Recap

[C H E Y E N N E]

Cenhelm frowned, but he nodded, grasping Ellsworth's hand with more force than necessary. "Extend the deal to my companion and you've got yourself a deal, all right?"

ooc;; *braindead*

bic;; Matthew relaxed. Hyacinth was safe, which was good, and it looked like she was going to be well looked-after.

ooc;; Define 'time-jump'?

[Alzella]

Ellsworth glanced briefly at the doctor up on the Crow’s Nest. He returned the unusually firm handshake, “Alright, deal.”

OOC: A jump through time itself!
Uhm~ I'm not sure (length wise). Should we just jump to when they've got the ship nearer to Spain and England, and Ellsworth is trying to throw everyone overboard (Leif, quite literally overboard)?
I'm not even sure a time jump would be appropriate for this rp...

[C H E Y E N N E]

ooc;; I dunno!

bic;; The torrent winds from earlier that day had died down, leaving only a gentle breeze in its place. The hull of the ex-Queen Mary was most likely creaking below, a silent and subtle reminder that they were on a ship, and not on the safe, comforting grounds of dry land. Instead, the water lapped soothingly at the wood of the ship itself, and Matthews could almost forget that he was almost intimately surrounded by that which he feared the most.
Almost.
Dragging his finger along the rough rope to his left, he wrapped his wrist around it, as if making sure nothing could tear him from the safety of the schooner and plunge him into the vast and unforgiving waters of Poseidon, the sea god from the old legends.
Cenhelm, who was sitting to his left, had long since drifted to sleep. His friend's unruly black hair tingled his face as the wind blew through it, for his friend lacked the eloquence to go inside when he was tired, instead deciding to use Matthews himself for a makeshift pillow. Really, he shouldn't be surprised, for some things never changed, even from childhood. Cenhelm was only thoughtful to some people, after all, and he was lucky enough to be one of those few.
Sometimes he thought his personality was a bit warped; like he could never decide on who he wanted to be or what he wanted to act like. It was almost equivalent to a different Matthews speaking each time. Not him, but some freakish part of him that could never decide.
Hyacinth had commented on that once: on his seemingly split personalities that had made their appearance soon after his return to port at seventeen. She had pressed the matter until he had snapped, eyes flashing as he cornered the girl, only ceasing his incessant shouting when he saw the look of fear in her eyes. She had left the matter alone after that, but sometimes he caught her studying him, as if he was some sort of freakish enigma.
He probably was.
Matthews startled as he felt a hand trail up his shoulder, lightly slipping the drab cloth down. He turned, eyes wide, to see Cenhelm frowning lightly, his eyes heavy with sleep, though somehow managing to contain a sharp glint.
The area Cenhelm was staring at still made him wince, even though the skin had long since healed and melded into a jagged white line that extended from his left collarbone and ending just before his left elbow. While it had healed years ago, the skin around it still looked angry and red compared to the white of the scar itself and the slightly tanned hue of his natural skin. It made Cenhelm shudder to look at, just as he was doing now.
Matthews suppressed the shiver that was his body's natural response to Cenhelm's hesitant and careful touch. The nineteen-year-old was currently tracing what he could see, his brow furrowed and knitted in pure thought.
"If I could heal it, I would. If I could make it go away, I would."
"I know," Matthews sighed, resting his head on Cenhelm's as the dark-haired youth sighed again, shifting his weight slightly as he pulled the shirt back in place, his hand vibrating almost painfully. Matthews looked at him curiously, only to find that Cenhelm's eyes had closed once again, and the Dagur heir had drifted off into a shallow but dreamless sleep.
More than anything, he wished he could do the same.

[Alzella]

Ellsworth stood at the helm, steering in no particular direction and trusting his gut instinct to tell him where to go. The vast rolling ocean became dull and far too consistent after awhile, and Ellsworth found himself letting his eyes wandering about the deck again.
Every so often, he worried either the Dagur or Doctor wouldn’t keep their end of the promise and try some sneak attack, but so far they’d kept their peace. For this, he was glad. Speaking of the two unwanted companions, Ellsworth found them idly napping. Well, the Dagur was napping and the Doctor clearly thinking.
His observant sea blue-green eyes caught the barest shifts in body language and motion as Dagur woke, checked Doctor, spoke, and slept. He idly wondered what that meant, but concluded it none of his business. The two would be gone (hopefully) by tomorrow afternoon. If not, he would have a pirate breathing down his next and an armada to fight off in one go. Ellsworth doubted very much he could accomplish such a task.

OOC: How about we decide after we've finished posting all the posts?