Avatar of Spiritzer
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    1. Spiritzer 6 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
Current Spoilering life itself!
6 yrs ago
Totem animals are basically slang for "I like to be called and totally identify as a fox, but don't call me a furry!".
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6 yrs ago
I require better scheduling.
1 like
6 yrs ago
Time isn't anything without me.
6 yrs ago
Glucose deficiency, myostatin inefficiency. ...bit of vomit. I feel weird in this new circumstances. 😷.

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"Graves"

The seasick man said nothing when the captive paused for recognition, there was no way he would have heard of some seafaring pirate ...he did not even know the name of the elf who stood right beside him! It started with a 'G', ...Gon? ....Gwen? Gwenolia? He had heard Cicero yell it once. The only reason he knew Cicero Bladewalker's name is because he was a finalist in that gladiatorial fight and everyone would not shut up about it at the betting table.

...he looked at her again, trying to put a name to that pointy earred face. As she spoke, the elf's words made him pinch then release Cicero's nose again, harder - glaring angrily at the sleeping knight.

Wake up, you son of a-!


They could really use a third opinion right about now.

"Kill ...them?" He turned a scowl towards Dalious and grimaced, suspicious of his intent,

"They still saved us from drowning." Talking properly was exhausting what with the world spinning, but if it was going to stop them from making a big mistake then it was still worth it!

"We ...we're out here, treated, not locked up. If they ...wanted to harm us, they would-" He caught his breath, "...while asleep."

"Find truth first. Parley?"
He said towards her, wondering if this made more sense to elven ears.


Time was running short, in more ways than one, he could feel it. He looked around their surroundings, pausing every now and then. His watchful gaze fell onto their source of light. Lumbering over to one of the pillars on the farside corner, he began to unhook a lantern and twist the holdfasts out of the wood, keeping them and the slender metal pieces he could pry off the lanterns in his pocket.

"Why keep using words, Bite, bone, pu---nevermind ...how many ...of them?"

He asked of the imprisoned one, changing his original question to the same question she previously asked mid-sentence, it was not as urgent.

After three lanterns, he placed them on and nearby crate and sat back down on it's corner, huffing. Now realizing how hungry he was...

"I ...we talk first? If no work," His gaze met Dalius'. "Then." He casually pointed at him. "That." He looked at Gwyneira expectantly, it would only go through if she agreed. Then if she concured, only then, will he start climbing the stairwell to find someone to speak to.







But alas, my character can't mind read. :/.

@Cyrania
So who's up next?
I know that he is potentially our ally but I'm not going to metagame over here, hence the distrust and caution by a usually very careful character. :). even though just straight up trusting him and unlocking him immediately without any fanfare would be the optimal RPG gamer choice, it just isn't what a "Graves" would do.

Also, welp, looks like he has seasickness now. I wasn't expecting that, his initial giddiness was due to being injured but I guess playing along works just as well. Gonna add that to my character, I'mma do it later.
"Graves"

The big blue ...So they WERE at sea. Sod. That.

The thought of the vast ocean outside made him want to retch even more, but he held back - if not for 'saving face' then for the fact that he utterly disliked having his seasickness called out by some hoodlum.

"...You ...talk, too much. Too loudly. Liars talk ...too much." Consider it revenge.

But he said something of small worth at least, Cicero needed to be woken up. Still holding one hand over his own mouth in case anything came up, he dug into the pockets of his still hanging cloak - only to find nothing. Where were his bottles of chemicals?

He breathed slowly and closed his eyes, centering himself. This was slowly becoming a more stressful situation by the second. Being stressed right now was, undesirable.

Opening his eyes once he has paced his breath, he looked at his subject's face. He did not fancy the thought of smacking the knight awake like the captive said, it seemed needlessly violent and indignifying. But he knew ONE other medical way to wake someone up quickly. Reaching over and hovering his hand over Cicero's face, he pinched the knight's nose to induce a gag reflex that would normally jolt anyone wide awake. But only for 10 seconds at a time, suffocating Cicero was not part of his plan. He pressumed Gwyneira had already tried gentler methods of waking him up previously.

"Explain then. Where ...are my ...our stuff? Then maybe ....we unlock."

He asked the prisoner while holding on to Cicero's hammock to steady himself, they could hear him just fine from here. If Gwyneira wanted to walk close to the cage, he would stop her verbally with an abrupt ' "Don't!" ' and a knowing shake of the head. He knew far too well what could be done in the name of fReedom by the desperate, having a hostage would give him bargaining chips where he currently has none.





Right!

I'll write in reference to that.

So everything in the room looks just like in that pix, right? I've been using that as a reference.

"Graves"'s looking at the bars from his hamnock now, looking annoyed at the racket caused by whoever is in there.
So we were healed?
"Graves"


It took many long minutes of being rocked, tapped, shaked and maybe even a yell or two before he finally stirred to more than shifting his eyes behind closed eyelids. He was usually a very light sleeper.

Usually.

Willing himself awake after an immense amount of procrastination, dim candlelight stung his corneas like the sun would but only for a moment, his blurry vision landed on a certain silhouette of someone beside him at an odd angle. Who? The taste of salt still lingered in the corners of his teeth, it made him want to get up and spit but as his numb hands grasped the side of the hammock - his whole body ached. He felt like he had been slammed against many rocks in his sleep, was he even alive? ...and the queasiness ...oh the quesiness, his mouth bloated up but he managed to keep it down.

Was the place ...MOVING? He just stared at Gwyneira for a few long moments, it was an extremely awkward moment but he needed to focus on any non-moving part of her for a bit...and he felt the urge to throw up dissipate.

"W-where are......." His oddly greyish skin looked paper white as his mouth bloated up for a moment again, before deflating. "....I...?"

Now that she could see him without his hood on, their accquaintance looked even more sickly than she imagined when he had his hood on. But his physique was unusually strong and robust, albeit pale. His wild hair was pressed into a weird shape behind him by the hammock he slept on, growing into a greyish mane that ran down his back and girded his sideburns and chin in front - now so much longer as he clearly has not been groomed in days.

Runed earrings dug through deeply his left ear, radiating subtly with enchantment, without any seams or clasps they seemed ...unremovable. His fingers tried haphazardly to untangle hair that became stuck in them before he moved his head any further as he continued concentrating on her nose.

He hoped he had the tolerance to hold it back long enough to pass ...or that she had the reflexes to dodge it if it came.

His sullen eyes glanced behind her shoulder at the rattling racket which helped wake him up in the first place, squinting at the bars and the hands behind it...




Sure, no rush! :).
:) Totally.
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