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Morning was Neena's favourite time of day. It offered brightness, joy and a sort of hopeful opportunity for the day to come. Like all other past events, days, nights, sleep or no sleep, were entirely washed away and the new day was here, ready to be explored. Not needing a lot of sleep by nature - perhaps it was from being practically raised on a ship, or because she had always had to keep one eye open on the streets - Neena was always able to be up with the dawn, no matter where she was or what her sleeping arrangements were.
This time, when she woke up, as was often in her line of... well, life... Neena woke up with a moment of uncertainty, not knowing exactly where she was. The rocking beneath her - a feeling that was lulling and familiar rather than nauseating as some people found it - eased her into consciousness slowly and she found herself snuggling a little with a warm blanket that was a rarity in her world. Not that she disliked her life of living rough on the street, or down an alley, or occasionally up a tree... she loved her life exactly the way it was - without ties, responsibilities or materialistic attachments. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy a piece of luxury when she found it in hand.
It was the smell of the herbs that reminded her where she was in the end. The little cabin that had been cleared out for her was one that the non-captain of the vessel had previously used for storage or work or something to do with multiple herbs and plants. Some of which were quite pungent. It reminded her of where she had been when she fell asleep and therefore where she still was. She was aboard the ship called the Azazel. Where she had purchased her fare in order to leave Judea and head out into the world yet untold to her...
Only to then discover that she was headed to Egypt. Where she had been before.
Oh well! The ship would continue on after that, no doubt, and she would simply have to dig her heels and claws in, in order to continue being a passenger on to that next destination - whatever it might be.
For now, though, she was safely aboard and there was little the grumpy man who owned it could do about it. She was here. And the day was just beginning.
Taking one final squeeze of the blankets and then throwing them to one side, Neena stood up on the wooden floor of the cabin stark naked and then quickly found the clothes she had removed from her frame before going to sleep. She only had the one set, so it was foolish to cause them to be dirtier than they needed to be when a blanket had been provided for cover as she slumbered.
Pulling the little pixie dress tunic thing back on - she had no idea what it was called because she had sort of made it from available garments - Neena tugged at her hair with her fingers and then tied it back into a firm bun, heedless of the sprouty bits that stuck up around the leather tie. She kept her leather thong sandals in the cabin and headed out up onto the deck bare footed. She had always sailed in bare feet as many sailors did and felt more comfortable that way.
Finding her way to the prow of the ship, where she had hovered and watched the horizon late into the night the previous evening, Neena luxuriating in the scent and feel of the salty sea air, pleased to see that, during the course of the night, the lands behind them had disappeared entirely. Now, there was nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see.
Taking up a position of cross-legged ease on the deck at the front of the ship where the few sailors who were monitoring the vessel wouldn't trip over her or have an issue with her presence, Neena started up a routine of stretches and flexibility tests to her boat that she had learnt from a masseuse and prostitute in Egypt many years ago. She had found it helped with aligning her thoughts, keeping her body supple and energetic and basically just waking her up to the day. She kept her eyes closed as she moved, simply enjoying the sun on her face and skin as she contorted herself into complex shapes and then stretched her muscles back out again into elegant long lines. She found herself smiling as she worked.
It was good to be free again.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Morning was Neena's favourite time of day. It offered brightness, joy and a sort of hopeful opportunity for the day to come. Like all other past events, days, nights, sleep or no sleep, were entirely washed away and the new day was here, ready to be explored. Not needing a lot of sleep by nature - perhaps it was from being practically raised on a ship, or because she had always had to keep one eye open on the streets - Neena was always able to be up with the dawn, no matter where she was or what her sleeping arrangements were.
This time, when she woke up, as was often in her line of... well, life... Neena woke up with a moment of uncertainty, not knowing exactly where she was. The rocking beneath her - a feeling that was lulling and familiar rather than nauseating as some people found it - eased her into consciousness slowly and she found herself snuggling a little with a warm blanket that was a rarity in her world. Not that she disliked her life of living rough on the street, or down an alley, or occasionally up a tree... she loved her life exactly the way it was - without ties, responsibilities or materialistic attachments. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy a piece of luxury when she found it in hand.
It was the smell of the herbs that reminded her where she was in the end. The little cabin that had been cleared out for her was one that the non-captain of the vessel had previously used for storage or work or something to do with multiple herbs and plants. Some of which were quite pungent. It reminded her of where she had been when she fell asleep and therefore where she still was. She was aboard the ship called the Azazel. Where she had purchased her fare in order to leave Judea and head out into the world yet untold to her...
Only to then discover that she was headed to Egypt. Where she had been before.
Oh well! The ship would continue on after that, no doubt, and she would simply have to dig her heels and claws in, in order to continue being a passenger on to that next destination - whatever it might be.
For now, though, she was safely aboard and there was little the grumpy man who owned it could do about it. She was here. And the day was just beginning.
Taking one final squeeze of the blankets and then throwing them to one side, Neena stood up on the wooden floor of the cabin stark naked and then quickly found the clothes she had removed from her frame before going to sleep. She only had the one set, so it was foolish to cause them to be dirtier than they needed to be when a blanket had been provided for cover as she slumbered.
Pulling the little pixie dress tunic thing back on - she had no idea what it was called because she had sort of made it from available garments - Neena tugged at her hair with her fingers and then tied it back into a firm bun, heedless of the sprouty bits that stuck up around the leather tie. She kept her leather thong sandals in the cabin and headed out up onto the deck bare footed. She had always sailed in bare feet as many sailors did and felt more comfortable that way.
Finding her way to the prow of the ship, where she had hovered and watched the horizon late into the night the previous evening, Neena luxuriating in the scent and feel of the salty sea air, pleased to see that, during the course of the night, the lands behind them had disappeared entirely. Now, there was nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see.
Taking up a position of cross-legged ease on the deck at the front of the ship where the few sailors who were monitoring the vessel wouldn't trip over her or have an issue with her presence, Neena started up a routine of stretches and flexibility tests to her boat that she had learnt from a masseuse and prostitute in Egypt many years ago. She had found it helped with aligning her thoughts, keeping her body supple and energetic and basically just waking her up to the day. She kept her eyes closed as she moved, simply enjoying the sun on her face and skin as she contorted herself into complex shapes and then stretched her muscles back out again into elegant long lines. She found herself smiling as she worked.
It was good to be free again.
Morning was Neena's favourite time of day. It offered brightness, joy and a sort of hopeful opportunity for the day to come. Like all other past events, days, nights, sleep or no sleep, were entirely washed away and the new day was here, ready to be explored. Not needing a lot of sleep by nature - perhaps it was from being practically raised on a ship, or because she had always had to keep one eye open on the streets - Neena was always able to be up with the dawn, no matter where she was or what her sleeping arrangements were.
This time, when she woke up, as was often in her line of... well, life... Neena woke up with a moment of uncertainty, not knowing exactly where she was. The rocking beneath her - a feeling that was lulling and familiar rather than nauseating as some people found it - eased her into consciousness slowly and she found herself snuggling a little with a warm blanket that was a rarity in her world. Not that she disliked her life of living rough on the street, or down an alley, or occasionally up a tree... she loved her life exactly the way it was - without ties, responsibilities or materialistic attachments. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy a piece of luxury when she found it in hand.
It was the smell of the herbs that reminded her where she was in the end. The little cabin that had been cleared out for her was one that the non-captain of the vessel had previously used for storage or work or something to do with multiple herbs and plants. Some of which were quite pungent. It reminded her of where she had been when she fell asleep and therefore where she still was. She was aboard the ship called the Azazel. Where she had purchased her fare in order to leave Judea and head out into the world yet untold to her...
Only to then discover that she was headed to Egypt. Where she had been before.
Oh well! The ship would continue on after that, no doubt, and she would simply have to dig her heels and claws in, in order to continue being a passenger on to that next destination - whatever it might be.
For now, though, she was safely aboard and there was little the grumpy man who owned it could do about it. She was here. And the day was just beginning.
Taking one final squeeze of the blankets and then throwing them to one side, Neena stood up on the wooden floor of the cabin stark naked and then quickly found the clothes she had removed from her frame before going to sleep. She only had the one set, so it was foolish to cause them to be dirtier than they needed to be when a blanket had been provided for cover as she slumbered.
Pulling the little pixie dress tunic thing back on - she had no idea what it was called because she had sort of made it from available garments - Neena tugged at her hair with her fingers and then tied it back into a firm bun, heedless of the sprouty bits that stuck up around the leather tie. She kept her leather thong sandals in the cabin and headed out up onto the deck bare footed. She had always sailed in bare feet as many sailors did and felt more comfortable that way.
Finding her way to the prow of the ship, where she had hovered and watched the horizon late into the night the previous evening, Neena luxuriating in the scent and feel of the salty sea air, pleased to see that, during the course of the night, the lands behind them had disappeared entirely. Now, there was nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see.
Taking up a position of cross-legged ease on the deck at the front of the ship where the few sailors who were monitoring the vessel wouldn't trip over her or have an issue with her presence, Neena started up a routine of stretches and flexibility tests to her boat that she had learnt from a masseuse and prostitute in Egypt many years ago. She had found it helped with aligning her thoughts, keeping her body supple and energetic and basically just waking her up to the day. She kept her eyes closed as she moved, simply enjoying the sun on her face and skin as she contorted herself into complex shapes and then stretched her muscles back out again into elegant long lines. She found herself smiling as she worked.
It was good to be free again.
A morning on a sailing ship was no easy feat, and none on board the ship ever had the luxury of a slow, natural wake up, not as long as they were on duty.
Luckily for Kreios however, just because he owned the vessel, did not necessarily mean he had to work on it. To the merchant, there was little money could not get him, and it was part and parcel of why he had worked so hard in the earlier parts of his life, to attain the luxury he now so enjoyed. Whilst the deck of the ship busied themselves with ensuring nothing had went wrong with the lesser hands on deck during the night, preparing for a full day's sail towards Egypt, and ensuring they would arrive by the next day, Kreios had taken his leisurely time to awaken. Typhon slept by his bed, the bloodhound now having fully gaining his sea legs, and waking as and when his master did.
Only when his obsidian eyes opened however, did Kreios groan as he noted the extra stuff he now had in his chambers. As a person who enjoyed sparse interiors, he grumbled as he now had to put up with extra items due to his having taken on extra cargo. The merchant would not usually had went for it, had he not been offered such a lucrative payment. The pink gem unique only to the African continent now sat safely stowed away under his bed, and the merchant would only take it out upon his return to Greece.
Until then, however, he guessed he would have to bear with it.
Running a hand through his sleep-messed hair, a nudge from his toe was enough to send Typhon out on deck as Kreios allowed the hound, so he would have more space for his morning ablutions. It was simply enough, running water and running a blade through his face to rid of any nightly hairs, before tossing on his usual leather pants and black linen shirt, items of clothing he much preferred while on ship. It was unsightly to be unsteady on one's fit whilst in a chiton. The boots he wore were heavy, but necessary to prevent injury to one's toes should any plank or material fall, and with one last run of his fingers through his hair, it was not long before the owner of the Azazel made his way up on deck.
Descat had sent his morning meal to break his fast to his cabin, and it ahd been there that Kreios had consumed of the hard bread and watered wine before appearing on deck. A short whistle was enough to summon Typhon by his side, but with the canine came his servant boy, who was quick to reassure Kreios that Typhon had been fed. "Bring him around the bowsprit for him to relieve himself, and then run with him around deck. He would not see land for a day yet, and he'll need his exercise." Kreios instructed, voice short but firm as was his habit.
What surprised the dark-haired male however, was when Descat hesitated, something his loyal servant boy ever did. Kreios frowned when he saw the reaction of the young servant, and then raised a questioning brow. "It's just... Sir, the deck may be a tad... taken up, in space. I could bring Typhon half way round?"
"What do you mean'taken up in space'?" he bit out in a huff. As if of one movement, he turned his eyes to swivel towards the deck from where he stood at the head of the stairs leading to the cabin, and almost immediately saw what Descat meant. His brows furrowed together when he saw the unsightly way in which the 'cargo' he had taken in the day before was contorted in, and a low growl emerged from the back of his throat, most part of it due to annoyance.
Heavy footsteps across the planks were her only warning before Kreios barked at her in a tone filled with irritation. "You're in the way of my crew as they work. Did I not specifically tell you to stay out of the way?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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A morning on a sailing ship was no easy feat, and none on board the ship ever had the luxury of a slow, natural wake up, not as long as they were on duty.
Luckily for Kreios however, just because he owned the vessel, did not necessarily mean he had to work on it. To the merchant, there was little money could not get him, and it was part and parcel of why he had worked so hard in the earlier parts of his life, to attain the luxury he now so enjoyed. Whilst the deck of the ship busied themselves with ensuring nothing had went wrong with the lesser hands on deck during the night, preparing for a full day's sail towards Egypt, and ensuring they would arrive by the next day, Kreios had taken his leisurely time to awaken. Typhon slept by his bed, the bloodhound now having fully gaining his sea legs, and waking as and when his master did.
Only when his obsidian eyes opened however, did Kreios groan as he noted the extra stuff he now had in his chambers. As a person who enjoyed sparse interiors, he grumbled as he now had to put up with extra items due to his having taken on extra cargo. The merchant would not usually had went for it, had he not been offered such a lucrative payment. The pink gem unique only to the African continent now sat safely stowed away under his bed, and the merchant would only take it out upon his return to Greece.
Until then, however, he guessed he would have to bear with it.
Running a hand through his sleep-messed hair, a nudge from his toe was enough to send Typhon out on deck as Kreios allowed the hound, so he would have more space for his morning ablutions. It was simply enough, running water and running a blade through his face to rid of any nightly hairs, before tossing on his usual leather pants and black linen shirt, items of clothing he much preferred while on ship. It was unsightly to be unsteady on one's fit whilst in a chiton. The boots he wore were heavy, but necessary to prevent injury to one's toes should any plank or material fall, and with one last run of his fingers through his hair, it was not long before the owner of the Azazel made his way up on deck.
Descat had sent his morning meal to break his fast to his cabin, and it ahd been there that Kreios had consumed of the hard bread and watered wine before appearing on deck. A short whistle was enough to summon Typhon by his side, but with the canine came his servant boy, who was quick to reassure Kreios that Typhon had been fed. "Bring him around the bowsprit for him to relieve himself, and then run with him around deck. He would not see land for a day yet, and he'll need his exercise." Kreios instructed, voice short but firm as was his habit.
What surprised the dark-haired male however, was when Descat hesitated, something his loyal servant boy ever did. Kreios frowned when he saw the reaction of the young servant, and then raised a questioning brow. "It's just... Sir, the deck may be a tad... taken up, in space. I could bring Typhon half way round?"
"What do you mean'taken up in space'?" he bit out in a huff. As if of one movement, he turned his eyes to swivel towards the deck from where he stood at the head of the stairs leading to the cabin, and almost immediately saw what Descat meant. His brows furrowed together when he saw the unsightly way in which the 'cargo' he had taken in the day before was contorted in, and a low growl emerged from the back of his throat, most part of it due to annoyance.
Heavy footsteps across the planks were her only warning before Kreios barked at her in a tone filled with irritation. "You're in the way of my crew as they work. Did I not specifically tell you to stay out of the way?"
A morning on a sailing ship was no easy feat, and none on board the ship ever had the luxury of a slow, natural wake up, not as long as they were on duty.
Luckily for Kreios however, just because he owned the vessel, did not necessarily mean he had to work on it. To the merchant, there was little money could not get him, and it was part and parcel of why he had worked so hard in the earlier parts of his life, to attain the luxury he now so enjoyed. Whilst the deck of the ship busied themselves with ensuring nothing had went wrong with the lesser hands on deck during the night, preparing for a full day's sail towards Egypt, and ensuring they would arrive by the next day, Kreios had taken his leisurely time to awaken. Typhon slept by his bed, the bloodhound now having fully gaining his sea legs, and waking as and when his master did.
Only when his obsidian eyes opened however, did Kreios groan as he noted the extra stuff he now had in his chambers. As a person who enjoyed sparse interiors, he grumbled as he now had to put up with extra items due to his having taken on extra cargo. The merchant would not usually had went for it, had he not been offered such a lucrative payment. The pink gem unique only to the African continent now sat safely stowed away under his bed, and the merchant would only take it out upon his return to Greece.
Until then, however, he guessed he would have to bear with it.
Running a hand through his sleep-messed hair, a nudge from his toe was enough to send Typhon out on deck as Kreios allowed the hound, so he would have more space for his morning ablutions. It was simply enough, running water and running a blade through his face to rid of any nightly hairs, before tossing on his usual leather pants and black linen shirt, items of clothing he much preferred while on ship. It was unsightly to be unsteady on one's fit whilst in a chiton. The boots he wore were heavy, but necessary to prevent injury to one's toes should any plank or material fall, and with one last run of his fingers through his hair, it was not long before the owner of the Azazel made his way up on deck.
Descat had sent his morning meal to break his fast to his cabin, and it ahd been there that Kreios had consumed of the hard bread and watered wine before appearing on deck. A short whistle was enough to summon Typhon by his side, but with the canine came his servant boy, who was quick to reassure Kreios that Typhon had been fed. "Bring him around the bowsprit for him to relieve himself, and then run with him around deck. He would not see land for a day yet, and he'll need his exercise." Kreios instructed, voice short but firm as was his habit.
What surprised the dark-haired male however, was when Descat hesitated, something his loyal servant boy ever did. Kreios frowned when he saw the reaction of the young servant, and then raised a questioning brow. "It's just... Sir, the deck may be a tad... taken up, in space. I could bring Typhon half way round?"
"What do you mean'taken up in space'?" he bit out in a huff. As if of one movement, he turned his eyes to swivel towards the deck from where he stood at the head of the stairs leading to the cabin, and almost immediately saw what Descat meant. His brows furrowed together when he saw the unsightly way in which the 'cargo' he had taken in the day before was contorted in, and a low growl emerged from the back of his throat, most part of it due to annoyance.
Heavy footsteps across the planks were her only warning before Kreios barked at her in a tone filled with irritation. "You're in the way of my crew as they work. Did I not specifically tell you to stay out of the way?"
Neena jumped when a sharp voice assaulted her peace and quiet. Had she not been focusing on her breathing or the wonderfully luxurious stretch of her muscles as she had worked them, she would have noted the man's stomping footsteps behind her and then been less shocked when he practically barked at her for being in the way. Instead, she had been lost within her own mind and hadn't noted his approach, meaning that his sharp tongue was quick to unsettle the balance she had found for herself. She wobbled, swayed and then landed flat on her back. She let her legs fall and her heels hit the deck, as she looked up from her position towards the man standing just behind her head.
"Oh yippee for me, you're discontent appears to be a permanent personality fixture." Neena commented with a light and bright tone that took all of the sting from her words and just left witty banter hanging in the air. A witty, friendly kind of joking that she knew would get on this kind of person's nerves far more than outright aggression or hostility. Her smile deepened, as she folded her arms across her chest, doing nothing to sit or stand back up. "This part of the ship isn't needed for sailing." She told the man, perfectly content in her years of seafaring experience. They had raised anchor the previous day and weren't due to let it down again until the following, the keel was secure, the jibboom unutilised and the focsle was perfectly accessible. She had seen to it to place herself in a position where she wouldn't be in anyone's way. Apparently, she was simply in his way. And he was trying to make out that his irritation was in favour of his sailors.
Spotting the servant boy behind the grumpy-man's legs (what was his name again?), and the dog at his ankles, Neena immediately sat up with a spark of engagement in her eyes. "Well, hello there pooch." She smiled but didn't reach out to make the animal nervous. Instead, she simply crossed her legs, braced her hands on the deck and spun herself around to look up at the dark slash of black staring back at her.
The man who had identified himself as owner but not captain of the ship - whose name she still couldn't bring to mind - was dressed entirely in black but with strong arms left bare to the sun by his tunic. His hair had been pushed back hazardously from his face and was already being tugged by the sea breeze. His stare was black as night and his jaw set firm and hard in distaste.
Neena raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as she looked up at him. She would never understand why people took to living life being permanent dissatisfied with everything and everyone they met. Seemed like a waste of the vibrant world and limited time they were given in life.
"Sorry..." Neena added as she stared up at the man, not at all nervous by his height and its looming effect. "I've totally forgotten your name, just so you know."
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neena jumped when a sharp voice assaulted her peace and quiet. Had she not been focusing on her breathing or the wonderfully luxurious stretch of her muscles as she had worked them, she would have noted the man's stomping footsteps behind her and then been less shocked when he practically barked at her for being in the way. Instead, she had been lost within her own mind and hadn't noted his approach, meaning that his sharp tongue was quick to unsettle the balance she had found for herself. She wobbled, swayed and then landed flat on her back. She let her legs fall and her heels hit the deck, as she looked up from her position towards the man standing just behind her head.
"Oh yippee for me, you're discontent appears to be a permanent personality fixture." Neena commented with a light and bright tone that took all of the sting from her words and just left witty banter hanging in the air. A witty, friendly kind of joking that she knew would get on this kind of person's nerves far more than outright aggression or hostility. Her smile deepened, as she folded her arms across her chest, doing nothing to sit or stand back up. "This part of the ship isn't needed for sailing." She told the man, perfectly content in her years of seafaring experience. They had raised anchor the previous day and weren't due to let it down again until the following, the keel was secure, the jibboom unutilised and the focsle was perfectly accessible. She had seen to it to place herself in a position where she wouldn't be in anyone's way. Apparently, she was simply in his way. And he was trying to make out that his irritation was in favour of his sailors.
Spotting the servant boy behind the grumpy-man's legs (what was his name again?), and the dog at his ankles, Neena immediately sat up with a spark of engagement in her eyes. "Well, hello there pooch." She smiled but didn't reach out to make the animal nervous. Instead, she simply crossed her legs, braced her hands on the deck and spun herself around to look up at the dark slash of black staring back at her.
The man who had identified himself as owner but not captain of the ship - whose name she still couldn't bring to mind - was dressed entirely in black but with strong arms left bare to the sun by his tunic. His hair had been pushed back hazardously from his face and was already being tugged by the sea breeze. His stare was black as night and his jaw set firm and hard in distaste.
Neena raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as she looked up at him. She would never understand why people took to living life being permanent dissatisfied with everything and everyone they met. Seemed like a waste of the vibrant world and limited time they were given in life.
"Sorry..." Neena added as she stared up at the man, not at all nervous by his height and its looming effect. "I've totally forgotten your name, just so you know."
Neena jumped when a sharp voice assaulted her peace and quiet. Had she not been focusing on her breathing or the wonderfully luxurious stretch of her muscles as she had worked them, she would have noted the man's stomping footsteps behind her and then been less shocked when he practically barked at her for being in the way. Instead, she had been lost within her own mind and hadn't noted his approach, meaning that his sharp tongue was quick to unsettle the balance she had found for herself. She wobbled, swayed and then landed flat on her back. She let her legs fall and her heels hit the deck, as she looked up from her position towards the man standing just behind her head.
"Oh yippee for me, you're discontent appears to be a permanent personality fixture." Neena commented with a light and bright tone that took all of the sting from her words and just left witty banter hanging in the air. A witty, friendly kind of joking that she knew would get on this kind of person's nerves far more than outright aggression or hostility. Her smile deepened, as she folded her arms across her chest, doing nothing to sit or stand back up. "This part of the ship isn't needed for sailing." She told the man, perfectly content in her years of seafaring experience. They had raised anchor the previous day and weren't due to let it down again until the following, the keel was secure, the jibboom unutilised and the focsle was perfectly accessible. She had seen to it to place herself in a position where she wouldn't be in anyone's way. Apparently, she was simply in his way. And he was trying to make out that his irritation was in favour of his sailors.
Spotting the servant boy behind the grumpy-man's legs (what was his name again?), and the dog at his ankles, Neena immediately sat up with a spark of engagement in her eyes. "Well, hello there pooch." She smiled but didn't reach out to make the animal nervous. Instead, she simply crossed her legs, braced her hands on the deck and spun herself around to look up at the dark slash of black staring back at her.
The man who had identified himself as owner but not captain of the ship - whose name she still couldn't bring to mind - was dressed entirely in black but with strong arms left bare to the sun by his tunic. His hair had been pushed back hazardously from his face and was already being tugged by the sea breeze. His stare was black as night and his jaw set firm and hard in distaste.
Neena raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as she looked up at him. She would never understand why people took to living life being permanent dissatisfied with everything and everyone they met. Seemed like a waste of the vibrant world and limited time they were given in life.
"Sorry..." Neena added as she stared up at the man, not at all nervous by his height and its looming effect. "I've totally forgotten your name, just so you know."
Her sharp tongue will be the death of him, of that Kreios was fairly shure. He made a disgruntled noise,not even bothering to check where she had fallen, and instead swept past her looking up at him from an awkward position to head towards where the captain manning the wheel. Raising a brow at her comment, Kreios turned to get confirmation from Garvey, and was surprised when the captain shrugged, and nodded his head. It came as a surprise to the merchant that the female actually knew her words, yet to allow her that small victory over knowing more then Kreios (for despite the years he's spent on a ship, he's never bothered learning, and instead used money to hired the best of the trade), he simply rolled his eyes and stood next to the captain as he found out how long they had before they arrived at the Egyptian port.
As the captain spoke however, reaffirming Kreios's instructions for them to arrive at port within two days, her voice piped up again, causing the merchant to scowl as he looked up, just to see Descat halting in his steps to bring Typhon on a round as was instructed. Did she enjoy fiddling with his instructions to his servants? How annoying.
"Do withhold speaking to my servants unless you are on the brink of death. Unless I am aware, cargo do not speak." he muttered, scowling as he jogged down the few steps leading up to the wheelhouse, to resume a spot in front of her. What had been her name again? To be fair, Kreios himself could not remember, but it wasn't as if he bothered to remember the name of one who would soon leave him upon reaching the shores of Greece. Then again, he did not remember asking for her name anyhow, but it wasn't surprising. Unless one was of particular use to him, Kreios rarely bothered.
He waved a hand at Descat, an unspoken instruction to do as he had told earlier and to ignore the disturbance they had taken upon the ship, before turning back to the girl, his dark eyes glinting with his obvious displeasure. "You didn't forget. I just never bothered to tell you. As I never asked for yours, in turn." The tone used by Kreios was as flat as the desert came, and held an obvious note of disinterest mingled with a hint of irritation as he continued, "But names are unnecessary. You just have to stay out of the way. Your meals will be delivered to your quarters, so there is no need to avail yourself on deck."
Scowling as if he hoped he got his point across, Kreios turned on his heel and headed towards the galley. Meals were of small matter to the man, for Kreios ate to live, instead of the other way around like many. As much as he would like to forgo food entirely though, his body liked to make its need for sustenance known every few hours, and he would have little choice. While the food aboard a ship was not pretty, he would scarf down whatever was served (usually salted meat, biscuits, cheese, peas and sea biscuits), before resuming his duties and concocting new mixtures for his clients.
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Her sharp tongue will be the death of him, of that Kreios was fairly shure. He made a disgruntled noise,not even bothering to check where she had fallen, and instead swept past her looking up at him from an awkward position to head towards where the captain manning the wheel. Raising a brow at her comment, Kreios turned to get confirmation from Garvey, and was surprised when the captain shrugged, and nodded his head. It came as a surprise to the merchant that the female actually knew her words, yet to allow her that small victory over knowing more then Kreios (for despite the years he's spent on a ship, he's never bothered learning, and instead used money to hired the best of the trade), he simply rolled his eyes and stood next to the captain as he found out how long they had before they arrived at the Egyptian port.
As the captain spoke however, reaffirming Kreios's instructions for them to arrive at port within two days, her voice piped up again, causing the merchant to scowl as he looked up, just to see Descat halting in his steps to bring Typhon on a round as was instructed. Did she enjoy fiddling with his instructions to his servants? How annoying.
"Do withhold speaking to my servants unless you are on the brink of death. Unless I am aware, cargo do not speak." he muttered, scowling as he jogged down the few steps leading up to the wheelhouse, to resume a spot in front of her. What had been her name again? To be fair, Kreios himself could not remember, but it wasn't as if he bothered to remember the name of one who would soon leave him upon reaching the shores of Greece. Then again, he did not remember asking for her name anyhow, but it wasn't surprising. Unless one was of particular use to him, Kreios rarely bothered.
He waved a hand at Descat, an unspoken instruction to do as he had told earlier and to ignore the disturbance they had taken upon the ship, before turning back to the girl, his dark eyes glinting with his obvious displeasure. "You didn't forget. I just never bothered to tell you. As I never asked for yours, in turn." The tone used by Kreios was as flat as the desert came, and held an obvious note of disinterest mingled with a hint of irritation as he continued, "But names are unnecessary. You just have to stay out of the way. Your meals will be delivered to your quarters, so there is no need to avail yourself on deck."
Scowling as if he hoped he got his point across, Kreios turned on his heel and headed towards the galley. Meals were of small matter to the man, for Kreios ate to live, instead of the other way around like many. As much as he would like to forgo food entirely though, his body liked to make its need for sustenance known every few hours, and he would have little choice. While the food aboard a ship was not pretty, he would scarf down whatever was served (usually salted meat, biscuits, cheese, peas and sea biscuits), before resuming his duties and concocting new mixtures for his clients.
Her sharp tongue will be the death of him, of that Kreios was fairly shure. He made a disgruntled noise,not even bothering to check where she had fallen, and instead swept past her looking up at him from an awkward position to head towards where the captain manning the wheel. Raising a brow at her comment, Kreios turned to get confirmation from Garvey, and was surprised when the captain shrugged, and nodded his head. It came as a surprise to the merchant that the female actually knew her words, yet to allow her that small victory over knowing more then Kreios (for despite the years he's spent on a ship, he's never bothered learning, and instead used money to hired the best of the trade), he simply rolled his eyes and stood next to the captain as he found out how long they had before they arrived at the Egyptian port.
As the captain spoke however, reaffirming Kreios's instructions for them to arrive at port within two days, her voice piped up again, causing the merchant to scowl as he looked up, just to see Descat halting in his steps to bring Typhon on a round as was instructed. Did she enjoy fiddling with his instructions to his servants? How annoying.
"Do withhold speaking to my servants unless you are on the brink of death. Unless I am aware, cargo do not speak." he muttered, scowling as he jogged down the few steps leading up to the wheelhouse, to resume a spot in front of her. What had been her name again? To be fair, Kreios himself could not remember, but it wasn't as if he bothered to remember the name of one who would soon leave him upon reaching the shores of Greece. Then again, he did not remember asking for her name anyhow, but it wasn't surprising. Unless one was of particular use to him, Kreios rarely bothered.
He waved a hand at Descat, an unspoken instruction to do as he had told earlier and to ignore the disturbance they had taken upon the ship, before turning back to the girl, his dark eyes glinting with his obvious displeasure. "You didn't forget. I just never bothered to tell you. As I never asked for yours, in turn." The tone used by Kreios was as flat as the desert came, and held an obvious note of disinterest mingled with a hint of irritation as he continued, "But names are unnecessary. You just have to stay out of the way. Your meals will be delivered to your quarters, so there is no need to avail yourself on deck."
Scowling as if he hoped he got his point across, Kreios turned on his heel and headed towards the galley. Meals were of small matter to the man, for Kreios ate to live, instead of the other way around like many. As much as he would like to forgo food entirely though, his body liked to make its need for sustenance known every few hours, and he would have little choice. While the food aboard a ship was not pretty, he would scarf down whatever was served (usually salted meat, biscuits, cheese, peas and sea biscuits), before resuming his duties and concocting new mixtures for his clients.
There were many good things to be said of Neena (she hoped) but one of them was that she wasn't smug. She did not gloat nor crow when right. She simply contradicted or stated her opinion or fact and if she was then proven to be correct (such as when the captain had confirmed her words to grumpy man that was her transporter) she just moved on. Her information being accurate was all she needed and Neena felt no desire to highlight that alongside someone else being wrong. It didn't, after all, make her any stronger to show off someone else's weakness. The idea simply didn't enter her mind. So, whilst she might be annoying to some. She wasn't an arrogant annoyance.
When the man she was conversing with - who clearly wanted to converse with her in no way shape or form - turned his attention to the captain, Neena followed him with her eyes by spinning on the spot. Then when he flounced straight past her and headed back down the ship towards the galley she hopped, skipped and jumped her way down the steps and headed straight after him.
"You'll have to allow me to thank you then." She told the man in response to his comment about not having a need to walk about the deck. She hurried her steps up so that she could nip past the man and then turn to walk backwards in front of him, her hands laced behind her back and her steps confident. His vessel was almost the exact same bearings and shape as the one she had grown up on and she knew that thing like the back of her hand. She had no need to look where she was going and the men who were working nearby seemed drawn to watch her (dark skin and a bright dress on a ship would do that) so they were able to see her coming and move hurriedly out of her way. She wrinkled her nose. "I hate living a life of needs, don't you? Now I can move around the deck because I want to rather than because you need me to." She shot him a bright smile, knowing she'd deliberately misconstrued his words and knowing that he would know that she would know that... She internally frowned but that sounded right.
In short, Neena was having fun.
She wasn't a person who deliberately tried to get under other peoples’ skin. Or maliciously sort or make others upset. But she couldn't help some of her reactions when she was faced with someone determined to live through life with a sour expression on their faces. And if that meant poking until she got a reaction then she had no issues putting her head in the lion's mouth. Anger was better than nothing and any emotion, once achieved, could be turned positive. You just had to find the right buttons to push.
So thinking, Neena allowed her brow to furrow as she watched him, adjusting her pace to his. If he stopped or slowed, or tried to avoid her, she adjusted her pace or side stepped a little...
"Why are you so discontented with me?" She asked him, completely ignoring his comments about cargo not normally talking. "I've been nothing but friendly to you and yet you seem determined to dislike me." Her frown broke into a little smile as she turned her head quizzically. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" She pinched the tip of her tongue between her teeth.
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There were many good things to be said of Neena (she hoped) but one of them was that she wasn't smug. She did not gloat nor crow when right. She simply contradicted or stated her opinion or fact and if she was then proven to be correct (such as when the captain had confirmed her words to grumpy man that was her transporter) she just moved on. Her information being accurate was all she needed and Neena felt no desire to highlight that alongside someone else being wrong. It didn't, after all, make her any stronger to show off someone else's weakness. The idea simply didn't enter her mind. So, whilst she might be annoying to some. She wasn't an arrogant annoyance.
When the man she was conversing with - who clearly wanted to converse with her in no way shape or form - turned his attention to the captain, Neena followed him with her eyes by spinning on the spot. Then when he flounced straight past her and headed back down the ship towards the galley she hopped, skipped and jumped her way down the steps and headed straight after him.
"You'll have to allow me to thank you then." She told the man in response to his comment about not having a need to walk about the deck. She hurried her steps up so that she could nip past the man and then turn to walk backwards in front of him, her hands laced behind her back and her steps confident. His vessel was almost the exact same bearings and shape as the one she had grown up on and she knew that thing like the back of her hand. She had no need to look where she was going and the men who were working nearby seemed drawn to watch her (dark skin and a bright dress on a ship would do that) so they were able to see her coming and move hurriedly out of her way. She wrinkled her nose. "I hate living a life of needs, don't you? Now I can move around the deck because I want to rather than because you need me to." She shot him a bright smile, knowing she'd deliberately misconstrued his words and knowing that he would know that she would know that... She internally frowned but that sounded right.
In short, Neena was having fun.
She wasn't a person who deliberately tried to get under other peoples’ skin. Or maliciously sort or make others upset. But she couldn't help some of her reactions when she was faced with someone determined to live through life with a sour expression on their faces. And if that meant poking until she got a reaction then she had no issues putting her head in the lion's mouth. Anger was better than nothing and any emotion, once achieved, could be turned positive. You just had to find the right buttons to push.
So thinking, Neena allowed her brow to furrow as she watched him, adjusting her pace to his. If he stopped or slowed, or tried to avoid her, she adjusted her pace or side stepped a little...
"Why are you so discontented with me?" She asked him, completely ignoring his comments about cargo not normally talking. "I've been nothing but friendly to you and yet you seem determined to dislike me." Her frown broke into a little smile as she turned her head quizzically. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" She pinched the tip of her tongue between her teeth.
There were many good things to be said of Neena (she hoped) but one of them was that she wasn't smug. She did not gloat nor crow when right. She simply contradicted or stated her opinion or fact and if she was then proven to be correct (such as when the captain had confirmed her words to grumpy man that was her transporter) she just moved on. Her information being accurate was all she needed and Neena felt no desire to highlight that alongside someone else being wrong. It didn't, after all, make her any stronger to show off someone else's weakness. The idea simply didn't enter her mind. So, whilst she might be annoying to some. She wasn't an arrogant annoyance.
When the man she was conversing with - who clearly wanted to converse with her in no way shape or form - turned his attention to the captain, Neena followed him with her eyes by spinning on the spot. Then when he flounced straight past her and headed back down the ship towards the galley she hopped, skipped and jumped her way down the steps and headed straight after him.
"You'll have to allow me to thank you then." She told the man in response to his comment about not having a need to walk about the deck. She hurried her steps up so that she could nip past the man and then turn to walk backwards in front of him, her hands laced behind her back and her steps confident. His vessel was almost the exact same bearings and shape as the one she had grown up on and she knew that thing like the back of her hand. She had no need to look where she was going and the men who were working nearby seemed drawn to watch her (dark skin and a bright dress on a ship would do that) so they were able to see her coming and move hurriedly out of her way. She wrinkled her nose. "I hate living a life of needs, don't you? Now I can move around the deck because I want to rather than because you need me to." She shot him a bright smile, knowing she'd deliberately misconstrued his words and knowing that he would know that she would know that... She internally frowned but that sounded right.
In short, Neena was having fun.
She wasn't a person who deliberately tried to get under other peoples’ skin. Or maliciously sort or make others upset. But she couldn't help some of her reactions when she was faced with someone determined to live through life with a sour expression on their faces. And if that meant poking until she got a reaction then she had no issues putting her head in the lion's mouth. Anger was better than nothing and any emotion, once achieved, could be turned positive. You just had to find the right buttons to push.
So thinking, Neena allowed her brow to furrow as she watched him, adjusting her pace to his. If he stopped or slowed, or tried to avoid her, she adjusted her pace or side stepped a little...
"Why are you so discontented with me?" She asked him, completely ignoring his comments about cargo not normally talking. "I've been nothing but friendly to you and yet you seem determined to dislike me." Her frown broke into a little smile as she turned her head quizzically. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" She pinched the tip of her tongue between her teeth.
Did she not know when to quit? While Kreios enjoyed having Typhon at his heels, the dog's presence was a significant difference from that of the cargo he had inadvertently taken on to his ship. Obviously a social butterfly by nature, she seemed to be unable to take a hint even as Kreios attempted to dissuade her from having a conversation.
He had paused in surprise for a moment when she had darted past him to start walking backward, only for his scowl to darken when he finally realized what she was doing. Had she been a tossed away slave then? Because if she had, the merchant could really see why. This could be a tactic one used to get themselves away from the life of a slave, yet none that he thought of could explain how she came into possession of a pink diamond that Kreios had accepted as payment, now stowed safely away in his quarters.
Scowling as he doggedly pushed forward, not at all bothering that he was likely pushing her into a corner, and in fact almost hoping that he did that, her words seem to come like bullets at him, even with a proverbial shield that he held up. "Sadly, our lives are constrained by a variety of needs, as you so put it." he bit out in an impatient tone. "One of which being you need to stay out of the way, in case you get in the way of the crew."
Unable to comprehend how someone could be so dense as to what he actually requested of her, he eventually managed to make his way to the galley where the cook was quick to hand him a platter of cheese, salted meat, and biscuits with a small tin of broth. Her question came just as he turned to head towards the deck, and Kreios paused in his movement. Why exactly did he feel so annoyed by her? Largely due to her disposition and chatter, likely. He was a lone wolf, quite used to being by himself, and not at all enjoying the company of others. To have some so incessant in talking his ear off irritated him. To befriend someone so easily, did not sit well with Kreios. His life had been one of either deceit or mutual benefit. And in the case of himself and his inadvertent cargo, he had gotten his benefit, and she had gotten hers.
He simply saw no point in continuing any form of relationship, spoken or not.
"No." he scowled, his tone deadpan as his boots made hollow noises whilst he made his way across the deck. His lips pursed into a whistle, and in no time at all, Typhon came running up, tail wagging with Descat running behind him. Kreios was quick to dismiss his slave boy, before starting to feed his new dog the biscuits provided on his platter, alternating it with the salted meat and cheese through his own lips. "I simply see no reason why talk is necessary. You have gotten what you want. I have gotten my payment. We can leave it as that." While there had been no proper reason why Kreios had to explain himself, he was usually one who behaved fairly, and he saw no reason why he needed to smite someone for no proper reason. For now, anyway.
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Did she not know when to quit? While Kreios enjoyed having Typhon at his heels, the dog's presence was a significant difference from that of the cargo he had inadvertently taken on to his ship. Obviously a social butterfly by nature, she seemed to be unable to take a hint even as Kreios attempted to dissuade her from having a conversation.
He had paused in surprise for a moment when she had darted past him to start walking backward, only for his scowl to darken when he finally realized what she was doing. Had she been a tossed away slave then? Because if she had, the merchant could really see why. This could be a tactic one used to get themselves away from the life of a slave, yet none that he thought of could explain how she came into possession of a pink diamond that Kreios had accepted as payment, now stowed safely away in his quarters.
Scowling as he doggedly pushed forward, not at all bothering that he was likely pushing her into a corner, and in fact almost hoping that he did that, her words seem to come like bullets at him, even with a proverbial shield that he held up. "Sadly, our lives are constrained by a variety of needs, as you so put it." he bit out in an impatient tone. "One of which being you need to stay out of the way, in case you get in the way of the crew."
Unable to comprehend how someone could be so dense as to what he actually requested of her, he eventually managed to make his way to the galley where the cook was quick to hand him a platter of cheese, salted meat, and biscuits with a small tin of broth. Her question came just as he turned to head towards the deck, and Kreios paused in his movement. Why exactly did he feel so annoyed by her? Largely due to her disposition and chatter, likely. He was a lone wolf, quite used to being by himself, and not at all enjoying the company of others. To have some so incessant in talking his ear off irritated him. To befriend someone so easily, did not sit well with Kreios. His life had been one of either deceit or mutual benefit. And in the case of himself and his inadvertent cargo, he had gotten his benefit, and she had gotten hers.
He simply saw no point in continuing any form of relationship, spoken or not.
"No." he scowled, his tone deadpan as his boots made hollow noises whilst he made his way across the deck. His lips pursed into a whistle, and in no time at all, Typhon came running up, tail wagging with Descat running behind him. Kreios was quick to dismiss his slave boy, before starting to feed his new dog the biscuits provided on his platter, alternating it with the salted meat and cheese through his own lips. "I simply see no reason why talk is necessary. You have gotten what you want. I have gotten my payment. We can leave it as that." While there had been no proper reason why Kreios had to explain himself, he was usually one who behaved fairly, and he saw no reason why he needed to smite someone for no proper reason. For now, anyway.
Did she not know when to quit? While Kreios enjoyed having Typhon at his heels, the dog's presence was a significant difference from that of the cargo he had inadvertently taken on to his ship. Obviously a social butterfly by nature, she seemed to be unable to take a hint even as Kreios attempted to dissuade her from having a conversation.
He had paused in surprise for a moment when she had darted past him to start walking backward, only for his scowl to darken when he finally realized what she was doing. Had she been a tossed away slave then? Because if she had, the merchant could really see why. This could be a tactic one used to get themselves away from the life of a slave, yet none that he thought of could explain how she came into possession of a pink diamond that Kreios had accepted as payment, now stowed safely away in his quarters.
Scowling as he doggedly pushed forward, not at all bothering that he was likely pushing her into a corner, and in fact almost hoping that he did that, her words seem to come like bullets at him, even with a proverbial shield that he held up. "Sadly, our lives are constrained by a variety of needs, as you so put it." he bit out in an impatient tone. "One of which being you need to stay out of the way, in case you get in the way of the crew."
Unable to comprehend how someone could be so dense as to what he actually requested of her, he eventually managed to make his way to the galley where the cook was quick to hand him a platter of cheese, salted meat, and biscuits with a small tin of broth. Her question came just as he turned to head towards the deck, and Kreios paused in his movement. Why exactly did he feel so annoyed by her? Largely due to her disposition and chatter, likely. He was a lone wolf, quite used to being by himself, and not at all enjoying the company of others. To have some so incessant in talking his ear off irritated him. To befriend someone so easily, did not sit well with Kreios. His life had been one of either deceit or mutual benefit. And in the case of himself and his inadvertent cargo, he had gotten his benefit, and she had gotten hers.
He simply saw no point in continuing any form of relationship, spoken or not.
"No." he scowled, his tone deadpan as his boots made hollow noises whilst he made his way across the deck. His lips pursed into a whistle, and in no time at all, Typhon came running up, tail wagging with Descat running behind him. Kreios was quick to dismiss his slave boy, before starting to feed his new dog the biscuits provided on his platter, alternating it with the salted meat and cheese through his own lips. "I simply see no reason why talk is necessary. You have gotten what you want. I have gotten my payment. We can leave it as that." While there had been no proper reason why Kreios had to explain himself, he was usually one who behaved fairly, and he saw no reason why he needed to smite someone for no proper reason. For now, anyway.
Neena followed the man with the black hair and darker disposition around his ship without issue. She noticed and ignored his hints for her to leave him alone and she knew she was being annoying. The difference was, she just didn't care. Had the man cracked a smile or shown any indication of giving in, Neena would have probably left him alone and carried on her journey without much issue. She liked people and she liked making friends, but she also wasn't one to waste the limited time she had in the mortal realm. Which meant that she was never one to push where she wasn't wanted or where she found there to be little to interest her...
But being so decidedly unwanted - to the point where she was being given a serious cold shoulder - only meant that she found extreme interest in pushing to seek out that moment of reaction or acceptance. Like a child who had been told no so often that they just wanted to bargain, plead and bug their parent for a "yes" even if they didn't actually want the thing they were fighting over anymore.
It was ironic that the man had basically sealed his fate in her being his constant companion until they reached Greece, because now she was a dog with a bone. Entertainment on a ship was limited and she had just found her main source, simply because it was the last thing that this man wanted.
"Needs... Necessary..." Neena mused to herself in a voice that was loud enough for the man she was following to hear her. "Dear sir, you lead a horrendously boring life. Do you ever do something just because you want to?" She asked him, continuing her nagging ways as she followed him along the deck and back up towards the captain. The man had food now and given that he hadn't offered her any, she had not taken any. She wasn't hungry anyway.
She shook her head as the man stopped by his captain and his dog moved forwards to sniff at her leg. She smiled down at it and reached down gently and slowly enough that it would let her scratch it behind the ear for just a moment before she released it to go back to its owner.
"I shall leave you to ponder on the error of your ways then, my friend." She told him, when it was clear that he was reaching the end of his tether and patience with her. She wanted to have some fun with him, not get herself thrown overboard. She looked out across the bow and frowned at the perfectly clear sky. She felt a drop in the temperature of the wind and a sudden roughness to the flow of the breeze. It was something Hektor had taught her when she was little - wind-reading. There were those who gave their whole lives to reading the wind and waves and she was far from being as skilled as they, but she knew the basics.
"I'll leave your crew alone this morning." She told the man with a tone of voice that was more considerate and serious than she had used before. "A storm will be here in a few hours."
Her words probably seemed ridiculous to those less used to the sea, for the sky was a clear and fresh blue. But she was certain that just beyond that horizon lurked some serious cloud cover that would have them in dark and dingy fog and heavy rainfall soon enough.
In order to avoid being yelled at or accused of being in the way, Neena headed down below deck to avoid the men as they did - or did not, depending on how astute the captain was - readied the ship for passing through a heavy storm. She could have helped out. Hell, she was more comfortable and familiar with the running of a ship than she was any kind of domestic setting on land - but she wasn't about to get in someone's way of have any issues blamed on her later. She knew when it was wise to avoid herself being placed in a position of blame.
Within a few hours, her prophecy of the weather had come to pass. The room in which she kept herself moved from a gentle rocking to a heavy shaking and then on to serious tilts and turns. Had Neena been used to land over water, standing upright would have had her falling from one side of the cabin to the other, the movement of the ship was so abrupt. But she was used to this kind of vessel and she dipped low, bent her knees generously and moved from one side to the other to counteract the movement.
Shouts and calls could be heard from above, the roar of the sea from the sides and below. The room was deafening in its noise and hearing some of the panicked tones from her fellow sailors, Neena decided that blame was hardly something to fear when there were larger problems afoot.
Flinging the door of her cabin open and hurrying back up the little stairs, Neena's head broke through to above deck and was instantly assaulted by wind and rain. The water plastered her hair to her scalp and neck, her clothing flattened to her skin. The wind was bitter cold and seemed to slice through her like a knife, her skin instantly raising into gooseflesh. Shaking her head and flinging a hand across her eyes so she could see again, Neena's head zipped from one side to the other, surveying the situation quickly and working out the best way that she could help...
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Neena followed the man with the black hair and darker disposition around his ship without issue. She noticed and ignored his hints for her to leave him alone and she knew she was being annoying. The difference was, she just didn't care. Had the man cracked a smile or shown any indication of giving in, Neena would have probably left him alone and carried on her journey without much issue. She liked people and she liked making friends, but she also wasn't one to waste the limited time she had in the mortal realm. Which meant that she was never one to push where she wasn't wanted or where she found there to be little to interest her...
But being so decidedly unwanted - to the point where she was being given a serious cold shoulder - only meant that she found extreme interest in pushing to seek out that moment of reaction or acceptance. Like a child who had been told no so often that they just wanted to bargain, plead and bug their parent for a "yes" even if they didn't actually want the thing they were fighting over anymore.
It was ironic that the man had basically sealed his fate in her being his constant companion until they reached Greece, because now she was a dog with a bone. Entertainment on a ship was limited and she had just found her main source, simply because it was the last thing that this man wanted.
"Needs... Necessary..." Neena mused to herself in a voice that was loud enough for the man she was following to hear her. "Dear sir, you lead a horrendously boring life. Do you ever do something just because you want to?" She asked him, continuing her nagging ways as she followed him along the deck and back up towards the captain. The man had food now and given that he hadn't offered her any, she had not taken any. She wasn't hungry anyway.
She shook her head as the man stopped by his captain and his dog moved forwards to sniff at her leg. She smiled down at it and reached down gently and slowly enough that it would let her scratch it behind the ear for just a moment before she released it to go back to its owner.
"I shall leave you to ponder on the error of your ways then, my friend." She told him, when it was clear that he was reaching the end of his tether and patience with her. She wanted to have some fun with him, not get herself thrown overboard. She looked out across the bow and frowned at the perfectly clear sky. She felt a drop in the temperature of the wind and a sudden roughness to the flow of the breeze. It was something Hektor had taught her when she was little - wind-reading. There were those who gave their whole lives to reading the wind and waves and she was far from being as skilled as they, but she knew the basics.
"I'll leave your crew alone this morning." She told the man with a tone of voice that was more considerate and serious than she had used before. "A storm will be here in a few hours."
Her words probably seemed ridiculous to those less used to the sea, for the sky was a clear and fresh blue. But she was certain that just beyond that horizon lurked some serious cloud cover that would have them in dark and dingy fog and heavy rainfall soon enough.
In order to avoid being yelled at or accused of being in the way, Neena headed down below deck to avoid the men as they did - or did not, depending on how astute the captain was - readied the ship for passing through a heavy storm. She could have helped out. Hell, she was more comfortable and familiar with the running of a ship than she was any kind of domestic setting on land - but she wasn't about to get in someone's way of have any issues blamed on her later. She knew when it was wise to avoid herself being placed in a position of blame.
Within a few hours, her prophecy of the weather had come to pass. The room in which she kept herself moved from a gentle rocking to a heavy shaking and then on to serious tilts and turns. Had Neena been used to land over water, standing upright would have had her falling from one side of the cabin to the other, the movement of the ship was so abrupt. But she was used to this kind of vessel and she dipped low, bent her knees generously and moved from one side to the other to counteract the movement.
Shouts and calls could be heard from above, the roar of the sea from the sides and below. The room was deafening in its noise and hearing some of the panicked tones from her fellow sailors, Neena decided that blame was hardly something to fear when there were larger problems afoot.
Flinging the door of her cabin open and hurrying back up the little stairs, Neena's head broke through to above deck and was instantly assaulted by wind and rain. The water plastered her hair to her scalp and neck, her clothing flattened to her skin. The wind was bitter cold and seemed to slice through her like a knife, her skin instantly raising into gooseflesh. Shaking her head and flinging a hand across her eyes so she could see again, Neena's head zipped from one side to the other, surveying the situation quickly and working out the best way that she could help...
Neena followed the man with the black hair and darker disposition around his ship without issue. She noticed and ignored his hints for her to leave him alone and she knew she was being annoying. The difference was, she just didn't care. Had the man cracked a smile or shown any indication of giving in, Neena would have probably left him alone and carried on her journey without much issue. She liked people and she liked making friends, but she also wasn't one to waste the limited time she had in the mortal realm. Which meant that she was never one to push where she wasn't wanted or where she found there to be little to interest her...
But being so decidedly unwanted - to the point where she was being given a serious cold shoulder - only meant that she found extreme interest in pushing to seek out that moment of reaction or acceptance. Like a child who had been told no so often that they just wanted to bargain, plead and bug their parent for a "yes" even if they didn't actually want the thing they were fighting over anymore.
It was ironic that the man had basically sealed his fate in her being his constant companion until they reached Greece, because now she was a dog with a bone. Entertainment on a ship was limited and she had just found her main source, simply because it was the last thing that this man wanted.
"Needs... Necessary..." Neena mused to herself in a voice that was loud enough for the man she was following to hear her. "Dear sir, you lead a horrendously boring life. Do you ever do something just because you want to?" She asked him, continuing her nagging ways as she followed him along the deck and back up towards the captain. The man had food now and given that he hadn't offered her any, she had not taken any. She wasn't hungry anyway.
She shook her head as the man stopped by his captain and his dog moved forwards to sniff at her leg. She smiled down at it and reached down gently and slowly enough that it would let her scratch it behind the ear for just a moment before she released it to go back to its owner.
"I shall leave you to ponder on the error of your ways then, my friend." She told him, when it was clear that he was reaching the end of his tether and patience with her. She wanted to have some fun with him, not get herself thrown overboard. She looked out across the bow and frowned at the perfectly clear sky. She felt a drop in the temperature of the wind and a sudden roughness to the flow of the breeze. It was something Hektor had taught her when she was little - wind-reading. There were those who gave their whole lives to reading the wind and waves and she was far from being as skilled as they, but she knew the basics.
"I'll leave your crew alone this morning." She told the man with a tone of voice that was more considerate and serious than she had used before. "A storm will be here in a few hours."
Her words probably seemed ridiculous to those less used to the sea, for the sky was a clear and fresh blue. But she was certain that just beyond that horizon lurked some serious cloud cover that would have them in dark and dingy fog and heavy rainfall soon enough.
In order to avoid being yelled at or accused of being in the way, Neena headed down below deck to avoid the men as they did - or did not, depending on how astute the captain was - readied the ship for passing through a heavy storm. She could have helped out. Hell, she was more comfortable and familiar with the running of a ship than she was any kind of domestic setting on land - but she wasn't about to get in someone's way of have any issues blamed on her later. She knew when it was wise to avoid herself being placed in a position of blame.
Within a few hours, her prophecy of the weather had come to pass. The room in which she kept herself moved from a gentle rocking to a heavy shaking and then on to serious tilts and turns. Had Neena been used to land over water, standing upright would have had her falling from one side of the cabin to the other, the movement of the ship was so abrupt. But she was used to this kind of vessel and she dipped low, bent her knees generously and moved from one side to the other to counteract the movement.
Shouts and calls could be heard from above, the roar of the sea from the sides and below. The room was deafening in its noise and hearing some of the panicked tones from her fellow sailors, Neena decided that blame was hardly something to fear when there were larger problems afoot.
Flinging the door of her cabin open and hurrying back up the little stairs, Neena's head broke through to above deck and was instantly assaulted by wind and rain. The water plastered her hair to her scalp and neck, her clothing flattened to her skin. The wind was bitter cold and seemed to slice through her like a knife, her skin instantly raising into gooseflesh. Shaking her head and flinging a hand across her eyes so she could see again, Neena's head zipped from one side to the other, surveying the situation quickly and working out the best way that she could help...
Well, at least she knew how to get a hint. While others may be surprised, or even offended by his actions, to a certain extent, Kreios breathed a sigh of relief when the bronzed skin cargo of his ship flounced off, apparently finally getting what he was getting at - not that he had been very subtle, really. He had even left her last query unanswered, instead allowing his actions be the answer. Fact of the matter was that Kreios simply had little time to experience frivolous things such as a 'want'. A busy man with ambitions to achieve, he had no time in his day to go and think of what he 'wanted' versus what he 'needed to do'.
Breathing a sigh of relief as Neena finally stopped hounding his every step, Kreios whistled for his hound to heel, snorted in disbelief at her final words, and was quick to duck beneath deck, returning to his room for some much appreciated peace and quiet. Most of the time, this room was where Kreios could be found as the Azazel sailed, a place where most of the crew would know how to find him. It was a pristinely kept room, each piece of furniture nailed down, and each small pigeon-hole space locked shut. As the ship swayed, one could hear the light cling of glass within it, vials of his concoctions stored in some, while others held dried herbs he would need to use. Each small door was labelled so Kreios would know exactly where he needed to go for each item, and right in the middle of his workspace, was a tall, square and sturdy table, complete with a stool.
Typhon was quick to duck under the table, a space he had found solitude in over the past day Kreios had brought him on board. It was there that the blue-gray hound wound in a ball and lay his head on his front paws, tail curled to quickly fall asleep. The human however, was quick to get to work. He had procured interesting, even new items during his week-long jaunt to Egypt, and was eager to get his hands on working with some of them.
While he kept his ears perked for any unusual sound (for this was the first time he had acquiesced to having a human cargo on board), he was careful in his work, grinding herbs and leaves to fine powder, and measuring them out before mixing them together with base oils or liquids. Soon, the room was filled with the mixed scents of herbs and poisonous leaves, some of which useful, others deadly, but all under the merchant's careful control. With his new canine companion, Kreios had to exercise extra caution not to let a drop of his concoctions fall, at least till he's had time to train Typhon to not lick stuff off the ground in this room.
Indulging in his work, it was a long while, before a sudden jolt of the ship caused his hold on a glass vial to slip. Shattering on the ground, Kreios could not even bring himself to catch it, for his stool had tipped as well, and Typhon had started growling. Yet the eyes of the hound was not on the shattered vial, but on the closed door leading to the exterior of his workspace.
Only then, did Kreios realized that the conditions outside had likely changed. When he had entered below deck, the skies had been clear, a fresh blue that usually signalled a beautiful day. Yet now, if the dark-haired merchant listened closer, he could hear the loud thunder, further cemented by the rough way in which the ship now moved. The vials within rang clearly as the Azazel was tossed around by what was obviously ugly weather, and Kreios bit out a curse, as he stumbled to the door. He signalled at the wolfhound to remain in the chambers, using his legs to sweep the broken glass in to a box he kept in a corner for waste, before heading out.
And it was outside, that it hit the merchant how strong the storm was, that currently held them in its grips. He turned to the stairs up the deck, just in time to see a pair of female feet hurrying up, and the merchant bit bck another curse. She would be a bother to the bunch of sailors! Trying to keep his ship afloat in this weather would be hard work in and of itself, without having to care for a hapless female!
As much as she had annoyed him, Kreios was a man of his values, and keeping a hold on the sides of the corridor leading up to the decks, he struggled his way up the little stairwell. Within seconds of him breaching the exit to deck, his black shirt was plastered to his body as the rain and wind assaulted him. Hair was sodden before one could take a breathe, and Kreios blinked, struggling to gain his vision as the rain lashed at his eyesight. While being the owner of his ship, he rarely got in the way of his crew in such situations, for Kreios himself was no sailor. He had intended to bring Typhon back to his rooms, which were much more secure for such weather, if not for the pesky cargo who, apparently, had decided to stand and watch. Did she think it to be a show?
"Polylogás, what do you think you're doing up here!" Kreios yelled over the sheets of rain being hammered against them as he drew nearer. Reaching out, his fingers had just managed to grip around her elbow, when a loud creaking from above made him look up.
The sailors had secured the sails the moment the weather turned, well trained by the captain to do so. But whether it was a careless mistake, or that equipments needed to be changed, whatever the reason was, somehow in the midst of the heavy rain and strong winds, a section of the foresail had managed to come free from the gaskets, and was now causing the ship to swing wildly as the wind catches the sail. Shouts and yells could be heard from the sailors as a few of them clambered to the top to try and secure it, but with their vision hampered by the rain and the cold wind slicing like knives, the struggle was obvious even despite their experience.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Well, at least she knew how to get a hint. While others may be surprised, or even offended by his actions, to a certain extent, Kreios breathed a sigh of relief when the bronzed skin cargo of his ship flounced off, apparently finally getting what he was getting at - not that he had been very subtle, really. He had even left her last query unanswered, instead allowing his actions be the answer. Fact of the matter was that Kreios simply had little time to experience frivolous things such as a 'want'. A busy man with ambitions to achieve, he had no time in his day to go and think of what he 'wanted' versus what he 'needed to do'.
Breathing a sigh of relief as Neena finally stopped hounding his every step, Kreios whistled for his hound to heel, snorted in disbelief at her final words, and was quick to duck beneath deck, returning to his room for some much appreciated peace and quiet. Most of the time, this room was where Kreios could be found as the Azazel sailed, a place where most of the crew would know how to find him. It was a pristinely kept room, each piece of furniture nailed down, and each small pigeon-hole space locked shut. As the ship swayed, one could hear the light cling of glass within it, vials of his concoctions stored in some, while others held dried herbs he would need to use. Each small door was labelled so Kreios would know exactly where he needed to go for each item, and right in the middle of his workspace, was a tall, square and sturdy table, complete with a stool.
Typhon was quick to duck under the table, a space he had found solitude in over the past day Kreios had brought him on board. It was there that the blue-gray hound wound in a ball and lay his head on his front paws, tail curled to quickly fall asleep. The human however, was quick to get to work. He had procured interesting, even new items during his week-long jaunt to Egypt, and was eager to get his hands on working with some of them.
While he kept his ears perked for any unusual sound (for this was the first time he had acquiesced to having a human cargo on board), he was careful in his work, grinding herbs and leaves to fine powder, and measuring them out before mixing them together with base oils or liquids. Soon, the room was filled with the mixed scents of herbs and poisonous leaves, some of which useful, others deadly, but all under the merchant's careful control. With his new canine companion, Kreios had to exercise extra caution not to let a drop of his concoctions fall, at least till he's had time to train Typhon to not lick stuff off the ground in this room.
Indulging in his work, it was a long while, before a sudden jolt of the ship caused his hold on a glass vial to slip. Shattering on the ground, Kreios could not even bring himself to catch it, for his stool had tipped as well, and Typhon had started growling. Yet the eyes of the hound was not on the shattered vial, but on the closed door leading to the exterior of his workspace.
Only then, did Kreios realized that the conditions outside had likely changed. When he had entered below deck, the skies had been clear, a fresh blue that usually signalled a beautiful day. Yet now, if the dark-haired merchant listened closer, he could hear the loud thunder, further cemented by the rough way in which the ship now moved. The vials within rang clearly as the Azazel was tossed around by what was obviously ugly weather, and Kreios bit out a curse, as he stumbled to the door. He signalled at the wolfhound to remain in the chambers, using his legs to sweep the broken glass in to a box he kept in a corner for waste, before heading out.
And it was outside, that it hit the merchant how strong the storm was, that currently held them in its grips. He turned to the stairs up the deck, just in time to see a pair of female feet hurrying up, and the merchant bit bck another curse. She would be a bother to the bunch of sailors! Trying to keep his ship afloat in this weather would be hard work in and of itself, without having to care for a hapless female!
As much as she had annoyed him, Kreios was a man of his values, and keeping a hold on the sides of the corridor leading up to the decks, he struggled his way up the little stairwell. Within seconds of him breaching the exit to deck, his black shirt was plastered to his body as the rain and wind assaulted him. Hair was sodden before one could take a breathe, and Kreios blinked, struggling to gain his vision as the rain lashed at his eyesight. While being the owner of his ship, he rarely got in the way of his crew in such situations, for Kreios himself was no sailor. He had intended to bring Typhon back to his rooms, which were much more secure for such weather, if not for the pesky cargo who, apparently, had decided to stand and watch. Did she think it to be a show?
"Polylogás, what do you think you're doing up here!" Kreios yelled over the sheets of rain being hammered against them as he drew nearer. Reaching out, his fingers had just managed to grip around her elbow, when a loud creaking from above made him look up.
The sailors had secured the sails the moment the weather turned, well trained by the captain to do so. But whether it was a careless mistake, or that equipments needed to be changed, whatever the reason was, somehow in the midst of the heavy rain and strong winds, a section of the foresail had managed to come free from the gaskets, and was now causing the ship to swing wildly as the wind catches the sail. Shouts and yells could be heard from the sailors as a few of them clambered to the top to try and secure it, but with their vision hampered by the rain and the cold wind slicing like knives, the struggle was obvious even despite their experience.
Well, at least she knew how to get a hint. While others may be surprised, or even offended by his actions, to a certain extent, Kreios breathed a sigh of relief when the bronzed skin cargo of his ship flounced off, apparently finally getting what he was getting at - not that he had been very subtle, really. He had even left her last query unanswered, instead allowing his actions be the answer. Fact of the matter was that Kreios simply had little time to experience frivolous things such as a 'want'. A busy man with ambitions to achieve, he had no time in his day to go and think of what he 'wanted' versus what he 'needed to do'.
Breathing a sigh of relief as Neena finally stopped hounding his every step, Kreios whistled for his hound to heel, snorted in disbelief at her final words, and was quick to duck beneath deck, returning to his room for some much appreciated peace and quiet. Most of the time, this room was where Kreios could be found as the Azazel sailed, a place where most of the crew would know how to find him. It was a pristinely kept room, each piece of furniture nailed down, and each small pigeon-hole space locked shut. As the ship swayed, one could hear the light cling of glass within it, vials of his concoctions stored in some, while others held dried herbs he would need to use. Each small door was labelled so Kreios would know exactly where he needed to go for each item, and right in the middle of his workspace, was a tall, square and sturdy table, complete with a stool.
Typhon was quick to duck under the table, a space he had found solitude in over the past day Kreios had brought him on board. It was there that the blue-gray hound wound in a ball and lay his head on his front paws, tail curled to quickly fall asleep. The human however, was quick to get to work. He had procured interesting, even new items during his week-long jaunt to Egypt, and was eager to get his hands on working with some of them.
While he kept his ears perked for any unusual sound (for this was the first time he had acquiesced to having a human cargo on board), he was careful in his work, grinding herbs and leaves to fine powder, and measuring them out before mixing them together with base oils or liquids. Soon, the room was filled with the mixed scents of herbs and poisonous leaves, some of which useful, others deadly, but all under the merchant's careful control. With his new canine companion, Kreios had to exercise extra caution not to let a drop of his concoctions fall, at least till he's had time to train Typhon to not lick stuff off the ground in this room.
Indulging in his work, it was a long while, before a sudden jolt of the ship caused his hold on a glass vial to slip. Shattering on the ground, Kreios could not even bring himself to catch it, for his stool had tipped as well, and Typhon had started growling. Yet the eyes of the hound was not on the shattered vial, but on the closed door leading to the exterior of his workspace.
Only then, did Kreios realized that the conditions outside had likely changed. When he had entered below deck, the skies had been clear, a fresh blue that usually signalled a beautiful day. Yet now, if the dark-haired merchant listened closer, he could hear the loud thunder, further cemented by the rough way in which the ship now moved. The vials within rang clearly as the Azazel was tossed around by what was obviously ugly weather, and Kreios bit out a curse, as he stumbled to the door. He signalled at the wolfhound to remain in the chambers, using his legs to sweep the broken glass in to a box he kept in a corner for waste, before heading out.
And it was outside, that it hit the merchant how strong the storm was, that currently held them in its grips. He turned to the stairs up the deck, just in time to see a pair of female feet hurrying up, and the merchant bit bck another curse. She would be a bother to the bunch of sailors! Trying to keep his ship afloat in this weather would be hard work in and of itself, without having to care for a hapless female!
As much as she had annoyed him, Kreios was a man of his values, and keeping a hold on the sides of the corridor leading up to the decks, he struggled his way up the little stairwell. Within seconds of him breaching the exit to deck, his black shirt was plastered to his body as the rain and wind assaulted him. Hair was sodden before one could take a breathe, and Kreios blinked, struggling to gain his vision as the rain lashed at his eyesight. While being the owner of his ship, he rarely got in the way of his crew in such situations, for Kreios himself was no sailor. He had intended to bring Typhon back to his rooms, which were much more secure for such weather, if not for the pesky cargo who, apparently, had decided to stand and watch. Did she think it to be a show?
"Polylogás, what do you think you're doing up here!" Kreios yelled over the sheets of rain being hammered against them as he drew nearer. Reaching out, his fingers had just managed to grip around her elbow, when a loud creaking from above made him look up.
The sailors had secured the sails the moment the weather turned, well trained by the captain to do so. But whether it was a careless mistake, or that equipments needed to be changed, whatever the reason was, somehow in the midst of the heavy rain and strong winds, a section of the foresail had managed to come free from the gaskets, and was now causing the ship to swing wildly as the wind catches the sail. Shouts and yells could be heard from the sailors as a few of them clambered to the top to try and secure it, but with their vision hampered by the rain and the cold wind slicing like knives, the struggle was obvious even despite their experience.
The rain was bad. A full-on storm unleashed upon the sea in torrents of the stuff. The sheets of water hit hard, flattening clothing to body and stinging skin with every lash. It was hard to see as water ran from the crown of Neena's head, down through her sodden hair and running into her eyes. What was worse than the rain, however, was the wind. An element of the world so invaluable for sailing, it could turn so easily into a ship darkest and most treacherous enemy. The rain pouring from the sky would have been no more damning than being dunked in a bath, no more disturbing than a few pumps or buckets of bailing couldn't solve. But the wind made it all the more dangerous. The sea was in turmoil, the ship rocking back and forth to dangerous angles, the rain itself pounding harder and heavier against everything - the wooden body of the ship and the fleshy beings aboard it - because of its fuelling by the hurricane around them.
Unlike some people's misconceptions assumed, Neena stood at the entrance of the steps below, not because what lay before her was a show for her entertainment but because her eyes were scouring. They shot between the tangles of rope, the knots and fastenings, the areas weakest when sodden and slippery. She noted the moorings and if they were secure, the lifelines that the men were tying in place around the mast, the tying down of everything heavy or moveable aboard the deck. A good sailor didn't charge into a high pressure situation, in the middle of a storm, determined to fix things. That kind of attitude only ended with more issues or someone falling into the drink. The best process was to watch, assess and do only what was an emergency and necessary in the moment. Everything else that was not such a disaster could wait.
Neena was distracted from her assessment, however, when a large hand grabbed ahold of her chilled arm, the rainwater slipping between his palm and her bicep, causing him to tighten his hold. Her head spun to find her grumpy non-captain hair even blacker than it had been before sodden to skin so pale it was almost luminescent in the dingy light of the storm. His eyes and expression were like death as he surveyed the scene with only anger and contempt at what was going on around him.
"Oh yeah, yell at the Gods!" Neena yelled back at him over the storm, as the man cried out for explanation. "That'll help!" He tone was a little chiding, her flippant and happy-go-lucky attitude lost in the severity of the situation. Neena looked on the bright side at all times. She was never someone to make a situation worse with anger and resentment. But that didn't mean she didn't also realise and understand the seriousness of a situation that threatened the lives of those on board the ship.
As she opened her mouth to tell him to release her arm, Neena heard the same almighty crack that Kreios did and looked up to see the gaskets of the foresail release and the boom of the main sheeting fall down hard. Luckily, the wind caught it and sent the boom flying dangerously across the deck as the sailors ducked or dropped to the floor. Still, even with the baton swinging violently around them, it was still better than if the weight of the wood had fallen down hard with only gravity to guide it. Without the guidance lines loop around the sail's boom and secured to the gaskets, the weight of the thing would have torn the sail in two.
Ducking to avoid the swing, and feeling Kreios do the same beside her, Neena's head was down and her eyes spotted his feet on the deck. When able to stand again, she snatched her arm from his grip with a severe jerk that likely only worked because of the water rendering his hold slippery.
"Take off your boots!” She yelled at him, with a pointed finger at his feet beside her bare toes. "You'll slip and end up in the sea!"
And before he could stop her again, Neena to the opportunity of him looking down where she pointed, to then run off across the deck.
The boom continued to swing dangerously, the pin lost, and the guide lines swinging freely down by the mast. They needed to be looped beneath the boom, then secured at the top of the mast where they could be hoisted, taking the beam up with them and securing the foresail to the t-bar. The problem was that several of them had snapped and hung loose and the men along the top of the mast couldn't collectively lift the weight of the boom without all of the lines in place. Knowing what she was about to do was probably stupidly dangerous, Neena ran forwards and quickly snagged ahold of the three lines that had come loose. Finding a free length of coiled rope at the base of the mast where it was normally kept on a ship for emergencies, Neena pulled the little dagger she kept tied to her thigh from its mooring and sliced off a piece long enough to loop around her waists several times. Within a moment she had the piece looped around herself and fastened into a belt. It was then the work of a minute to have the three loose guide lines attached to temporary harness.
All she needed to do now, was get under the boom and then climb up the outer side of the foresail. Something that was probably a very stupid idea during a storm but when she knew she could do. It had been a challenge back on Hecktor's ship. When the men had all had a little too much to drink and wanted to see who was strongest, a contest was always proposed. Who could climb the lines of the foresail and pull up the boom with the most lines attached to themselves. Ergo, how many men's efforts could you shoulder alone whilst supporting yourself on a single rope, as you climbed to the top.
Neena's record had always been three.
But that had been a long time ago and decidedly not during a storm. But the muscles were still there right? It wasn't as if they disappeared. They were just out of practice.
Taking a breath, Neena ran towards the edge of the ship, before clambering onto the low wall that ran its circumference. She perched there, lines attached to her waist and sailors yelling at her, unwilling to cut rope they so desperately needed and demanding she come back down and release the guidelines. She ignored all of them, watching for the tilt of the ship and the swing of the boom. Curling her toes around the edge of the lip, holding on as the wind battered her and the rain assaulted her, Neena waited until the boom swung directly at her, looking for all the world like it was about to knock her off into the sea. With a carefully practiced jump from years ago, Neena sprang and latched onto one of the guiding lines still in place over the foresail. Her legs were tangled in the damp fabric for a moment but then she managed to secure her knees on either side of the rope and tangle her feet in the line, just as any sailor knew how to do.
Looking up, Neena met the face of the sailor at the opposing end of her line, who had been trying to haul his share before without the weight of a small human being and three new guidelines attached.
"Support the gasket!" She yelled at the man and whilst she doubted he could hear her words as they were muffled by the rain in her mouth and the wind rattling the sail around like a writhing snake, the sailor seemed to read her lips or know what she meant as he transferred his hold.
Instead of yelling angrily at her now, the sailors on the deck were able to see what she was doing and Neena prayed to the Gods she didn't now fail or cause more damage to the gaskets and sail for her efforts.
Carefully, and as quickly as she could, Neena repositioned her hands on the line above her head and started to haul. The men on the t-bar took their cue and did the same. Heaving her body up, Neena felt the lines catch the boom and the weight around her waist suddenly become unbearable. The rope cut into her hips and she suddenly remembered why they had always attached the lines to belts in their games - not thin strips of rope - and she felt her centre of gravity shift. She repositioned her hands higher, her biceps clenching against the weight, her hands tightening on the damp rope as she hauled herself up again, her knees and ankles following.
Slowly, the men and herself, with their combined strength, were able to haul the boom up a foot at a time.
Neena had to pause a few times to catch her breath, slipped once and fell several feet that sent the boom slipping at a dangerous angle, but she managed to correct herself quickly and continue moving forwards. By the time she reached the top, her waist was agony, the shin on her hips rubbed raw and her arms were on fire, but she did get there.
Finally, at the top, Neena heaved her belly over the top of the t-bar and then spun a leg over, straddling the thing alongside her fellow sailors. One of them slapped her on the shoulder, another reached out to help steady her thigh. Together, the group of them pulled and inched the sail the rest of the way. As the soft clunk of boom and t-bar meeting one another could be felt by the small team sitting on them they, as one, looped their legs beneath the boom to hold it in place and then start to re-tie and fasten the gaskets. The men either side of Neena helped to untie the lines from her waist and fasten those too and soon the foresail was once more secure.
The group of men - and Neena - held on fast when a heavy wind picked up, as if angered at their success, but slowly they were all able to descend to the deck once more, shimmying down the shaft of the mast...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Deleted
The rain was bad. A full-on storm unleashed upon the sea in torrents of the stuff. The sheets of water hit hard, flattening clothing to body and stinging skin with every lash. It was hard to see as water ran from the crown of Neena's head, down through her sodden hair and running into her eyes. What was worse than the rain, however, was the wind. An element of the world so invaluable for sailing, it could turn so easily into a ship darkest and most treacherous enemy. The rain pouring from the sky would have been no more damning than being dunked in a bath, no more disturbing than a few pumps or buckets of bailing couldn't solve. But the wind made it all the more dangerous. The sea was in turmoil, the ship rocking back and forth to dangerous angles, the rain itself pounding harder and heavier against everything - the wooden body of the ship and the fleshy beings aboard it - because of its fuelling by the hurricane around them.
Unlike some people's misconceptions assumed, Neena stood at the entrance of the steps below, not because what lay before her was a show for her entertainment but because her eyes were scouring. They shot between the tangles of rope, the knots and fastenings, the areas weakest when sodden and slippery. She noted the moorings and if they were secure, the lifelines that the men were tying in place around the mast, the tying down of everything heavy or moveable aboard the deck. A good sailor didn't charge into a high pressure situation, in the middle of a storm, determined to fix things. That kind of attitude only ended with more issues or someone falling into the drink. The best process was to watch, assess and do only what was an emergency and necessary in the moment. Everything else that was not such a disaster could wait.
Neena was distracted from her assessment, however, when a large hand grabbed ahold of her chilled arm, the rainwater slipping between his palm and her bicep, causing him to tighten his hold. Her head spun to find her grumpy non-captain hair even blacker than it had been before sodden to skin so pale it was almost luminescent in the dingy light of the storm. His eyes and expression were like death as he surveyed the scene with only anger and contempt at what was going on around him.
"Oh yeah, yell at the Gods!" Neena yelled back at him over the storm, as the man cried out for explanation. "That'll help!" He tone was a little chiding, her flippant and happy-go-lucky attitude lost in the severity of the situation. Neena looked on the bright side at all times. She was never someone to make a situation worse with anger and resentment. But that didn't mean she didn't also realise and understand the seriousness of a situation that threatened the lives of those on board the ship.
As she opened her mouth to tell him to release her arm, Neena heard the same almighty crack that Kreios did and looked up to see the gaskets of the foresail release and the boom of the main sheeting fall down hard. Luckily, the wind caught it and sent the boom flying dangerously across the deck as the sailors ducked or dropped to the floor. Still, even with the baton swinging violently around them, it was still better than if the weight of the wood had fallen down hard with only gravity to guide it. Without the guidance lines loop around the sail's boom and secured to the gaskets, the weight of the thing would have torn the sail in two.
Ducking to avoid the swing, and feeling Kreios do the same beside her, Neena's head was down and her eyes spotted his feet on the deck. When able to stand again, she snatched her arm from his grip with a severe jerk that likely only worked because of the water rendering his hold slippery.
"Take off your boots!” She yelled at him, with a pointed finger at his feet beside her bare toes. "You'll slip and end up in the sea!"
And before he could stop her again, Neena to the opportunity of him looking down where she pointed, to then run off across the deck.
The boom continued to swing dangerously, the pin lost, and the guide lines swinging freely down by the mast. They needed to be looped beneath the boom, then secured at the top of the mast where they could be hoisted, taking the beam up with them and securing the foresail to the t-bar. The problem was that several of them had snapped and hung loose and the men along the top of the mast couldn't collectively lift the weight of the boom without all of the lines in place. Knowing what she was about to do was probably stupidly dangerous, Neena ran forwards and quickly snagged ahold of the three lines that had come loose. Finding a free length of coiled rope at the base of the mast where it was normally kept on a ship for emergencies, Neena pulled the little dagger she kept tied to her thigh from its mooring and sliced off a piece long enough to loop around her waists several times. Within a moment she had the piece looped around herself and fastened into a belt. It was then the work of a minute to have the three loose guide lines attached to temporary harness.
All she needed to do now, was get under the boom and then climb up the outer side of the foresail. Something that was probably a very stupid idea during a storm but when she knew she could do. It had been a challenge back on Hecktor's ship. When the men had all had a little too much to drink and wanted to see who was strongest, a contest was always proposed. Who could climb the lines of the foresail and pull up the boom with the most lines attached to themselves. Ergo, how many men's efforts could you shoulder alone whilst supporting yourself on a single rope, as you climbed to the top.
Neena's record had always been three.
But that had been a long time ago and decidedly not during a storm. But the muscles were still there right? It wasn't as if they disappeared. They were just out of practice.
Taking a breath, Neena ran towards the edge of the ship, before clambering onto the low wall that ran its circumference. She perched there, lines attached to her waist and sailors yelling at her, unwilling to cut rope they so desperately needed and demanding she come back down and release the guidelines. She ignored all of them, watching for the tilt of the ship and the swing of the boom. Curling her toes around the edge of the lip, holding on as the wind battered her and the rain assaulted her, Neena waited until the boom swung directly at her, looking for all the world like it was about to knock her off into the sea. With a carefully practiced jump from years ago, Neena sprang and latched onto one of the guiding lines still in place over the foresail. Her legs were tangled in the damp fabric for a moment but then she managed to secure her knees on either side of the rope and tangle her feet in the line, just as any sailor knew how to do.
Looking up, Neena met the face of the sailor at the opposing end of her line, who had been trying to haul his share before without the weight of a small human being and three new guidelines attached.
"Support the gasket!" She yelled at the man and whilst she doubted he could hear her words as they were muffled by the rain in her mouth and the wind rattling the sail around like a writhing snake, the sailor seemed to read her lips or know what she meant as he transferred his hold.
Instead of yelling angrily at her now, the sailors on the deck were able to see what she was doing and Neena prayed to the Gods she didn't now fail or cause more damage to the gaskets and sail for her efforts.
Carefully, and as quickly as she could, Neena repositioned her hands on the line above her head and started to haul. The men on the t-bar took their cue and did the same. Heaving her body up, Neena felt the lines catch the boom and the weight around her waist suddenly become unbearable. The rope cut into her hips and she suddenly remembered why they had always attached the lines to belts in their games - not thin strips of rope - and she felt her centre of gravity shift. She repositioned her hands higher, her biceps clenching against the weight, her hands tightening on the damp rope as she hauled herself up again, her knees and ankles following.
Slowly, the men and herself, with their combined strength, were able to haul the boom up a foot at a time.
Neena had to pause a few times to catch her breath, slipped once and fell several feet that sent the boom slipping at a dangerous angle, but she managed to correct herself quickly and continue moving forwards. By the time she reached the top, her waist was agony, the shin on her hips rubbed raw and her arms were on fire, but she did get there.
Finally, at the top, Neena heaved her belly over the top of the t-bar and then spun a leg over, straddling the thing alongside her fellow sailors. One of them slapped her on the shoulder, another reached out to help steady her thigh. Together, the group of them pulled and inched the sail the rest of the way. As the soft clunk of boom and t-bar meeting one another could be felt by the small team sitting on them they, as one, looped their legs beneath the boom to hold it in place and then start to re-tie and fasten the gaskets. The men either side of Neena helped to untie the lines from her waist and fasten those too and soon the foresail was once more secure.
The group of men - and Neena - held on fast when a heavy wind picked up, as if angered at their success, but slowly they were all able to descend to the deck once more, shimmying down the shaft of the mast...
The rain was bad. A full-on storm unleashed upon the sea in torrents of the stuff. The sheets of water hit hard, flattening clothing to body and stinging skin with every lash. It was hard to see as water ran from the crown of Neena's head, down through her sodden hair and running into her eyes. What was worse than the rain, however, was the wind. An element of the world so invaluable for sailing, it could turn so easily into a ship darkest and most treacherous enemy. The rain pouring from the sky would have been no more damning than being dunked in a bath, no more disturbing than a few pumps or buckets of bailing couldn't solve. But the wind made it all the more dangerous. The sea was in turmoil, the ship rocking back and forth to dangerous angles, the rain itself pounding harder and heavier against everything - the wooden body of the ship and the fleshy beings aboard it - because of its fuelling by the hurricane around them.
Unlike some people's misconceptions assumed, Neena stood at the entrance of the steps below, not because what lay before her was a show for her entertainment but because her eyes were scouring. They shot between the tangles of rope, the knots and fastenings, the areas weakest when sodden and slippery. She noted the moorings and if they were secure, the lifelines that the men were tying in place around the mast, the tying down of everything heavy or moveable aboard the deck. A good sailor didn't charge into a high pressure situation, in the middle of a storm, determined to fix things. That kind of attitude only ended with more issues or someone falling into the drink. The best process was to watch, assess and do only what was an emergency and necessary in the moment. Everything else that was not such a disaster could wait.
Neena was distracted from her assessment, however, when a large hand grabbed ahold of her chilled arm, the rainwater slipping between his palm and her bicep, causing him to tighten his hold. Her head spun to find her grumpy non-captain hair even blacker than it had been before sodden to skin so pale it was almost luminescent in the dingy light of the storm. His eyes and expression were like death as he surveyed the scene with only anger and contempt at what was going on around him.
"Oh yeah, yell at the Gods!" Neena yelled back at him over the storm, as the man cried out for explanation. "That'll help!" He tone was a little chiding, her flippant and happy-go-lucky attitude lost in the severity of the situation. Neena looked on the bright side at all times. She was never someone to make a situation worse with anger and resentment. But that didn't mean she didn't also realise and understand the seriousness of a situation that threatened the lives of those on board the ship.
As she opened her mouth to tell him to release her arm, Neena heard the same almighty crack that Kreios did and looked up to see the gaskets of the foresail release and the boom of the main sheeting fall down hard. Luckily, the wind caught it and sent the boom flying dangerously across the deck as the sailors ducked or dropped to the floor. Still, even with the baton swinging violently around them, it was still better than if the weight of the wood had fallen down hard with only gravity to guide it. Without the guidance lines loop around the sail's boom and secured to the gaskets, the weight of the thing would have torn the sail in two.
Ducking to avoid the swing, and feeling Kreios do the same beside her, Neena's head was down and her eyes spotted his feet on the deck. When able to stand again, she snatched her arm from his grip with a severe jerk that likely only worked because of the water rendering his hold slippery.
"Take off your boots!” She yelled at him, with a pointed finger at his feet beside her bare toes. "You'll slip and end up in the sea!"
And before he could stop her again, Neena to the opportunity of him looking down where she pointed, to then run off across the deck.
The boom continued to swing dangerously, the pin lost, and the guide lines swinging freely down by the mast. They needed to be looped beneath the boom, then secured at the top of the mast where they could be hoisted, taking the beam up with them and securing the foresail to the t-bar. The problem was that several of them had snapped and hung loose and the men along the top of the mast couldn't collectively lift the weight of the boom without all of the lines in place. Knowing what she was about to do was probably stupidly dangerous, Neena ran forwards and quickly snagged ahold of the three lines that had come loose. Finding a free length of coiled rope at the base of the mast where it was normally kept on a ship for emergencies, Neena pulled the little dagger she kept tied to her thigh from its mooring and sliced off a piece long enough to loop around her waists several times. Within a moment she had the piece looped around herself and fastened into a belt. It was then the work of a minute to have the three loose guide lines attached to temporary harness.
All she needed to do now, was get under the boom and then climb up the outer side of the foresail. Something that was probably a very stupid idea during a storm but when she knew she could do. It had been a challenge back on Hecktor's ship. When the men had all had a little too much to drink and wanted to see who was strongest, a contest was always proposed. Who could climb the lines of the foresail and pull up the boom with the most lines attached to themselves. Ergo, how many men's efforts could you shoulder alone whilst supporting yourself on a single rope, as you climbed to the top.
Neena's record had always been three.
But that had been a long time ago and decidedly not during a storm. But the muscles were still there right? It wasn't as if they disappeared. They were just out of practice.
Taking a breath, Neena ran towards the edge of the ship, before clambering onto the low wall that ran its circumference. She perched there, lines attached to her waist and sailors yelling at her, unwilling to cut rope they so desperately needed and demanding she come back down and release the guidelines. She ignored all of them, watching for the tilt of the ship and the swing of the boom. Curling her toes around the edge of the lip, holding on as the wind battered her and the rain assaulted her, Neena waited until the boom swung directly at her, looking for all the world like it was about to knock her off into the sea. With a carefully practiced jump from years ago, Neena sprang and latched onto one of the guiding lines still in place over the foresail. Her legs were tangled in the damp fabric for a moment but then she managed to secure her knees on either side of the rope and tangle her feet in the line, just as any sailor knew how to do.
Looking up, Neena met the face of the sailor at the opposing end of her line, who had been trying to haul his share before without the weight of a small human being and three new guidelines attached.
"Support the gasket!" She yelled at the man and whilst she doubted he could hear her words as they were muffled by the rain in her mouth and the wind rattling the sail around like a writhing snake, the sailor seemed to read her lips or know what she meant as he transferred his hold.
Instead of yelling angrily at her now, the sailors on the deck were able to see what she was doing and Neena prayed to the Gods she didn't now fail or cause more damage to the gaskets and sail for her efforts.
Carefully, and as quickly as she could, Neena repositioned her hands on the line above her head and started to haul. The men on the t-bar took their cue and did the same. Heaving her body up, Neena felt the lines catch the boom and the weight around her waist suddenly become unbearable. The rope cut into her hips and she suddenly remembered why they had always attached the lines to belts in their games - not thin strips of rope - and she felt her centre of gravity shift. She repositioned her hands higher, her biceps clenching against the weight, her hands tightening on the damp rope as she hauled herself up again, her knees and ankles following.
Slowly, the men and herself, with their combined strength, were able to haul the boom up a foot at a time.
Neena had to pause a few times to catch her breath, slipped once and fell several feet that sent the boom slipping at a dangerous angle, but she managed to correct herself quickly and continue moving forwards. By the time she reached the top, her waist was agony, the shin on her hips rubbed raw and her arms were on fire, but she did get there.
Finally, at the top, Neena heaved her belly over the top of the t-bar and then spun a leg over, straddling the thing alongside her fellow sailors. One of them slapped her on the shoulder, another reached out to help steady her thigh. Together, the group of them pulled and inched the sail the rest of the way. As the soft clunk of boom and t-bar meeting one another could be felt by the small team sitting on them they, as one, looped their legs beneath the boom to hold it in place and then start to re-tie and fasten the gaskets. The men either side of Neena helped to untie the lines from her waist and fasten those too and soon the foresail was once more secure.
The group of men - and Neena - held on fast when a heavy wind picked up, as if angered at their success, but slowly they were all able to descend to the deck once more, shimmying down the shaft of the mast...
Of course, she wouldn't listen to him. When had she ever? He should've learnt his lesson by now, but she merely ignored his warning and slipped out of his grip that had loosened from the sheets of rain and cold, Kreios's expression would've been a classic example of shock and surprise, had it not been blocked by the heavy downpour that now made the sea grow stronger, angrier as time wore on.
Her words only hit home as the ship dipped and rose in sudden movements that made Kreios almost lose his balance, had he not been quick enough to bow his knees and fall on all fours as the vessel dipped again following the uneven waves that was tossed by Poseidon's wrath. Cursing as he heeded her advise, Kreios slipped off his boots, tossing them to Descat with a yell at him to drop the boots belowdeck, before the man straightened up again. He could barely open his dark eyes, assaulted as they are by salty wind and sharp cold air, but try he did.
Using his hand to shield his gaze, Kreios tilted his head upwards this way and that, attempting to find his wayward cargo, all while cursing as he internally reminded himself to never take on another passenger again. In times like these when the crew needed all hands on deck to make sure the Azazel did not sink to the bottom of the ocean, Kreios would usually stay out of the way, for his lack of knowledge on sailing meant he would be merely a hindrance if he remained on deck. And yet, the curly-haired Bedoan he had picked up for that unique diamond now stashed beneath his sleeping quarters thought she could navigate this slippery vessel better?
What did she even-
His thought was cut off when he finally spotted the quarry he had been searching for. Only Kreios found himself needing to eat his words when he finally managed to pick out what she was currently doing. For a girl who the male had thought would be simply a hindrance, Kreios was surprised when he saw the slight sized female perched on the lip, somehow managing to hold on despite the heavy winds battering at her, all whilst she worked to make sure the sails and boom remained secure, looking as if she was right at home instead of being a drowned rat like Kreios was becoming more and more like.
What surprised the merchant most however, was by now,most of the sailors were following her lead in hauling the boom up. He found himself almost starting towards her as she slipped and fell, but before he could get himself in the space, she had managed to right herself back up, before continuing right on. Seemingly not at all feeling the sheets of cold rain as they continued their assault, Kreios found himself watching as the men worked in accordance with the small-sized cargo he had picked up, until the foresail was once again secure, and one by one, the men all descended.
Watching as the men dispersed, Kreios averted his eyes from Neena when a tug from his leg had him turning, to find Descat vying for his attention. "The storm is letting up, Master. Return belowdeck? We should be in safe waters in a couple of hours." The young servant boy was jubilant as usual when he addressed Kreios, but the merchant shook his head. "Go and ensure Typhon is alright from being tossed around, and lay out a hot bath in my chambers." he murmured, paused, and then continued. "And have another prepared for our guest."
As Descat scurried away to do as bidded, Kreios stabilized his bare feet on the deck sloshing with rain water, trekking across the deck until he managed to reach the side of the bronzed-skin lady. Just as the ship dipped from a particularly tall wave, his arm shot out in time to steady her, just before she fell. Only when he was certain she would not slip again, did the merchant retract his hand, waiting till she looked at him before he asked. "What did you say your name was again?" It was rare, for Kreios to initiate a question. There was no difference in his tone, how deadpan it was, nor how stoic his face looked.
But it was a question.
The merchant waited till she answered, before he turned his back on her, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was walking away. However, Kreios only went two steps, before he paused, and then tossed a look over his shoulder. A ghost of a smile passed his lips, crooking up one side as he murmured in a tone just barely audible over the scream of the winds, "The name's Kreios." It was all he offered, before retreating to his own chambers. In a short time, Descat would run to tell Neena that she had a hot bath prepared in her chambers, but for now, it was as much as Kreios was willing to offer. The man was usually an indifferent soul, who is as easily angered as he is fair. But what he was not, was blind. While she may be a chatterbox, with enough energy in her to annoy Kreios... he would not deny talent when he saw it, and if anything, it was talent and capability that drew the man in.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Of course, she wouldn't listen to him. When had she ever? He should've learnt his lesson by now, but she merely ignored his warning and slipped out of his grip that had loosened from the sheets of rain and cold, Kreios's expression would've been a classic example of shock and surprise, had it not been blocked by the heavy downpour that now made the sea grow stronger, angrier as time wore on.
Her words only hit home as the ship dipped and rose in sudden movements that made Kreios almost lose his balance, had he not been quick enough to bow his knees and fall on all fours as the vessel dipped again following the uneven waves that was tossed by Poseidon's wrath. Cursing as he heeded her advise, Kreios slipped off his boots, tossing them to Descat with a yell at him to drop the boots belowdeck, before the man straightened up again. He could barely open his dark eyes, assaulted as they are by salty wind and sharp cold air, but try he did.
Using his hand to shield his gaze, Kreios tilted his head upwards this way and that, attempting to find his wayward cargo, all while cursing as he internally reminded himself to never take on another passenger again. In times like these when the crew needed all hands on deck to make sure the Azazel did not sink to the bottom of the ocean, Kreios would usually stay out of the way, for his lack of knowledge on sailing meant he would be merely a hindrance if he remained on deck. And yet, the curly-haired Bedoan he had picked up for that unique diamond now stashed beneath his sleeping quarters thought she could navigate this slippery vessel better?
What did she even-
His thought was cut off when he finally spotted the quarry he had been searching for. Only Kreios found himself needing to eat his words when he finally managed to pick out what she was currently doing. For a girl who the male had thought would be simply a hindrance, Kreios was surprised when he saw the slight sized female perched on the lip, somehow managing to hold on despite the heavy winds battering at her, all whilst she worked to make sure the sails and boom remained secure, looking as if she was right at home instead of being a drowned rat like Kreios was becoming more and more like.
What surprised the merchant most however, was by now,most of the sailors were following her lead in hauling the boom up. He found himself almost starting towards her as she slipped and fell, but before he could get himself in the space, she had managed to right herself back up, before continuing right on. Seemingly not at all feeling the sheets of cold rain as they continued their assault, Kreios found himself watching as the men worked in accordance with the small-sized cargo he had picked up, until the foresail was once again secure, and one by one, the men all descended.
Watching as the men dispersed, Kreios averted his eyes from Neena when a tug from his leg had him turning, to find Descat vying for his attention. "The storm is letting up, Master. Return belowdeck? We should be in safe waters in a couple of hours." The young servant boy was jubilant as usual when he addressed Kreios, but the merchant shook his head. "Go and ensure Typhon is alright from being tossed around, and lay out a hot bath in my chambers." he murmured, paused, and then continued. "And have another prepared for our guest."
As Descat scurried away to do as bidded, Kreios stabilized his bare feet on the deck sloshing with rain water, trekking across the deck until he managed to reach the side of the bronzed-skin lady. Just as the ship dipped from a particularly tall wave, his arm shot out in time to steady her, just before she fell. Only when he was certain she would not slip again, did the merchant retract his hand, waiting till she looked at him before he asked. "What did you say your name was again?" It was rare, for Kreios to initiate a question. There was no difference in his tone, how deadpan it was, nor how stoic his face looked.
But it was a question.
The merchant waited till she answered, before he turned his back on her, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was walking away. However, Kreios only went two steps, before he paused, and then tossed a look over his shoulder. A ghost of a smile passed his lips, crooking up one side as he murmured in a tone just barely audible over the scream of the winds, "The name's Kreios." It was all he offered, before retreating to his own chambers. In a short time, Descat would run to tell Neena that she had a hot bath prepared in her chambers, but for now, it was as much as Kreios was willing to offer. The man was usually an indifferent soul, who is as easily angered as he is fair. But what he was not, was blind. While she may be a chatterbox, with enough energy in her to annoy Kreios... he would not deny talent when he saw it, and if anything, it was talent and capability that drew the man in.
Of course, she wouldn't listen to him. When had she ever? He should've learnt his lesson by now, but she merely ignored his warning and slipped out of his grip that had loosened from the sheets of rain and cold, Kreios's expression would've been a classic example of shock and surprise, had it not been blocked by the heavy downpour that now made the sea grow stronger, angrier as time wore on.
Her words only hit home as the ship dipped and rose in sudden movements that made Kreios almost lose his balance, had he not been quick enough to bow his knees and fall on all fours as the vessel dipped again following the uneven waves that was tossed by Poseidon's wrath. Cursing as he heeded her advise, Kreios slipped off his boots, tossing them to Descat with a yell at him to drop the boots belowdeck, before the man straightened up again. He could barely open his dark eyes, assaulted as they are by salty wind and sharp cold air, but try he did.
Using his hand to shield his gaze, Kreios tilted his head upwards this way and that, attempting to find his wayward cargo, all while cursing as he internally reminded himself to never take on another passenger again. In times like these when the crew needed all hands on deck to make sure the Azazel did not sink to the bottom of the ocean, Kreios would usually stay out of the way, for his lack of knowledge on sailing meant he would be merely a hindrance if he remained on deck. And yet, the curly-haired Bedoan he had picked up for that unique diamond now stashed beneath his sleeping quarters thought she could navigate this slippery vessel better?
What did she even-
His thought was cut off when he finally spotted the quarry he had been searching for. Only Kreios found himself needing to eat his words when he finally managed to pick out what she was currently doing. For a girl who the male had thought would be simply a hindrance, Kreios was surprised when he saw the slight sized female perched on the lip, somehow managing to hold on despite the heavy winds battering at her, all whilst she worked to make sure the sails and boom remained secure, looking as if she was right at home instead of being a drowned rat like Kreios was becoming more and more like.
What surprised the merchant most however, was by now,most of the sailors were following her lead in hauling the boom up. He found himself almost starting towards her as she slipped and fell, but before he could get himself in the space, she had managed to right herself back up, before continuing right on. Seemingly not at all feeling the sheets of cold rain as they continued their assault, Kreios found himself watching as the men worked in accordance with the small-sized cargo he had picked up, until the foresail was once again secure, and one by one, the men all descended.
Watching as the men dispersed, Kreios averted his eyes from Neena when a tug from his leg had him turning, to find Descat vying for his attention. "The storm is letting up, Master. Return belowdeck? We should be in safe waters in a couple of hours." The young servant boy was jubilant as usual when he addressed Kreios, but the merchant shook his head. "Go and ensure Typhon is alright from being tossed around, and lay out a hot bath in my chambers." he murmured, paused, and then continued. "And have another prepared for our guest."
As Descat scurried away to do as bidded, Kreios stabilized his bare feet on the deck sloshing with rain water, trekking across the deck until he managed to reach the side of the bronzed-skin lady. Just as the ship dipped from a particularly tall wave, his arm shot out in time to steady her, just before she fell. Only when he was certain she would not slip again, did the merchant retract his hand, waiting till she looked at him before he asked. "What did you say your name was again?" It was rare, for Kreios to initiate a question. There was no difference in his tone, how deadpan it was, nor how stoic his face looked.
But it was a question.
The merchant waited till she answered, before he turned his back on her, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was walking away. However, Kreios only went two steps, before he paused, and then tossed a look over his shoulder. A ghost of a smile passed his lips, crooking up one side as he murmured in a tone just barely audible over the scream of the winds, "The name's Kreios." It was all he offered, before retreating to his own chambers. In a short time, Descat would run to tell Neena that she had a hot bath prepared in her chambers, but for now, it was as much as Kreios was willing to offer. The man was usually an indifferent soul, who is as easily angered as he is fair. But what he was not, was blind. While she may be a chatterbox, with enough energy in her to annoy Kreios... he would not deny talent when he saw it, and if anything, it was talent and capability that drew the man in.
Neena was concentrating on climbing down the footholds of the mast and the wind was so loud in her ears that she had no hope of knowing that the grumpy owner of the ship was standing behind her as she made it down the deck level. She had no idea if he had removed his boots, if he had gone to help the other sailors, or disappeared below deck. In fact, as soon as her mind had switched over into a mode that was wholly focused on saving the ship from hitting the bottom of the ocean floor, she hadn't paid attention to the handsome man at all, nor paid his behaviour any mind. It wasn't until she was heading back down the mast and had found her feet skimming the wooden slats of the deck of the Azazel that she took a step back and always fell into the man.
Unsteady at his sudden appearance, her limbs tired and achy and her feet slippery on the floor, one of the last sudden surges of the boat, had her wobbling and almost falling over the man's feet as she found her balance once more. The hand he shot out to steady her, an additional slap of ice against her already frozen skin, helped her to keep her footing and she had her centre of gravity back in no time.
When he asked her name, Neena felt a spark of surprise and warmth that he was showing enough interest in her as an individual to want a name to add to her face. Perhaps it was a sign she was being upgraded in his mind from mute cargo.
Raising a ringer, her arm covered in gooseflesh from the cold, she opened her mouth to give a smart alek response but paused momentarily. Whilst he had been an obtuse nitwit for all of today, she couldn't help but feel that his requesting her name was an olive branch of sorts and it seemed just too easy - and too cruel - to throw it back in his face. As such, she answered with genuine friendliness and a smile too bright for the dark and cold world currently surrounding them.
"I am Neena."
When the man turned his back on her headed off back towards his cabins, she was a little annoyed that the introduction hadn't warranted reciprocity, but it was only a few steps before he was turning around and offering her his in return. The wind took half of what he said, snatching it into the air and refusing to hand it over, but Neena could read lips so her eyes pieced together that which her ears missed.
Kreios. Meaning Lord and Master.
Or sheep.
Well, it worked either way. He was clearly the boss of his domain and as stubborn as a ram.
Smiling in her own amusement, Neena was interrupted in her thoughts by the young man who seemed to work as Kreios' livery servant minus the uniform. He jumped and skidded his way across the deck in the hopes of avoiding the fallen supplies and busying sailors who were ensuring everything was right with the vessel as the wind was finally calming.
"The Master ordered a bath prepared for you miss?" He said, looking all the world equally confused and nervous as to his instructions.
"Aw, well, thanks for handling that Descat." She told the boy, having heard his name yelled about the ship. She reached out instinctively and startled him by ruffling the young teen's hair. "You're a sweetie."
And leaving the kid where he stood, hair on end and cheeks and ears flaming in a blush that defied the cold weather, Neena danced her way across the deck, eager to sink into something warm for a bit. She felt sure she was losing feeling in her extremities, despite her mind being able to push the cold from her conscious thoughts while she had had the distraction of working on the sip.
On the plus side though... she thought. She might have been freezing cold, but Kreios was definitely warming to her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Neena was concentrating on climbing down the footholds of the mast and the wind was so loud in her ears that she had no hope of knowing that the grumpy owner of the ship was standing behind her as she made it down the deck level. She had no idea if he had removed his boots, if he had gone to help the other sailors, or disappeared below deck. In fact, as soon as her mind had switched over into a mode that was wholly focused on saving the ship from hitting the bottom of the ocean floor, she hadn't paid attention to the handsome man at all, nor paid his behaviour any mind. It wasn't until she was heading back down the mast and had found her feet skimming the wooden slats of the deck of the Azazel that she took a step back and always fell into the man.
Unsteady at his sudden appearance, her limbs tired and achy and her feet slippery on the floor, one of the last sudden surges of the boat, had her wobbling and almost falling over the man's feet as she found her balance once more. The hand he shot out to steady her, an additional slap of ice against her already frozen skin, helped her to keep her footing and she had her centre of gravity back in no time.
When he asked her name, Neena felt a spark of surprise and warmth that he was showing enough interest in her as an individual to want a name to add to her face. Perhaps it was a sign she was being upgraded in his mind from mute cargo.
Raising a ringer, her arm covered in gooseflesh from the cold, she opened her mouth to give a smart alek response but paused momentarily. Whilst he had been an obtuse nitwit for all of today, she couldn't help but feel that his requesting her name was an olive branch of sorts and it seemed just too easy - and too cruel - to throw it back in his face. As such, she answered with genuine friendliness and a smile too bright for the dark and cold world currently surrounding them.
"I am Neena."
When the man turned his back on her headed off back towards his cabins, she was a little annoyed that the introduction hadn't warranted reciprocity, but it was only a few steps before he was turning around and offering her his in return. The wind took half of what he said, snatching it into the air and refusing to hand it over, but Neena could read lips so her eyes pieced together that which her ears missed.
Kreios. Meaning Lord and Master.
Or sheep.
Well, it worked either way. He was clearly the boss of his domain and as stubborn as a ram.
Smiling in her own amusement, Neena was interrupted in her thoughts by the young man who seemed to work as Kreios' livery servant minus the uniform. He jumped and skidded his way across the deck in the hopes of avoiding the fallen supplies and busying sailors who were ensuring everything was right with the vessel as the wind was finally calming.
"The Master ordered a bath prepared for you miss?" He said, looking all the world equally confused and nervous as to his instructions.
"Aw, well, thanks for handling that Descat." She told the boy, having heard his name yelled about the ship. She reached out instinctively and startled him by ruffling the young teen's hair. "You're a sweetie."
And leaving the kid where he stood, hair on end and cheeks and ears flaming in a blush that defied the cold weather, Neena danced her way across the deck, eager to sink into something warm for a bit. She felt sure she was losing feeling in her extremities, despite her mind being able to push the cold from her conscious thoughts while she had had the distraction of working on the sip.
On the plus side though... she thought. She might have been freezing cold, but Kreios was definitely warming to her.
Neena was concentrating on climbing down the footholds of the mast and the wind was so loud in her ears that she had no hope of knowing that the grumpy owner of the ship was standing behind her as she made it down the deck level. She had no idea if he had removed his boots, if he had gone to help the other sailors, or disappeared below deck. In fact, as soon as her mind had switched over into a mode that was wholly focused on saving the ship from hitting the bottom of the ocean floor, she hadn't paid attention to the handsome man at all, nor paid his behaviour any mind. It wasn't until she was heading back down the mast and had found her feet skimming the wooden slats of the deck of the Azazel that she took a step back and always fell into the man.
Unsteady at his sudden appearance, her limbs tired and achy and her feet slippery on the floor, one of the last sudden surges of the boat, had her wobbling and almost falling over the man's feet as she found her balance once more. The hand he shot out to steady her, an additional slap of ice against her already frozen skin, helped her to keep her footing and she had her centre of gravity back in no time.
When he asked her name, Neena felt a spark of surprise and warmth that he was showing enough interest in her as an individual to want a name to add to her face. Perhaps it was a sign she was being upgraded in his mind from mute cargo.
Raising a ringer, her arm covered in gooseflesh from the cold, she opened her mouth to give a smart alek response but paused momentarily. Whilst he had been an obtuse nitwit for all of today, she couldn't help but feel that his requesting her name was an olive branch of sorts and it seemed just too easy - and too cruel - to throw it back in his face. As such, she answered with genuine friendliness and a smile too bright for the dark and cold world currently surrounding them.
"I am Neena."
When the man turned his back on her headed off back towards his cabins, she was a little annoyed that the introduction hadn't warranted reciprocity, but it was only a few steps before he was turning around and offering her his in return. The wind took half of what he said, snatching it into the air and refusing to hand it over, but Neena could read lips so her eyes pieced together that which her ears missed.
Kreios. Meaning Lord and Master.
Or sheep.
Well, it worked either way. He was clearly the boss of his domain and as stubborn as a ram.
Smiling in her own amusement, Neena was interrupted in her thoughts by the young man who seemed to work as Kreios' livery servant minus the uniform. He jumped and skidded his way across the deck in the hopes of avoiding the fallen supplies and busying sailors who were ensuring everything was right with the vessel as the wind was finally calming.
"The Master ordered a bath prepared for you miss?" He said, looking all the world equally confused and nervous as to his instructions.
"Aw, well, thanks for handling that Descat." She told the boy, having heard his name yelled about the ship. She reached out instinctively and startled him by ruffling the young teen's hair. "You're a sweetie."
And leaving the kid where he stood, hair on end and cheeks and ears flaming in a blush that defied the cold weather, Neena danced her way across the deck, eager to sink into something warm for a bit. She felt sure she was losing feeling in her extremities, despite her mind being able to push the cold from her conscious thoughts while she had had the distraction of working on the sip.
On the plus side though... she thought. She might have been freezing cold, but Kreios was definitely warming to her.
