Pahn

Badass Bitch
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Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.

Pahn

Badass Bitch
Original poster
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.


Two weeks had passed already since the captain of the Burnt Hands had sent the few remaining members of his crew to hang up the recruitment posters. None of the recruited privateers were aware of how or why they had been hired, as there had not been any interviews or even a test of their skills. Yet, they'd received sealed letters, addressed to them personally, letting them know they were allowed on board. Should they attempt to bring anyone with them, the First Mate on the docks would block their access to the ship. Presentation of their letter was required to prove their identity, as one was never too cautious in a place such as Oshanlenor.

Near the docks, a crass tavern roared with laughter and song, the music shamelessly bleeding through the walls loud enough to keep half the neighbourhood awake. Ale flowed and the current members of the Burnt Hands drank like it was their last night in port - which it was. The barkeep had a sour look on his face as the tabs of the pirates accumulated to a ridiculous amount, but before he could wrap his thick fingers around one of their throats, Captain Draynor Wynmaris caught his eye.

"Ey ey now, friend! You know we always pay our dues." The dark elf's striking blue eyes glinted in the dim light, and a chuckle bubbled in his throat when he noticed the barkeep grit his teeth. "We brought you this crowd, didn't we?" He gestured towards the full tavern and the three different musicians battling the spotlight on the little stage in the corner of the room.

"Half, tonight." The words came through a tight jaw and very reluctantly, but it was clear the man knew it was a lost battle to try and force the pirates to pay their entire tab now. The Burnt Hands always brought him a rowdy and thirsty crowd whenever they were celebrating their last night in port, and both he and Captain Draynor knew it was a large part of the tavern's profits throughout the year.

"Excellent, my dear." Without asking how much they owed, Draynor dropped a bag with coins on the counter and nodded with a wink at the barkeep. A high-pitched whistle broke through the music and hubbub, and a handful of patrons took the last swig of their drink and headed out without even a last look at those around them. Draynor smirked and finished his own drink in one swallow before melting into the crowd as he followed those who were leaving.

It was going to be a most interesting night aboard the Wretched Siren.


"Hmm." The low hum broke the silence on the docks, quiet waves whispering against the used wood in a peaceful melody. Elanso Zagi fiddled with an owl pendant, fingers stroking the golden feathers, as she waited patiently. One quick look at the clear sky and the corners of her lips twitched into a small smile. It's almost time. The Wretched Siren waited a hundred feet away from her position, rocking in the night with the moon shining a favourable light on the intricate details of the siren's scales. Captain Draynor had grinned confidently when she'd left the ship, assuring the crew-mates that it was a sure sign that Zainth's holy light had been cast upon them and was thus blessing their journey. Elanso had never held much faith in the gods, but seeing the others relax at the Captain's statement certainly was a good omen. Now, it was mostly a question of whether their new crew members would behave and fall in line with the current crew-mates.

It was finally nearing midnight and the month of Likun was coming to an end. The First Mate wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but the air almost felt like it smelled sweeter, and the breeze picked up to carry over an earthy smell they'd be missing for the next few months. As she breathed in the scent of Mirgho's Harbor, Elanso caught some movement in the distance. "Ahh, here we go." Her smile widened and her hand quickly went to hover on the handle of the dagger at her waist. One was never too cautious, especially in the middle of the night on the docks most commonly frequented by ruthless pirates and slavers.
 

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
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Slow As Molasses
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Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

*

Once again, Ayameri unfolded the letter she had received, amber eyes flitting over the words written, using the moon as her source of light in the night. Yes, it really was addressed to her; there was no mistaking her name. Ayameri was there, and so was Astari. She took in a deep breath, quickly reread it, and then breathed out, letting her twitching mouth extend into a smile. Zainth had accepted her prayers once again.

Carefully folding the letter and tucking it under her belt, Ayameri looked in the direction of the docks, eyes settling on the ship that would now be her future home, hopefully for a longer time than the previous ship she had embarked. "Well then, here we go." It wasn't like her to dawdle due to being nervous, and truth be told, she was more excited than anything else. The prospect of adventure and a proper pay overshadowed and pushed away any reminder of her last sea voyage.

After a failed attempt to pat down her rebellious copper curls, she started for her destination, the spring in her step and glimmer in her eyes only increasing as she neared the docks, until at last she stood before the dark skinned elf known as Elanso.

"Good evening," she called out, voice as cheerful as a breeze on a sunny day. "Ayameri Astari here, but you can call me Aya. It's easier to remember. Not that Ayameri's very hard or anything, but just, Aya's so much simpler, you know?" She grinned at Elanso before blinking. "Oh! How did I forget? Here, look, I was sent this!" Pulling the letter from her under her belt, she unfolded it and pressed it flat against herself, presenting it to the First Mate once she was done pressing out the wrinkles.

She received no reply, but a pleasant smile and a motion towards the ship was enough to tell Aya she was being allowed on board.

"Thank you truly!" Returning the smile with a yet another grin, she wasted no time in heading up the gangplank and stepping onto the Wretched Siren. Not caring if anyone else was there to witness her silliness, she lifted her arms up and threw back her head, as if embracing the world at large.

"At last," she murmured to herself. "Thank you, Zainth." Letting her arms drop to her side, she debated heading down to the cabins before changing her mind, deciding it would be much more fun and enlightening to remain on the main deck and see who else would be joining the crew.

 
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Nemopedia

Chaotic Lawful
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
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Slow As Molasses
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GMT +1/2 | CET/CEST | Random, mostly on my phone
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Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
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No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both, depending how much there is going on already.
Favorite Genres
Tragedy, Psychological, Historical, Steampunk, Mystery, Thriller, Sci-fi, see tag list for more...
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance
Sail; Oregano; Biryani;

Rudesind Pyr
art by: TheMinttu from DeviantArt
The holy light of Zainth comforted him in the choice made. With the roll of parchment in hands Rude strolled down the dock, slightly swaying on his legs because of the drunken stupor he was in. The land was too vast and steady for the tiefling, driving him crazy in the little time he had boarded off his last ship. Old he may be, but Rude knew no better way to live his life than on the sea, so apply he did as soon as he saw the notice.

Yet, despite his intentions for proper introductions and good impressions the man had drunk himself wasted once more. Midnight was much too far ahead for Rude not to give into the temptation of liquor.

“It’s Rude. Rude, understood?” he slurred at the mate waiting in front the board. Waving around his parchment the tiefling growled, annoyance already flaring up at the memory of reading his full name being used there. Though, honestly it was his own fault for applying with his full name.

“Rude,” he continued to gruff at himself when the female didn’t answer, making his way onto board where he met another recruit.

Judging from her pointy ears Rude knew her to be an elf, earning thus a snarl in acknowledgment before he turned his back at her. It was too early to dislike people, and the tiefling was by no means deciding there and then if he liked or disliked her, but Rude being generally… well, rude really had no other default greeting but to grunt.

“It’s gonna be windy, lass,” he suddenly spoke, finding the need to say something at least and try to get along. Who knew how much it depended on likability, on which the tiefling always lost out on. Grabbing hold of the flash at his hip the tiefling tried to drink a gulp, only to find it empty. “Better go down the cabins, wrap y’self up,” he smacked his lips smoothing out over the earlier (hopefully unnoticed) mishap.

It was well-meant advice, but dressed with much chagrin. Even Rude knew his execution was lacking.
 
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Holmishire

Ghost with no home.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
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One Post a Week
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Late night PST
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Intermediate, Advanced
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Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive > Aggressive, but a mix.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic, Superpower'd, and some Sci-Fi.
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything heavily sexualized or silly. I tend to avoid hard sci-fi, horror, and slice-of-life roleplays.
Figsi "Fig" Skelder
Holmishire Holmishire .

Two figures—both short, one stout—stood arm in arm on the docks, conversing. The slosh of salt-water afforded them some privacy, washing away what words they spoke in this cool night, but doing little to mask the nature of the pair: a dispirited father wishing goodbye to his dear daughter. Finally, the two embraced and Figsi rose up on her tiptoes to plant a peck on his brow before splitting off.

It would be easy to mistake the girl for a child in dwarf-deficient Oshanlenor, but she would not let it break her stride: Figsi held her head high, the silver markings beneath her left eye flashing in the moonlight. A heavy pack was slung across her back, filled with vestments, instruments, and the occasional keepsake—all together, it was almost as tall as the dwarf carrying it.

As she pulled level with the elven woman, she pulled out a thin sheet of parchment and presented it silently. Elanso motioned for her to pass, and so she took one last look behind her.

In all this time, her father had not moved an inch, though Figsi noted with some relief that his expression had shifted to one of pride. Good—another sad look and she might not have been able to resist running back to cheer her old man right back up. With a final reciprocated wave, she marched up to the Wretched Siren and boarded.

Two unfamiliar figures stood there to greet her: a red-headed elf, and a somewhat more intimidating red-tinged tiefling. Noting the latter's notable lack of sobriety and seemingly empty flask, she pulled out a waterskin of her own and bumped it lightly against his hand. A soft voice would follow the gesture shortly: "Thirsty, big guy?"
[/hr]
 

Turtle of Doom

The Monster Under Your Bed
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
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Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
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Either works for me. And would prefer if the story was gently led by all participating parties.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Magical, Romance, Dystopian, Religious, Post-Apocalyptic, Zombies (but the plot has to consist of more than just mindlessly murdering the undead), Steampunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi, Furry, Incest
Ophelia Eonslight



Ophelia sighed as she removed her pillow from the bed and retrieved her letter. She’d only received recently, but by the looks of the paper it had been heavily used since then. The creases had thinned, making the words that fell on those lines hard to read, but still she unfolded the piece of parchment and read it again.

The words couldn’t be real. It had to be a joke of some kind. Someone was being cruel, probably, because Ophelia was having trouble believing that out of all the applicants they must have had that they would choose her.

Her fingers trembled as she folded the letter once more and this time tucked it into her belt. Real or not, she’d never find out for sure if she didn’t go. So, she took her time packing the few belongings that she figured she need for the journey and topped off her pack with her favorite book, hoping that she’d have some sort of downtime.

Finally done packing, Ophelia said a silent goodbye to her home and set off across the harbor. It was a decent night. A nice breeze blowing in off the water. It was a good night to start a new adventure. A figure appeared in the distance, and Ophelia oriented on it. Moving closer she could see it was a rather short elf. Assuming this was the person who’d been set about to greet the newcomers and usher them aboard the ship, she picked up her speed.

Hello,” she said rather quietly not sure how to address the woman. “I assume I must present this to you?” She untucked the letter from her belt and gave it one last hopeful glance before handing it over.

The other woman didn’t speak though. She simply smiled and gestured toward the ship. Ophelia had so many questions though causing her to hesitate before starting toward the Wretched Siren. She had half a mind to demand some answers, but that wasn't the first impression she wanted to give. So with a small sigh she headed up the gangplank.

On board there were a few other people already gathered around. Ophelia wasn’t sure exactly what to say to them so she simply set about exploring the deck and getting acclimated to the ship itself. The floor felt a little strange under her feet as though she could tell it were floating. The sensation made her feel a bit light headed, but she was sure that would clear up with time.

Finished with her search she returned to the others and cast a discerning look at each and every one of them. So these were some of the people that would be accompanying her on this adventure. She hoped they were at least more experienced than she.


[/hr]
 

Applo

Beautiful like a Forest Fire
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Two beings stalked along the dockside of Mirgho’s Harbour. One was a well built woman who moved with the hurried step and nervous disposition that generally belonged to those of a slighter build. The other being was formless, though its presence though was just a noticeable as its companion, more so even. It assaulted the nostrils of any and all that it met on its journey with as much violence as any common criminal or drunkard could ever muster. The pair moved as one, the physical partner leading, the incorporeal trailing behind. When the hulking mass of the Wretched Siren sitting at its mooring came into sight, the woman stopped dead, her partner pooling around her head.

Crinkling her nose against the stench of her hair dye, Rán observed the scene before her and took a large slug from a tall glass bottle. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was drinking but it tasted strong and that was good enough for her. Right now a little liquid courage was what was needed to soothe her nerves. Joining a new crew invariably made her anxious. Did she want be off this fucking island as soon as possible? Yes. Was this crew her ticket to achieving precisely that? Also yes. Had she taken care to disguise her identity as best she could? The stench of rotten leeches that positively dripped from her hair and followed her like a shadow was testament to that. Still for someone like her in a place like Oshelanor, especially in Oshelanor in fact, strangers were always a risk. Half her nightmares nowadays seemed to start with her walking up the gangplank of a new ship.

After taking several more large swigs from her bottle Rán patted herself down with her free hand to check that everything was as it should be one last time. She needn't have bothered. All her worldly possession were exactly where they had been last time she had checked, and the ten times before that. In reality, Rán knew she was still stalling but somehow this little ritual made her feel more sure of herself. With everything as it should be, she pulled her somewhat crumpled letter out from her belt and advanced towards the silhouette that guarded the way to the ship.

“I-I-I have this.” Rán held her letter out at an arm's length, virtually using it as a shield. The short, dark skinned elf briefly peered at the crumpled piece of paper before silently motioning Rán towards the ship. With the first hurdle down, Rán took another sip from her bottle, offered a silent prayer to Hisani and then made her way over to the Wretched Siren.

The deck was empty, save for a handful of people, who Rán guessed from the bundles of possessions, were new hands like her. Drink seemed to be flowing between her new crewmates. Conversation wasn’t. That suited Rán just fine. All being well, there would be plenty of time to get to know people later. Silently she sat down at the base of the nearest mast and began inspecting the remaining contents of her bottle.​

 

SkittlesAndSpike

Definitely not a Fekfox
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Every step Noushad took had a spring to it. It was almost comical how cheerful the man looked, whistling as he practically skipped down Mirgho Harbour with his bag slung over his shoulder and letter clutched tightly in his hand. A big grin was plastered on his observed the night, enjoying the cool air. He was filled with a nervous energy that hadn't left since he'd read the letter in his hand.

He'd gotten the job, and he was happy enough that he could sing about it. In fact, he did sing at first, but his singing grated against even his own ears, so instead, he celebrated with a drink or two. He had every reason to celebrate. This was the job that would not only wipe away his remaining debt but leave him with something to live off for a long time.

Noushad's excitement was nearly palpable as he approached what he assumed was the ship, stopping before Elanso. "Here for the job!" Noushad raised the letter up so that she could read it. Admittedly, the dagger she had ready caused his grin to falter a tiny bit, but it was just for protection, he was sure.

With a smile, the woman nodded her head and waved him aboard the ship. "Thank you, lookin' forward to workin' with ya!" He gave her shoulder a heavy pat as he walked past her and aboard the ship. He was disappointed but not surprised to see that he wasn't the first person to arrive on the deck. He counted five people. Five people that he'd be sailing with for the foreseeable future. Five people, he'd have to get to know. He mentally cursed himself, wishing he'd arrived earlier.

It was always easier to greet people one by one as they filtered in than to introduce yourself to a group of people as you walked in. But then again, there hardly seemed to be any conversation going on, so perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about it for now. He could just sit back and wait for someone to greet him first...

Bah! His mother raised a gambling addict, not an ill-mannered lad. The person to enter should be the person to greet first, that was what how he was taught. He'd disappointed his mother enough with his problem, he didn't need to add insult to injury by tossing aside his manners!"Hello!" He greeted loudly, keeping his grin. "My name is Noushad, a pleasure to meet you all!"
 

Tarieles

Skulls for the Skull Crab
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Usually every day, but I often don't like posting every day.
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Male, Female, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Generally both, but I lean passive
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, modern fantasy, high fantasy, romance, slice of life, sci-fi, grimdark, light fandoms (next gen, non canon chars, etc)
Genre You DON'T Like
yaoi, yuri, furry, heavy fandoms/canon fandoms

Oshanlenor. A place that left a bitter taste in the mouth of one particular aasimar woman. It was here that she both signed away her past life and took on a new one. Whenever they docked on the island, it was a rare sight to see Meandin on land, unless she had been talked into it by a certain drow who she had come to at least not hate. She still didn't trust the male at all, but she was at least grateful for him to allow her aboard in her time of need.

Mea stood up on the deck, near the stairs that would take her below. She was curious as to who would be boarding the Siren as new crew. While she stayed back, she could hear people approaching and talking with Elanso. As the first person stepped aboard, Mea felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she saw it was a female. Granted she was an elf, but she was just that; a she. She had been praying the new recruits wouldn't be a bunch of brash men.

Her hopes were somewhat dashed as the second person boarded. A large, gruff-looking tiefling man. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. However, the next person aboard was another woman. A dwarf at that. She had never really had any bad experiences with dwarves. Often, she felt as if she could relate to many of the dwarven sailors she met when she worked on the docks. They were more often than not boisterous but more respectful than others.

With yet two more people boarding the ship, Mea felt as if she had seen enough. She pushed off from a crate she had been leaning on, making her way back down below deck. She figured this meant she'd have some room mates. She returned to her cabin, where three empty beds sat. She would sort of miss being by herself. She knew from the start it wouldn't last long but she had hoped for longer. With that thought, she kicked off her boots and laid down.
 

Jays

Olives and Fear
BITE Fall Community Pick
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Midnight devoured all sound and echoed back a muted reflection without meaning, without life. The clicking of boots and cane rang hollow along the dock, their owner's form hidden by the dark except for the sizzling glow of the pipe revealing thoughtful crimson eyes glazing out at the sea.

"Do not try to claim me, old man." The wind blew the words away, like a dream dissipating at the first moment of consciousness. "Your disciple is dead, burned and buried. You had taken all you could. I owe you nothing."

Oshanlenor's waves whispered and crashed, carrying his voice into the depth, leaving no answer. But Faust knew what it would be. He knew too, this time Zainth would not get what he wanted, even if it was delivered into his palm. The boy was dead. Faust belonged to nothing, God, mortal, or idea.

The stink of fish and salt-soaked wood tingled his skin like moisture. He had not missed it.

Faust's crooked foot ached the way only the prospect of being on a ship could. The choice had been rational, beneficial, yet that did not mean he didn't wish to be elsewhere. Faust knew where this road would lead, the company he would share, the violence he would partake. Soon he would shed his skin again, no matter how much he loathed the process.

The crescent was bright amongst the cloud, Zainth's single eye surveying his walking possessions.

The elf before the ship waved him past with little more than a cursory glance to the parchment he had received. It was expected, of course. Soon they would be stuck on a floating piece of wood amongst the innumerable ocean, and then they would know each other so intimately that each second together would be the torture of counting the seconds to shore.

Faust did not converse with those on the ship. There would be time for that, too much once they knew better.

The shifting depth spoke to him, exhilaration bleeding through each sound, like a long separated lover recounting all which had occurred since last they parted.
 
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Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

*

Perhaps it was because it was night and people were tired and just wanted to sleep? Those were Ayameri's first thoughts as she watched the other crew members make their way onboard. Aside from the tiefling who came up after her and kindly told her to go someplace warmer, and the dwarf who came after him and promptly offered him a drink, everyone else was as quiet and as somber as the grave-

And then came the loud boisterous man with a grin on his face and a clear and friendly welcome on his lips. The grin was infectious; Ayameri could feel her previously waning smile returning, stretching her own mouth into a grin to rival the man's. Now there was someone who knew how to greet others!

"Pleasure to meet you too!" she replied, waving her hand enthusiastically at the man named Noushad. It was almost a relief, seeing someone who didn't seem to shun talk.

She then looked to the others as well, the three tieflings, the dwarf, the... woman with the strong smell... what even was that? It wasn't body odour, that was for sure...

Then there had been one more woman who the wood elf deemed an Aasimar due to her hair, but she had promptly disappeared down into the cabins. Well, Aya thought to herself, I can always meet her later.

"Nice to meet you all as well, and looking forward to sailing with you all! My name's Ayameri by the way, but you all can call me Aya instead if you wish!"


 
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Holmishire

Ghost with no home.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
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One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Late night PST
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Intermediate, Advanced
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Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive > Aggressive, but a mix.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic, Superpower'd, and some Sci-Fi.
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything heavily sexualized or silly. I tend to avoid hard sci-fi, horror, and slice-of-life roleplays.
Figsi "Fig" Skelder
Holmishire Holmishire .

Figsi clipped her waterskin to her belt and then looked back up at the others. Only the four of them seemed at all interested in meeting their new compatriots—perhaps the other women were Siren veterans, already set in their ways and uninterested in the new blood. Or, in the case of the woman she'd caught from the corner of her eye slinking below deck, unwilling to act upon her interest.

Still, her current company would be pleasant enough—and they made for quite the varied foursome!

"Fig," she butted in, jabbing a finger at her chest. "Well met, Aya, Noushad—" A hesitation, as she peeked up at the tiefling again, before muttering, "Big Grim." She winked confidingly at the other two, hoping she hadn't just pronounced her own doom.

"You met the captain yet? Been kept a bit in the dark mesself, giving me the shivers." Pulling her vest a bit more tightly around her to combat the cold, her confiding smile widened. "Good shivers."
[/hr]
 

Pahn

Badass Bitch
Original poster
DONATING MEMBER
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Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.


Once the last member of the crew had boarded the ship, Elanso cast a look at the docks and let the faint stench from Mirgho's Harbor fill her nose for one last time. She didn't feel any particular attachment to the place, but it had been where she'd met Draynor and had finally started a life of her own. With a new energy in her step, the brown-skinned elf took long steps up the plank that connected the ship to the dock. Without asking for anyone's assistance, she pulled it back in while humming to herself a cheery tune. The chatter behind her died out and she could feel their eyes burning in her neck, but she kept humming and preparing the ship for departure.

Filling her lungs with air, Elanso bellowed in an impressively loud voice: "BELANOOOOOOR, ANCHOR UP!"

At the other end of the ship, a tall and muscular tiefling male waved his arm and began pulling the anchor out of the water. The pullcord mechanism creaked as the heavy chain was hoistered up with the anchor, but the tiefling barely seemed to be struggling at all.

Elanso nodded with a satisfied smile and brought a finger and her thumb between her lips to blow a loud whistle. It wasn't directed at the new crewmates, but she figured she might as well grab their attention now.

"Good evening! I'm Elanso Zagi, the crew's firstmate. Basically you do what I say unless you want to taste Quartermaster Belanor's," she interrupted herself to point towards the large tiefling who was still pulling up the anchor, "His whips. He takes great joy in his job, so I'd suggest doing as you're told." Despite the oddly morbid topic, there wasn't any trace of displeasure in Elanso's features. Just as she opened her mouth to continue, her eyes widened and she placed her fists on her hips. "Ladies and gentlemen, your Captain!"

The dark elf let a pleased smile curve his lips and he made sure to make eye contact with everyone present. There was only pure excitement and eagerness in his eyes, like a child standing before a candy shop. The bright moonlight brought to life the leather patterns on his crimson overcoat, the silver buttons shining brightly. He was moving effortlessly between each crew member, taking them in at a leisurely pace until he was standing next to Elanso.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome. Newest members of the Burnt Hands, welcome to your new home. The Wretched Siren is a beautiful woman that you must take care of as though she were your sick lover. She creaks and cracks, and sings us the most beautiful melodies in the midst of storms." Unable to keep a straight face, the captain laughed heartily and slapped Elanso's shoulder, who rolled her eyes and sighed loudly with a badly hidden grin on her face. "I shall be your captain, Draynor Wynmaris. You may call me Captain or Captain Draynor, as you wish - I'm sure we'll get to know each other more intimately as time goes. Now, don't be so shy - I haven't heard much chatter since you've all boarded. Have you dropped your tongues on sea urchins?"

Draynor grinned and let out a small groan of annoyance. "We have another crewmate who's been with us for a little bit now, Mea. She's a bit of a shy one, I see she went straight to her cabin again. She'll be your cook, she's not as bad as she looks." He pursed his lips in amusement and lifted his chin. His eyes closed for a moment and he took in a deep breath, speaking out loud as he released it. "We'll be departing now, the wind is good and will give us a better start now than if we wait any longer. Riggers, with me! It's time to set the sails!"

Without waiting for anyone, the captain headed towards the back end of the ship and directed other crewmates on which sails to pull. They hadn't appointed a boatswain in charge of the sails yet, so he'd have to take care of that for now. It didn't bother him, though. The excitement from earlier made his icy blue eyes scintillate as brightly as the silver buttons of his coat.

Back on the deck, Elanso rubbed her temple and looked back at the remaining crew members. "You get used to it. Uh, Rudesind Pyr - you, go with him. He likes to pilot the ship but it isn't for the best when he's not sober. Ayameri Astari, Rán, Sagus Faust - you're all free to go in your cabins for now. Maybe say hi to Mea and our master Carpenter Fooky if you come across them, and let them know we're leaving." The elf remained as she was, an eyebrow raised, as she waited for everyone to scamper away to where they'd been assigned or dismissed to.
 

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
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Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
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Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

*

Oh good, she can speak! The thought wasn't snarky; Ayameri had met mute sailors in her travels, so it wouldn't have surprised her if the first mate was, although now that she really thought about it, that would be quite disadvantageous. How would she be able to give out orders without a voice?

Amber eyes followed Elanso when she pointed to the large and muscular tiefling who was in the process of pulling the anchor from the water. Truth be told he did look intimidating, but looks could be deceiving. Still, Ayameri felt no fear of his whip- she wasn't here to shirk her duties. Working out at sea was something she wanted, so there was no reason she would be slacking. If anything, there was the slight fear of being a little overeager and causing others to look at her with resentment.

That final thought had her lessen the grin on her face to a mere smile, just in time to see the Captain. Unlike the intimidating quartermaster, this man seemed as charming as water was wet, and as handsome a man as any. A man such as this would normally have Ayameri rather wary and suspicious, but seeing he was now their captain, she forced herself to relax, listening as he spoke. So far so good. He seemed able enough, just like the first mate Elanso, whose words when the captain left caused Aya's grin to return.

"Aye, sounds good!" Aya replied once she and the other two were dismissed. What better way to make use of free time than getting to know her new crew mates? After all, they would be spending a lot of time together from hence forth. "Mea... Fooky." She nodded as she memorized the names, especially the latter since she assumed she would be working under the master carpenter.

"Oh!" She looked to the dark haired woman of smell and the other very large tiefling on the crew- frankly she felt like a shrimp at this point- and waved. "At last I know your names. Ran and Sagus- I hope I said those right. Will you two be heading to the cabins as well? It should be nice to have a little chit chat as we settle in."



 

Holmishire

Ghost with no home.
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Passive > Aggressive, but a mix.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic, Superpower'd, and some Sci-Fi.
Genre You DON'T Like
Anything heavily sexualized or silly. I tend to avoid hard sci-fi, horror, and slice-of-life roleplays.
Figsi "Fig" Skelder
Holmishire Holmishire .

"Speak and he appears," she muttered, eying their exuberant captain. To her satisfaction, he seemed the approachable type; many of the merchant vessels' senior crewmembers had been rather distant.

"That's me!" she announced, first of the riggers to rush to Captain's aid. She hesitated by the rigging, thinking she could be proactive in unfastening the gaskets—but thought better of it, presenting herself properly. It was his ship, after all; better she show herself trusting in his abilities. "Figsi, Captain; good climber, great grip. Where'd you want me?" Though her voice was quiet, she spoke with total confidence.
[/hr]
 

Applo

Beautiful like a Forest Fire
DONATING MEMBER
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With the rattling of the anchor being raised tumbling across the deck, Rán felt the tension she had been carrying around for weeks start to ebb away. She always liked leaving port. The fact that is was Oshelenor that she was leaving was even better. The whole damned island could burn as far as she was concerned and if she got her way, at some point in the future at least part of it would.

As the Elanso started to talk, Rán dragged herself to her feet and half heartedly paid attention to what she was being told. She had joined new crews plenty of times before and specifics aside, what the First Mate and then the Captain had to say was nothing new to her. Discipline was pretty much always brought up, that made sense enough to Rán. What she couldn’t understand was why so many Captains, like her new one, if asked would talk about their ships like they wanted to fuck them. A ship needed care and attention, Rán appreciated this, but to talk about it like a lover...that was a peculiarity she wasn’t certain she would ever understand. Nevertheless, it was better than a captain that didn’t care at all she supposed.

Then, almost as suddenly as he appeared the Captain left again, dishing out order as the crew made ready to set sail. Not long after most of her fellow new recruits had followed in his wake to go about their duties and Rán was left with standing on deck with the keen and chatty Aya and looming bulk of Sagus. With nothing she needed to be doing, Elanso’s suggestion of heading below deck to the cabins was one that appealed to Rán. It had been weeks since she’d slept soundly, even by her own low standards. Hopefully the knowledge the Oshalenor was getting farther away by the second would help with that.

“Might as well.” Rán slung her sack of possessions over her shoulder and took a swig from her bottle before she turned to face the Aya. “I need to stow this stuff somewhere, and I’ve seen enough of this stinking shit hole to last me a lifetime.” Without waiting for a response Rán turned and made her way into the depths of The Wretched Siren. Finding the cabins was easy enough, finding one with space proved a tad more challenging. The first couple of doors Rán opened revealed cabins that were clearly lived in already.

The third door she opened however, contained a much more welcome sight. One of the bunks had an occupant sure, but the rest appeared to be unoccupied. Swiftly Rán claimed one of the lower one of the lower bunks by tossing her gear onto it before sliding onto it herself. She knew from painful experience that sleeping high off the floor was a bad idea for her.​

 

Jays

Olives and Fear
BITE Fall Community Pick
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Prestige
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Male, Primarily Prefer Male

Faust puffed on his sizzling pipe and leaned on his cane against the rocking of the ship. His left foot ached a little less the further they pulled away from shore, although the stiffness still persisted. His scarlet gaze followed the First Mate and listened to her and the Captain's speech with bemused interest. He had heard it all before, of course, but it had been decades since he last been at sea. Almost by forgotten instinct, the familiar prayer to Zainth flashed through his mind in a single breath and was gone, unuttered.

The crew scattered as soon as the show ended. The ship rocked to an invisible rhythm on the Gods can see. He braced his tail against the deck to steady himself and unslung the pack from his shoulder, dropping it at his feet.

"Faust, if you please." He said to the tiny elfling in front of him, offering her a toothy smile that was meant to be disarming. "How do you do?"

Greenie Greenie
 

SkittlesAndSpike

Definitely not a Fekfox
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"Thanks for havin' me, captain." Noushad grinned as he responded to the captain. He was glad the captain seemed to be a lively fellow. He'd been on ships where the captains were either the gruff, quiet, enigmatic or worse, uninspiring. They weren't necessarily bad at their jobs, but Draynor's attitude was always appreciated.

He followed after the captain along with Figsy, walking behind her as his eyes observed the Wretched Siren. "I'm Noushad, pleasure to meet ya." He followed her example and introduce himself, to Figsy and their new captain, though he didn't feel the need to talk about his capabilities. He figured since he had the job the captain knew what he was capable of. Besides, one good look at him and anyone could tell he was big and strong, his best attributes.

 

Turtle of Doom

The Monster Under Your Bed
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Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Either works for me. And would prefer if the story was gently led by all participating parties.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Magical, Romance, Dystopian, Religious, Post-Apocalyptic, Zombies (but the plot has to consist of more than just mindlessly murdering the undead), Steampunk
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi, Furry, Incest
Ophelia Eonslight


Ophelia’s heart stuttered in her chest as the first mate came aboard and began speaking. It was all so exciting. She glanced around at the people surrounding her but they didn’t seem to feel it the way she did. It was a twittering in her stomach, a catch in her breath. This was it, this was the beginning.

She hung on every word that the elvin first mate said, and when the captain took his place Ophelia felt her jaw drop. He was definitely not what she was expecting in a captain. She caught herself staring, and a blush rose to her cheeks.

After a few moments the effect wore off and she immediately looked around to see if anyone else had noticed that she had been staring. It didn’t seem like they had, and the captain was still speaking so she focused her attention once again on his words.

Calling for the riggers, his speech finished, leaving Ophelia feeling a little more out of place than she already had been. It took her several seconds to realize that when he called for riggers that he was talking to her.

Riggers, right then, that’s me,” the words tumbled out of her mouth as though they tripped over one another as she stepped forward and took her place. Her stomach clenched as the ship swayed underfoot. It was a sensation that was going to take some getting used to.

I’m Ophelia,” she said to the captain and the other two after taking a mental note of their names. Figsi seemed capable enough and eager to start; Ophelia wondered if she should hang around her until she got into the swing of things. “This is my first time on a ship,” she added hoping that would be enough to prompt someone to tell her what was expected of her right then.


[/hr]
 

Pahn

Badass Bitch
Original poster
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Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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My Usual Online Time
Anytime, I have no life.
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Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
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I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.
Captain Draynor


The captain chuckled loudly as the crew mates who'd followed him introduced themselves. They were certainly a varied bunch, and he was glad to have some less experienced folks to whom he could teach exactly how he preferred the Wretched Siren be taken care of.

"Figsi, Noushad, Ophelia. My darlings, it is my pleasure to have you under my watch. We're just about to set sail now, and Belanor's taken care of the heavier cordage." Captain Draynor stopped in the middle of the deck and made an exaggerated arm motion towards the smaller boats placed along the edge of the ship. "First few days are the busiest! Once we're further from shore, we'll set our flag colours so we don't get accosted by less wholesome pirates. For now, simply check those two boats to make sure they're secured tightly and won't fall off if we get hit by big waves. Once that's done... Well... Have a drink with me on the upper deck! Questions?" Having said his piece, Draynor nodded and waited a extra seconds in case they did have questions about their first task.



Turtle of Doom Turtle of Doom SkittlesAndSpike SkittlesAndSpike Holmishire Holmishire