kept himself untangled from the more complicated affairs of relationships in general. Even friendships could be difficult, as the storm proved to challenge the limits of his ability to worry for people—or for his boat. Which was he more concerned about? These Svefra who called themselves his friends or his casinor somewhere out there getting just as battered by the waves? He … he wasn't sure. The coppery taste of his own blood already soured his mouth, though that had long been replaced by sea water on more than one occasion, as a few large waves had swept him off his feet and across the deck, only to leave him staring at the churning sea with wide-eyes before crawling back to his post. Mess. That's all it was. A big petching mess. The storm, at least, wasn't his fault. Was the confusion? So what if he'd kept who he was to himself? It was supposed to be easier that way. Sariana wasn't any more committal than himself, or so she claimed. He felt that perhaps she didn't entirely mean what she said, however, but he had no interest in delving deeper in to her issues. He had plenty of his own. The storm would break eventually and they'd be in Alvadas. He'd hopefully have his casinor back, some mizas in his pocket, and that would be that. Right? Petch yes. At least, that's what the statuesque shard of moonlight comforted himself with while he struggled to keep himself alive on deck with the others, unconcerned with whatever confusion continued in the hull below, warm and safe from the relentless rain.

[Gossamer]

. Character: Pash’nar Experience: Sailing +2, Persuasion +1, Leadership +2 Lore: Being Reasonable, Trying To Talk Sense Into People Character: Nira’lia Experience: Persuasion +1 Lore: Pray When There’s Nothing Else To Do, Pash’nar is an Eth, Keeping Secrets, Justifying Ones Actions, Being Locked Within Your Own Head Character: Sariana Experience: Leadership +1 Lore: Pash’nar is an Eth, Being Betrayed By Those You Trust, Running Away From Your Problems Rather Than Facing Them, Awkward Explanations, Crying At Inapropriate Times Character: Sylkra Experience: Brawling +1, Persuasion +2 Lore: Pash’nar is an Eth, Having Zero Self Control, Inflicting Wounds Upon Oneself. Additional Note: Hi Guys. Thanks for letting me read and grade this thread. I enjoyed it, although I found it a bit confusing for a reader who hadn’t had background from other threads to draw from. You might try injecting a little bit of ‘history’ when your pc reacts to something so that the reader can get whats making your PC upset or reactive a bit more than you have here. That way your stand alone threads can stand alone without being one of a series that everyone has to read the whole series to understand the full events. Otherwise, it’s a good emotional thread. There wasn’t much XP I could give, but I gave where I could along with lores. Pash’nar, I need to warn you. You are sailing a ship alone that you should have RP’d having three more sailors for. Palivar require need a crew of 4 to even be operational, and pods should have permission to have one. Anyhow, let me know if there are any issues! .