Stavanger Bay the dead horse shanty
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
340 Posts
Ooc — Cactus
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#1
All Welcome 
@Arturo maybe?
The weather had started on a steady climb toward the warmth of late spring and early summer. While snow still lined many of the territories that rested inland, the bay seemed to have come to life with a passing night. The sands had begun to collect the small hints of warmth from the sun, fish had gathered courage to swim closer to the shore in search of bugs, and the foliage was starting to turn their small paradise into a lush setting. Even with the burst of good luck that they were receiving, Smokestep had still been forced to rid their land of Awinita’s body and offer her to the sharks of the black rock. They had lost one of the crew, and it had happened so close to their home. The pallid young Captain was still rather startled that it had occurred so quickly. She had only just started settling in.
 
On that day, he waded out so that the waters brushed against his chest as they rolled into the shore. The two tones of his gaze followed the distant horizon with interest before he made an effort to keep a watchful eye for signs of fish. Smokestep had been looking to gather enough to feed the crew on their first gathering. He had even scoured the woods in search for berries and herbs in hopes of making rum but had not found very many. Smokestep’s ears stood tall atop his crown as he watched a few fish draw near to him and then dart away.
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion
he's raised on the edge of the devil's backbone
630 Posts
Ooc — Phi
Master Guardian
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#2
<3!!!

though arturo is not unfamiliar with living near the ocean — in what felt like a different life these days this place was once a haunt of his — he still prefers woodland and tends to spend majority of his time in stavanger bay's forest. it's unfortunate given the nature of the pack he calls home but he manages despite the memories that the sands and sea bring to the forefront of is mind. once he would have looked back upon them with fond nostalgia but now they drudge up unpleasant memories and dark thoughts to mirror his feelings about them. it was the beach of stavanger bay that he first met chusi and remembering chusi how she was is painful given the rusted knives of betrayal and heartbreak she thrust into his back and heart and left there to corrode; which in turn brings up the memory of lotte's death. the day that arturo lost the best half of his heart; and what is left of the devil's heart is now wilted and grotesque — which is not a bad thing in the gangster's opinion. it's how arturo likes it. a tragic, albeit prophetic return to deconsecrated roots. he could pretend to be holy as he prayed to the alter of his goddess wife all he wanted but the truth is he will always be unholy and redemption is little more than a fool's dream.

as the fearghal monarch walks the shifting sands of the bay's shore he forces those unwanted and parasitic memories into the very back of his mind. he knows they will weed themselves out later but he is grateful to see the form of the young, pallid cairn ahead and focuses upon the captain to distract himself. the coywolf lets out a chuff to garner the leader's attention as he approaches, lowering tail, head and the proud set of his shoulders into a posture of respectful submission.
wreathed in iron and in fire
i bare my bloody teeth
and only pity makes my strike so clean
what would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
340 Posts
Ooc — Cactus
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#3
While it was true to say that Smokestep was a fiercely proud individual, it was not in his ability to have others cow before him. He was proud of the foundation he had built for his future, and for the culture he had shared with those within his crew. So, when Arturo bent his head and afforded the young Captain the acceptable display of his body, the pallid young pirate was quick to dismiss the need for rigid hierarchy with a quiet huff and an inviting smile.
 
“Ahoy mate,” he greeted the coywolf, allowing his dark lips to stretch so that the tips of his ivory canines glistened beneath the ink of his mouth. “How’ve ye settled in?” he then asked the former Witchdoctor. It was curious to think that the melanistic male had ever been part of the savage home Skellige had created on those same shores. Even more surprising was that he was willing to follow alongside the light-coated Smokestep in a new stead. Regardless of the curiosities, the young pirate was pleased that he had gathered such an impressive line of capable sea dogs.  
calling to join them the wretched and joyful
shaking the wings of their terrible youths
freshly disowned in some frozen devotion