Forgotten Freedom:51
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Satnak - Hey volrath miss me?
Volrath - Geh! Crazy lady.
Satnak - I'll take that as a yes and spare your existance. Now back to the ship we have work to do.
Volrath - What do mean we?
Satnak - Ok I mean I yell at everyone and they fix things out of fear.
Volrath - Ok now that makes sense. Hi terra
Terra - She's agitated today isn't she.
Lisa - We are still missing slip and sa'vor. Thats usually a bad thing.
Jarlot - CRAP
Sakura - WOW :blink: She's strong.
Tifa - YOu get used to it.
Aerith - speak for your self she makes me nervous, though that has something to do with the great bloody spike about an inch from my face!!
Ignoring the majority of the conversation satnak carries the whole lot of them back on board.
Satnak - Ok people just thought I should mention if we don't get back to eberron by the time kithle's vacation is over he's gonna be ******. The giant gaping hole in the sky won't help his temper, and if slip and Sa'vor are still MIA he's gonna make the day of mourning look like a picnic.
Lucky: I wonder if something is going on upstairs. Haven't seen any redshirts for a while now.
Erk: *grunt, grumble*
Suddenly a demon breaks through the door of the bar. He is immediately gunned down by Han Jarlot.
Jarlot turns back to his table, where a bandoleer-wearing Erk, a fame boy, and an old man in a hooded robe sit.
Han Jarlot: You’ve never heard of the Forgotten Freedom?
Old Man: Should I have?
Han Jarlot: It’s the starjammer that made the Qesemet run in less than 12 days.
Things have begun to wind down after the excitement of yesterday. Volrath, Doog (or Dooj), and many of the redshirts are missing or dead. On the upside, I have found the Bar! I am unsure of the name, as is everyone, and apparently there is a contest to see who can come up with the best name. I put my vote in for the "River Styx", because odds are, if you drink any one of the more powerful drinks, you will die of alcohol poisoning.
A strange girl has joined the crew, calling herself Sakura. She claims to be the captain's daughter. He doesn't deny it, but I think it highly unlikely that something so beautiful could come from him. Although I must say, it is possible that she is Aerith's daughter. Sakura seems to have the same irreprehesible jubilence and she has the most irregular aura I've ever seen. It's... So captivating. My heart is in tatters when I am away from her light and yet, instantly it mends when I catch but the smallest glimpse of her, the wisp of her perfume.
Jarlot's comment, slurred by the influence of heavy drink, was that children were like weapons. He continued on at some length as to how you could forge them all you wanted, but what happened after they left the anvil was all someone else's fault. This leads me to believe that the captain's base state is that of raving drunk.
Aside from that incident, Jarlot has had a wave of sanity, which I hope lasts. Generally, the saner he is the calmer the crew is. Also, many of the Uber class are off dealing with their own issues, so many of the lesser crew can actually take a rest. In fact, only thirty-four redshirts have died in the last twenty-four hours, that I am aware of. It's nearly a thirty percent drop!
Ah, but I can never take my mind off of sweet Sakura for long. I have descretely asked around for anyone skilled in the arts of love, and was pointed towords a young man named Devon, with much sniggering. He suggested poetry, and began to read some of his. I can see why someone could like it, but I can also see why it would cause a fox to chew through it's own heart in an effort escape the sonic torture. I managed to get away with minimal injury to my eardrums. I had to visit to Mickey, the ship's doctor, who simply hands out alcohol. I'd always figured that was what made people go to him, but upon further inspection it appears to have some curative properties. My ears are healing nicely now, but I suppose one must suffer for love.
I asked Mickey what he used in his potions; his reply was "Scrat". I was bemused and felt it necessary to inquire as what "scrat" was. His reply was to shrug his shoulders and say that it is Norbaz's specialty. Upon further investigation, I discovered that "Scrat" is what you get when you distill rats for eight-to-ten years. Apparently, the crew are not the most decerning customers where alcohol is concerned.
The other good news is that I have made my first friend amongst the other redshirts. He is a young lad, eager for adventure and full of ginger! His name is Thomas Pun, and was actually educated at Arcanix, my alma mater! His is immensely well spoken and has some very interesting ideas about the nature of magic. While he looks rather dark and brooding at first, once he starts talking he becomes far more animated, with occasional spittle making him look rather rabid.
Alas! I cannot get Sakura out of my head! Perhaps unrequited love is nobler?
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