Wil Frozendagger - Washed Up, Washed Out, Down and Out
Aug 7, 2019 23:10:58 GMT
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Post by Wil Frozendagger on Aug 7, 2019 23:10:58 GMT
With any coastline, as the tide ebbs and flows, things wash up. Commonly it's flotsam and detritus, pieces of driftwood from clashes of man and nature a thousand miles and several years away. Sometimes it's bodies, normally fish or birds, in rarer cases a person, perhaps some hapless pirate whose luck had ended some day. It was a very rare occurrence indeed that any of these bodies would be intact, for the predators and scavengers of the seas are rarely off their food, so then it would be close to a miracle for a body to wash up still in possession of its soul, but the man was very much struggling with the idea at that moment.
He slowly peeled his wet body from the beach, sand clinging to his simple clothes and pale skin, and stood to his full height, which was rather impressive for a boy who often had to go without. He regarded the moon with turquoise eyes before looking out over to the ocean, undulating and empty to the horizon. Parents loved and left six feet under, fairweather tavern friends abandoned forever and a one-time crew cast asunder.
A lifetime lost, leagues away.
As the waves lapped at his feet, he felt an odd mass in his pocket. Brushing back long strands of black hair, he revealed what he supposed was a stick of coral, dark with a few branches. He could only suppose since he'd only heard of the substance in old books he could barely recall. He knew what this was, it had to be that, because that... thing did all this. He took it in his right hand, curled up his left into a fist, and tapped the stick against it with purpose. As he understood it there was method and mental preparation that was supposed to go into this but right now he was tired and desperate.
And he felt something. In his left hand lay a facsimile of a gold piece, which quickly dissapated.
A dream that was still gasping for air.
Still in a state of shock and deprived of energy, he failed to react as he would have liked. There were so many questions, so many uncertainties. He willed his spirit to take things slowly. One thing at a time.
Assured that the ocean held nothing more for him, he turned around and was met with a port town, completely alien to him and yet familiar enough. This would do.
Tonight, a tavern. Tomorrow, find fishing gear. He'd work the rest out later.
With a sigh of acceptance, he walked and took the first steps in his new life.
He slowly peeled his wet body from the beach, sand clinging to his simple clothes and pale skin, and stood to his full height, which was rather impressive for a boy who often had to go without. He regarded the moon with turquoise eyes before looking out over to the ocean, undulating and empty to the horizon. Parents loved and left six feet under, fairweather tavern friends abandoned forever and a one-time crew cast asunder.
A lifetime lost, leagues away.
As the waves lapped at his feet, he felt an odd mass in his pocket. Brushing back long strands of black hair, he revealed what he supposed was a stick of coral, dark with a few branches. He could only suppose since he'd only heard of the substance in old books he could barely recall. He knew what this was, it had to be that, because that... thing did all this. He took it in his right hand, curled up his left into a fist, and tapped the stick against it with purpose. As he understood it there was method and mental preparation that was supposed to go into this but right now he was tired and desperate.
And he felt something. In his left hand lay a facsimile of a gold piece, which quickly dissapated.
A dream that was still gasping for air.
Still in a state of shock and deprived of energy, he failed to react as he would have liked. There were so many questions, so many uncertainties. He willed his spirit to take things slowly. One thing at a time.
Assured that the ocean held nothing more for him, he turned around and was met with a port town, completely alien to him and yet familiar enough. This would do.
Tonight, a tavern. Tomorrow, find fishing gear. He'd work the rest out later.
With a sigh of acceptance, he walked and took the first steps in his new life.