Castaways and Cutouts

[AW]

POSTED: Wed Apr 12, 2017 2:36 pm

Word Count → 429 :: Come meet Merik! Optime form.

It happened fast. Before the crew of the Scarab could react, waves were breaching over the vessel's wooden hull. No one had expected a squall this far north, but all expectations went through the window at sea. The men aboard were at the mercy of an unpredictable ocean, or rather, the will of the Gods. It was midday, but sky had a dusky dark quality to it and it rained in such a way that the ocean and the air above it were indistinguishable from each other. The air inside the hull seemed to vibrate and boat bowed in ways that defied all prior experience. There was shouting on the deck, and beneath, there were tender muttered prayers.

Beneath the deck there was a room with a table with maps strewn about its surface. At its end stood Merik with a hand on each corner to keep balance as the ship leaned at hard 45 degree angle. At his back and against the wall sat the four stone tablets he had sworn to transport. They had blown far off course, further than the map accounted for. All was lost.

There was more shouting from the deck, but it was interspaced with something else -- the sharp cracking of wood. Merik left his chambers and climbed out onto the deck and into the rain. Fear flashed in Merik's eyes as lightning streaked across the sky. He could see that the main mast snapped at the base and it threatened to drag the boat asunder with the next set of waves. The Scarab leaned heavily against the weight of the fallen mast. Two men had already fallen from the deck into the churning sea below. Three other crew members struggled to save them, but it was no avail, for the Scarab was wracked with yet another wave.

As she capsized into the water, the bow broke in half. Those caught beneath the deck were sealed in their watery tomb. Merik and the rest of the crew on the deck were thrown into the frigid water. The rest was a blur. Somehow, he managed to cling to some refuse from the wreck. He held on for dear life.

* * *

Upon the shore the bodies lay. The gulls gathered to peck and prod at the dead as the sun finally peaked out from behind the dark clouds. It was early evening now, and the storm returned to the nothing from which it came. Merik lay among the dead, yet unlike the others who's chests were stilled by death, he drew shallow breath.

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Ryan
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POSTED: Wed Apr 12, 2017 11:56 pm

WORD COUNT: 592
I AM ALSO A NOOB PLS FORGIVE THE NON-HTML LAYOUT

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Rocks and pebbles rippled underneath the mutt's paws as he dug into the earth, trying to gain traction in order to climb the rocky hills that surrounded the ocean. He could hear the tidal waves break upon the beach just ahead, but he was still too far to see it. The smell of salt clung to his coat, the heat from his body turning he air around him into a humid mess; he was panting with the exertion it caused him. Under normal circumstances, a trek like this one wouldn't make much of a difference on his stamina, but he was currently in a bind; he hadn't been able to catch anything to eat for two days. It was starting to turn into a desperate search for running water. He vaguely remembered how to break shellfish open and eat the innards -- images of his father scolding him as he did so would be forever burned in his memories -- so,for now, that would have to do. Luckily, the water smelled fresh and rather untouched, which meant the clams would be edible. His mouth watered at the thought.

Finally clearing the small wash, Attila was able to set his golden eyes on the horizon before him. It was rather pretty, the moonlight flickering along the coastline (the sun had set hours before, though he wasn't sure how long it had been as he hadn't been paying attention) and it kissed the waves with a gentleness Attila could only dream of mimicking. For a moment, he watched the ocean attempt to kiss back, it's fervent waves toiling high in an effort to reach the moon. He exhaled, white mist flowing from his nostrils briefly in the cooler night air. Attila took a step forward, his feet sinking only slightly into the stony surface by the ocean.

After what seemed like a moment of thought, he pressed onward, his tail lifted high and his ears perked above his head, listening for any sign of danger. As he reached the shore's edge, he let the waves of the ocean lick across his paws, cooling the hot pads and softening the fur that was packed so tightly between his toes.

Just as he was about to push into the water, Attila happened to look to his right, and what he saw made him falter. His tail fell and his mouth closed, his nose twitching with sudden wariness. There had been a wreckage. A bad one. After some debate with his more harsh inner-self, he bounded towards the carnage, hoping there weren't too many casualties.

As he arrived, he called out, breathless, "Hello?" His baritone of a voice echoed in the emptiness of the ship, it's hull standing massively in front of him. He began to search, rather frantically - and he began to find the bodies. One by one they came to him, reeking already with mildew and the stench of death. His nose lifted in disgust and disappointment as he found them, his eyes rather sad but his face giving away nothing; stoicism was his natural state, and he preferred to stay that way.

As he walked up to the one who would soon be known as Merik, he almost laughed with relief; the dog was still breathing.

He began to nudge and paw the canine, rather frustrated that he couldn't use his thumbs. However, he preferred his Secui form, and this would be his price to pay. The hybrid barked frantically, an effort to jolt the man awake.

He was no healer, that was for sure.
" W A T C H T H E T E M P L E"
A T T I L A
" T O P P L E O V E R "
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Wolfdog
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Maria

POSTED: Thu Apr 13, 2017 9:52 pm

Word Count → 309 :: No worries! I'm not big on Html tables. Simple and clean > Busy busy busy. Oh, and I should probably mention, the ship split in half and sank to the bottom of the ocean. The only things that would have washed ashore would be the bodies of those on deck the moment it capsized and some assorted debris.

Merik lay along the shore for an undermined amount of time, undisturbed by all things. Even the birds, who were content to feast upon the dead, avoided him in favor of the cadavers. The men who once served under his command. The evening turned into night and the tide had receded fully, leaving a long stretch of beach to be illuminated by the pale moonlight. It was a beautiful and mild night, though this was lost of Merik who now lay facedown in the sand, in shock and clinging still to a splintered piece of wood that was once a part of The Scarab's hull. His body and mind were primed for survival. If anything, he felt one thing. Cold. The cloak he wore was waterlogged and heavy, clinging to his fur like a soggy cocoon -- and it was so, so cold.

And then, there was a voice. Merik stirred. An arm moved slightly and his fingers dug deep into the sand as if he were trying to claw his way forward. His eyes opened into narrow slits and they stung from the salt. He could barely make out the blurry figure of another approaching. The seculi stranger poked and prodded, like a child would when met with a dead body and a sizable stick. Poke. Poke. Poke.

Merik reached for the stranger's paw and he grabbed hold, a glint of gold around his wrist flashed in the moonlight from under his cloak. The other arm still tightly hugged the wooden slab that had saved his life. "My men," he sputtered. "What of my men?" He thought first of those who followed him. There were still many other questions that burned in his mind. Most notably, where is this? That question could wait until after learning the fate of his crew.

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Ryan
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Apr 19, 2017 8:09 pm

WORD COUNT: 266
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Attila was startled backward as the stranger awoke from his death-like slumber. Hurriedly, the Secui pushed backward with his legs, his hackles raising with his nerves and a high pitched bark exiting from his mouth. Sand and rock sprayed everywhere from his violent movements, panic making his icy blue eyes widen immensely. "What the hell?!?" he blurted, his upper lip raising with frustration as his heart rate slowed. He hated being surprised; the tingly feeling he got in his chest was a less than desirable feeling.

But, the guy was half dead. He couldn't get too mad -- so, he sucked it up, and came back, his footsteps hesitant upon the soft earth. As the panicked man came to, he asked about his men, causing Attila's ears to go flat upon his head and his eye to cast down to the earth at his feet. Pangs of guilt tugged at his heart strings as he gazed upon the fellow -- what was a captain without his crew? How could he tell him? This man that he hardly knew, how could Attila tell him that they had perished?

"Your men.... they..." His baritone voice was a murmur, now - a very large contrast to the deep growl that he had used earlier. "They're gone. They've been washed up on the beach; there was nothing I could do." His words tasted bitter on his tongue, and he found it hard to make eye contact once more . He was sure there was nothing he could have done; the sickly sweet smell that they gave off was enough to convince him of it.
" W A T C H T H E T E M P L E"
A T T I L A
" T O P P L E O V E R "
Loners
Wolfdog
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Maria

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