Aug 2, 2017 4:58:55 GMT -5
Post by Ten on Aug 2, 2017 4:58:55 GMT -5
the ship docked into the harbor with a jolt.
he used the word 'ship' in a loose sense: it was more of a large and ramshackle floating implement, with haphazardly-patched-up leaks and a sail ridden with holes. 'harbor', too, wasn't the most precise of descriptions: it was an outcropping of rock jutting out of the island, with a single wooden stick protruding proudly outwards, that old man hook was currently tying a rope around.
it was, quite frankly, pathetic.
that, however, didn't stop ten from stumbling from where he'd been tucked, knees to chin, in a corner of the deck to the nearest handhold. beneath his feet, the ship rocked, calmer now that it had been tethered to land. unsteady and only half-cognizant from motion-sickness, he pressed his head against the wooden railing, and took a deep breath of the salty-sick sea air.
someone thumped his back. ten choked, first on his spit, then on the surging urge to vomit.
"you'll get your sea legs soon, son," old man hook half-yelled into his ear, "i really appreciate you doin' this."
"mm." ten hummed an affirmative just to get the npc of his back and onto the next segment of his programmed speech. he wondered how the npc would react if he told him he was in it just for the money -- but decided against it. there was no point risking a five-minute long, pre-programmed and unskippable spiel. he just needed to get of the ship, as soon as his legs decided to cooperate.
"i've given you my map, taken you to the island -- " he slapped a hand against ten's back again. ten wanted to cry. "-- it's up to the two of you from here on out."
wait. two?
ten straightened out of his crouch, and -- for the first time since he got on the ship -- took a look around.
made by wizzhe used the word 'ship' in a loose sense: it was more of a large and ramshackle floating implement, with haphazardly-patched-up leaks and a sail ridden with holes. 'harbor', too, wasn't the most precise of descriptions: it was an outcropping of rock jutting out of the island, with a single wooden stick protruding proudly outwards, that old man hook was currently tying a rope around.
it was, quite frankly, pathetic.
that, however, didn't stop ten from stumbling from where he'd been tucked, knees to chin, in a corner of the deck to the nearest handhold. beneath his feet, the ship rocked, calmer now that it had been tethered to land. unsteady and only half-cognizant from motion-sickness, he pressed his head against the wooden railing, and took a deep breath of the salty-sick sea air.
someone thumped his back. ten choked, first on his spit, then on the surging urge to vomit.
"you'll get your sea legs soon, son," old man hook half-yelled into his ear, "i really appreciate you doin' this."
"mm." ten hummed an affirmative just to get the npc of his back and onto the next segment of his programmed speech. he wondered how the npc would react if he told him he was in it just for the money -- but decided against it. there was no point risking a five-minute long, pre-programmed and unskippable spiel. he just needed to get of the ship, as soon as his legs decided to cooperate.
"i've given you my map, taken you to the island -- " he slapped a hand against ten's back again. ten wanted to cry. "-- it's up to the two of you from here on out."
wait. two?
ten straightened out of his crouch, and -- for the first time since he got on the ship -- took a look around.
