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[img]https://i.postimg.cc/DyH88WMW/Kid-s-Hat-Final.png[/img]

[color=8258fa]Level:[/color] 7 (38 -> 39/70)
[color=8258fa]Location:[/color] Edge of the Blue - Bottomless Sea -> The Maw -> Carcass Isle
[color=8258fa]Word Count:[/color] 572 (+1 EXP)

[color=8258fa]Hat:[/color] Default
[color=8258fa]Item:[/color] Necro Smasher (Loan)
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If there was anything worse than deliriously waking up shipwrecked on a storm-sodden beach facedown with a mouthful of wet sand, it was shortly finding out soon after your senses adjusted that the mouthful of sand you just spat out had been blackened and saturated with a visibly long history’s worth of decay. Hat Kid practically retched to clear her lungs of salt water and mouth of putrescent earth before the realization fully reached her, thereafter prompting further involuntary expulsive response. The good news, considering, was that she had a none too generous supply of rainwater to wash the rest of the fouled, muddy grit from her tongue, palate and cheeks with, going so far as to submerge her face agape into her flooded top hat after the first couple of spit rinses failed to suffice. Better still was that she managed to escape the Maw with life and limb intact, with psyche being a matter of probable debate that perhaps time alone would warrant. Naturally, the story of her time aboard the nightmare vessel circumstantially differed from that of her travel companions as a consequence of their separation early on into it, and she wasn’t sure if it was a story she would ever care to tell. What was another Diary entry left blank?

Lucky enough to be afforded a chance at having more days ahead of her, hopefully far better than the one she was having (for it would be hard to make for one worse), she couldn't complain. Well… at the moment she [i]could[/i], actually. Things were, frankly, [i]terrible[/i], but who among them could stand to hear it, even if she cared to voice their shared discontent? Beaching the colossal submarine of horrors on a desolate isle of death and rot was her 'brilliant' idea, after all. Though, she didn't have the best track record of [i]safely[/i] guiding ships over sea, thus didn't trust herself to venture it back after coming this far, or trust the Maw to peacefully dock anywhere. So the only conceivable outcome happened to be the closest to ideal, for what that was worth. Where better for something like THAT to end up than where things go to die? Neither it, nor any culpable body aboard it, deserved a fate any better.

The last forlornly pensive gaze she cast upon the Maw held a sense of triumphant vindication for having personally seen to it meeting its ultimate end. As if to say her good riddances, she spitefully spat her last swig at the ground facing the ship's direction before turning away to take her first steps ashore away from it, on her way to anywhere else. To find out exactly where that would be, she needed the internal waypoint finder provided by her Hat, minding not the near gallon of water she emptied on her head donning it. It wasn't like she could get any more soaked than she already was. Still, that was no reason she had to linger in the lighter (but still monsoon-esque) portion of megahurricane weather, so she took her place among the survivors of Blue Team beneath the first patch of shelter they could find. She would sit for at least long enough to (try to) relax, regain her bearings and confirm their heading while they were out of the rain, all the while playing [url=https://youtu.be/VoEEsykZd6o]a soothing, familiar tune[/url] in her head in a quiet effort to ease her nerves.