Welcome to Gaia! ::

[Attention TOYS patrons. This is not a TOYS related private RP. That said, No, you may not post random PRPs between pets that are not related to TOYS. You may make PRPs in this guild if one of the pets involved is from this shop.]

Pariah was left on the ship to tend it. He was always left on the ship. Don Kreig didn't trust him as much as he should. He was a good fighter, an amazing sharpshooter, but flighty when it came to commitments. Don had the feeling that if he let Pariah have too much time off the ship, he'd find something else to do with his time, and he'd lose his sharpshooter. Don Kreig had a right to be wary, as it was, Pariah was only working under contractural obligation. Most others would have been quickly shed for such a thing, but Don didn't care much for losing members of his crew. Then again, he was lucky he supposed he slipped under the radar, because honestly he was more worried of the first and second officers than Don himself.

However, the oddity about this trip, was Don Kreig was in serious trouble. Some gummy-armed punk kicked the snot out of him, breaking the famous Wootz armor. He'd been suprised to see it happen, and barely escaped with his skin intact. The damage tallies were staggering. Pariah sat curled up over a desk with pen and paper, drawing plans for a better rifle. His was a single shooting, short range rifle that had a tendancy to veer to the left when he fired. While he was used to it, the design screamed for improvements. He was just finishing it up when he heard the loud CLOONK of an empty water barrel falling free and dropping on the deck. He folded his paper and slid it into his belt when he stepped out to investigate.

Something was amiss. One of the barrels was forced loose, but the others had left a while ago. There was one other pirate on duty with him, but he'd run off somewhere. Pariah's expression soured, his one visable green eye narrowing. He closed the door behind him as he began to move to retrieve the barrel.

Pariah walked across the deck, one of his boots clomping slightly louder than the other. To the untrained ear, it would sound like he was peg legged, but far from it. Between the groaning of the ship, the grinding against the docks, the burbles from the sea, squawks of the gulls, and various other chatters from the distance, he didn't hear the stealthy click of the lock as Pryor tried to set his plan into motion.

The pirate stooped to grab the wayward barrel when the boat's sway caused it to roll faster away from him. He scuttled to catch it and tip it upright, but as he straightened to begin his trek to return the barrel to it's proper place he saw a pineapple sitting upright on one of the others like a pointy yellow head with a green hat. Thinking maybe he missed it before, the unmistakability of someone being there hit him like a ton of bricks when the pineapple began to wibble back and forth and croon, "I am a talking piece of fruit!" His first reaction was to just stare bewildered at it for a moment, the absurdity of it all outweighing the security breach. Was the other guardsman messing with him?

The voice was high and thin, childlike. Instantly, Pariah was in predatory mode. The voice grew louder, masking his approach as he snuck out of view of the cluster of barrels. The next thing the boy would hear would be the clicking of a hammer being cocked somewhere near his head. One bullet was all it would take, and right now the barrel was aimed for funny boy's head.

Squirrely lad, wasn't he? Pariah thought with suprise. Most people froze, or screamed, or tried to slowly back away. This wee snot jumped up like someone lit coals under him. He was pretty spry, too, from carrying a big ol...It was a wooden thing. He didn't have much a chance to look at it before the kid was flying through the air, and barrels were crashing all around, and he came face to face with that talking pineapple.

"Aw, Shi--" That was all he got out before his teeth locked over the juicy fruit. The spikes dug into his cheeks, but Pariah had little time to worry about that. He was quickly losing the boy under a mound of barrels. His heavy boot came in good handy then as he swiftly began to boot the barrels out of the way around the deck. He was careful not to smash his foot into them, just knock them out of the way. One of the wooden mounds he kicked was the kid's precious chest, which unfortunately was still chained to him. It wasn't hard enough to shift the boy from his position on the floor, but he'd probably be feeling that one for a while.

One boot came down roughly on the hem of his shirt and vest, pinning it to the floor. He steadied himself as he leveled his gun again on the dark haired boy, this time though, he was hoping against a repeat performance. He wouldn't be so sluggesh on the trigger.

Pariah, while not the biggest fellow around, was obviously in superior physical condition. Through his leather armor, his muscles flexed in the sunlight. He was breathing heavily from wrestling barrels out of the way, but oddly was grinning. Long ears peeked out from under his blonde hair that quickly darkened to hair that was about the same shade as the kid's, if a touch more red. One eye was bandaged out of sight, but the other was a glinting dark green of some hidden forest. He was partially armored, but more suited for speed, his armor selective for his profession, which was a sharpshooter. However, an odd gizmo was on his gun arm, the true function remained unknown at this moment. Tied to his belt was a long tail sporting similar blonde fur to the hair on the top of Pariah's head. It fell to the floor, limp.

Pariah used his other hand to pull the pineapple from his mouth, which he chewed gratefully until he was able to speak.

"You got spunk kid, but I wouldn't reccomend that trick again. You wanna calm down an talk to me?"
It was more an order than an inquiry, but he wasn't outright abusing him for what he did already.

Pariah didn't continue to eat the lad's ill gotten breakfast. He seemed content to stand, slowly crushing the lad underfoot for a moment, keeping a wary eye on him. He was unpredictable, but at least amiable. Foolish too. He smiled, but watched him slowly wring his wrist, dragging the chest in closer. He clicked his teeth slowly. Naughty naughty.
"In my defense, you broke onto m'captain's ship. Kreig's gonna have my NECK if he comes back to the deck lookin' this way."

"What happened to Don Kreig's armor?" The kid asked straight away.

"Forward aren't we? I guess, 'Hello, what's yer name, 'ow's yer mum?' don't apply here, ey?" He lifted his boot slightly to let Pryor inhale. Pariah suprised himself with his sudden sarcasm. He stopped to look at the squirming boy beneath him. He saw something there that reminded him of his own youth down below his boot. Had he been here himself once in his past? Not on this ship maybe, not with Krieg, but...

"Why you wanna know? Surely simple curiosity doesn't cause a kid to risk his neck like you are." Pariah was still watching his hand, ready in case he tried to pull anything, but he himself looked less likely to blow the kid's brain onto the deck.

"Just a locksmith, ey? Nope, I think you'd be the first." He stopped as Pryor continued, going on about the famed Wootz steel. He lifted an eyebrow.
"Dunno if you noticed, kid, but you just missed Kreig. Though, with all the ruckus, I'd say he'd be heading back soon." Pariah saw those big blue eyes shift as his head rolled around nervously, and grinned. He wasn't impressed with the crack about his mum, but at least he got a name out of the kid. He finally let up his boot and uncocked his pistol. He didn't holster it, but stepped back from the brunette boy and tossed the pineapple to him.

"I don't wanna dissappoint a clever lad like you, Pryor, but Krieg don't just pass out pieces about you know. He doesn't even tell us where he's got it all stashed. Not that I have a mind to look for it, mind you." He pinned a steely green gaze on Pryor, which meant 'no way, no how.' It also meant 'if you try any shennanery, I'm gonna have get reeeeal upset.' His patience was not legendary, though he wasn't hot headed. Pariah just didn't tolerate too much fooling around.

"But.." He smiled coyly, his ears twitching slightly. "Say, you got any of yer own stuff? I'd bet Krieg wouldn't kill anyone who could help him out somehow." Pariah began tipping up barrels, hoping Pryor would take the bait to find out more. Curiosity could be his ally too. Pariah was sure not to let his gaze leave the lad for more than a flicker at a time, but he had to keep the deck in order, or it would be his neck alongside Pryor's.

Pariah stared at the boy in disbelief. There was no way Kreig let him up here voluntarily. He was long disembarked on the island. Pariah began to lash together the fallen barrels when Pryor held up the chest on the chain he'd kicked before. The pirate stretched out his hand and took the chest gingerly this time, and began to examine it closely. It was a fine piece of work.

Holding it in one hand, he pulled back the bandages over his other eye and squinted at it. He frowned, wrong magnification. Reaching down into a pocket under his belt, he fished for the right eye, pulling it out. It matched the other one in size and color, and only a little marking on the back of it could distinguish the two. With a wet pop, Pariah pulled free his long range eye. He held it, glistening in the sunlight, sparkles dancing off the iris before dropping it in with the others. It clacked like a marble as it settled into place, and the pirate dropped in his new eye, blinking a few times. If he hadn't taken it out in front of Pryor, it would have been damn near impossible to know it was false.

He brought the chest closer and examined it, studying the metalwork. He released a low whistle of admiration. It was finely crafted, very fine. In fact, normally he wouldn't have believed the kid, but he saw the worn calluses of a blacksmith's hands in this lad and knew it to be truth. He handed the chest back to Pryor and pulled the bandage back over his eye before the light could irritate him. He'd swap it out again later.

"What kind of pirate do you take me for?"
That statement earned a hearty laugh from Pariah,
"One does not simply walk up to Kreig and ask for a piece of his prized armor."

"S'not what I meant, kid." He grinned, and straightened, folding his arms. He towered over Pryor, and cast his shadow over him. The boy was a rough and tumble ten year old with tousled brown hair and flashing blue eyes, but he was spry, and he was quick, and believe it or not, Pariah took quite a liking to him.
"So you think you're a pirate?" He shook his head in amusement, "Not yet anyway. Listen. When Ol' Captain Kreig comes back, I'll vouch for your talents, and maybe he'll think on lettin you have a go at making Wootz steel as a cabin boy, but you gotta do something for me."

Pariah walked to the other side of the deck and began rolling barrels back to the mast, lashing them tightly together in place with the others with a legnth of rope. Soon enough, he had the deck cleaned.

Pariah hopped up on one of the barrels and watched Pryor as he swung his chest around. It reminded him awkwardly of the fighting style involving a scythe and a legnth of chain. Only with this, the damage would come from bludgeoning. A disasterous, but very tricky fighting style. If Pryor missed, it would leave him wide open for counteratta--

He shook his head as his analytical mind began to take over. He wasn't about to start training the kid. He curled up one of his legs against his body and watched the ten year old train. He proclaimed to be a pirate again.
"Ya know what I pirate is without a crew?" He asked, "A thief!"

He had no knowlege of the little grocery store plunder that happened that morning. He watched Pryor as he tried to turn the deal around and lifted a slender blonde eyebrow. With all that talk about being a pirate, he certainly wasn't eager to join a crew. Ambitious for a ten year old. However, he pressed a curled finger to his lip as he thought about the alternative.

After all, what did he care if this boy joined the crew or not? Kreig wasn't the best of captains, and nearly ruined all of them. He'd be better off staying here. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment before replying to the young boy standing before him.
"Alright, you got yourself a deal. Come here."

From his thick tan belt he withdrew the folded paper, the one that held the schematics for a new sharpshooting rifle. It was a modified design with a better barrel, a new sight, and the best improvement, a manual reloading mechanism, to speed reloading to an unheard of six shots. He was proud of it-- something he'd been trying to perfect for years, without the means to constuct it. He held it out for Pryor to take.
"I need a blacksmith who can fashion the parts with a good steel that won't shatter."

Pariah was confused on how a ten year old could be so adamant on being his own captain-- like anyone would follow him. Pariah began to think he'd get himself killed acting the way he did. It was one thing to want, another to achieve. He let go of the piece of paper. He had others, so he wasn't too concerned.

"Pariah."

He shrugged and shifted his weight so the gun could drop into view a little more. He was awful proud of it, though the reason he had to get the new gun was because he broke his last one adding extra powder to increase the range. This one was better, but not by much.

"Yeah."