"Hey! Uh - Cicada, wait!" Houston cried, leaping out of the cannon in Cicada's direction. He was going to apologize, although he probably shouldn't if he wanted to hold a pirateish reputation.
Cicada stopped in her tracks and turned around to face him, "Yes."
"Uhhh….. well, I don't know maybe you get the vibe I hate you? And I don't. Just, uh…sorry? I promise I don't hate you. Uh…yeah." He explained, sheepishly putting away the viola.
Cicada gave him a small smile, "You annoy me to death, but I don't think you hate me. If I thought that I would have left back at the island."
"Yeah. Thanks. And did you, perchance, flip over a table upstairs? I heard a bit of a clatter. A very loud clatter. In fact, an earsplitting clatter. Because my quarters are right below yours."
Cicada laughed nervously, "Um yeah. That happened. Sorry."
"I get headaches kinda easily. Actually, that's a terrible lie because I sit next to booming cannons all day. But. I'd rather you not." He shrugged and turned on his heel back downstairs.
Cicada sighed and pinched her nose. She walked back up to her deskside cabin.
Smiling to himself, Houston set down his guns. He had outsmarted Cicada for another day. That's right! Put on that cute, sweet guy facade and then blow up in her face. Well, not literally, but still. Not even bothering to untie his sash-belt thing, he plopped onto his bed face first and thought about tomorrow.
Then he started suffocating, so he turned himself around to look at the ship.
(Why does he need to outsmart her?)
Cicada moved her table back to it's proper position. She laid back on the bed before decided to set her hammock up out on the deck. She grabbed it and tied it to he main mast before attaching it to a smaller one. Cicada laid back and stared at the sky.
(He's just that sorta guy who has to prove himself to everyone. And also wants to have a good reputation, and wants to establish it early on.)
(Okay.)
(Can I make another character? Please? When it gets slow it'd be better to keep things flowing.)
(……………………Maybe…………………………)
(can I take that as a yes?)
(……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Make them and then I'll say yes or no.)
(okie, can I have another template?)
(Just make the character and then we'll see.)
(Use the same template.)
(I forget. Sorry.)
Name: Josiah Evans
Nicknames: Josie
Age: (16-100): 20
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He, His
Sexuality: Straight
Job on Ship: Mastman (blows and folds masts)
Preferred Crystal: Green
Kingdom of Origin: Jade
Appearance: Like so many from Jade, dark and stern. Has salt-and-pepper extremely cropped hair and round glasses, with yellowish eyes from not getting enough sleep. Hooked nose and thin lips, with a scar across his cheek. Lots of wrinkles and folds and a little stubble (but no trace of a mustache.)
Usual Outfit: Lots and lots of sweaters (usually midnight blue or deep green) and gray sweatpants, either goes barefoot or wears heavy shoes, usually just depends on whether he can find them or not
Weapons: His bare hands.
Personality: Very dark and unwilling to make friends, but good as that one messenger who's just there. Fends off people who try to get to know him very effectively. Throws a blanket of darkness into space or conversation, even when he's just sitting in a corner.
Meyer Briggs or Enneagram: ISTJ
Background: Was a soldier but got kicked down and yelled at one too many times, decided to join the guardians instead
One Fun Fact: Actually prefers the name Josie to his actual name.
(Yeah. You can have two. Anyone else want two?)
(Ship
i want to ship
Stat
Oh wait.
May I?)
(yay! thx so much!)
As everyone else was settling into bed, Josiah crept out of his. Searching with his feet, he sighed inwardly as he couldn't find his shoes again. Oh well, he'd navigated the ship barefoot almost a thousand times. (Yes, he was keeping count.) Unlike the other crewman who were down below the deck, Josiah silently flowed down the netting from his high post and let his feet carry him where they needed to be: Brooke's office.
It wasn't that Josiah liked Brooke. Oh, no. In fact, he disliked her almost as much as he disliked everyone else on this ship. If the ship didn't have crystals that had powers, he'd probably leave, actually. He just needed her maps so he could see the wind conditions so that he could man the masts so that he could keep them all alive. Well, mostly himself. But.
Creeping in her porthole (everything here was far too easy to crack, he'd found), he felt around in the dark for the crinkle of dry paper against his skin. And then, he found it. Balancing himself on the edge of the porthole, he began his nightly routine of navigating lines of ink simply with his finger, figuring out everything from a single stroke. He had done this so many times that tonight went quick, and then he was tying the scrolls back together again. As usual, they weren't in the same position as they were when he'd found them and the knots were wonky, but Brooke probably wouldn't remember. Or, perhaps she'd think that she had her very own poltergeist. Either way, it didn't matter.
Closing the porthole shut, he ascended once again to his post, pulling ropes this way and that so as to perfectly align the wind with the sails tonight. He had a bit of trouble with the far mast, but soon he was removing his sweaters and settling down again in bed. He wouldn't be woken until the next night - unless, of course, someone woke him before then, which would be unfortunate for them.
"Josiah, what are you doing?" Zoe called from her post above as she watched him tend the masts.
"Why are you still up, huh? I'm the mastman, and so I'm manning the masts. What are you doing, Medic?" Josie sneered down at her, about to sleep but woken up by this nuisance.
"And also, I'm trying to go to sleep, so please shut up and go do the same." Josie rolled his eyes and ducked back in his tower.
"Its my shift you idiot!" Zoe yelled back at him. "So yeah go do that."
"Gladly." Josiah turns up his nose and plops on the bed, spreading out on top of the sheets, sighing. Fingering his green crystal, so delicately carved into the shape of a mandala, he puts it on his nightstand and listens to Z trek along the deck, hating her for delivering such an unsavory bedtime song.
Zoe rolled her eyes before she sighed and leaned against the barrier.Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a soft green pillow,lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes. She hummed to herself as she enjoyed the starry night.
