Under the sea!

♛

Words: 207 |@tagged | Notes: 458/3000

ulla

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

To his ears, the whispers of the sea was something far more than the superficial; the ramble of sailors and calls of the birds overhead composed but the minor portion of the grander picture; and though he didn't seem to be the type to be drawn to it, he found himself falling deeper and deeper into a trance the more he eyed the blue horizon -the swordsman could only ever assume that the song of the sea had more than just simple allure to him in particular.

He'd breathe in, albeit uneasily as he paced the ship deck with restless expressions. The rear end of his skull was pumping with the prelude to a migraine, and despite his efforts to steady himself, the urge to open up was gnawing at him desperately. What was it with the waters, especially the salty ones, that had him so...afloat, and not so much himself anymore? It's as if he was more likely to get drunk on a rum-less ship so long as it was sailing consistently over those antique pubs that he liked so much.

"Ugh...why is this even..." he groaned, weaving through the lively ship deck with heavy steps.

Terith caught a breath in his throat as he waddled himself awkwardly to a familiar face -Summer, as he knew her from their previous encounters. He pulled his hood down a tad as the sun shone down intensely at his figure, almost as if it was mocking him. The woman in question was conversing with a man whom he didn't really recognize, though they seemed strangely well acquainted.

"Um..." he began, his lips stuttering as he tried to string words together properly despite his state, "...Who might this be, Summer?"

In his head, he so badly wanted to push the question further, perhaps her relationship with him and what he was doing there. But the blonde opted to not meddle with his conflicting thoughts and proceeded to see things for their surface value, as of then, at least, which was simply a man he had not yet met and nothing too complicated to wrap his mind around.

Hopefully.

Words: 392 | @tagged | WC: 1205/3000

ulla

drip drip drip away.

♛

Words: 376 |@tagged | Notes: 1581/300, Sir is Julius xD

ulla

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

As far as his human knowledge stretched, there were some things that needlessly puzzled him, though he wasn't sure if everything under that category was the least bit interesting. That particular moment, however, confused him so much to the point of wonder, a fine brow arching into his temple as he watched the blonde pirate mumble into Summer's ear. His curiosity was obviously piqued as he leaned in just a bit, somehow appearing much too dazed to worry about the trivial things such as his awkward posture on a consistently rocking boat. Terith's queries seemed to have been answered in full by the woman before him, however, in the most surprising verbal way.

"What's this...about a boyfriend?" he'd ask, tilting his head to the side a tad. Whether it was from his stupified state or a legit manifest of his confusion, he wasn't sure. In his lightheaded state, Terith somehow failed to fully grasp the implication of Summer's decision to mask her face with her hands, where her blush only seemed to further distress him for the wrong reasons. Was there someone who fit that description in Summer's circle of friends? He instinctively frowned at the passing thought.

"Why're you turning red Summer? Is it too hot?" he dotted, again, his brow furrowing in worry. The swordsman opted to reach for the knot at his shoulder that bound his hood to his person, but was later taken aback by a rush of realization that the material might be smelling of sweat and musk -which was, in his head, not a very pleasant thing to have on you. So, it was decidedly not a very good option. Terith let his hand slide back down to his side as a result.

Then, the man who upheld himself with an impressive set of pirate garb spoke up, introducing him in the most outgoing way that it somewhat caught the swordsman off-guard, but he nonetheless returned a smile at the inviting aura he gave off.

"It's nice to meet you, Julius." he said, the dizzy lisp on his words slowly disappearing, "Just...call me Torian. I'm just a wondering swordsman as of late, nothing too special."

The captain of the vessel managed to swivel his way into the conversation, and with his words that marked their approach of their designated destination, Julius too, took that opportunity to explain the entire context of their deed that day. Going over his words, Terith offered the pirate a nod, submitting to the terms without much inquiry.

"All clear sir." he said, unconsciously imitating Summer's choice of honorific.

words: 298 | @tagged | WC: 2308/3000

ulla

drip drip drip away.

♛

Words: 383 |@tagged | Notes: 2691/3000

ulla

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

Needless to say, the entire conversation as it was started with him at an unease. Some part of him was initially, somewhat, alarmed and at the same intrigued by the discussion of a boyfriend, much less the emphasis of a piece of clothing with the word 'mighty' as the primary description -was it a suit of armor or sorts? Terith hadn't the slightest clue. What was clear though was the sudden, if not unexplained wash of relief that overcame him as per Summer's indication that no, there wasn't anyone who was at that position and frankly, it seemed to quell any sort of restlessness he harbored earlier.

Until he'd been approached by Julius, who decided that it was best to refer to him as 'Tori', a perfect reminiscent of what his spirits use to pick at him. Scratch that, his unease earlier today was probably just the surface of what comes after. Terith felt a sudden, alarming pressure at the base of his chin, coaxing him to return the blonde pirate's brazen stare. The action seemed to stir not only his attention (his eyes widening to an extent from the shock), but it was almost enough to drag his reclusive, bickering side -the one part of his personality that he desperately wanted to keep under tabs, lest he accidentally blow a fuse in sheer embarrassment. Instinctively, his hand fell to the sword beneath his belt, almost as if a form of comfort for the ensuing awkwardness.

Julius would go on to mention his current lifestyle and how he holds with weapon with an interesting tone of voice, edging another finger unto his lips, something that visibly took him aback, if not question how legal was it to do that in public. He was obliged to furrow his brow a little, somewhat unable to decipher the implication, up to the point where the voice of a familiarly sadistic sword spirit intervened in between his mulling.

Big mistake. He'd have accidentally edged the blade out of the sheathe a little bit, allowing the spirit to voice his thoughts.

'It's a dick joke.' Yasusada huffed, as if it were a no-brainer for the the century-old blade. 'You're so slow Teri-boy, no wonder ladies aren't content.'

All at once, the rush of confused looks became an onslaught of a steady blush that was frustration and embarrassment fusing into one, big, blotch of red. His eyes, if they hand't been wide earlier, would only open more.

'E-EEEEEEEEEEEEEH?!'

Terith could feel his left eye twitch, for many reasons, but he knew that it was because something threatened to slip out of his lips. Instead, he opted to shakily approach a nearby barrel once Julius retracted his finger from Terith's lips, trying his best to appear casual, only to release a stifled internal scream that came out as a long and worn-out sigh.

"I wasn't prepared for this..." he mumbled, his voice breaking a bit as he gulped to reassure himself that perhaps it was only a passing interest, perhaps. He couldn't be the least bit bothered...right?

'At least you're popular with the guys, amirite?'

'S-shut up!'

A shine of something metallic suddenly caught the corner of his eye, prompting him to look that way where everyone seemed to be directing their vision to. From a portion of the sea rose a strange box, although it seemed to be slowly descending again. Somewhere among his brief moments of awe, however, was the attack of strange...fishes with generous spikes as their teeth. They honestly reminded him of piranhas, albeit a little bit more ugly-looking. The crew, who were all fairly burly men, opted to kick and swat away the sea creatures with whatever they had at hand. At his disposal, however, was a rather apt supply of spectral swords that he had no trouble flinging at the fishes who had the gall to overstep their boundaries, and Terith could almost feel the smile on Masamune's face as his presence briefly crossed the Chronicle. A tug at his weapon caused Kushinada to be fully brandished, immediately sending a pile of ghost swords to pierce through a group of scattered snake-heads, five at best, slapping at the floorboards with their fins as soon as the swords sliced through their soft bodies.

Terith would later end their little stunts with an unconcerned face as he took the chance to cast the Hirazuki, ushering Hijikita Toushiro into dominion over the Chronicle as he did so. The Shinsengumi captain grumpily scoffed at the usage of his technique for making sushi, but nonetheless gave his vessel the needed specifics, albeit with a sour face. The tip of his blade seamlessly rolled through the fishy flesh as soon as Kushinada was thrust forward, almost like a hot knife to butter. After resorting to use the Hirazuki at least three times over, he'd been left with a decent pile of fresh fish slices, although some were still wiggling to an extent.

Then, he'd catch a girlish scream from behind him, and as he turned his head to find out the source, Terith didn't quite expect himself to approach Summer in mild panic, almost as if he was driven by pure instinct.

"Are you okay?" he asked, deftly flinging Kushinada's blade backward as to swat a leaping snake-head back into the water. 'Of course she'd be fine, idiot. She can manage herself without your aimless yapping.' Terith thought, his face stiffening as he realized how belittling that may have sounded. Yet he felt that he still felt the urge to ask, in case he needed to cast his Eiko.

Stats n' stuff:

Words 331 | @tagged | Word count: 3954/3000

ulla

drip drip drip away.

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

"...That's great then." he said, scratching at a cheek that began to turn warm beneath his touch.

Perhaps it was the salt in the air, or the persistent sway of the boat, or anything, really - the swordsman was at a loss at where to place the fault for the lull that the ocean currently had on him, acting like a strong tug to his lips that made him say the things he wouldn't normally say, given his personality. As far as his memory took him, nothing in the blonde's youth ever implied the first signs to this strange condition, and the swordsman was hardly the type to exhibit motion sickness.

Terith Blair was, at, best, simply someone normal enough to go unnoticed, without much of a peculiarity as much as he lacked a specialty. But doubt was a strangely cruel thing as it pooled in his guts, perhaps deeper than the depths they were currently pursuing. The further his migraine grew, the easier it was to speak, and after so much frustration on his part, the swordsman had little say on how specifically daring he was to bare his inner most thoughts as bluntly as he could.

And that little moment, where his heart appeared to have sunk downward into his gut at the sight of Summer's fall, almost appeared to be just enough a reason for him to consider drowning himself, dive headlong into the teeth-infested waters maybe. He was never a good man when it came to the speed of his reaction to the more sudden things, and a girl toppling over unto him was hardly anything he'd expect, much less prepare for. And due to his lack of skill in the art of catching falling girls in general, it was no surprise that his legs crumbled along with hers, tangled in an ungraceful loop of limbs and stutters and all the blood rushing to their faces.

Terith tilted his head a tad, unable to look her back in the eye, almost as if the situation brought a stigma that made him unable to face her without babbling something he shouldn't, "Ah...I....um....I....d-don't...."

As if dictated by instinct, the swordsman bit at a lip idly, mumbling 'I don't think I mind, honestly....' with a breathless tone, but as hushed as he could manage, in fear that Summer would hear it - he wasn't sure what drove him to admit such an outrageous thing, but it hardly felt wrong for him then, so there was little complaint. The reason, however, completely escaped him, given his little-headedness that pushed all of the important details out of his realm of thinking.

He shook his head, as if realizing his focus only just a second later and prompting a shift in his body, implying that yes, they really did need to get out of that inconvenient position. "Y-yeah..." he said, enough for only her to register the sound of his voice, "It's...fine....I'm sure it was an accident...."

Of course, there was no saying whether or not it was considering how dulled out his senses were in comparison to his norm. Perhaps he'd never know. Not that he minded not knowing, anyway.

words: 418 | @tagged | Word count: 5203/3000

ulla

drip drip drip away.

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

Tipsy, perhaps, was bordering the right term for the state of his head and everything that followed suit, but it was also hadn't the nicest ring to it if he considered the adjective with poorly wired thoughts. His consumption of alcohol prior to their voyage to the seas was anything but unreal -his hand hadn't held even the measliest amount of shots, nothing but sweat between his fingers and neither the soothe nor the comfort of cold ice melting through the glass was there to confirm that the swordsman took in anything mildly intoxicating.

Though his circumstance then, with a woman atop his person, almost instantly pulled him into a daze that was unexpectedly in place of his usual, guttural protests. He'd have never managed to put up face with that sort of thing if he had been in his right mind, wherein even the solitary fact that he admitted that it was kinda nice was beyond his character -was it charm? Or another unexplained phenomena that he had yet to unearth? Whatever it was, Terith hadn't the slightest clue, nor even the tiniest hint of will to find out for himself.

The blonde simply settled. This was all very nice.

And yet, Summer pried herself from him at a second's worth, and the spell that wrung him a breath close to uncharacteristic honesty is seemingly dispersed, like dust to the winds, and somewhere between the hazy removal of whatever he was drunk was the steady return of his normality. His breathing is back and his head is clear and ohgod - did he really just say that he didn't mind that? Did he really just-

"...!"

If at first it seemed trivial for him, his recollection of the last few minutes were dire, and it was he was no less in a fluster at the harsh, unforgiving reality that came with his realization. The swordsman rolled over a tad, sitting upright as the ship tilted one way, and swayed over to the next, his figure tracing the ship's movement as if the shock was enough to render Terith as unresponsive as a vegetable.

"...Just...what...?"

Voices sputtered about behind him, noises that were familiar but were barely registered with his sincerely preoccupied state. Even going as far as staying stagnant regardless of Julius asking them of their conditions and proposing that they tend to injured crew members....perhaps he really has lost it, his sanity kaput. Terith only ever gave the two a cheap excuse for a nod as he waddled away in his self-destructive thoughts.

Then, a larger, much more pronounced wave coursed beneath the vessel, rocking it to and fro to the beat of a monstrous sea creature rising from the depths; an octopus, nonetheless, not looking the slightest bit pleased as it glared daggers into Julius' figure, several large tentacles wiggling about rapidly, almost in rage, if one were intelligent enough to understand sea creatures. Relating it to how the events proceeded, Terith concluded, albeit absentmindedly, that the octopus surfaced because of many a reasons, where a certain blonde pirate became the primary suspect for how things out turned the way they were.

Bah. This entire thing - done, he was incredibly and outstandingly done.

There was a sound, something resembling an uncanny brandish of a weapon with a sharp, metal blade. Personally, there was so little to concern himself over now, he just desperately wanted this to the end it deserves and withdraw, give himself time to chill, purge the will to unearth his more natural personality...or just generally find space to breath, deeply since the little venture was more than suffocating; it practically had him drowning.

Terith pressed a tight scowl to his jaw, the murder in his eyes breathing malice into his actions as he took stance, edging one heel into the floorboards as he aptly readied a spell, scavenging the available options until his magic automatically narrowed one rotation for him to execute. The search through his Chronicle had never been cumbersome to an extent where he found trouble which to cast. It was as if perhaps the Etherblade responded to his urges with but a click and a clack and a buzz of blue ectoplasmic energy, or at least, that's what it looked like on face value alone.

From a small corner of his vision, the swordsman picked up a reminiscent of energetic sparks (most likely Summer's handiwork) exploding off the octopus' torso, amassing a ripe and gargled screech from the overgrown mollusk, one that didn't seem to imply anything good. Instinctively, he raised the spirit of Souji Okita into dominion, where the imprint who had jade emblems for eyes leaned back in satisfaction. There was not much to be exchanged, for Souji's mutuality with Terith expanded far beyond words describe. Instead, the two proceeded to succumb to the familiar drawl of energy between their connections - Terith beginning the first few seconds to the Sandanzuki with a brazen stare and Souji finding it right to bask in his nostalgia.

Opportunities were swift as they came, so he was prompted to make the most of it. The swordsman rattled down the ship deck with rapid intensity, his vital sword arm thrusting Kushinada forward, where specks of blue fizzled over his form as he dug his weapon into the monster's slippery flesh. He'd tilt the sharp end down the creature's ensemble of arms, generating the first cut to run down a good length of the octopus' left, which garnered a reaction that was none-the-pleasant as the pain multiplied with the splitting of the first gash, ink pouring out in buckets. The Sandanzuki was improbably liable to cause bleeding with hardly any exceptions, hence the octopus succumbing to the effect with little mercy. The gigantic thing flailed about, its tentacles curling before stretching out to grab Terith whole, turn him into blonde Sashimi, if it were possible, judging by the way the beast screamed bloody murder at his person.

The swordsman curled his leg behind the other as a precaution as he speedily beckoned for Kushinada to answer him, just as a weapon, before casting the Tejun posthaste, with little time to finish a single inhale. His body would later be swallowed by a phase of bright blue, scattering into particles before appearing ten meters up into the air, where Kushinada's Glyph of Gust stamped its emblem into the skin beneath his left eye, breathing wind into his steps. The escape was narrow, he'd admit, where a few heartbeats late would've costed him his life, and a slimy, watery grave. Instead, he appeared somewhat triumphant in his attempt, now hovering listlessly over the ship at a good ten meters above.

"...Tsk. Persistent little f*cker." he muttered, a curious little thing that slipped, which was as close as he could get to the rougher side of his personality.

Stats n' Stuff:

Words: 510 | @tagged | Word count: 7.464/3.000

ulla

drip drip drip away.