heh heh
"sir, you have to take this medicine or you'll die"
"NO FUCK GET AWAY FROM ME" *sprays with Raid*
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Isam writhed around on the deck, his bloody hand making a mess of the otherwise stark white fiberglass. He struggled to get to his feet and stop the boat, which was now heading for land and liable to beach itself if something wasn't done. When he finally got up, Isam stumbled his way over to the sail and lowered it, then staggered/crawled to the anchor and threw it overboard. He then flopped down on his back, his head swimming. A large, dark red bruise was already forming on the side of his head, along with a sizable knot. Isam internally cursed himself, this boat, and the strange, childish man all to hell.
But what was done was done, and Isam needed bandages for his head. Being as dizzy and disoriented as he was, the ladder down into the cabin would prove impossible for him to climb. He looked over at this new passenger, who seemed rather harmless after disarming himself.
"Do you see that hatch over there?" He asked, half slurred, "Go down it; it leads to the inside of the boat. Inside, there will be a cabinet to your left, and inside that, there is a large green box that says 'ocean safety first aid kit'. Can you bring that to me?"
His head was still bleeding copiously, with little sign of slowing. Head wounds always bled a lot, Isam knew from experience, but this was abnormal. He suspected his sickness had something to do with it. Between a concussion and his mystery illness, Isam had dug himself a nice little grave. His new company didn't appear to be a threat, and he seemed willing to help. If he wanted to live, Isam had a feeling he would have to accept whatever help the strange man could give him. He let out a huff and laid his head back against the railing of the boat. He had been longing for company, well now he had it.
But what was done was done, and Isam needed bandages for his head. Being as dizzy and disoriented as he was, the ladder down into the cabin would prove impossible for him to climb. He looked over at this new passenger, who seemed rather harmless after disarming himself.
"Do you see that hatch over there?" He asked, half slurred, "Go down it; it leads to the inside of the boat. Inside, there will be a cabinet to your left, and inside that, there is a large green box that says 'ocean safety first aid kit'. Can you bring that to me?"
His head was still bleeding copiously, with little sign of slowing. Head wounds always bled a lot, Isam knew from experience, but this was abnormal. He suspected his sickness had something to do with it. Between a concussion and his mystery illness, Isam had dug himself a nice little grave. His new company didn't appear to be a threat, and he seemed willing to help. If he wanted to live, Isam had a feeling he would have to accept whatever help the strange man could give him. He let out a huff and laid his head back against the railing of the boat. He had been longing for company, well now he had it.
As Isam walked down the hall, he became aware of a quiet whirring noise near his head. He turned, looking all around him before he spotted a small, robotic looking device buzzing around, looking at him. He made an almost offended grunt as he fruitlessly swatted at the device. The blue haired man said something about it 'liking him'.
"Terrific," Isam said dryly. He followed the group down the hall as they went into the medical ward. "Do we have a doctor on board?" It seemed like a good idea. If the crew needed trained soldiers on their mission, something told him there was a chance of getting injured.
Yasha wasn't so much interested in the tour as he was the woman giving it. "Observation deck, huh? What do we get to observe?" He gave a devilish smile, the one he often made after delivering a crude joke. Isam gave a quiet groan and a roll of the eyes. He knew that the man was literally incapable of self restraint, but he was still somehow surprised by how much effort Yasha put into making an ass out of himself.
"So about this mission we are going on, what exactly is it that we're doing?" Isam asked as the group made their way to the deck.
"Terrific," Isam said dryly. He followed the group down the hall as they went into the medical ward. "Do we have a doctor on board?" It seemed like a good idea. If the crew needed trained soldiers on their mission, something told him there was a chance of getting injured.
Yasha wasn't so much interested in the tour as he was the woman giving it. "Observation deck, huh? What do we get to observe?" He gave a devilish smile, the one he often made after delivering a crude joke. Isam gave a quiet groan and a roll of the eyes. He knew that the man was literally incapable of self restraint, but he was still somehow surprised by how much effort Yasha put into making an ass out of himself.
"So about this mission we are going on, what exactly is it that we're doing?" Isam asked as the group made their way to the deck.
Marx said
Isam has a guest on his boat, I hope that's not too much of a problem.
poor guy just can't catch a break
Isam sat at the stern of his boat, the mainsheet line in one hand, the rudder's tiller in the other. The wind wasn't very strong today, so the boat only just crawled along on the water. He probably could have gotten out and pulled the damn thing faster, but it was cold and Isam didn't want to get wet. The graceful drifting would have been relaxing had he not been sick. Isam's whole body had a general, unpleasant feeling. He considered going back into the cabin and laying down again, but the need to get off the boat and stretch his sore legs defeated his urge to lay around like a dying slug.
The wind picked up a little bit, propelling the boat forward a little faster. Isam found himself spacing out as he watched the sails fill. He was pulled back down to earth when he heard a splash in the water on the port side of his boat. A fish maybe? No, definitely not a fish. Isam startled when a man crawled out of the water and tried to board, clinging to the rail and asking for help. He jumped up, dropping both the tiller and the mainsheet to grab his rifle. Isam pointed his gun at the man, eyes wide.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded with a thickly accented voice, not making any move to help the stranger onto his boat. His hands shook; the man was visibly frightened by the surprise encounter. He was probably unsettled enough to actually shoot should the stranger continue trying to haul himself aboard.
But before Isam got the chance to blast his visitor in the face, the boat's rudder shifted. The craft began to turn to the side, the wind catching the sail in the opposite direction now. The sail whipped from port to starboard, the boom making good of it's name and striking Isam right in the head. Isam yelped, dropping his gun as he fell back.
"Ebn el sharmoota!" He swore in frustration, along with a few other choice words, most of them directed at the man clinging to the side of his boat. Pain blossomed on his left temple. His hand automatically reached up to feel the welt, which was now trickling blood down the side of his face.
The wind picked up a little bit, propelling the boat forward a little faster. Isam found himself spacing out as he watched the sails fill. He was pulled back down to earth when he heard a splash in the water on the port side of his boat. A fish maybe? No, definitely not a fish. Isam startled when a man crawled out of the water and tried to board, clinging to the rail and asking for help. He jumped up, dropping both the tiller and the mainsheet to grab his rifle. Isam pointed his gun at the man, eyes wide.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded with a thickly accented voice, not making any move to help the stranger onto his boat. His hands shook; the man was visibly frightened by the surprise encounter. He was probably unsettled enough to actually shoot should the stranger continue trying to haul himself aboard.
But before Isam got the chance to blast his visitor in the face, the boat's rudder shifted. The craft began to turn to the side, the wind catching the sail in the opposite direction now. The sail whipped from port to starboard, the boom making good of it's name and striking Isam right in the head. Isam yelped, dropping his gun as he fell back.
"Ebn el sharmoota!" He swore in frustration, along with a few other choice words, most of them directed at the man clinging to the side of his boat. Pain blossomed on his left temple. His hand automatically reached up to feel the welt, which was now trickling blood down the side of his face.
I always went ahead and made a list of Omar's future meals
poor Isam doesn't get a list
poor Isam doesn't get a list
some are pretty bad
some are just corny
some are just corny
I have compiled a list of Yasha's future nicknames for all the characters
i find it very amusing
i find it very amusing
"Meow," Yash jeered with a wide grin, "Feisty little gerla." At that point, Isam grabbed the man by the arm and hauled him away into the ship. Yasha was a sexual harassment suit just begging to happen. Omar smiled at Amanda apologetically and grabbed his suitcase to follow the other two inside. From the looks of the map they had been given, Isam's assigned room was right across the hall from Omar's. More than likely, it would be used as storage space rather than somewhere for Isam to sleep. Yasha was futher down the hall.
The three went their respective rooms to dump their stuff. Isam's unpacking process was just about that: dump it all on the floor and pick through it. Across the hall, Omar put his suitcase on the bed and began to unpack his clothes. Yasha, who had his copious amounts of weaponry delivered to the ship the night before, made a beeline for the crate that sat in the middle of his room. He pried it open to find that his pride and joy, his TR-32, sitting on top.
"Ah, I missed you too, ol' girl," He said affectionately as he picked the gun up and went to hang it on the display rack on the wall. He didn't even bother unpacking his dufflebag.
Isam didn't have a lot to unpack, so he found himself finished about the same time Yasha had gotten done staring at his new weapons display. Isam went across the hall to talk to Omar for a bit, before the cook headed to the kitchen to get started on the crew's lunch. He had to make a good first impression, after all. Yasha came up behind Isam and clapped him on the back.
"They haven't given us our grand tour yet," He said.
"Because the map obviously isn't enough," Isam snarked.
"Not the same. Paper doesn't replace people, my friend."
"If by people, you mean the woman you were harassing this morning-"
"I'd do a tour with her, alright," He said with a smirk. "Don't think you would be interested in that one."
"Can you at least try to not get another complaint filed against you?"
"Can't make any promises, Falafel."
About that time, Yasha noticed a brunette woman pass by at the end of the hall. He broke off from the conversation follow after her, completely ignoring the little blue haired guy with her. He walked up to her, standing almost a foot taller and reveling in the fact.
"Privet malenkaya devotshka," He said smoothly. "It looks like they forgot to give my friend and I our complimentary tour. Maybe you would be so kind?" Isam came over, figuring he might as well come.
The three went their respective rooms to dump their stuff. Isam's unpacking process was just about that: dump it all on the floor and pick through it. Across the hall, Omar put his suitcase on the bed and began to unpack his clothes. Yasha, who had his copious amounts of weaponry delivered to the ship the night before, made a beeline for the crate that sat in the middle of his room. He pried it open to find that his pride and joy, his TR-32, sitting on top.
"Ah, I missed you too, ol' girl," He said affectionately as he picked the gun up and went to hang it on the display rack on the wall. He didn't even bother unpacking his dufflebag.
Isam didn't have a lot to unpack, so he found himself finished about the same time Yasha had gotten done staring at his new weapons display. Isam went across the hall to talk to Omar for a bit, before the cook headed to the kitchen to get started on the crew's lunch. He had to make a good first impression, after all. Yasha came up behind Isam and clapped him on the back.
"They haven't given us our grand tour yet," He said.
"Because the map obviously isn't enough," Isam snarked.
"Not the same. Paper doesn't replace people, my friend."
"If by people, you mean the woman you were harassing this morning-"
"I'd do a tour with her, alright," He said with a smirk. "Don't think you would be interested in that one."
"Can you at least try to not get another complaint filed against you?"
"Can't make any promises, Falafel."
About that time, Yasha noticed a brunette woman pass by at the end of the hall. He broke off from the conversation follow after her, completely ignoring the little blue haired guy with her. He walked up to her, standing almost a foot taller and reveling in the fact.
"Privet malenkaya devotshka," He said smoothly. "It looks like they forgot to give my friend and I our complimentary tour. Maybe you would be so kind?" Isam came over, figuring he might as well come.
If you're wondering, i already had my post written =P
poor isam is sick and depressed
i thought it might be a bit more realistic if everyone wasn't doing too terrific from the get go
he's been living on a tiny ass boat by himself and living off of fish
no fruit, maybe a few plants here and there
he has scurvy
nothing that won't clear up in a few days if given vitamin C, but enough to make him feel like shit and not try to kill whoever approaches him in a fit of paranoia
poor isam is sick and depressed
i thought it might be a bit more realistic if everyone wasn't doing too terrific from the get go
he's been living on a tiny ass boat by himself and living off of fish
no fruit, maybe a few plants here and there
he has scurvy
nothing that won't clear up in a few days if given vitamin C, but enough to make him feel like shit and not try to kill whoever approaches him in a fit of paranoia
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