K
Kuroh
Guest
Original poster
Name: Lukas Vega
Age: 22 or 23 (he isn't entirely sure when his birthday is, so isn't sure if he's hit 23 yet)
Ship: The Winding Ghost
Face:
Age: 22 or 23 (he isn't entirely sure when his birthday is, so isn't sure if he's hit 23 yet)
Ship: The Winding Ghost
Face:
They shouldn't have kept going. It had been a bad idea all around, and every sign had pointed to a monstrous storm in the near future. For once, Captain Lukas Vega of the Winding Ghost should have listened to his smart ass of a First Mate and anchored off the coast two days before. They had already had a string of bad luck, what with the death of their most successful rat killing cat, followed by near discovery mid-smuggle, and a whole host of other minor problems that had really begun to stack up against the crew. Perhaps Lukas had been tempting fate, because what else could possibly go wrong? Clearly, those words should never have even been thought. Anders was right. This whole endeavor was a terrible idea, and everyone was going to die.
With a wry grin, he said so, loud enough that Anders could hear, and Anders alone. There was no need for anyone but the Captain and First Mate to be panicking. "We're all going to die. This storm is going to kill us all and I'm sorry I ever doubted your expertise."
"Damn right you're sorry, you daft -" his man shouted back, the howling wind whipping the end of the disrespectful commend away. Lukas let him have that one. After all, he truly was fully apologetic; well, half apologetic… Anyone could have changed his mind if they'd really cared to stop him.
From his position on the ship, Lukas stared out at the boiling tempest around them. It was black as pitch, and with the driving rain and screeching wind it was impossible to see where they were, let alone what direction they were facing. His ship was lurching, her floors creaking and moaning in time with every god forsaken wave. The Winding Ghost was a mere spec in an endless storm, being tossed about as if her sturdy hull were nothing more than a tiny raft. A few of the less sea-hardened sailors were looking green around the gills, and more than one had succumbed to a bout or two of sea-sickness.
The usually cheerful crew was silent as they worked to keep the Winding Ghost above the menacing waves, shouting only when necessary, the effort taking all of their concentration. Most words were stolen by the tempest anyways, and speaking was just a waste of much-needed energy. Unless it was an emergency, of course, like the one appearing at their starboard side all too quickly.
Lukas's string of swears was torn from his lips before anyone could hear them, not that his crew would notice or care, not when a ship near their own size was on a direct collision course with the Winding Ghost. "Ha! And you thought the sea had hit us with her worst!" he shouted, a wild look in his eyes as he shouldered his First Mate off of the wheel and gripped the slippery spokes in an attempt to steer his ship out of the path of the other. It worked to some degree, but the storm had gotten the better of them this time, and they could do nothing but stand their ground as the two ships collided.
The noise was atrocious, a splintering, groaning sound that only added to the wailing storm. Ghost shuddered, pitching aft to starboard and back again. Lukas and his crew could only prey that their ship had evaded the brunt of the damage, that this wasn't to be their last night on an Earth that had had it out for them since the start. At this point, he didn't give a damn what happened to the other ship, not when his own was at risk of falling prey to the ever hungry sea.