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 Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2009 12:41 pm
 || Journal Entry - Surprise in the Hold. ||
"Hey, Inge you scurvy ridden flea bag! Come here!"
Nothing to bother him but his father..
One lazy blue eyes peered open as he sat up. He gazed through his straggly fridge and smiled at the weather-worn face that was looking around for him. His father was a fearsome fellow, experience of the seas was plain to see in his features. His hair was bleached white and was bristly, combed back into a barely controlled ponytail. His beard was equally white and also lacking discipline, wiry and fairly bushy. Over one steely grey eye was a leather patch and on his face he wore a scowl that could curdle milk. There were rumours around town that Jeremiah Lekan had been a pirate before he'd settled down into the life of a fisherman and adopted a kid to help him. The thought of it made Inge chuckle, he supposed it was possible but had never asked and never really felt the need to ask. The response that the old boot would give would most likely be scolding and something along the lines of; "mind your own bee's wax boy." What his adopted father had been previous to his adoption didn't bother him, what bothered him was avoiding a whomping if he didn't reply to the old guy's calls soon.
"Yes pa?" Inge said, getting to his feet and brushing his fringe from his eyes. The rough fisherman turned to stare at the teen on the roof and snarled, "Get yourself down here boy! Gotta pull in the nets. D'you hear me?! Quick quick!" Sighing Inge trotted to the edge of the roof and descended onto the deck of the boat. His adopted father was demanding, but Inge expected nothing less.. It was in the man's nature to be snappy and expect people to do as he says, Inge had learnt to deal with it as he grew up with the man.
The afternoon's work passed by just like any other. It was backbreaking work lifting the nets back into the boat - it was a large catch and the nets were swollen with the glimmering silver bodies of fish. The sun, which had been Inge's warming friend whilst relaxing became a bitter annoyance as the pair toiled under it's rays.. But after a couple of hours of gritted teeth and Jeremiah grunting obscene curses the catch was complete and the hold laden with fish, ready for market the next day.
The journey back to the docks was spent in moderate relaxation. Inge returned to his spot on the roof, although this time he had work to do at the same time. The nets had gained one of too damaged and tears after the large catch and although it was easy work it was monotonous and boring - hence the fact Jeremiah had given the task to Inge. However, before he could get started on the job he first needed to find the net repair kit...
Normally the kit was at the bottom of one of the lockers in Inge's room. Rather than allowing an extensive wardrobe for his adopted charge Jeremiah had used the majority of Inge's cupboard space for storing fishing equipment. Inge knelt on the floor of the cabin, rummaging through the cupboard for the familiar iron box... "Where is it?" He muttered, peering into the clutter. His fingers touched something smooth and vaguely round and he frowned. That was unusual, nothing of that texture or shape was used in fishing.. But then his groping fingers found the familiar shape of the repair box and he pulled it out..
However, the fisherman teen was surprised by the state which the box was in..
Half of it was rusted so badly that it practically crumbled under his touch. The contents were mostly undamaged, a few nails were rusted but the twine and glue were a little aged from not being used in a while, but otherwise in perfect condition. Frowning he peered into the cupboard again to see if any other equipment to see if anything else had suffered the same corrosion. To his awe he could spot something glowing. Reaching in, Inge retrieved the object... It was the smooth thing that he'd brushed earlier and now in the light of day that was coming in through a circular cabin window, he could distinguish the object as a bottle.
It had a simple swirling pattern on it but the main appearance of it seemed as through it was rusty. He frowned and moved it towards the metal repair case, brushing the bottle's surface against an untarnished portion of it. Sure enough the surface flared up with rust, the smooth box lid becoming scaly with rust. Inge smiled a little bit. "How interesting.." He mused, placing the curiosity in his hammock.. For now he would put it aside - he had work to do and the last thing he wanted was for his father to get snappy, especially now that he would have to buy a new repair box.. But later on he would return to examine the bizarre object at his own leisure.
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Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2009 3:29 pm
|| Journal Entry - Something Bizarre || The bottle sat next to Inge as yet again the teen was up on the roof of the boat, but this time they were not at sea but moored up at the port of Aimes.
The sun was shining again and the pleasant sea breeze tussled the boy's hair as he admired the bottle; Since finding the curious thing Inge had been examining it almost non-stop, tapping it, shaking it, trying to work out what made it do what it did. So far from his examinations he'd deduced that it was full of some sort of powder or dust. However occasionally sparks would light up the brown bottle and alongside the rusting effect of it he assumed that there was some sort of magic involved.
In fact, the sparks were becoming increasingly frequent as the days past, and so too had the bottle's corrosive tendencies increased. Over the last few days the bottle only had to be near a metal object for a thin layer of rust to form.. Inge had to keep in mind this fact when carrying the bottle around the ship; his father wasn't the most cheerful of people at the best of times and Inge knew that the more rust damage that the bottle caused the suspicious of the bottle the old man would get.
Something unusual seemed to be happening to the bottle now though. As Inge waited for his father to return from selling the fish at market a strange reaction was occurring inside the bottle. The frequency of the flashes had reached a crescendo and the insides of the bottle resembled something like a firework display. "Huh? Woah.." Inge mumbled, watching the frantic sparking of the bottle, unsure what to do with it. His father had been looking at the bottle with a scrutinising eye when it had just been flashing occasionally.. But Inge wasn't sure what Jeremiah would say to this; the man's mistrust of magic would probably lead to making Inge throw the bottle overboard..
However, Inge's worries over the flashing were unfounded as the sparking decreased to a soft glow. There was however another weird development to the bottle's appearance.
A strange aura was hanging around the bottle, like tiny particles of rust suspended in the air. When he put his hand towards the bottle it even felt like it too, rough and metallic against his skin - even though his hand moved through the haze with ease... It was a bizarre experience for the sheltered fisherboy. Hurriedly, before his father could home home, he swaddled the bottle in his shirt and put it out of the way in the corner of his room.. Desperately hoping nothing else unusual would happen within the bottle..
He never even suspected what was to come... 
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Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 12:24 pm
 || Roleplay - Long way down.. ||
Who; Inge & Rose. (plus respective bottles)
When; Later afternoon, about 5/6pm.
Where; Cliffs to the northwest of Aimes.
Summary;
 •___To kill time whilst waiting for his adopted father to finish catch up with his companions Inge went up to the cliffs on the mainland.
•___Whilst walking along the coastal path he literally bumped into another person.
•___After making sure that the woman was ok, Inge started talking to her only to find that she too has a peculiar problem in the form
•___of a bottle. Except, hers have wings and there are two of them.
•___Their meeting was cut rather short by the oncoming storm. Inge did give Rose his address at the docks and a further meeting to
•___ponder about the bottles is to be expected at some point.
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 2:04 pm
|| Roleplay - A Rusty Start ||
Who; Inge & Cadaver.
When; Noonish, about 12/1pm.
Where; Outskirts of Whi Forest.
Summary; •___Whilst his father met with an old friend in the depths of Whi forest to discuss fishing, Inge wandered the sun filled
•___paths of the forest to pass the time..
•___He spotted a pair of people picking herbs but they left too quickly for him to strike up a conversation. However, Inge
•___followed them to give back some herbs they had absent mindedly left behind.
•___The boy that Inge talked to was very pleasant and a conversation was soon flowing between the pair; as they spoke
•___Inge politely offered to show the boy the pools in the forest as the boy seemed eager to view them.
•___However, before the boy could agree to go with Inge, he demanded that they could not be strangers any more, so
•___they exchanged names.
•___After introductions were complete Inge and the newly introduced Cadaver made their way back into the forest - talking
•___again. This time their conversation turned a little morbid as Inge managed to prompt Cadaver into discussing his rather
•___peculiar dreams involving Mr. Happy.
•___Luckily, before the conversation could become any more worrying they arrived at the pool and Cadaver eagerly entered
•___in - splashing the more cautious teen in the process.
•___Cadaver seemed most amused by the fish in the pool but his attempts at catching them failed miserably. As a fisherman
•___Inge managed to catch one with ease, much to Cadavers delight.
•___However, just as Cadaver petted the newly caught fish his fathers voice was heard calling for him and he had to leave,
•___but not before making Inge promise that they would play again at some point.
•___Inge willingly obliged and advised the boy to seek him out at his father's strongly smelling stall at the market..
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Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2009 4:35 am
|| Roleplay - Bartering at the Market. || Who; Inge, Mille & Tori. (plus rust bottle)
When; Around midday, about 12/1pm.
Where; The crowed centre of Aimes Market.
Summary;
•___Working on the market stall selling the wide variety of fish that he and his father had caught, Inge's main job was to shoo
•___off any cats that decide that their stock was a quick meal.
•___A little kitten quickly caught Inge's eye but as he went to make the mewing critter scamper off, another person had already
•___got to the cat - but rather than discouraging it they were watching it with rapt interest.
•___Not only that, but this person, a little girl, had cherry blossom floating serenely around her... Remaining polite Inge asked
•___her that if it was her cat, could she please take it away.
{Incomplete due to the fact that Naguri had to leave Gaia to deal with her real life issues..}
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Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2009 4:48 am
|| Roleplay - Aimes Spring Festival ||Who; Inge, Krinn, Lan, Milo, Marijus. (plus rust bottle) When; Mid-afternoon, the festival is in full swing! Where; Aimes Circle, amongst the many brightly coloured stalls. Summary; •___Inge decided to live his childhood dream of exploring the festival and was quite the glutton at the food stalls, purchasing
•___many of the sweet treats that the vendors had whipped up especially for the spring festival.
•___However, as he sat devouring the sticky treat a happy face caught his attention - or more accurately, the creature perched
•___upon the person's head tickled Inge's curiosity and the teen decided to inquire what the animal was.
•___Interestingly two of the gathered people had the critter, a mouse like thing garbed in a cute dress, both the pleasant
•___yet a little mischevious Lan and the 'uptight' businessman Milo. However, neither knew what exactly the creatures were.
•___After an exchange of names and pleasant chit-chat another person entered into the discussion.
•___A unfamiliar face inquiring about a familiar name. Marijus came over to ask the group if they'd seen the boy Cadaver at the festival.
•___Unfortunately none of the gathered had, leaving them all wondering where the pestilence child could be...
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 5:43 am
Rust Point.
(Dust Spin --> Child Quest*)
Something happened to the boat this morning, and the house, and everything in between. Inge's pa, concerned that the spots of rust may cause trouble, sends Inge to the steel yard to pick up some beams just in case. Inge suspects that the bottle had something to do with this. How does Inge handle the situation? What happens when Inge reaches the steel yard?
*Please note, there's a minimum word requirement of 500 words for this quest.
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Posted: Fri Apr 17, 2009 12:35 pm
 || Quest - Rust Point ||
The profanity that left Inge's mouth rang out across the docks as he scampered forwards, snatching up the bottle, glancing around to make sure nobody had seen; luckily there was no audience except a sleepy gull which opened its beak and emitted a groggy 'caw' in response to his yelping cuss. Normally the teen didn't swear, but this situation was especially frustrating - He could've sworn that he'd taken bottle inside to his cabin last night... Yet there it had been; sitting almost stubbornly in the midst of the damage it had caused. The aura of rust tingled against his skin as he clasped it and looked into the glass. Sure enough sparks danced within its centre, they were an almost constant feature now and Inge was beginning to wonder what the increasing amount of activity in the bottle was leading up to. Would it change again? It had already been through one development - the shroud of rust... What could possibly happen next?
Dispelling his musing on the future Inge placed the bottle on a wooden bench where it couldn't cause any further damage. He needed to deal with what was happening now. He needed to devise an explanation for the damage to present to his father, the boat couldn't just get rusty overnight.. He bit his tongue, frantically devising a cover up story. Yet nothing plausible leapt to mind. Rust couldn't just form overnight.. Inge wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't personally seen the tarnishing effects of the bottle for himself.
A groan echoed from the bowels of the ship; It seemed like his pa was awake and therefore the time to think up a reasonable excuse was over – it was do or die time. “Agh, Inge lad.. My head’s poundin’,” His father hissed. A weathered hand placed firmly upon his brow – his stormy grey eye squinting out of the doorway at his adopted son. “What you lookin’ so happy about?!” He snapped, crunching his screwy teeth together to form a grimace, his hangover was obviously causing him some trouble; headache, bad mood, pain caused by bright lights. However, for the teen this came as a blessing , hopefully the effects of the alcohol would’ve wiped his memory of the night before clean away. Allowing Inge to fabricate whatever story he pleased.
“Pa... Last night you had a bit too much to drink.” He began, shuffling about on deck – avoiding direct eye contact with his hung-over father.
“I know that you little toe rag.” Retorted Jeremiah, not pleased that his son appeared to be going into a lecture, he was the captain of this ship and if the boy thought he could scold him, he’d hang the little rat from the nearest high place by his ears.
“Well, I think you did some damage to the ship.” Inge held his breath; would it work? This tactic of switching the blame onto his father was risky. If it backfired the hiding he’d get would sting for weeks. An expectant silence hung in the air and the tension between the old sailor and the youth could well have been cut with a knife. Floundering in the awkwardness Inge loosely gestured to the rust patch. “You got this new cleaning stuff from someone at the inn, and you used it here.. I think you threw the bottle overboard afterwards. But it’s made the deck rusty.” He paused and scanned the boat for other rusty spots that the bottle might’ve caused. A splattering of brown erosion was over the man’s head and Inge pointed to it. “You must’ve got some on there too!” He exclaimed, hoping against hopes that Jeremiah would buy the story...
Jeremiah rubbed his beard and growled quietly to himself, muttering something about how he’d rip the baby making factories off the guy who sold him the cleaning liquid if only he could remember who it had been. He turned to duck back inside the boat, presumably to rustle up some breakfast for himself and a strong black cup of coffee to combat the feeling in his head that was somewhat akin to nails being pulled down a chalk board. Before he disappeared he cocked his head to peer backwards with his one eye. “Quit smirkin’ like that. You better go to the steel yard to get us some metal to repair the damage.” Eager to get away from the scene of the crime Inge snatched up the bottle from where he’d put it and leapt off the dock onto the pier that the boat was tied to. It lurched slightly with the sudden change in balance and Inge heard a cuss come from where his father was in the boat. Wincing, he hastily made his way down the pier and to the quayside before his father could emerge swearing and roaring about whatever accident Inge’s leaping departure had caused.
The steelyard wasn’t far from the docks, for obvious reasons, it wasn’t practical to heft bits of steel across the city, however there was a short walk and Inge intended to enjoy this snippet of freedom and revelled in the chance to take his time and stroll through the Aimes streets in the early morning. It was practically empty; only a few others like him, doing errands or jobs. A pleasant postman nodded a good morning as he passed and a milkman’s whistling tune caught in the teen’s head. He pondered how he was going to procure the metal that he required this time.
Mr Smith would recognise his face all too well and knew better than to allow Inge to purchase metal without coughing up the money up front. Jeremiah was rather notorious for his elusive nature when it came to paying back debts and this wasn’t the first time that he’d sent Inge to plead for materials to repair their tired old fishing boat. Last time Inge had gone to the steelyard he’d quite literally been thrown out and the leaky roof in the bathroom still dripped whenever the weather turned foul. His only hope was that Mr Smith would be in a particularly good mood... But there was an unfortunate similarity between the metal vendor and Inge’s own father – it was rare to catch either of them in a good mood.
Stopping at the entrance to the steelyard Inge looked into it for some sign of activity, a cheerful Mr Smith with a smile to greet him? It was not to be. Instead he was met with the glowering stare of Mr Smith’s dog, Arnold.
Arnold was like his master in so many ways; the permanent scowl was one feature they both shared, and his rather violent tendencies were another. The teen took a step forwards and was greeted with a vicious sounding growl that Inge was almost certain would translate into; “take another step and you’re dead meat.” However, despite the dog’s hostility Inge had to get the metal he required – the dog was chained up, his father wouldn’t have any restraints if he returned without what he’d been asked to get. Therefore Inge warily took another step into the steelyard and glanced around for some sign of human activity. He still found nothing and Arnold remained growling – rising to a grizzled thunder as Inge shuffled towards the ramshackle hut near the entrance where Mr Smith usually resided.
If he wasn’t around and about already then he would most likely still be asleep... How would the man take to being woken up to Inge’s request for yet more free metal? A lump rose in the teen’s throat at the thought, yet he had no other choice but to press on.
Resigned to the fact he would most likely get shouted at, he rested a hand on the doorknocker and pulled it back to rap loudly... But was interrupted by a cough behind him and a hushed, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you..”
Turning, rather startled at the presence of someone else, Inge stared wide eyed at the person who had spoken. He was met with a familiar wry smile and the glint of mischievous hazel eyes. Sam! How could he have forgotten her? She was Mr Smith’s daughter and luckily she hadn’t inherited his grumpy attitude. She stood hands on hips as he lowered the knocker back to its gentle resting place; careful not to make a noise and alert the man inside of his presence. Hopefully the more generous girl would give him the benefit of the doubt and would give him the metal he needed, but before he could inquire she made a gesture for him to move away from the hut. It was a fair point, talking right under Mr Smith’s nose wasn’t wise, especially if Inge was going to request some metal on the sly.
Once safely out of ear shot Sam broke into a grin and enveloped Inge in a warm embrace. At this Arnold snarled and rose to his feet his bulky jaw opening to reveal pointed teeth. Breaking the hug Sam frowned at the dog, one hand on her hip the other pointing accusingly at the mutt. “Shut it you!” She scolded, resulting in the dog’s tail dipping between its legs in submission; although one of its bloodshot eyes kept staring at Inge watching for any wrong move.
“So, Inge, long time no see. What’re you here for this time?” Sam’s expression said it all. She knew exactly why he was here – she’d most likely been told by her father about Inge’s previous visit, especially since she appeared to be fighting back a devilish grin.
Drawing in a deep breath Inge shot her an apologetic look. “I need more metal. You see, I got this thing and it makes stuff go rusty..” He held up the bottle which he still clasped in his hand. “But last night I must’ve left it on the deck – normally I’ve been keeping it away from important parts of the boat so it doesn’t do too much damage – and there’s a huge patch of rust. I kind of shifted the blame onto Jeremiah but now he wants me to collect some stuff to fix the damage but didn’t give me any money...As per usual.”” He stopped at the end of his account and sighed heavily.
Unfortunately Sam’s amused expression had sunk into a rather sceptical one. She crossed her arms and examined the bottle. “I’m sorry, but d’you honestly expect me to believe that? You’re a nice guy Inge. You don’t need to making up fairy tales to get what you want.”
Inge winced slightly at her disbelief. “But it’s true.” He uttered, exasperated. He looked around, hurriedly grabbing the nearest metal object. The teen tried to find something that wouldn’t be missed much when tarnished by the potent bottle and swiftly grabbed a handful of screws lying discarded on the floor. Still looking slightly disbelieving Sam watched as Inge held his hand brimming with screws near the bottle in question. Sure enough rust blossomed and flakes of ruddy brown crusted the metallic surfaces. “See.” Inge stated, dropping the screws where they clanged dully on the hard earth.
From amused to sceptical to... excitement? As the screws rusted up her face split into a wide grin and she looked at the bottle eagerly, fingers wiggling eagerly as if she wanted to snatch it away from him and have a good look for herself. “That is so cool!” She exclaimed, speaking more to the bottle than to Inge. Inge shrugged coolly in response. Sam liked the bottle? Personally the attraction of the mystery shrouded object was starting wear thin, especially with the new problem that it had caused. But if she liked it that was good; maybe if he let her have a good play around with it she’d give him the metal? As if reading his thoughts the girl outstretched her hands for the bottle to be placed in them.
“Go root around over there,” she gestured loosely towards a mound of scrap metal, “I can’t give you any of the good stuff ‘cause dad’ll go crazy if he found out.. But for a quick patch up that stuff should do.”
Quite happily handing over the bottle Inge set about searching for the metal he required. It seemed as though the cause of his problem had turned out to be the fix for it too.
word count; 2080.
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 2:51 pm
|| Journal Entry - Clouds, chaos and children! || The mist of sea spray slapped Inge in the face as he struggled with the hefty net, lightly muscled arms tugging and heaving – burning with the strain. As per usual the beginnings of summer had lulled him into a false sense of security; the pleasantly warm breezes, sunny skies and the slowly extending day light hours, complete with hazy evenings spent relaxed on the docks cold drink at hand. But all of these relaxing things had all been a front; out at sea a storm had brewed – unseen and deadly. Not knowing the imposing threat they’d sailed out to sea prepared only for a relaxed fair weather fishing trip but instead had been swept up in this maelstrom. Now Inge and his adopted father were frantically scuttling around deck, saving as much equipment as they could before it got swept away.
As another wave struck the boat Inge cursed profusely, resulting in a mouthful of stinging salt water. This was hopeless! In the pit of his belly the feeling of deep worry for his life stirred like an agitated beast, pacing back and forth in its cage. Already several of the large nets that’d been hanging overboard had been wrenched free at the wrath of the ocean and if the teen wasn’t careful he too could become a victim of the storm and be carried off his usually sturdy feet into the stormy depths.
However, before he could fret further about the awe inspiring strength of the waves, the metal boat shuddered beneath him. Panicked he grasped the side, knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. What was that!? Stories of titans from the depths being stirred in big storms rose to the surface of his mind. Many a time sitting dejectedly in taverns whilst Jeremiah got drunk he had heard frightening tales of the beasts that were rumoured to live out to sea, many miles from the relatively safe waters of Aimes - Krakens with mile long tentacles that could pluck boats from the surface with just a casual flick and Leviathans with maws wide enough to swallow a fleet of vessels whole!
What manner of creature could possibly be attacking the ship!?
His azure eyes scanned the writing waters and although he could see nothing but the furious effects of the weather his mind created spectral tentacles and intangible fins amongst the dip and troughs of the waves. His stomach churned and although he didn’t suffer from seasickness he felt the strong urge to heave overboard, so intense was his fear. However, his fears were quickly corrected as a bellowed command was issued from the cabin of the boat. Although the wind torn at the message, attempting to maliciously remove it before Inge could register what had been said, Inge heard the sound of Jeremiah.
“Inge!! Get IN!”
Only too happy to oblige Inge bounded over the wet surface of the deck to scramble inside.
On entering the cramped cabin he slammed the door behind him, putting the latch on and exhaling deeply. They’d salvaged as much as possible – evidently Jeremiah had chosen safety over rescuing the nets. Equipment could be purchased again, lives on the other hand... couldn’t. His adoptive father wasn’t speaking though, he was hunched over the wheel, desperately trying to keep the boat from being battered too badly by the mountainous waves. The only speech that Inge got out of him was a grunt.
“Clothes.”
Inge nodded. They were both drenched and if they wanted to avoid catching something nasty it’d be best for them both to get a change of clothes. Of course, the grizzled man couldn’t leave the wheel so he was expecting Inge get the clothes for him. Considering that Jeremiah’s impressive control at the wheel was currently the only thing that was preventing the boat from capsizing Inge was eager to appease him and scarpered down the length of the boat, skilfully keeping his balance despite the lurching. He fumbled with the doorknob to his room, and frowned when he found that the entirety of its surface was covered in crumbling orange rust. Obviously it must be the work of the bottle... But then again, the bottle's tarnishing shroud did not affect anything over a foot away and Inge was sure he'd left the bottle in his hammock, easily a metre or so away from the entrance to the room. Perplexed he turned the knob - now very stiff - and entered the room.
What met him certainly wasn't what he expected. A boy. A real life boy sat in the centre of the room - rust hued eyes glaring up at him. Inge could not even begin to form an explanation for the phenomenon and whilst the teen stood there aghast, the mysterious child pouted and jabbed an accusing finger at him.
"Help. Now."
Inge frowned at this demand. What did the boy need help with? Then he spotted it. The large white tee that the boy was wearing was actually his own - his eyes flicked to the cabinet where he kept his clothes; yes, it was a jar and several items were strewn on the floor. However, the child had only managed to get one arm into the sleeve; the other looked as if it was trapped under the material. Rather than accusing the boy of stealing Inge did indeed feel the desire to comply with the rather forceful request and sidled over to him. Tentatively examining him earlier Inge pried at the t-shirt.
Everything about the boy seemed utterly human. His hair was ruffled into reddish brown peaks and his eyes, that were still filled with a determined yet grumpy expression were wonderfully coloured; a whole host of different oranges and reds swirling in their midst. To top off the quite heart melting appearance there was a smattering of freckles on his face. However, as Inge attempted to help the boy wear the over sized t-shirt correctly, the boy's apparent human-ness was quickly dispelled. Though the thin white material the child's arm felt oddly rough and as the fisherman wrestled the limb through the sleeve he saw the reason why the child couldn't have done it himself. The arm was plagued by a covering of rust and hung limply as if crippled.
Dumbfounded the teen stared aghast. Stupidly the question of how to explain this to Jeremiah struck him... (It was laughable that it seemed to be solely the boy’s arm that would be the issue – rather than his existence as a whole!) His lips pulled into various different shapes and suddenly it appeared as though medleys of different exclamations were trying to free themselves but none broke his stunned silence.
Meanwhile the dustling was settling into his new clothes quite contently. In fact, after a few curious tugs and shuffles he was comfortable enough to continue his exploration – primarily scouting out the doorway and the rest of the vessel that he had been born in.
"Show me. All. Now."
Now that was a demand that Inge couldn’t deal with... Yet. Having the boy wandering in on his adopted father in the midst of a storm would not do at all! Not only would the already irritable man be seething with pent up anger at the weather, distracting Jeremiah could result in the boat capsizing; cutting the new life’s life to an abrupt end. Thus the straw haired boy positioned himself in front of the door, blocking the child’s way.
"Not now.. Later, ok?" He pleaded, gently restraining the boy and diverting a grabbing hand from the already maimed doorknob.
This denial quickly prompted a sullen pout and a few curt demands about why he couldn’t be allowed his desire. The teen diffused them fairly skilfully and distracting the child with a ragged toy dug out of a closet – a relic from Inge’s own childhood – he slipped out to complete the task of giving Jeremiah new clothes... Fixing a blank expression on his face for now – when, if, they got out of the storm and back to port he had some serious explaining to do...
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 2:05 pm
|| Journal Entry - Explanation time... || Dark blue hues streaked the dusky sky, the heavy contrast of colours the only reminder of the storm that had just ravaged the seas. The engine of the boat gave a last choked wheeze as they pulled up to the docks, Inge’s lithe figure scrambling ashore and nimbly tying battered and salt encrusted ropes to the familiar mooring points. All aboard were awash with a sense of both relaxation and victory – they’d survived the freak weather incident and now, safe at the floating city, they could reward themselves with something nice; even if all they wanted was a good night sleep in relaxation. However, inside the teen’s head as he tied ropes was a voice niggling and prodding at him. “There’s a strange boy in your cabin and if you don’t want Jeremiah to toss him over board, the sooner you tell the old sailor – the better.”
Hopping back aboard Inge took a deep breath in an attempt to summon the bravery needed to confront his adopted father – no doubt, the irritable old man would refuse to feed another mouth. However, before he could stride into the cabin he was met by a grizzled. Jeremiah was making his way across the small space of the deck, uncharacteristically friendly...
“Inge lad. That was a tight spot...We did well though.” He grunted, patting the boy on the back with a rough palm. “Fancy a drink? Me ol’ chums at the tavern would love to hear about you jus’ standin’ on the deck like a frightened rabbit!” A gruff chuckled escaped him and Inge attempted to mirror the humour, choking out a laugh before threading his fingers and bowing his head to look out of the intense gaze of his adopted father’s singular eye.
“Uhh, I’d love to pa.. But...” Inge began, trying for about the one hundredth time since the boy’s appearance to fine an explanation that would appease Jeremiah. However, the pattering of small feet, followed by a sigh – almost of disappointment – quickly cut the teen short. The child was out of his room and had made his way on deck. He was still swamped in Inge’s tee-shirt, which billowed like a worn out sail in the light sea breeze, and his curious eyes were eyeing up the stocky figure standing between him and Inge.
“Move.” He commanded, using his one good arm to biff the legs of the obstacle. One thing Inge was sure of by now was that the little boy wasn’t afraid of being rude... Several times during the journey back to port, when Inge had returned to the cabin as a bundle of nerves, the child had snapped orders at him: “Get me a drink.” “Play with me.” “Let me explore.” The latter Inge had denied profusely, which resulted in the rusty child clambering up him to tug furiously on his hair – repeating the command over and over. Evidently the boy had decided that requesting simply wasn’t going to get what he wanted and had taken it into his own hands to fulfil his desire to see the wonders of the world outside the confine s of Inge’s bedroom. Unfortunately his had led him and his worried teenage guardian, straight into the dragon’s mouth.
Jeremiah swivelled to face his attacker, head bobbing down to meet accusing stare of the boy.
“Move it.”
The boy was fully glaring now; adamant that this new obstruction, a bad smelling (like sea brine and fish) one eyed creature, was in the wrong and should get out of his way as soon as possible. The old sailor seemed slightly taken aback – a first time occurrence since Inge had met his adopted father – and cautiously side stepped allowing the child to bustle past.
“What the-?”
If Inge had hoped to separate the accursed child from him to reduce the blame and fury of his father falling on him, then that strategy was quickly blown to smithereens; a tanned hand grasped his and tugged (the child seemed to have a fondness for tugging to get attention) followed by.. “You show me all the place now.”
Inge actually winced at this, his ocean blue eyes reluctantly meeting the coldly quizzical eyes of Jeremiah. Though the weathered man didn’t say anything, his stance and gaze simply said: “Well? Explain yourself.” However, still no excuse or way to slip the blame presented itself to him; leaving him with just one way to proceed. He had to tell the truth, no matter how illogical or far-fetched it sounded – Jeremiah would have to stomach it.
“He just appeared on the boat during the storm. Well, I say appeared but I suppose I’ve had him around for a while – though before I think he was a bottle. Sam saw it... I thought it was harmless, like a good luck charm of sorts.” He carefully left out the rusting properties of the bottle and judging by the rapidly deteriorating quality of his metal door handle on his bedroom the child also had the tarnishing power. He rambled on about how he’d found the bottle, listing the strange development and was beginning to touch upon his meetings with other similar people – Krinn and Cadaver – when a gruff chuckle disrupted his telling of the tale.
His eyes had diverted themselves during his explanation, roaming over the docks as if to avoid his father’s anger that was sure to happen any time soon, however, with the cough he turned his worried gaze back to his father. What he saw totally surprised him. Rather than fuming with disapproval, Jeremiah was tousling the hair of the boy, a... (Inge could barely believe it) smile breaching his usually stern features; like a sun penetrating storm clouds. “Good kid.” His father practically purred, touching the crippled arm lightly, a motion that seemed to highly irk the child (as it was met with a clash of thin brows and bared angry teeth.
This time it was Inge who was silently questioning and the explanation came swiftly and in the older fisherman’s usual gruff manner; “He’s a lucky charm.” Gawking at how easy it seemed to be Inge dared to pose the question that was niggling at him.
“So, can we keep him?”
Jeremiah's expression dropped and his caterpillar eyebrows knitted. “Of course! I wouldn't risk the bad luck of ditching him!” Relieved Inge let out a long sigh... The boy was accepted... Now he just hand to gently phase in the knowledge that his father had just allowed a rust inducing child to dwell on his primarily metal ship... But that could wait.. He had to cater to the boy's current desire to explore.
Thus he slipped forward and took the brown eyed boy's small hand and begun to lead him off the boat to marvel at the docks.. However, Jeremiah wanted to know something before they left. What's it's name? The kid has to have a name.” Ah... At this inquiry Inge was stumped. Naming the child hadn't even crossed his mind, he'd been too preoccupied with keeping him hidden and concocting ways to placate Jeremiah if he'd been mad...
“Oxiin.”
The boy's reply stunned Inge. He hadn't said anything about his name beforehand... However, it satisfied Jeremiah long enough for him to make an escape before any more pressing questions could be asked... No doubt they'd come later. Right now they had some exploring to do!
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 6:19 am
|| Roleplay - Lazy afternoons. ||Who; Oxiin, Ziya, Inge & Ashton. When; Late morning on a warm lazy Saturday. Where; The docks on which Inge's home is moored. Summary; •___Roused by his new charge Inge is promptly dragged from his slumber to discover that Oxiin wants to take him to see
•___another child who's on the docks.
•___Perplexed at the sudden social turn of the boy Inge gets up and makes him and Oxiin presentable before greeting the
•___child and parent, calmly fishing in the summer heat.
•___Despite Inge's hopes, the reason behind Oxiin's curiosity is that the Rust Dustling can feel something similar static
•___radiating off the other child, not just that he wants idle chitter chatter.
•___However, once awkward introductions are complete Inge starts conversation with the lightning haired boy and quickly
•___suggests that they join with the fishing leaving Oxiin to talk whilst he fetched the rods... { Ended prematurely. }
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 4:44 am
|| Roleplay - A seafarer he's not. ||Who; Oxiin, Konstantin (bottle), Inge, Alfons & Ezekiel. When; Midday, just a little after noon. Where; Amies Circle, more specifically the notice board. Summary; { NEEDS FILLING IN }
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 12:53 pm
|| Journal Entry - Rubadubdub - Get in the tub! || The tub sat in the centre of the room, a light curl of steam wafting off the water as the dustling’s rich golden eyes warily examined it. Inge had evidently gone to great lengths to make the bath seem appealing; bubble bath (purchased from the expensive luxuries merchant in the market) perfumed the air with heavy traces of lavender and nestled in the bubbly mass was a cute floating duck – it’s red wooden bill curved into a playful grin. However, Oxiin was fooled. He’d been living in Inge’s care for about a month or so now and he remembered his first encounter with a bar of soap about a week after his ‘birth’.
Yes, he had sunk foolishly into the tub – a plastic one, specially acquired for him due to the fact he’d turn the normal tin bath into a rusty sieve. However, after a few minutes of happy soaking and scrubby the cleansing ritual Inge encouraged so much went awry. The soap, smeared all over his naked body had caused such a terrible itching in his rust infected arm! He had nearly scratched the accursed limb off! Apparently the useless thing didn’t enjoy the contact of the cleansing suds – heck, even hours after the bath the raw itching had persisted! There was no way in hell that he would willingly put himself through that again.
“Your you’re dirty!” Exclaimed an exasperated Inge as Oxiin sullenly shook his head.
“You’re going to smell, don’y you care if-” he paused, scrabbling with his train of thought for something that might prompt Oxiin into entering the water. “-all the girls think you smell like fish?”
Oxiin shrugged, prompting another annoyed grunt from Inge. The child could be so stubborn sometimes! He was almost as infuriating as Jeremiah. Both the sea captain and the bottle child had that same determination; when they decided on something it took mountains of effort before they would even begin to budge. It was exhausting!
“I don’t smell like fish anyway.. And I don’t care about girls.” Oxiin spat out the latter section with contempt. It was true, the dustling’s interactions with the opposite sex were limited to casual observances whist out with Inge and very occasionally when he did talk to them they seemed silly and even stupid – like Inge’s worrying nature, only worse! Oh, and there was Sam too. Oxiin hated Sam. Inge had taken him to visit her once or twice. Apparently she had seen him whilst he had been a bottle and now found it acceptable to pinch his cheeks and call him cute. The only reason the rust boy tolerated her was for all the interesting metal scraps she provided him with.
The fisherman groaned inwardly. Why would nothing work? Three days now he had tried all sorts of tactics: good cop, bad cop, trickery even! Jeremiah was no help either. Now he smelt like bad fish! Then it struck him... That could be the problem. Bad role modelling? Maybe-
“If I bath, will you do it then?”
He was met with a blank face as a reply – Oxiin was sulking now. Not rising to the bait, hoping that Inge would just give up and let him be. He wasn’t going to wash.
“Fine. I’ll bath first, then afterwards you will bath. Even if I have to force you in.” A chord o desperation wavered in Inge’s voice, but he hoped that the child wouldn’t pick up on it. Hastily he removed his clothing, kicking them into a pile in the corner and before turning his attention to the tub. It was quite small actually.... Too small for a somewhat lanky teen like himself. But he couldn’t back out now! That really would be letting the stubborn child well and truly off the hook. So he dipped a toe in, testing the temperature. Yes, it was perfect. Hot enough to make your ears flush pleasantly but not too hot resulting in a lobster effect. Thus he placed first one foot then another, followed by him squatting and eventually laying down in the delightful water.
“Ahh~” He sighed, his aching muscles relaxing after a long day of work.
His ward took this moment of relaxation to make his escape and with a scuffle the child had vanished out of the doorway, presumably scampering as fast as he could away from the boat – no doubt seeking refuge in a nook or cranny of the docks... Inge would never catch him if he didn’t get out right away!
Sloshing he tried to get up.
What?
His arms were wedged. He wriggled slightly. Yes. His shoulders and arms were pinned in the tub, rendering him unable to get up and pursue! Inge had thought the tub to be too tight a squeeze! What could he do now?!
Shame welled up. He had no other choice...
“Oxiiiiiiin....”
He paused, waiting for a response. Luckily there was the sound of movement outside the doorway, revealing that the boy hadn’t quite scarpered yet.
“Oxiin... I’m stuck...”
A head topped with tousled hair poked in, observed the scene and exited, bursting with a fit of giggles.
“Oxiin! No!" The sound of his giggles receded as he moved away from the room down the boat. "Don’t go! Please.. I won’t make you wash. Honestly!!" The door to the deck slammed shut and the dust's foot steps could be heard tapping away from the docks... "DON’T LEAVE ME HERE OXIIN!”
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 9:07 am
|| Roleplay - Regnum de Duos - The Kingdom of Two. ||Who; Oxiin & Amleth. When; Late afternoon. Where; Residential area near the market. Summary; { IN PROGRESS }
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