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[Rytiko]

Oren saw the knee flying like a rocket toward his chest, packed with all the deadly force it would need to break right through his sternum and damage internal organs. He quickly sidestepped the steely blow and, more to test the durability of Hector's body than for anything else, brought his katar slamming down into the leg that had just shot at him. It bounced right off, not even leaving a mark on his body.

"Ah... I won't be able to hurt you like that, will I?" said Oren aloud, keeping an eye on the steel man. He could already tell this match would end up a stalemate. Oren couldn't hurt Hector, and Hector's body was too bulky to achieve the speed necessary to hit Oren. If it came to a battle of attrition though, Oren knew he would lose...

[Queztatlapoca]

"Bloody 'ight you on't, now opolgize efore i'ave to split you in two" Hecktor spat back, with a notably more metallic voice. He started taking some slow methodical steps towards Oren.

[Kinewa]

The sound of smashing glass had attracted Angus's attention, and among others he turned to see the source of the commotion. A short but stocky man with bits of glass in his hair stood up from where he had been squatting against a wall. From his body language and tone of voice it was obvious that the guy was peeved, but Angus couldn't tell a single word that he was saying.

Slowly standing up yet again, Angus made is way to the fight scene. He nudged some onlookers out of the way just in time to see the shorter man drive a knee towards a slender man with a drawn blade. Although both men probably had some sort of advantageous mutations to keep them safe, Angus was not impressed. He yelled at the top of his voice, hoping it would be heard over the hum of the crowd.

"You think this is progress? Who's side are you on?!"

[Rytiko]

"Apologize? Huh," Oren began, "I'm not sorry. I never actually did anything, other than fail to understand your shouting. You're the one that did all the yelling and punching."

But Oren didn't really see what he could do against the steel body. Armor piercing weapon as it may be, it couldn't go through a body made entirely of steel. Even his bullets would bounce off... but maybe if he fought long enough, he'd find a weak point. With a smirk, Oren jumped into the air. It was the perfect temptation for Hector to try and hit Oren like a limp pinata. At the first sign of movement, however, Oren planned to deliver a well-aimed kick to the moving joint. It was only a theory, but maybe Hector was forced to de-metalicize joints with movement... Hopefully, because otherwise Oren probably would be a limp pinata, not to mention attract everybody on the boat that was looking for a fight when his body was slammed into the ship.

[Queztatlapoca]

"'Ogress? No, not t'all mate, but I 'appen 'o be on the 'ide o' people 'oo on't tro bott'os at mes." He said to the old man's question. Turning his attention back to Oren, he noticed Oren had leaped into the air. With a quizzical look, Hector took advantage of his opponents inability to dodge effectively and charged head first into Oren.

After years of street brawling, Hector had learned the hard way that tackling an airborne fellow was often, while simple, the easiest way of pinning them and ending a fight quick. And it just so happens that, muscle, in any sort of material, is still muscle, and could contract or extend with minimal effort on Hector's side.

[Kinewa]

Having seen enough, Angus left, his temper seething. Be damned if I have to risk my life with these fools, he thought to himself. He had sen mercenary groups split up, had observed haphazard militias crack under pressure, but never had he seen a fight break out so early in an expedition. It was pathetic. As he climbed to the deck, Angus passed by Cheryll, who was headed towards the source of the noise. She seemed calm, but Angus wondered if she felt that way on the inside.

Once on the deck, Angus was pleased to find he was practically alone, left only in the company of the scientist chap he had spoken to earlier. Confined to this blasted ship by the open sea, Angus knew that he would have to calm down and wait for them to reach the shore, but as soon as they landed he planned on leaving the group. If this was any example of how they would handle team work, he did not want to risk his neck with them.

[Ravenglass]

He watched the old man go back below without much interest, the old tended to serve as very poor research material, they broke too easily.

As he stood alone pondering on the deck, waiting for nightfall to approach so he could go see the young captain. “How long since I’ve had a woman?” he pondered to himself. He chided himself and remembered not to get the wrong idea. Just because she wanted to talk to him in her cabin didn’t mean she wanted to sleep with him. Still, an interesting list of possibilities ran through his head, each more entertaining than the last.

As he stood there thinking to himself he heard a loud smash from below, he turned his attention to where the noise had come from but decided against investigating, “it’s none of my accord” he thought to himself, besides if it was serious he was sure little miss immortal could handle it. There was a sound of shouting and shuffling he guessed a fight had broken out among one or more of his fellow passengers. He figured briefly on going down to the lower deck to see the fight, so he could see what they’re abilities were, if any, it might prove to be good research material. But just as he was about to go that old man from before came back up the ladder.  

Nusakan decided it would be a much more economical use of his time to simply ask the old man what was going on. “Sounds like the crew is having a rough disagreement down there, old man, what’s going on, is it a mutiny, or has this tub sprung a leak?” he asked after the old man had made his way up onto the deck.

[Rytiko]

Oren watched Hector's body carefully, looking for any kind of opening in his steel frame. 'Nothing... Damn,' he thought. The only way out was to put himself into even more of a predicament than he was already in and just hope that Hector was too slow to catch him. He thought about his options for what seemed like thirty or so seconds to Oren, but in reality only a small fraction of a second had passed. The decision was reached to go for the Hail Mary approach.

Utilizing his quick-moving muscles once more, he brought his legs out in front of him and propped them on Hector's broad chest, preparing to launch himself off into a back flip in order to distance himself from the steel juggernaut. Once he was back on his feet, he would either have to give up or keep looking for a weakness...

~~~

Cheryll rushed to the bottom of the ship at the sounds of yelling and the clash of steel. Already, a fight had exploded among the crew. She peeled through the ship, rushing as quickly as she could toward their origin with her rapier now drawn. She didn't want to have to put herself in the middle, but if the men were going to beat each other to death anyway, she'd rather them beat the one who couldn't die.

She ran into the room to see Hector and Oren in a full out brawl, Oren holding his blade and Hector completely covered in steel. Off to the side stood another member of the party, Ascerbus. Light was dancing around him madly, and his eyes gave the impression that he wanted in on the action. Cheryll was more worried about Ascerbus drawing blood than either Hector or Oren - the two of them would probably fight for hours without even touching each other. The shadow-clad assassin however was a completely different story...

[Queztatlapoca]

Getting ready for another attempt to hit Oren, Hector noticed a women had just come below deck. Forgetting about the fight entirely he turned to face her, shifted back to flesh, extended a rough, calloused hand out and chirped, "'Owdy miss, what 'rings 'ou below deck with us bunch of rapscallions?" "Oop nearly 'orgot mes self, people 'all me 'ector" He finished with a broad smile. But before she could shake his hand, if she was going to, Hector collapsed to one knee, grimaced, and coughed up some blood.

"Bloody ribs!" he cursed, "Could someon' see 'o 'em? Or least get mes 'ome painkillers..." Those were the last words he spoke before he passed out.

[virgil]

The light blade Acerbus had been preparing didn't quite vanish, but it certainly diminished. Who would have thought the metal man had manners...

He hoped this showing hadn't ruined his new comrade's perception of him, he hung to the corner for power, not from fear. He saw the woman's eyes flash to his for a second, and he hid them under his hair, exhaling all the excitement and shadow that had embued him. He looked up again, "Isn't there a doctor somewhere on this boat?"

He was glad it hadn't come to blows, he could only imagine with what grace he could have slipped behind the man and tested his meddle. Metal. He chuckled at himself, Oren was right, he was lofty.

[Rytiko]

"Hey, don't just walk away from me!" Oren shouted as Hector turned to Cheryll. Being completely ignored set him over the edge; he walked forward, dropping his katar and getting ready to beat his fleshy face to a pulp. Before he got that far though, Hector had started to cough up blood. He collapsed, complaining about his rib. Damn. Oren knew that he must have still caused some damage by kicking off his chest.

And now he was asking for painkillers. Oren had a lot of that, including some intravenous stuff, but his addiction clamped his mouth shut before he even began to make the offer. 'What if I run out?' he thought. Why should I give this guy peace when I can't have it?' It was in that moment that Oren saw the extent of his problem... would he really let a man lay in agony so he didn't deplete his stash?

The answer was yes. He would. Oren said nothing, but he did get on the ground to try and lift Hector onto a bed. With Cheryll's help, they got him up onto the bottom bunk of the nearest bedset. After, Cheryll began ranting about teamwork and trustworthiness... Oren wasn't listening. Thinking about the drugs made him want another pill, and he was going through his usual futile hesitance. Despite all of the fights he had won in his life, Oren had never won this fight with himself. The score now was 0 and God knows how many.

He shamelessly took a pill out of his pocket and popped it right in front of them all.

[Coma]

Hearing the boards above his head pound, Thirteen paused in his exercise. A steady rhythmic drumming as two combatants circled and attacked one another. Taking up a firmer grip on his weapon, the massive barbarian charged for the door. It took him some minutes to squeeze his huge frame through the passages back to the upper decks. By the time he'd arrived the fight was over. One man was calling for a doctor, and the other simply walked away. His bloodlust frustrated, Thirteen made his displeasure known. An unwary crew member caught the back of Thirteen's open hand across his face. The power of the hit lifted the man clean off the deck and threw his body like a rag doll. Thirteen strode off, feeling the eyes of the rest of the crew burning into his back.

Pushing past a pair of strange characters, the barbarian went to a spot along the gunwales where the sun shone through the snow. Thirteen dropped his bulk to the deck heavily. He leaned the powerful axe against the boards behind him and pulled a bread bag from under the bear-skin cloak. The meats within, with which Thirteen ate with relish, were of uncertain and unmentionable origins.

[Kinewa]

"Bloody fight." Angus replied, "I get the idea we're dealing with a load of amateurs here." He began to calm down as he stood next to the scientist, watching the orange clouds painted by the evening sky. "Sorry for leaving earlier. It was cold. Tell me, what brought you to joining this sorry bunch?"

Although he was hesitant earlier, Angus felt a burning desire to connect with someone - anyone on this ship who took this mission as seriously as he did. Sure, Miss Cheryll was obviously devoted, but he didn't want to get close to her. He had veered away from women for the past seven years, when the Cult murdered his second wife, Lauralyn. They had taken her and his three-year-old daughter while he was working in the fields. When he heard of the attack in town, he and the other workers ran to their aid, but it was too late. He watched as his family burned to death, staked to the front of their home.

After losing Laurie and Cecily, Angus fell into a blind rage, his power multiplying his strength as he massacred the Cult members who had invaded his town. By the time it was over, he passed out, waking to find his hair beginning to grey and his wrists sore with arthritis. He fell into a state of depression, lasting months before he left town, intent on avenging his loved ones.

Angus had lost his parents, his younger brother, two wives and four children to the Cult, and he knew now that he would never feel right about bringing more children into this world. Besides, The cruel nature of his powers had brought him premature age, and by now it was too late to start again.

[virgil]

Acerbus flitted away from the gathering of people left to watch the spectacle and potential of thier peers. At this point they all seemed to seperate into thier bundles of intrigue anyway. He of course being guilty of the same, as his conversation with Oren was the stage for this fiasco. Oddly enough everyone seemed to be opening now, Like easter lillies. He would have to remember to resume his conversation with Oren. Perhaps it was simply because it was his first step out of solitude, but he seemed to enjoy the company. The arc of light that was once a star sunk lower into the sea. Acerbus could feel the reach of his ability extend. He flashed up the bulwark. Leaping across to the mast and lunged from there to the prow of the ship. The ornamented steel tip under the actual deck, between this and the lip of the upper deck he rested, out of view, utterly. Here at his gargoyle perch he closed his eyes, and welcomed the impeding night. His eyes were hungry, a stalking lion, when he opened them again. He focused his power to the ship, felt it churn through the sickened waters. His power swallowed the entire stucture, using his body as the cataylst, the conduit, he forced it forward. The pace of the vessel picked up percieveabely. His hands reached up onto the lip of the deck above and he braced. He wasn't sure if he could endure this for the entire night, but it was a welcome attempt, after a day of feeling stifiled it certainly helped. A waft of salt enchanted him, he thought of the old world tales of sea siren's calling and he smiled. It was a broken attempt, it was a memory from home, the small collection of stories that were old even before the world ripped apart. He wondered if that little library still existed. His attempt at manipulating the boat fell short, as did his hands. He held them, focused threads of light through them, weaved it, pulled it. It was a stress ball and little else.

How long since he had slept last?

He wondered if his security on the boat was ill imagined. He was surrounded by implied allies, all powerful in thier own right, and no foot steps can creep up if your not even on land, but that too was the concern. If footsteps were falling in his direction, he would never hear them coming.

[Ravenglass]

“A document was delivered into my possession by a nice young man.” Nusakan said with a rectus smile “I decided to come because I thought it would be interesting research. I’ve always wanted to study the Plant Man, and this girl sounds like she could be a reasonable facsimile.” He studied the old man and decided to be pleasant for the time being “my name is Dr. Heroi Nusakan, most people just call me Nusakan, or doctor if they want to be formal.”
He remembered how all those people he used for research material had never gotten had never been able to call him more than just doctor, those that could speak by the end of it any way.
“so tell me good sir, by what title shall I refer to you?” Nusakan asked

[Kinewa]

"Call me Angus, not Sir. Calling me Sir is like putting an elevator in an outhouse," Angus replied. "Your name is Nasakun? Nessikan? I can't pronounce it. 'Doctor' works for me." He held out a hand for the doctor to shake. "I never read that letter, never even got a copy. I just got here by word of mouth. Geez it's cold!" Angus could feel the winds kicking up again. Fueled by the waning sunlight, they numbed the exposed skin of his face and hands. Even beneath his leather jacket he could feel his arms prickle into goosebumps.

[Rytiko]

OOC: I figure it's time to end the boat scene. It was essentially my tool to figure out the types of bonds that will be formed between the characters. I think we've established that, and I don't want to do much else on the boat. Any type of sea attack pretty much guarantees all of our deaths, because the sea creatures in this world are enormous and are, without doubt, more than capable of destroying the ship in a second. That in mind, the best option now is a time skip.

Any character development or relationship development you want to have ellaborated upon by/with another player, feel free to discuss this through PMs. I'm always happy to be surprised by players' collaboration. Ahoy!

Oren sat atop the crow's nest on the fifth evening, watching the icy waters around the ship with what can only be described as boredom. The days had become routine: Wake up, eat, drink, and maybe talk to the kid. The nights were even more routine - every evening, he had his shift in the crow's nest for an hour. After watching nothing for an hour, he would head to dinner and then lay motionless in bed for hours before finally drifting off to sleep. He was trying his hardest not to get back into the habit of pushing himself to a daily pass-out. Addicted as he was, he knew that he would have to think clearly once they hit land.

Land. If only. All Oren saw were icebergs... but then, there was something that seemed too large to be an iceberg. Upon closer examination though, maybe not - it was just a very large cluster of icebergs. And they were headed straight for it for some reason. Watching for a moment longer, Oren saw why. The moving horizon opened the view like theater drapes to reveal a giant landmass behind the cluster of icy spikes.

He shouted down to Cheryll, "Hey! I see land, but there's no path to it! How are we getting through here?" Before she answered though, Oren had the feelitng suspicion that there was no intention of this ship making it through in one piece. Damn. It was about to get very cold...

[Ravenglass]

Nusakan was bored. Bored, bored, bored! Even that lovely dinner he had had with that nice young lady a few nights back did really yield anything of interest. She asked way too many questions about his past. Questions he hadn’t liked having to answer. Oh he didn’t think she actually knew who he was, she probably would’ve killed him, or at least tried to, had she actually known the truth about him. Still that at least would’ve been interesting, but now everything had become routine, and he wanted new research material, parts of his days were spent shooting the breeze with Angus the old man was interesting and had some intriguing stories, but Nusakan still didn’t consider right for research material.
Nusakan was perched on the foredeck watching the waves pass by and the icebergs come and go, then he saw what looked like a very large cluster of icebergs coming up as the horizon came closer the big spikes moved but from his vantage point he couldn’t see why they weren’t turning. Suddenly from above he heard that Oren fellow shout "Hey! I see land, but there's no path to it! How are we getting through here?" Nusakan shivered “well it looks like I’m going to have to keep this boat together” he muttered to himself. He slowly made his way over to the captain at the helm, he went up to the young lady  and said, if I had known we were going to go swimming Cherryl I would’ve packed my inner tube.” He remarked with a smile. “finally” he thought to himself “things are getting interesting”

[virgil]

"Land." A smile even broke his lips. Land and shadows. A smile was definitely prescribed. He dashed up the lower deck steps emerging as a shark from the sea, hanging in the air for a moment for perching lightly on a railing as his landing. He would get to stretch his legs again it seemed. A shredded landscape of ice spires and glacial waste was percieved by Acerbus as a playground. He thought of years past, on some mission where a cut throat wasn't the end result, perhaps recon or protection, and feeling happy as the girth of night wrapped 'round him like a corset, his legs reacted to every surface, hard earth acted like springboard, each step was enhanced with the grace of the shadows, his strength even improved as his body was blending with the dying light, like blood and silver milking in and out before the plunger goes down in a fateful syringe long ago. Perhaps the lighting was not as beneficial as it had been in his recollection, but his pensive stint had at least prepared him for some travel. He yearned for the nearly automatic righting of his body over hellish terrain. The landscape reminded him of something he had read of the old world in his library back home, a journey through hell. The center of the pit being frozen over by the wings of the beast and never burning. "Only a man who runs from light could smile in the face of hell," he thought. He noticed other passengers allready up and emerging, seeing some of them with that same anxious look in thier eyes. It was excitement. Acerbus suddenly retreated back to his thoughts and wanted to know where some of these others had once been to welcome the coming gauntlet. A crew of masochist and all with weapons, how had they survived this long?

[Kinewa]

Angus had not been one of the first to see land, but the general hum-drum in the atmosphere caught his attention. He climbed above deck slowly, his bones aching from prolonged exposure to the cold, and squinted at the bright sunlight glancing off of the ice. Letting out a puff of frozen breath, he grinned at the sight. For the past few days, he had been contemplating his actions once they reached shore, and he believed that his budding friendship with Doc affected his decision. For the time being, Angus planned on staying with the group, doing his part to strengthen them for the times ahead.

Since the fight, Angus's opinion of the mission in general had been especially low, but the lengthy trip brought many of the men together, and he observed as their friendships strengthened. He began to feel hope for them all, but he still held back, knowing that too much hope could kill a man with the following disappointment.