The Harbinger of Ferocity — Roleplayer Guild

Mark Tybalt

Each more-loose-than-it-should-be hiking boot climbed its way toward the sky above, step by step they drew their owner into the ongoing wind - one that proved to be of some irritation and minor inconvenience to those above deck. It wasn't the voices that had awoken the owner of the boots, nor were they the reason for each step closer to deck; certainly not hostile, not rushed, just plodding at their own pace, as if they had nowhere to be. Given both they and the owner were aboard a ship at sea, such was a more obvious truth.

Each response wasn't a clear exchange among the others aboard the boat, not that the sea was roiling and rampant, or anything of the sort, but that the listener was awakened from his slumber. What stirred him was perhaps just the inability to sleep for any extended period where he didn't feel entirely safe, or perhaps it was just a timely coincidence. Mark Tybalt didn't believe so much in the latter... all the travel of the past few days to get this far, to this lonely ship among students, that was where his fatigue had set in.

Rubbing his eyes with his palms, keeping his balance with little ease despite not having a true sense of self amidst the sea - certainly no sailor at any point in his life - Mark sighed slightly, removing them from his face and replacing his large, dark aviator glasses. Settling them on his face, he noted a small gathering of students. From what he gathered, they were the same that had boarded the craft initially - none had disappeared... yet.

The company before him - Mason, Kana and Casper - seemed to be actively engaged in lively conversation, with the girl bundling her hair in a tie before tossing it casually over her shoulder reminding Mark to fix his hat; taking it in his hands, he approached close enough, but at an angle to view over the railing. He said nothing, not willing at the moment to intrude upon the three. At least not now.

Crimping his hat firmly, returning the curve to the bill, he glanced over casually as the taller of the two boys spoke about the ocean.

Yeah... in a way it is a good reminder.

Fitting the cap over his closely cut, squared hair, he thought, pausing only to watch the speaker nudge the smaller student a bit. Given the angle of the vessel? Mark rationalized it probably was.

"I figure it would be." He remarked, looking out to the water and the distant island beyond. 

This wasn't - none of this from the moment he learned of what he really could do up until now - was what he expected, not in the slightest. When he heard "secluded island", Mark really heard "isolated prison", or so he wanted to believe. Maybe his expectations were off? He had spoke with counselors of sorts on their opinions. Certainly their opinions of were jaded, that Mark didn't doubt, but this didn't appear to be the cage he imagined himself being stuffed into for what he was - at least not yet.

These kids seemed, well... pretty happy, excited even.

Mark idled for a moment having been lost in drifting thoughts as to what his "cage" would be on this island, remembering only later that he probably should introduce who he was at least.

"I'm Mark, by the way."
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