[aw: voyage plot] well, treat me like the sea
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: Flanders' Fields coast, CdA

Date: 7 July* (forward-dated)

Weather: Clear, windy, warm

Time: Mid-morning
Optime
Jerome, pNPC

See here for information about the trade voyage!



Vasiliy is by me!

It was a beautiful boat.

The dark-furred Russian stood on the shore and gazed out at her with adoring eyes. Though the ocean-crossing vessel that had carried him across the Atlantic dwarfed this ship in size, her construction and repairs were newer, her paint fresher, her sails neater and more tidy. Better than sails, there were oars, too, something Vasiliy sorely wished the ocean-boat had possessed. They might have sped his journey along by some weeks.

It was no use thinking of that particular ship, however, when such a lovely one was before his eyes. He itched to swim out, but he knew the boat was coming: he'd howled for Thomas to bring him over. The dark-furred wolf was now ranked higher than the other male, but Vasi hadn't used any tone of authority in his throaty howl: he was not the sort to lord over others. He saw the boat being lowered into the water, and watched as a dark figure scurried down the rope ladder and into the little rowboat.

It would be a few moments before Jerome landed the little boat, so Vasiliy rolled himself a cigarette and smoked on it, contemplating the distant ship and its pale sails. He smiled toothily, the dark tip of his tail wagging back and forth.

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#2
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000

OOC goes here.


It was a bit scary, going on this trip. Dalgina knew she was old enough, and was eager to help the pack. Going north was still a bit frightening. The black female had gathered various papers, along with her art supplies and jewelry. The entire thing had found itself stuffed into a bag rather untidily, pieces of it sticking out and occasionally falling out behind her. Dalgina didn't notice, occupied as she was with what she was heading out for. This was more Keldava's style than her own, but the chance to go out on the water again had her there.

Her tail wagged as she saw Vasily standing there, looking rather pleased with himself as a boat rowed over in the distance. Scurrying up Dalgina stood slightly behind him, small form dwarfed by the large male. Brown eyes studied the boat, taking in the details. It was well cared for, every inch of the boat prepped and prepared for anything that would be needed. It glistened in the sun, the sheets of white ready to catch the wind and carry them out. She hoped she wouldn't be alone in this. Maybe someone else she knew would show up as well. Talking to Vasily on her own was intimidating. A cry from above caught Dalgina's attention. A broad smile broke out as Tehu landed on her shoulder. I'm coming. He declared it so intently Dalgina had to agree, petting his feathers. It was easier with him at his side, ready to protect her.


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#3
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(318) Unsuspecting Robert is unsuspecting. >Big Grin

Robert guessed it was a good thing that they has decided to use the boat after a long while. He could hardly remember the last time it had been used, in fact he was not even sure if it had been used at all. Nonetheless, he made himself sleep for once the night before so that he could awake early. He got dressed in his best clothes since he was going to be around people, which was his usual attire, and gathered the things he would be giving to the crew to give to whoever they wanted.

A couple of books were tucked under one arm, while the other cradled papers, quills, ink, pencils, you name it. He admittedly knew that he really did not do much for the pack, so he guessed giving away things he considered important to him would keep him in good standings with his mother and leader. Other than that, he wanted nothing to do with the voyage or its sailors. He had not even consider going; the idea of him going with them was too far fetched, and even laughable. To be in the middle of the bay surrounded by strangers and heading off to some unknown place? Forget about it. He'd rather sleep out in the woods, with who knows what crawling all over the place, waiting for him to let his guard down.

With his clutter of items in tow, he approached where who seemed to be the man in charge of the whole ordeal, and adjusting the grip on his objects, asked, "Excuse me, but where do we place the items that we are trading at?" He tried to sound friendly, but it came out as a more hurried tone, as if he was impatient. Truly, he felt he couldn't get away from this place fast enough, but wasn't aware that he could be misinterrupted by the dark male.

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#4
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this post is exceedingly random; someone pm me if i need to change anything


The stench of brine, rocking waves, cramped quarters—ships and voyages were a nightmare to the Turkish man. Only recently had he been able to stare at the ocean itself without feeling sick to his stomach, so that he was even considering joining his fellow d’Artisans on the short trip was insanity.

Cream fingers twitched nervously at his side, his other hand occupied by a piece of paper, a blurry list scrawled across it with Turkish scribbling in the margin. He stood and stared at the beautiful boat as it was brought closer to shore, only barely stopping himself from balling up the paper with his anxiety. However, a paw rested against his leg, and the tomcat stretched himself up so he could nuzzle his friend’s dangling hand. He answered in kind, scratching gently behind the cat’s white ears, and smiled.

Wilson had been the one to truly convince him, mentioning a single word: home. What home meant had changed for Levent over the months—once, it was Istanbul, and then various inns along the road, and London, and the cottage outside Freetown, and his hut in Cercatori d’Arte. Wilson had been the only constant he could affix the description of “home” to, but he knew Wilson was thinking of the old trade routes, the Eurasian cities far more developed than in Nova Scotia. Maybe he was thinking about London specifically, their old haunt as teenagers. Levent had convinced himself that he would never see England or Turkey again just because he did not think he could survive another voyage by sea.

Baby steps—even if these steps were huge for the merchant. He swallowed, glancing down at the list in his hand. He’d written down some of the items he intended to bring with him, although he knew today only the over-achievers were prepared to load the boat. Over the next couple of days d’Arte’s ship would be loaded, until the day they set sail across the Bay of Fundy.

Consequently, the day he’d most likely die of a blasted heart attack.

Levent steeled himself and strode toward the others. He recognized them all by name and face, even if he couldn’t remember meeting them personally. He could already tell he liked Vasiliy (man had good taste) and the dark she-wolf (who had a pretty kestrel) and—well, he recognized the scent of the third, a well-dressed young male with a bunch of books under his arm.

“Let me help you with that, kitap kurdu,” Levent said smoothly, slinking toward the brown male and attempting to pull his books out from under his arm. He flashed a very outgoing grin at the Russian while doing this, even if Vasiliy was the source of all Lev’s current boat problems. Meanwhile, Wilson practically wrapped himself around his luperci companion’s leg, sandy eyes staring cautiously at the bird of prey.


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#5
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(--) Whoever can make Jerome land the rowboat in their post, yes? Big Grin Don't matter to meee. Also, assuming Vasi at least knows Robert and Levent by name? I think they all participated in the ball thing together, no? If not, let me know and I'll edit.



Vasiliy is by me!

Smoke curled from his muzzle and up into the air. Vasi watched it dissipate, bright blue eyes following the wisps and trails of the smoke before they vanished altogether, invisible against the brightness of the sky. He soon had companions: the first to arrive, he saw upon turning his gaze from the lovely sight of the boat on the bay, was Dalgina. He grinned broadly at her and tipped his head in a nod, though he said little enough. He hadn't spent much time around the dark-hued woman, but he knew she was a quieter sort. The bird that came down from the sky, on the other hand, was a surprise. He appraised its sleek body and fierce beak appreciatively before turning at the noise of another arrival -- two, in fact.

Ah, he murmured, tail swinging in a wag. Some were bringing things already -- which was good, as Vasi saw it, for he had little enough of his own to offer for trade. He was hopeful the communal stocks would provide the bulk of things for trade, but that others had already decided to begin packing their things aboard the boat was most certainly a hopeful sign. He stubbed his cigarette out and put the little bit in its accustomed place. Good to see all Cercatori helps, he said, stepping back so he might address all of them together. The dusky-furred wolf was not used to being in such a position, but he would adjust quickly, as always.

Today, I am look at boat. And, he paused, meaningfully, we bring some things aboard. Glancing back toward the still-approaching Jerome, the Russian smiled. Does this boat have name? he inquired, looking from one face to the other.

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#6
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000

OOC goes here.


Dalgina stroked Tehu's feathers, proud of his presence. Okay. She'd love it if he came along. He was her protector, her closest friend. Tehu closed his eyes under the affection, preening himself. She smiled up at Vasily a little shyly, watching the rowboat come in. They'd be packing up onto it soon. Dalgina didn't have anything more than the drawings she cradled with her. It would have to do for her to donate.

She looked over as Robert arrived, his tone rather hurried. Ears laid back at the sharp tone, wondering why he was upset if he was offering items. Someone she didn't know arrived as well then, this one infinitely more cheerful. She looked down at the white cat curiously, Tehu's eyes opening and peering down pridefully. He clearly thought himself superior to the smaller land bound mammal. Dalgina didn't know much about the boat, watching as it touched down on the shore and was pulled up. She just shook her head, unable to give an answer.


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#7
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(377) I can't believe Lev called Rob a bookworm. >:|

The only other he recognized was the girl whom he had drew with the other day, and besides Dalgina, everyone else was much unfamiliar to them. But, at least their scent and faces were striking a faint string in his memory. He had been focused to be with them along with all of Casa at the ball, but atlas, he did not commit their names to mind. He was about as lost as ever, and would be happy to relieve his books as soon as possible to return to his quiet and peaceful home.

He felt a sudden presence near him, and turned to see a short male like him with a curious headband and a cat similar to Ester's bunch, though this white tom seemed more intelligent and had a will of his own. His thick accent was foreign to Robert, stranger to him than the Russian's, and it distracted him as he pulled some of his books away from him. He wondered what was a kitap kurdu was, but he could only guess it was not an insult, or at least hope it was not. He noticed that the Turk had took some of his belongings when he realized what he had said after pondering his accent, and wanted to ask for them back. But, he decided it was too late, and gave a stiff nod of thanks.

He looked back to the dark sea man as he spoke again, this time with a question. The wolf had poor grammar, but the Collins decided not to address it. "I do not know, actually. I believe it is unnamed." He was not really involved when the boat was built, and though he knew of its existence, he did not bother to learn much about it. Yet, he did not recall anyone calling it by name. It was just "the" boat whenever he talked about it.

The suddenly crunching of sand suddenly pulled his frost-colored gaze away from the distant ship to the small rowboat that a male had landed seconds ago, and sighed in relief. Maybe this was where he could place his items and get on with his own business. He looked questioningly at Vasiliy, awaiting further instruction on what to do with the objects.

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#8
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(--) Only moving it along because Raze be on vacataion. Sorry Raze, jump back in at any time dearest and let me know if this needs changing. Assumed Lev just remained quiet. :3



Vasiliy is by me!

The Russo family had only a few boats. Vasiliy had served the most time aboard the Dvina, the heavy and old galley, but he knew the Korolevya, too. Even the Zaria's name was known to him, though that particular ship had met the ocean floor before his birth. He was astonished as Dalgina shook her head, the black-haired man remained silent, and Robert spoke. Vasi's ears and then his head swiveled toward Jerome as he landed the little rowboat and dragged it halfway onto the beach. The wolf strode over to them, and as he did, Vasi smiled. These tell me -- this boat has no name. Jerome, is this true? the Russian asked, his voice fraught with concern. Jerome only nodded, looking at Vasiliy curiously. The Russian sucked in a breath and shook his head, spreading his hands wide.

All good boats must have name. Bad luck to sail nameless ships, he advised, even as he waved his hand and started heading over toward the rowboat. We will think of something, yeah? Though his tone was merry, Vasi was rather concerned with the idea that he might be setting sail on a nameless boat. They must fix this -- it was as important as making sure the vessel was worthy of carrying the pack and its goods northward. Ideas? he asked, putting a hand on the side of the rowboat as he turned toward his companions with a grin. If no, I give Russian name, and you all cough and squeak when you say, he warned, dark muzzle grinning broadly with this jest.

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#9
Vasily seemed awfully concerned with the name of the boat. Not a sailor herself, Dalgina looked at him curiously. His expression was alight as he spoke, hands animated as he addressed the concern. Jerome agreed that the boat was nameless, a fact that meant little to Dalgina. She just thought of it as The Ship. Vasily's words explained his concern. Bad luck was something Dalgina understood. Nodding her head she looked at the ship, wondering how one went about naming a boat. Was it like naming a horse, or a bird? She wasn't sure.

Dalgina giggled at the jest, continuing to ponder what they could call it. We could name it Sailor. Or Wander. Or Neela. She liked that last one, naming the ship after her friend. Neela had taken her out on a boat for the first time, giving her her first taste of the wonders of the sea. It was sure to fit the boat wonderfully, and fill it with amazing care as they sailed across to the unknown lands. It'd give Dalgina some courage as well, feeling that her friend was there.
#10
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I'm back from vacaaaay!


The red robin male only nodded when the books were pried from underneath his arms, and Levent bestowed another grin upon him while he, perhaps not so subtly, glanced at the covers of the tomes and leafed a bit through their pages. It was only when Vasiliy spoke that he looked up again, tail waving idly behind him as if he wasn’t dreading this voyage the Russian had dreamed up. A short speech of sorts was given, at which point Lev wondered if he sounded so foreign when he spoke, and then the question of the elegant ship’s name was up in the air.

The Turkish man offered a very helpful shrug in addition to the other’s negatives, and Vasiliy prattled on about the importance of a name—although what’s the point if it’s going to kill me anyway? So I have a specific word to curse at when I go under? The joke made him crack a grin, though, one a lot more genuine than the constant simpering front he usually presented to the pack.

“Or a Turkish one,” Levent suggested. “Maybe more squeaking.” He folded his hands behind his back—somehow managing to balance the books he still held—and refrained from coming up with a title such as The Dread or Turk’s Coffin or Lady Nope.

He was politely quiet as the dark girl offered her simple names, the female one at the end causing his ears to prick up as he wondered about its meaning, and mulled over further options. He waited a moment, scratching at his jaw while eyeing the shark-grey wolf’s beard, with his cat sitting at his feet.

“I was involved with this prostitute named Nazario in La Spezia, and his girlfriend—” He realized what he was saying and coughed. “Well—Cercatori means ‘seekers,’ doesn’t it? Why don’t we name the boat Seeker? Or something a bit fancier, so it actually says what we’re seeking, although Tradeseeker might be far too obvious.” He pretended Wilson wasn’t laughing at him.



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