Candlelight: The dead man, and the naked girl

[Daniel Sage]

( OOC: Open to NPCs and one-off cameos, as this is the chronicle of the last day of an Airship.)

Death. I suppose I should have seen it coming. Being an archmage mystic, seeing things coming is part of the job. Of course I had other things on my mind that day.
What with the magestorm. The airship battle. And the naked enchantress.

Not that I am looking for an excuse. One never apologizes for being enchanted by Priya. You just kiss her feet and thank her afterwards, even as she is stabbing you in the back. Such is her control over men and women both.

Of course, now that I have lost everything, including the ability to look forward, all I can do is look back, over and over again, and wonder if there was a moment when I could have done something differently.

[Naminé15]

He had a good a appearance, natural gifts for music, ando of course, belonged to such a rich family that any “ordinary man” who approached him would feel inferior. The business he should heir from father, the large shop known The Shop founded by his great-grandfather, was successful and had always allowed him to live as a spoiled brat in luxury.

Aquilla Parma, that was his name, of course, nothing famous since he was just rich, not a celebrity. Only the locals from the small town where The Shop was located knew about him, his eccentric ways and large parties he would often hold.

But it seems, recently, annoyed as most teenagers are with parents’ repression, he’s decided to travel to somewhere far away. Pretending to be just another citizen, he went on board the ship heading a location he didn’t know for sure. He just wanted to be free from his responsibilities and duties, and now, he was.

Stepping in the ship, he sighed with relief, for once he would know how a “normal” lives.


((OOC: this is the thread about that doomed airship, right? The first didn't describe no one in the airship, so I was like "is this REALLY the right thread?" ))

[amenities]

It was quiet in his room, the waves sloshing about just outside his door. The sound of a faucet just barely running was the only noise that filled his ears. Really, though, there was a stream of water running through the crack beneath his door and soaking the carpet just above which his bare feet hung. There was no specific water level yet, just a thoroughly ruined carpet and a horrified child.

“Mo-Mommy!” He cried out in between exasperated, panicked sobs. His mother and father had always been neglectful. Even Thomas, who was only nine years old, knew that.Still, though, he would never have imagined that his parents could grasp their fingers about the comfort of safety and leave him locked in their room three levels below deck. Did they expect him to make it? Almost certainly not.

“We’re just going to get some dinner for us and you, Tommy. Don’t worry sweetheart. “ A smile that was supposed to be comforting parted, giving way to those words. That smile was one Thomas had imitated thousands of times before, though. He saw her fear and his father’s emotionless, cold gaze as they each slipped from the room and left him doomed to their backs and the noise of a lock clicking into place.

Anger had been uncommon to Tom for most of his life. He was much more familiar with fear of the hand splayed before him, or the distinct rise of a parent’s chest as they prepared to shriek commands or scold. Something akin to anger took hold of him at that moment, though. It was not anger, though, no. Thomas was cast bodily into the throes of utter fury with the thought of his abandonment. He was just a normal boy. What the fuck did they think he was going to do?

He ran to the door, thrusting his weight into it and bringing balled up fists crashing against its surface for what seemed like hours. Surely it had only been five minutes, though. The water pooling about his ankles rose menacingly, a predator indiscriminate of its prey rising to engulf him hungrily.

He turned his back on the door, falling that distance between them and sliding to a sitting position with a splash. Burying his face in his hands, Thomas Brandau wept for every moment he knew he would never experience.