[Patchwork Port]A Most Amusing Arrival(Open)

by **Shkara** on November 5th, 2011, 7:10 pm

Timestamp: Fall 62, 511 AV
Location: The Patchwork Port
Who: Anyone in Alvadas
Status: Open

Shkara was not made for the ocean. She didn't think it would be so bad, after all she had been on a few smaller boats on the tributaries in Ahnatep. But this was different. This was absolutely horrid. She may have convinced one of the least ugly of the sailors to get her on board, but he never warned her of the... inconveniences. Like that every single bunk smelled like old mold sweat and frankly, also smelled like ass. It was absolutely dreadful. Being the seductress she is, she had been used to sleeping in really nice men who had fallen easily for her charms. This time, however, she was grateful to not be sharing for the men smelled worse than their bunks.

And that was all before the boat started moving. When that giant death trap started rocking and swaying, Shkara lost her lunch before Ahnatep was even out of sight. She would miss the idea of her hometown, but wouldn't miss the realities. She wouldn't change her ways, but she could find a more appropriate setting. She knew this boat was heading to a town called Alvadas but she knew very little about it. Learn by doing, something her parents had tried to teach her. Maybe the lesson would kick in now.

And the first lesson would be laundry. The captain quickly found out she was there for free. So he gave her a choice. Work for her stay, or be marooned on the nearest coastline. And that's how she ended up in the bottom of the ship, with two large vats of water, a barrel of soap, and a giant pile of rank clothes. She had a wooden washboard that she'd never used before. The normal laundry lady was very heavily pregnant, so she was supervising over Shkara's cleaning. Shkara would add the soap to one vat of water, then grab the first nasty piece of garment, and dunk it in. Her face was one of disgust, as she pulled the garment out, squeezed water out of it, not seemingly any better. As the laundry lady advised, she began rubbing it against the washboard. That is until she received a sharp rap on the head. "Scrub it hard girl! The water doesn't clean it by itself!" Back in Ahnatep, Shkara would have vowed some form of revenge on the woman, probably by convincing her man to leave her, then snub him away. But since she was here, she decided to take out her anger and frustration on the clothing. She ground that shirt or whatever it was, hard into the washboard, pretending it was that pregnant wench's face. "Much better girlie! We will make you useful yet!"

Fifty long days later, her hands were a bit rougher, her demeanor at an all time low, her stomach longing for real food, when they docked at the Patchwork Port. She looked like ghast of a woman, stepping off the ship onto the ramp to the dock. The man she tricked into bringing her on came up behind her and slapped her hard in the rear. "Want help looking around laundry lady? After all, I did bring you here like promised." He sounded overly hopeful, after all, Shkara was over fifty days of being deprived of a man's touch, but this slob would not be the oasis in her desert. She wrinkled her nose, despite not smelling anything, "Thanks for the ride, but I'll take it from here. Though it looks like your laundry still needs down." And with that she bumped her hip against his, causing him to fall off the ramp. He fell a few feet into the waters, and came back up quickly. But he wasn't cursing her, he had a giant grin on his face. "If that's what it takes to get you wet, I'll take it! We will be in town for a few days if you change your mind!" She was slightly complimented at his comment, so she blew him a kiss and departed with a wink.

Walking down the dock, the port seemed a bit disappointing. Ragtag wood made up everything, and nothing matched. It seemed the only thing consistent here was the inconsistency. Oh well, she was in Alvadas now. Time to find a meal, a real meal. She started toward what seemed like the street leading away from the port. It was lined with what looked like storefronts. Surely one of them would have something hot to eat. She was carrying her satchel from her shoulder when her arm band slipped loose from her arm, and fell to the ground. She quickly snatched it up before a thief could. She slipped it back onto her arm and started toward the... The road that wasn't there any more. She cocked her head slightly to the right as she stared at it, at a loss for words. She was sure there was a road there, with shops and the like. She looked around and now didn't see any roads. She continued staring around, hopelessly lost, trying to figure out where her possible hot food disappeared to. Many people passed by her quickly, all off in random directions, many of them staring at her, giggling. Was it the four arms? Or the fact that she hadn't done her makeup, hair, or had a proper meal for fifty days? She was about to follow the next person that passed her when she bumped into someone. "Sorry, excuse me..."

Skills :

by **Miro** on November 7th, 2011, 3:59 am

"The Colosseum? Nope, not today. Maybe it is time to go check out the temple? Lame, there is never anybody there!" The locations would bore Miro rather quickly. It seemed even the most interesting city was only a city after all. The people however were a different story altogether. Bones and Grim who could transform into a snake form. Pavani with her scales. Nowa could become a raven. Even normal people like Kinneas had divine gifts and skills. It was just a shame Miro was so plain. He envied the gifts other people had been blessed with greatly. More often than he would admit, he found himself scanning the city for his obsession of the day.

Miro followed his intuition all over the city. "Nobody here, nobody there. Why must this city torment me like this?" Several locations, zero things worth noting. Miro dropped down against a wall. He pressed his knees to his chest and looked down at his feet on the floor. Humming he took his nail and poked at the dusty ground. His nail made a loud scratching noise as he scraped downwards. He begin to draw a picture. A face with long hair, big eyes and a a smile. Before he could finish it a gust of wind came through and swept it away. All he could do was let out a long drawn out sigh. Nothing was going his way. "Well, if every day is exciting nothing is excited. There is only so much that is new in life. Before long nothing will be new. Curiosity only lasts so long I suppose."

Miro brushed his hair back up out of his face and lifted his head. "Uh oh..." He gazed out into a vast body of water with ships lining them. The docks, it was a new sight for Miro. A new sight, how refreshing. The port reeked of hard labor and excessive masculinity. Miro felt oddly out of place, but more intrigued than repulsed. Miro walked with his chin high among the many strong men. They each looked formidable in a fight, or to have around for manual labor, but little else. He did not get the impression he was surrounded by the brightest mind in the city, but that too was refreshing. He wandered along, seeing the many people move about until something caught his eye. A gold shimmer fell to the floor. Miro walked as quickly as he could toward it. A woman picked it up and placed it on her arm. He continued towards her, a bit confused at what he thought he saw. Several people moved between them obscuring his view of her. "Fate, folly or forgotten, there is something new here. It seems that I have still more to see." Miro ran pushing people out of his way until he was standing right before her. His eyes looked down to catch sight of her when somebody had pushed him hard.

The hands landed on his shoulders and forced him forward. His light body was thrust onto the woman he had been admiring, hitting her in the shoulder. Miro caught himself with his palms. The sting of the ground made him wince in pain. "Okay, I prolly deserved that for being rude..." Miro stood and turned towards the large man. He grinned down at him with rotted yellow teeth. His large arms were crossed and covered in tattoos. His clothes were tattered and stained. He reeked as if bathing were fatal. As he spoke his breathe stung Miro's nose harder than the ground had. "Warch war yar going, ya brat!" The man reached out and shoved Miro again, causing him to stagger back. "Fight it Miro. FIGHT IT. Don't cause a scene." Miro closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead to fight the incoming rage. "What the matter brat, scared?" "No, no scene. This will be over quick." Miro drew his all of his power into his right arm. He drained all of the rage and hate into his fist. He pumped his muscles full of djed that raged in and his eyes boiled towards a muddied red color. With his fist charged hard with the Flux, Miro looked up with his fist clenched.

All he saw was those yellow teeth in that horrid grin. He couldn't contain it anymore, the rage was boiling out. Miro launched his fist hard into the mans gut, digging it deep in. He hobbled forward falling to his knees holding his gut in agony. Miro turned away instantly in regret. "Damn it! It always gets the better of me. Curse him for making me so angry." Miro looked around now, hoping to catch sight of the woman that he had sought out before. He hoped she hadn't run, but who would blame her after seeing a display like that. Under his breath he spoke, if only to himself. "Excuse me, I am sorry too."