Open Chronicles devil & deep blue

[Hinterland]

The cool air tosses pale, unkept hair as the tall figure crosses over the damp sand. Dusk had come too quickly for Zodiac's liking. It had only been in passing, that he'd heard of this wreck. It was old, weathered and growing barnacles from it's crumbling wooden hull.

Dressed in common, loose cloth and sporting no visible weapons or armor, the lanky man would look to any at a glance like a curious villager, poking around the wreck now that the tide had gone out.

Zodiac feels along the rotting hunk of driftwood with trailing fingers, scanning the curved planks for weaknesses, holes. He wanted to look inside. As often as he had seen ships in the past, he wanted to see what it was like within one. That'd normally mean forcing or sneaking his way on a docked vessel... so this seemed a much easier way to sate his curiosity.

 

[Bishop]

Bishop prowled, padded footsteps marched, with nothing but a light impression to mark his step. The frozen air stung his lungs, corrupting the peaceful blanket of dusk. The receding shore made fit to allow a stranded wreck to remain on the beach, its obtuse bow sticking so desperately into the sky. Upon the bow was a wooden mermaid, chained and battered. It was a rotten parody of the Kivren. Bishop scowled. No human shall lord it over the kin of Kiva.

Skirting along the outside of the bow, he came face-to-face with his brother. Zodiac was early, obviously piqued by some feature of the ship. That’s what Bishop hated: Zodiac’s endless curiosity. His brother seemed to be analysing the woodwork with great scrutiny, poring over the insignificant details and holes for some purpose. There’s obviously nothing in that rot of a wreck, Bishop rationalised. Still, he was dragged in by Zodiac’s tracing of that curved bow, Bishop’s eyes were stuck to his brother’s scanning hand.

He spotted a weak point, to the right of where Zodiac had searched. He could tell the patch of wood was weak, for there were no barnacles upon it.

In the wordlessness, the world momentarily forgotten, he did not dare to speak and break his brother’s concentration. There was a scratch in his throat that Bishop smoothed with a clear of his throat. His voice came out raspy and deep.

“Here.”

Bishop motioned to the left of him.

 

[Zodiac]

There wasn't anything on Zodiac's pallid features that suggested he'd even noticed his brother's arrival. Bishop wasn't a surprise to see, the Kivren just expected he would be somewhere close by. Now he was just visible.

Tracing palm slides to a stop on the gnarled, damp surface a Bishop politely clears his throat. Blue gaze flicks, finally, to his sibling's face in questioning and minor irritation. Why had he interrupted? What was so important- ah.

With a nod of recognition, Zodiac sidles several step to center himself before the indicated spot. With a sudden crunch, he plows a hole through the crumbling wood with his fist. Withdrawing his hand gingerly to avoid splinters, Zodiac stoops to peer through the opening, a frustrated huff parting from his lips as he realised it was too dark to see anything.

"Help me open this up." He utters, beginning to tug and snap at the rotting wood around the hole. In true Zodiac fashion, the request was more of a demand and it appeared he was hell-bent on satisfying his interest regardless of Bishop's help.

 

[Bishop]

The hole blew upon, spraying wood chips and dust into the ship. The wet planks bent and crumbled, providing an opening into the dark crevice. His brother obviously required his help, he moved over to assist before the words left Zodiac’s lips. Positioning himself to the right of Zodiac, he slammed his foot into the wood with a crack. Feeling the leeway, Bishop stomped again against the bow, leveraging his height to provide more power. He continued until he had crushed the wood in a flurry of precise kicks. Bishop’s didn’t have the same upper-body strength as Zodiac, at least in his humanoid form.

Their combined efforts seemed to have provided an open path into the vessel.

However, Bishop was ill-prepared for the dark interior of the ship. He hadn’t seen Zodiac bogged down by a torch. The ship’s interior might contain a candle or oil lamp. Bishop was never the headstrong one of the duo, so he gestured forward, offering a nod. He appreciated the efficacy of their conversation. No waste of breath.

 

[Zodiac]

The wood crumbles beneath his grip, cracking and groaning as they shred the weakened hull. The scent of stale saltwater and wet seaweed washed out to meet him, dust floating in the weak beams of early sunlight.

Noting his brother's motion, Zodiac is hardly tentative. He sticks his head inside first, holding the edge of the splintery hole they had created. His gangly body follows, feeling the wet sand beneath his bare feet. So it was partially flooded, huh?

Not sure if it was worth dousing himself and having to bear the painful shift to his natural form, Zodiac turns back to peer at Bishop.

"Avoid the water for now." He grunts. He could hear where it was, if the soft rush and trickle was any indication.

Padding over the sand and damp wood, Zodiac felt along the hull for anything interesting. Palms brush over the rungs of a ladder, and he tests it with a firm push. It gives way with a snap. Zodiac frowns into the gloom, still slightly lit by the poor sunlight filtering in, and feels for the edge the ladder had been attatched to.

"I'm checking the top." he calls toward his company, and heaves himself upwards with a burst of strength. It was much darker now, and the planks groan beneath his bare feet... buy they hold. Zodi exhales softly, privately relieved.

"I need to find the cabins. They leave things in places like this." They being humans.

 

[Bishop]

The orders were received and promptly noted. Bishop examined his surroundings with a focussed eye, finding no reprieve from the choking darkness. Placing his boot firmly in the dark, Bishop cringed, pulling back immediately. Beneath him, the breached hull trickled softly, sprouting icy tendrils over the sand beneath. Fuelled by the damp wood, the inside-cold was oppressive. To the Monowai, proud Kivren of the Waiau, anything but the utter extremes is chilling.

Bishop responded to Zodiac’s decision with a curt grunt. Bishop hence must surely check the bottom of the craft. They will pawn whatever they find. Humans will trade exorbitant amounts for the smallest of trinkets. His maw twisted, agape, into some poor reflection of a human grin.

Bishop’s eyes rapidly adapted to the newfound gloom, and after nearly a minute of tight concentration, Bishop could trace the sagging lines of the room. Past the ladder lay a door, hanging barely to its hinges. The goal. Bishop proceeded to the dilapidated door, towards the end of the room.

Navigating a path free of splinters and seawater, Bishop reached the door and tried to open it. Feeling resistance, he pushed harder, tearing it off of its hinges. Bishop scowled. He hadn’t intended to use that much strength. He felt an itch on the inside of his hand. A single splinter, drove through his index finger.

He only felt the pain after he ripped it out with his teeth.

 

[Zodiac]

The pale creature doesn't need Bishop's acknowledgement, but it was a comfort all the same. He could hear his brother shuffling below as he stepped lightly across the groaning planks.

It was pitch dark in there, and as he pressed on several feet into the angled wreck, the light from their forced entry was fading. Zodiac strains to see in the gloom, stepping through a doorway that forced him to duck. The door swung softly as he touched it, joining the soft lap of waves and distant cry of gulls.

A crunch and snap of breaking wood from directly below made the man jump. Faintly, he could smell blood.

"Careful." He calls with a frown. "Don't bring this thing down on me." Bishop was an adult, and considering there was no sounds of a scuffle, Zodi figured his companion had just cut himself on something.

As he grew more accustomed to the room, he spied a table against the wall, with an assortment of things stacked upon it. Humans collected so many odd items and comforts, and it never ceased to amaze him.

Moving closer, the pale man began to peruse the objects. An empty bottle, a damp scroll. Some ink and a mildewy drape of cloth. The closed book in the center drew his focus, tugging it open to a page bookmarked with a piece of leather.

The writing was illegible to Zodiac, who had no experience with language other than spoken Kivren and human. He squints at the mess of symbols, trying to make sense of them but failing. There were images too, but without knowing what the words said, he couldn't figure out what the simple diagrams depicted.

"Bishop." He called, "There's something here."