Sarpedon

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

but he was up literally all night. like, used up waaay too much candles type all night. he didn't go to bed until ceres was getting up....

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

When Octavius finally woke up, he figured it was probably around noon. Not much sleep, by some standards, but enough for him. The pirate picked himself up off the ground and did a couple of stretches to work out the kinks, before he started cleaning up. He'd managed to save his weaponry, at least for a time. He figured it would probably be prudent to find his old crew quickly, at least one of them could help him out with some newfangled repeating machine that wouldn't rust on the ocean. For now, this would do. He had even managed to check his ammunition, and all the useless cartridges were tossed into a bucket for disposal at some point. Once powder was wet, it was pretty well useless, short of drying it out properly, and that wasn't going to happen on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Some landlubber would probably buy it, though. It didn't take long to dry out cartridges if you didn't live on the sea, and scatterguns and magnum revolvers were popular all over. For now, it waited in the bucket. The rest of the stuff got packed up again, and the warlord finally had the time to properly buckle on his sidearm. Once it was sitting nicely below his hip, he set out for the washing facilities. The smell of gun oil was nice, but being covered in it made a lot of things impossible.

Captain Cuttlam did his best to get the stuff off of him, and succeeded, for the most part. He knew all of it wasn't going to come off, that just couldn't be expected, not when his hands had absorbed so much of it over many years. But he was satisfactorily clean, now, though he wouldn't squeak, thanks to his extended exposure to gun oil. That was probably for the best, though, and the the pirate lord headed back to his cabin to get dressed properly, wondering what the plan was. Obviously there wasn't much of one, but there had to at least be an idea of how they were going to go about changing up command. It wasn't his problem yet, though, and that was the best kind of problem. So he got himself presentable and well-armed, and headed out on deck to see what was going on, curious to see if he'd have an opportunity to eat before dinner time this evening...

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

Octo is still asleep, not much for me to do. want me to rp him sleeping? XD

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

Octavius took pride in his paranoia. The same way a prize buck got old by being skittish and hiding in the deepest, nastiest parts of the forest, the pirate had gotten this far by being paranoid and rolling with the nastiest crew of cutthroats, killers, and thieves the ocean had ever seen. They were mostly gone now, but there were a few he wanted to stir up. If they were going to cruise the Grand Line, he was going to be rolling with all the hardest sea-ravaging barbarians he could get his hands on. Ideally, they would do it in a bigger ship, with more men, but he supposed it could work, so long as his doctor could still work his magic. Speaking of which, Captain Cuttlam figured he should probably track down the man, and make some things clear between them. He finished his dinner and vacated the premises quickly, to find his old friend. The ocean was calm now, and things were going well. Clearly his albatross was working her magic. He was just glad he had passed on the meal. Hopeful, the man hunted down the doctor, a thoughtful smile on his face. It didn't take long, since the ship wasn't large, and the two of them found themselves wandering the deck.

Quiet conversation. Hushed voices. The two looked rather suspicious, if anyone cared to look. No one did, it seemed. The crew had things to do, readying the ship for the night, drawing straws for watch, and then bartering over them. The oceanic warlord chuckled, watching the spectacle, before turning back to the subject at hand. Things went smoothly, it would appear, as the two men seemed to have an understanding between them, even as they spoke, words seemed to be formed less, and concepts became expressed with vague gestures. It wasn't long after that, that anyone actually paying attention might have seen trinkets change hands. Then the pair parted ways, each headed in different directions. The doctor, back to his business, and the pirate lord to his quarters. Meagre, by his usual standard, but plenty for what he needed. He laid out his things to dry quickly, and then headed out, this time clothed in little more than fur he'd manifested to keep watchers on their toes. A brief trip to the armoury netted Octavius everything he needed, and he returned to his room, lamp in one hand, and a bucket in the other. Having lit the lamp, he hung it up, only to swear at the spectacle. His weapons were already covered in rust. A tragedy. Ready to cry, the man set to work, figuring he would likely spend the night here, scrubbing away, and making everything proof against the elements. It was a very familiar feeling that suddenly washed over the man, and the pirate smiled as he worked long into the night... The lamp burned itself out, but by that time, the light streaming in the window was enough to keep working. Headless of the time, he laboured away, refusing to sleep until he was done. It took the whole night, but he managed it. Captain Cuttlam finished his work right around the time someone was starting breakfast. He passed out at last, sprawled on the floor, covered in gun oil, surrounded by grime, weaponry and ammunition. His clothes dangled above, rocking with the ship, drying as their owner finally rested peacefully...

((I like you))

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

that's not excelsior, that's fucking, anti-excelsior. who has time for that shit?

To Save a Life

Bump for visibility.

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

Surtr wasn't sure who he had just killed. And he didn't care. It tasted blood, and as the crimson vitality boiled around him, the weapon cried out in excitement, having been fed for the first time in a long time. It was the succulent flavour of a tormented soul, the irresistible tang of violent death. The blade's warcry was terrifying, and silent. "Oh, do that again. Please? Slay another. Slice them in half, gut them like pigs, slaughter these lambs, led so far astray." he whispered into his wielder's mind. Then he heard her cries. She screamed at the one who seemed to like her. The one that wanted to help. He had everything he needed now. Nothung grinned, or would have, were a sword capable of such facial expressions. "They don't care about you." it whispered into the woman's mind. "Look at them, they think you mad. And they still don't believe you. Even as you blaze with righteous flame, they refuse to accept it." the weapon whispered louder as it spoke, encouraging the madness in his wielder. The wicked thing cackled to itself as it continued to sow unrest in the mind of its owner. "Look at them. All convinced you're weak. None of them trust you. That look in their eyes, it's not fear. Look at them. They don't trust you. They thing you're a stupid, weak little girl. Show them. Slay them all. Show them your strength. I am your friend, would I lie to you? Let me show you how strong you are. Cut them down..."

Even as he spoke, Gram grew lighter, easier to wield. But with every passing second, his power faded. Starving from going so long unblooded, trapped in a cave, the sword could only maintain its violence for so long. But if she kept killing. If this would could keep killing... Oh the things he could do for her. But these ones had to die. The blade was sure he could convince her, he just needed her to take the first few steps down the dark path. Once that was done, it would be an easy task to shove her off the cliffs of madness. Soon enough, weapon and wielder would change roles. It was never very hard. Especially with troubled individuals like this one. But he'd never converted a woman before. They had strange wills, and stranger minds. That didn't worry the weapon, but it made for a new experience. "Kill them. Kill them all. Gut them, flay them, take off their heads. Run them through, for the sakes of all the gods. Please... Let me taste them..." Surtr was not about to put up with hesitation and conversation, and other "tion"-based nonsense. It needed slaughter, it was was prepared to pull some strings and blatantly lie, and do other, more underhanded things just to taste the gore of the slain once more. This wasn't the sort of Frazettan masterpiece the sword imagined when it thought of the sort of violence it desired. But it would be sufficient, it supposed. More than that, even. A blood-soaked princess was probably more attractive than some axe-wielding barbarian anyway. Certainly, if both were standing atop a mountain of corpses, he'd pick the former. The fact that the barbarian already had an axe notwithstanding. This all hinged on his wielder actually slaying all these people, though. Dying a second death by starvation thanks to her sluggishness was not going to go over well. Though he supposed it would give him a chance to find someone more suited to the task, if she couldn't pull it off. "Kill them. Nothing but liars, cheats, and traitors. They hate you. Show them your strength." he encouraged, eager for the slaughter, even as his flames began to fade, albeit unnoticeably slowly...

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

I dunno what time it is. I just know that more people need to die. all of the people, ideally. all of them. except tikki, she gets to kill all the people.

The great pirate era. (Sanquin/Sarpedon)

Octavius had a strange sort of grin split his face when Ceres said her bounty was higher than his. They would see about that. Of course, then she had to share more secrets. He wondered if she was ever going to stop. He decided, in the interest of keeping things brief, that his secrets would stay that way. He didn't need more nonsense at the moment. Apparently this one wasn't much of an event though. The woman claimed to be older than she looked. Which was fine, most women stopped again at twenty-nine anyway. So the pirate shrugged that off, and looked at his plate as the chef commented on his food. "Let 'em." he agreed, pushing it away. "Just tell 'em who refused it, first." he added, shaking his head at the woman. If she hadn't wanted him to ignore it, she shouldn't have started spilling her guts. Secrets were usually secret for a reason. In this case, it would have been best for her to keep them. But since she hadn't, the captain now had some idea of what sort of person he was dealing with. She was interesting, he would give her that. But right now he wasn't interested in giving her much of anything beyond that. He was hungry, having sat in front of this meal for a while. He pulled his blade free of the table and got up, heading toward the door. "Enjoy yourr meal, Cap'n. I'll be eatin' with the crew if ya need somethin'..." the pirate lord then quickly departed, before Ceres could start off on any more of her stories. He was hungry, and no longer in the mood to wait around while a marine told him secrets that she should be keeping to herself. And to prevent further bothering, he slipped belowdecks to find where the rest of the men were eating. They'd thrown the day's rations into a pot and made a stew of it all. Not terribly appealing, but better than the poisoned grub the skipper was serving. He helped himself, while the sailors looked on, curious. He stared back until they minded their own business. Then happily joined them in a quiet dinner, eating ravenously, and occasionally jumping in the conversation. Clearly his presence confused the others, though. No one was quite sure how to treat the notorious captain in their midst. He wasn't in command, but his presence hadn't gotten that memo...

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

I'm not done. me and xigxig are still murdering the fuck out of bitches. pop pop pop, watchin' all the crazy winged people drop!