Nox Noctis Mille Luna
1
The smell of smoke filled my nose as I laid my head to rest against the pain glass window, the cold rain on the other side of it, was like a blur pounding down as things moved by. I always loved traveling, it’s a must. ”To see the world, is what a young man like you needs to do.” My grandfather always said. He used to tell me stories of his youth in the military, hopping a plane to god know where for the weekend. And it’s also the reason that I am half Japanese, the other half of my family history is English, French, German, and Russian. But that’s beside the point. There comes a point when you find a place that you just want to call your home. That’s what happened to me. That’s possibly why I sold everything I had except for some DVD’s, my laptop, my camera, some clothes, and am on this train right now.
“Next stop New Orleans,” A voice says over an intercom.
New Orleans, I’ve been here many times but this is not my final destination. It’s actually the Virgin Islands. The only reason I’m in New Orleans is to get to my new home. The S.S. Nox Noctis Mille Luna, The Night of a Thousand Moons, is such a fitting name for a 100 foot luxury yacht. All I know is this, I sold everything I have. I paid two million for it, and I’ve been on it once. I’m 22 years old and I’ve already retired. It’s funny what can happen when you suddenly end up, wining a 238 million dollar jack pot on your 18th birthday.
“Mr. Douglas?” a man wearing a pair of white linen pants and shirt said as I carried a knapsack on my shoulder. And walked over to him.
“That I am,” I answered extending my hand. “And you are?”
“Excuse me. My manners need to be improved.” The man said griping my hand firmly. “I am Hans, the first mate. I was hired by Captain Rodgers as was the rest of the crew as your orders. Two deckhands and a cook. But what strikes me as odd is that you requested the deck hands to be Ex Navy Seals?”
“I’ve traveled the world in my 22 years,” I said. “I have seen what it is like and the comfort of knowing that there are people around me that know what they are doing is assuring.”
A Black Limo was waiting outside the station, I’ve got money, and I am not taking a cab to the harbor. I sat back in the leather seat of the limo, and just drifted on as the drive took forever. A small speed boat was waiting at the marina, for me. The dingy some would call it, but a boat with a V8 engine is not a dingy in my book.
“Welcome aboard sir,” the captain said as he helped me hop from the dingy to the boat itself. “It’s a pleasure to work for you Mr. Douglas.”
“Stop right there,” I said putting my hand up. “Don’t call me Mr. Douglas. Call me Jack, please.”
“Okay Jack,” the captain said. “Feel free to call me Captain, or whatever you like. It’s your boat and you’re paying me, 75k a year to do what I do best, and seeing as I was paid for five years in advance. You can call me Mary Sue for all I care.”
“I’ll pass on that,” I said. “You don’t mind me calling you Tim do you?”
“Not at all sir,” Tim said, as two well built men came over and saluted me.
”I’ll take it you two are my deck hands?” I laughed. “This is not the military boys. You don’t have to be so formal. I wanted the best for a reason. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I hope you are prepared for the worst.”
“Ex Navy Seals and Licensed Mercenary’s,” One of them said. “We know what can happen, you’re in good hands.”
Both of them as I could see had a side arm strapped to their hip form what I could tell was a USP MK23 as did I, but that’s just a personal precaution of mine. A .45 semi-auto Colt M1911. But if anything was to happen, there is a nice trove of guns on board. One reason I am glad to have gotten a Class 3 Gun Collectors License. H&K MP5SD1, 12 gauge pump action shot gun, and a Styer Scout Sniper Rifle. One can only image ever having to use a gun on another person. I’m more of a sports man when it comes to it.
The plotted course for the first week or so is rather simple, from New Orleans to Key West and then from there to the Virgin Islands. After that I have to look at my maps and decide where I want to go. “As soon as you can get going do so.”
I walked along the deck of the boat, it was kind of wet, because of the rain but it’s finally stopped, so everything is wet, the deck chairs, and it was just miserable top side. Down below is why I bought this thing it’s like a floating bachelors pad. Black Leather sofas, a big screen TV, Satellite Uplink internet TV and Phone service, a very nice stereo system, and a small set of gym equipment.
“Monsieur Douglas?” A man with a heavy French accent said as he emerged from the galley. “I am Pierre, I took care to stock everything you asked for.” He motioned to a small wooden bar sitting in a corner. “Absolute, Amstel light, Bacardi 151, Bacardi Gold, Bombay Sapphire, Everclear, Grey Goose, Jack Daniels, Jägermeister, Jose Cuervo, Hennessey VS, Malibu Coconut Rum, Seagram’s 7, and an assortment of Red and White Wines.”
“Pierre,” I said looking over the selection of alcohol in the shelves. “You do this Alcoholic proud. What of the mixers?”
“As you requested,” Pierre said opening a small bar fridge. “7up, cheery juice, ginger ale, grenadine syrup, mountain dew, orange juice, and olive juice, as you requested, there is also a blend of mixers for daiquiris and margaritas.”
“Pierre I like you better by the minute,” I laughed as I stood back up, I could hear the engines roaring to life, as Hans walked down into the boat.
“We’re headed for the keys right now,” Hans said as he walked over to look at a map on the wall. “We should be there by morning. Everything is running smoothly, and the skies seem to be clearing up. The maiden voyage of the Nox Noctis Mille Luna is set for smooth sailing.”
“That’s good I yawned. I had eaten dinner on the train and was getting sleepy, so I stretched out a bit as I turned and walked to the stairs to where the lower deck was. “I’ll be in my room taking a nap. If anything happens just wake me up.”
“Will do sir,” Hans said. “I’ll be in the control cabin if you need me.”
I looked out the window of my personal quarters on the port side of the ship, the sun was just starting to set, and the lights of the city were illuminating the night sky. The last time I saw something like this was when I was 15, out on my grandfathers sail boat with my girlfriend at the time. I will never forget that night. Because that night was the night I lost my virginity. A night I try to forget, but can never seem to push completely out of my mind.
My cabin itself is not that extravagant as one would be lead to believe. An oak desk sits against a wall, beside the door, an oak dresser, with my clothes in it, an LCD TV mounted to the wall in front of the bed, the door leading to a small bathroom and a queen size bed. All simply decorated in a deep rich brown color, with hints of a light blue scattered about.
“Next stop New Orleans,” A voice says over an intercom.
New Orleans, I’ve been here many times but this is not my final destination. It’s actually the Virgin Islands. The only reason I’m in New Orleans is to get to my new home. The S.S. Nox Noctis Mille Luna, The Night of a Thousand Moons, is such a fitting name for a 100 foot luxury yacht. All I know is this, I sold everything I have. I paid two million for it, and I’ve been on it once. I’m 22 years old and I’ve already retired. It’s funny what can happen when you suddenly end up, wining a 238 million dollar jack pot on your 18th birthday.
“Mr. Douglas?” a man wearing a pair of white linen pants and shirt said as I carried a knapsack on my shoulder. And walked over to him.
“That I am,” I answered extending my hand. “And you are?”
“Excuse me. My manners need to be improved.” The man said griping my hand firmly. “I am Hans, the first mate. I was hired by Captain Rodgers as was the rest of the crew as your orders. Two deckhands and a cook. But what strikes me as odd is that you requested the deck hands to be Ex Navy Seals?”
“I’ve traveled the world in my 22 years,” I said. “I have seen what it is like and the comfort of knowing that there are people around me that know what they are doing is assuring.”
A Black Limo was waiting outside the station, I’ve got money, and I am not taking a cab to the harbor. I sat back in the leather seat of the limo, and just drifted on as the drive took forever. A small speed boat was waiting at the marina, for me. The dingy some would call it, but a boat with a V8 engine is not a dingy in my book.
“Welcome aboard sir,” the captain said as he helped me hop from the dingy to the boat itself. “It’s a pleasure to work for you Mr. Douglas.”
“Stop right there,” I said putting my hand up. “Don’t call me Mr. Douglas. Call me Jack, please.”
“Okay Jack,” the captain said. “Feel free to call me Captain, or whatever you like. It’s your boat and you’re paying me, 75k a year to do what I do best, and seeing as I was paid for five years in advance. You can call me Mary Sue for all I care.”
“I’ll pass on that,” I said. “You don’t mind me calling you Tim do you?”
“Not at all sir,” Tim said, as two well built men came over and saluted me.
”I’ll take it you two are my deck hands?” I laughed. “This is not the military boys. You don’t have to be so formal. I wanted the best for a reason. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I hope you are prepared for the worst.”
“Ex Navy Seals and Licensed Mercenary’s,” One of them said. “We know what can happen, you’re in good hands.”
Both of them as I could see had a side arm strapped to their hip form what I could tell was a USP MK23 as did I, but that’s just a personal precaution of mine. A .45 semi-auto Colt M1911. But if anything was to happen, there is a nice trove of guns on board. One reason I am glad to have gotten a Class 3 Gun Collectors License. H&K MP5SD1, 12 gauge pump action shot gun, and a Styer Scout Sniper Rifle. One can only image ever having to use a gun on another person. I’m more of a sports man when it comes to it.
The plotted course for the first week or so is rather simple, from New Orleans to Key West and then from there to the Virgin Islands. After that I have to look at my maps and decide where I want to go. “As soon as you can get going do so.”
I walked along the deck of the boat, it was kind of wet, because of the rain but it’s finally stopped, so everything is wet, the deck chairs, and it was just miserable top side. Down below is why I bought this thing it’s like a floating bachelors pad. Black Leather sofas, a big screen TV, Satellite Uplink internet TV and Phone service, a very nice stereo system, and a small set of gym equipment.
“Monsieur Douglas?” A man with a heavy French accent said as he emerged from the galley. “I am Pierre, I took care to stock everything you asked for.” He motioned to a small wooden bar sitting in a corner. “Absolute, Amstel light, Bacardi 151, Bacardi Gold, Bombay Sapphire, Everclear, Grey Goose, Jack Daniels, Jägermeister, Jose Cuervo, Hennessey VS, Malibu Coconut Rum, Seagram’s 7, and an assortment of Red and White Wines.”
“Pierre,” I said looking over the selection of alcohol in the shelves. “You do this Alcoholic proud. What of the mixers?”
“As you requested,” Pierre said opening a small bar fridge. “7up, cheery juice, ginger ale, grenadine syrup, mountain dew, orange juice, and olive juice, as you requested, there is also a blend of mixers for daiquiris and margaritas.”
“Pierre I like you better by the minute,” I laughed as I stood back up, I could hear the engines roaring to life, as Hans walked down into the boat.
“We’re headed for the keys right now,” Hans said as he walked over to look at a map on the wall. “We should be there by morning. Everything is running smoothly, and the skies seem to be clearing up. The maiden voyage of the Nox Noctis Mille Luna is set for smooth sailing.”
“That’s good I yawned. I had eaten dinner on the train and was getting sleepy, so I stretched out a bit as I turned and walked to the stairs to where the lower deck was. “I’ll be in my room taking a nap. If anything happens just wake me up.”
“Will do sir,” Hans said. “I’ll be in the control cabin if you need me.”
I looked out the window of my personal quarters on the port side of the ship, the sun was just starting to set, and the lights of the city were illuminating the night sky. The last time I saw something like this was when I was 15, out on my grandfathers sail boat with my girlfriend at the time. I will never forget that night. Because that night was the night I lost my virginity. A night I try to forget, but can never seem to push completely out of my mind.
My cabin itself is not that extravagant as one would be lead to believe. An oak desk sits against a wall, beside the door, an oak dresser, with my clothes in it, an LCD TV mounted to the wall in front of the bed, the door leading to a small bathroom and a queen size bed. All simply decorated in a deep rich brown color, with hints of a light blue scattered about.
0
Is there gonna be more?
This was a very nice and interesting read.
I can't say much about it's bad points cause I just can't seem to see any.
I like it, it seems creative (As far as I know), it's detailed, and is very good overall.
Keep it up, and +rep for the good amount of effort put into it~
This was a very nice and interesting read.
I can't say much about it's bad points cause I just can't seem to see any.
I like it, it seems creative (As far as I know), it's detailed, and is very good overall.
Keep it up, and +rep for the good amount of effort put into it~
0
Blank_Zai wrote...
Is there gonna be more?This was a very nice and interesting read.
I can't say much about it's bad points cause I just can't seem to see any.
I like it, it seems creative (As far as I know), it's detailed, and is very good overall.
Keep it up, and +rep for the good amount of effort put into it~
Yes
That's good I'm using Word 2007 so I have auto grammar checking so no more your for you"re or there for their
I plan on it, staying that way.
0
My dreams that night invaded by thoughts of pirates in the days of yore. What it was like traveling the seven seas in search of new worlds. Not knowing if you would find anything, or anyone, fears of sea monsters, and the likes.
When I awoke the sun was rising in the east the boat was docked at a marina, and the GPS Clock said it was about 6:30 in the morning local time. I changed out of my bed clothes into a pair of linen pants and a linen button up shirt. Lightweight and comfortable, yet stylish at the same time. “Let’s see it was about 10:30 pm local time when I went to bed, that would be eight hours but factoring in its local time 6:30 here would be 5:30 there. So seven hours of sleep.” I can normally works with 6 hours of sleep so not getting 8 is not a problem.
When I emerged from my cabin and up to the main interior deck of the ship I could smell what was being cooked for breakfast in the galley with an overtone of Pierre singing an old children’s song my grand dad would always sing to me when I was younger. Frère Jacques.
“Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez vous? Dormez vous? Sonnez les matines, Sonnez les matines, Din, din, don! Din, din, don!” I instinctively started singing.
“Ah Monsieur Douglas,” Pierre said as he walked out of the galley. “I did not know you knew the song Frère Jacques. You have a beautiful singing voice.”
“Thank you Pierre, I said graciously. “My grandfather would sing it to me when I was younger, though I am more partial to Au clair de la lune.” I don’t know what has taken over me, but I was in a mood to sing songs from my youth for no reason at all, I began to sing a song from my youth. “Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l'amour de Dieu. Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit: Je n'ai pas de plume, je suis dans mon lit. Va chez la voisine, je crois qu'elle y est. Car dans sa cuisine, on bat le briquette. Au clair de la lune, l'aimable Lubin. Frappe chez la brune, qui répond soudain. Qui frapp' de la sorte, il dit à son tour. Ouvrez votre porte, au dieu de l'amour. Au clair de la lune, on n'y voit qu'un peu. On chercha la plume, on chercha du feu. En cherchant d' la sorte, je n' sais c' qu'on trouva. Mais je sais qu' la porte, sur eux se ferma.”
“De toute beauté seulement beau,” Pierre said wiping a tear from his eye, as he turned and went back to the kitchen. “Breakfast is served.”
The spread of food was simple yet perfect to my taste. Crusaunts, with a variety of jams and jellies, crispy bacon, a bacon, cheese, ham, mushroom, onion, and sausage omelet, fresh orange juice, and coffee. Each bite was better than the last. I don’t know how long it had been since I have had food this good. I ravished the meal as if I had not eaten in weeks. All I could manage to say was, “Good.”
“I’m glad you like my cooking,” Pierre said as he gathered the dishes up. You are not allergic to anything I should know about are you?”
“As far as I know nothing,” I said, honestly. “Though to be honest with you, I do have a dislike for asparagus and lima beans, other than that I’ll eat anything.”
“I’ll take note of that,” Pierre said. As he walked back into the galley.
I took my leave from the table and started to pace the interior of the yacht, before I decided to emerge topside. The sun was now starting to shine low in the eastern sky. The sun worshipers would soon be out if not already on the beaches. From what I could tell the marina was only half filled with boats, and a few yachts were among them. Though the one I was standing on was right at the edge for its sheer size. I could see a small market, about half a mile down the beach, from the marina. I went back inside to grab my wallet, and left a note, with my satellite phones number if anything were to happen. I took my chance to get some fresh air and a quick stroll along the beach, to view the beauty, of the landscape and among other things, as I would be lying if I said I could count all the scantily clad beauties soaking up the sun’s rays.
As I reached the market I was assaulted by anything and everything, fresh fruit, books movies, music, clothing, a true bazaar, of sorts. All I could find myself wanting to do was dig through the boxes of used books to see what I could find, everything was either sun bleached or weathered from the salt water, but that’s what makes a used book a good book, how weathered it is, means it’s seen some travels, and different times. I ended up buying an old beat up copy of treasure island for two bucks and then wandered about to see what else I could find. When I bumped into Pierre.
“Hello,” I said as I stopped to look at a fruit stand. “Anything good?”
“Everything is good mon,” the man tending the stand said. “Fresh limes, Jamaican bananas, mangos, coconuts.”
“A Good Key lime pie does sound nice for dessert,” I mused. “How much are the limes?”
“Two dozen for 3 bucks,” The man said.
“And the bananas?” I asked inquisitively.
“Fifty cents a pound,” the man said not missing a beat.
“Well Pierre,” I began.
“Key lime pie and homemade banana ice cream?” Pierre finished for me. “They all do look good.”
“Five pounds of bananas, two dozen limes, and a coconut,” I said as I fished out my wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change; I have no need for it.”
“May god bless you sir,” the man said as he put the money into a box and weighed out five pounds of bananas, and handed me a sack with everything inside of it.
“I was heading to the local seafood market,” Pierre said. “Maybe you would like to come and help find tonight’s dinner?”
I followed Pierre to the fish market, for a look to see what could be found. The assaulting smell of fish was nothing compared to the variety of everything you could find. Shrimp, Mahi-Mahi, tuna, lobsters, crabs, crayfish, it ceased to amaze me. But a nice sized Grouper caught my eye. The sign said it was a good 10Kg, of which I would speculate 8-9Kg of it edible. Anyway you look at it; it’s what caught my eye as the catch of the day for dinner. And 50 bucks is not a bad price, to pay for a fish that was freshly caught naught 5-6 hours ago. Wrapped in paper packed with dry ice and wrapped again, Pierre took the fish and I carried my shopping all back to the boat.
When we returned Hands was sitting on the deck with a cup of coffee, watching as Joe and Mason were having a contest to see who could do the most pushups. Hans was the judge I presume, and apparently they were in the triple digits. I just watched as they kept going, struggling and them opening my mouth. “Whoever last the longest gets fifty bucks, cash right here right now.”
“You’re going down Joe,” Mason laughed a few seconds after my proclamation.
“In your dreams,” Joe said. “I’m not a pansy ass like you.”
“Such ferocity,” I laughed. ”I like.” They stayed at it another good twenty minutes, throwing banter the other to give up. I could tell they were at their limits. As both of them went up at the same time for one last final heave and crashed down at the same time. I waited a few seconds before I fished out two twenties and two fives before giving it to each of them. “Neither of you outlasted the other. You split it.”
“Twenty five is better than none,” Joe said as he rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position.
I plugged my ear buds from my iPod in and sat down into a deck chair and started reading. †˜Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17— and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow Inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre-cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.’ I’ve read these lines so many times I could possibly speak them by heart if I had to. This is just one story that never gets old to me.
When I awoke the sun was rising in the east the boat was docked at a marina, and the GPS Clock said it was about 6:30 in the morning local time. I changed out of my bed clothes into a pair of linen pants and a linen button up shirt. Lightweight and comfortable, yet stylish at the same time. “Let’s see it was about 10:30 pm local time when I went to bed, that would be eight hours but factoring in its local time 6:30 here would be 5:30 there. So seven hours of sleep.” I can normally works with 6 hours of sleep so not getting 8 is not a problem.
When I emerged from my cabin and up to the main interior deck of the ship I could smell what was being cooked for breakfast in the galley with an overtone of Pierre singing an old children’s song my grand dad would always sing to me when I was younger. Frère Jacques.
“Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez vous? Dormez vous? Sonnez les matines, Sonnez les matines, Din, din, don! Din, din, don!” I instinctively started singing.
“Ah Monsieur Douglas,” Pierre said as he walked out of the galley. “I did not know you knew the song Frère Jacques. You have a beautiful singing voice.”
“Thank you Pierre, I said graciously. “My grandfather would sing it to me when I was younger, though I am more partial to Au clair de la lune.” I don’t know what has taken over me, but I was in a mood to sing songs from my youth for no reason at all, I began to sing a song from my youth. “Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume, pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l'amour de Dieu. Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit: Je n'ai pas de plume, je suis dans mon lit. Va chez la voisine, je crois qu'elle y est. Car dans sa cuisine, on bat le briquette. Au clair de la lune, l'aimable Lubin. Frappe chez la brune, qui répond soudain. Qui frapp' de la sorte, il dit à son tour. Ouvrez votre porte, au dieu de l'amour. Au clair de la lune, on n'y voit qu'un peu. On chercha la plume, on chercha du feu. En cherchant d' la sorte, je n' sais c' qu'on trouva. Mais je sais qu' la porte, sur eux se ferma.”
“De toute beauté seulement beau,” Pierre said wiping a tear from his eye, as he turned and went back to the kitchen. “Breakfast is served.”
The spread of food was simple yet perfect to my taste. Crusaunts, with a variety of jams and jellies, crispy bacon, a bacon, cheese, ham, mushroom, onion, and sausage omelet, fresh orange juice, and coffee. Each bite was better than the last. I don’t know how long it had been since I have had food this good. I ravished the meal as if I had not eaten in weeks. All I could manage to say was, “Good.”
“I’m glad you like my cooking,” Pierre said as he gathered the dishes up. You are not allergic to anything I should know about are you?”
“As far as I know nothing,” I said, honestly. “Though to be honest with you, I do have a dislike for asparagus and lima beans, other than that I’ll eat anything.”
“I’ll take note of that,” Pierre said. As he walked back into the galley.
I took my leave from the table and started to pace the interior of the yacht, before I decided to emerge topside. The sun was now starting to shine low in the eastern sky. The sun worshipers would soon be out if not already on the beaches. From what I could tell the marina was only half filled with boats, and a few yachts were among them. Though the one I was standing on was right at the edge for its sheer size. I could see a small market, about half a mile down the beach, from the marina. I went back inside to grab my wallet, and left a note, with my satellite phones number if anything were to happen. I took my chance to get some fresh air and a quick stroll along the beach, to view the beauty, of the landscape and among other things, as I would be lying if I said I could count all the scantily clad beauties soaking up the sun’s rays.
As I reached the market I was assaulted by anything and everything, fresh fruit, books movies, music, clothing, a true bazaar, of sorts. All I could find myself wanting to do was dig through the boxes of used books to see what I could find, everything was either sun bleached or weathered from the salt water, but that’s what makes a used book a good book, how weathered it is, means it’s seen some travels, and different times. I ended up buying an old beat up copy of treasure island for two bucks and then wandered about to see what else I could find. When I bumped into Pierre.
“Hello,” I said as I stopped to look at a fruit stand. “Anything good?”
“Everything is good mon,” the man tending the stand said. “Fresh limes, Jamaican bananas, mangos, coconuts.”
“A Good Key lime pie does sound nice for dessert,” I mused. “How much are the limes?”
“Two dozen for 3 bucks,” The man said.
“And the bananas?” I asked inquisitively.
“Fifty cents a pound,” the man said not missing a beat.
“Well Pierre,” I began.
“Key lime pie and homemade banana ice cream?” Pierre finished for me. “They all do look good.”
“Five pounds of bananas, two dozen limes, and a coconut,” I said as I fished out my wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change; I have no need for it.”
“May god bless you sir,” the man said as he put the money into a box and weighed out five pounds of bananas, and handed me a sack with everything inside of it.
“I was heading to the local seafood market,” Pierre said. “Maybe you would like to come and help find tonight’s dinner?”
I followed Pierre to the fish market, for a look to see what could be found. The assaulting smell of fish was nothing compared to the variety of everything you could find. Shrimp, Mahi-Mahi, tuna, lobsters, crabs, crayfish, it ceased to amaze me. But a nice sized Grouper caught my eye. The sign said it was a good 10Kg, of which I would speculate 8-9Kg of it edible. Anyway you look at it; it’s what caught my eye as the catch of the day for dinner. And 50 bucks is not a bad price, to pay for a fish that was freshly caught naught 5-6 hours ago. Wrapped in paper packed with dry ice and wrapped again, Pierre took the fish and I carried my shopping all back to the boat.
When we returned Hands was sitting on the deck with a cup of coffee, watching as Joe and Mason were having a contest to see who could do the most pushups. Hans was the judge I presume, and apparently they were in the triple digits. I just watched as they kept going, struggling and them opening my mouth. “Whoever last the longest gets fifty bucks, cash right here right now.”
“You’re going down Joe,” Mason laughed a few seconds after my proclamation.
“In your dreams,” Joe said. “I’m not a pansy ass like you.”
“Such ferocity,” I laughed. ”I like.” They stayed at it another good twenty minutes, throwing banter the other to give up. I could tell they were at their limits. As both of them went up at the same time for one last final heave and crashed down at the same time. I waited a few seconds before I fished out two twenties and two fives before giving it to each of them. “Neither of you outlasted the other. You split it.”
“Twenty five is better than none,” Joe said as he rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position.
I plugged my ear buds from my iPod in and sat down into a deck chair and started reading. †˜Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17— and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow Inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre-cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.’ I’ve read these lines so many times I could possibly speak them by heart if I had to. This is just one story that never gets old to me.
0
Cool Part 2 is up~
Very nice too...
But still I'm kinda lost at what the whole point of this story is...
Is it just Douglas going around the world to destination unknown just cause he can or is there something behind.
Sure he won a Lottery Jackpot, but was there any particular reason he got a boat and crew to sail to wherever he pleased.
I'm just curious to what is the point of it all. So I can try and figure out for myself what's going to happen next.
Very nice too...
But still I'm kinda lost at what the whole point of this story is...
Is it just Douglas going around the world to destination unknown just cause he can or is there something behind.
Sure he won a Lottery Jackpot, but was there any particular reason he got a boat and crew to sail to wherever he pleased.
I'm just curious to what is the point of it all. So I can try and figure out for myself what's going to happen next.
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Blank_Zai wrote...
Cool Part 2 is up~Very nice too...
But still I'm kinda lost at what the whole point of this story is...
Is it just Douglas going around the world to destination unknown just cause he can or is there something behind.
Sure he won a Lottery Jackpot, but was there any particular reason he got a boat and crew to sail to wherever he pleased.
I'm just curious to what is the point of it all. So I can try and figure out for myself what's going to happen next.
Thank you
It kind of gets dragged out to the actual point
That's basically how he see is but then as I a fore mentioned things are going to happen
I'm using cliffhanger points for that exact reason.
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Angelus Lapsus wrote...
Thank you
It kind of gets dragged out to the actual point
That's basically how he see is but then as I a fore mentioned things are going to happen
I'm using cliffhanger points for that exact reason.
Hmm...
If that's how you tell a story. Then I will tolerate.
I'm expecting some great things to come out from this story~
Don't dissappoint, and Keep it up Angelus :wink:
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That was very nicely written.
Like Zai said, I'm curious as to what the point is. I guess you have a reason to do it that way. I have theories about what's gonna happen next but I'll just have to wait and see.
Like Zai said, I'm curious as to what the point is. I guess you have a reason to do it that way. I have theories about what's gonna happen next but I'll just have to wait and see.
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The reason it really drags pout like this is because I have key plot busters that I have planned but I'm trying to pace it. All in all It really breaks down into 6 parts. The Beginning, the ???, the ??? the ??? the ??? and the End.
What is going right now ids the Beginning, there is no key development in the plot just getting to know the main character.
What is going right now ids the Beginning, there is no key development in the plot just getting to know the main character.
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Angelus Lapsus wrote...
What is going right now ids the Beginning, there is no key development in the plot just getting to know the main character.Ah okay...
At least we get to know how the character thinks and how he does things. Good plan~ :wink:
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Blank_Zai wrote...
Ah okay...At least we get to know how the character thinks and how he does things. Good plan~ :wink:
Agreed. :)
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I sat there enjoying the sunshine, reading, as I dozed slightly, when I was roused by Tim as he came to the deck. “We’re ready to leave whenever you are.”
I was just sitting there, looking at my watch, it was just past noon, and it would take about a day to get to the Virgin Islands, from my speculations. “How’s the fuel?”
“Tanks are fuel and plenty is in reserve if we need it,” Tim said as he looked out towards the horizon. “It would be best to leave when the marina is in this way, before everyone starts coming back in.”
I looked over towards the marina and there were very few boats actually at dock. A few fishing vessels here and there nothing too special. Then I looked out to the horizon. My adventure has just begun. Something welled up inside of me, as I stood up and walked towards the stern of the ship. I leaned over slightly as I felt the boat swaying in the water. “FORWARD HO CAPTIAN!”
I pulled back a bit as the boat started up and a few minutes later the boat was moving and I could feel the salty breeze of the sea whipping at my face. I was reminded of an old proverb. †˜A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’. My journey has begun. What it holds for me I do not know, but all I do know it is the adventure of a life time.
As the time passed I grew bored of sitting there letting the wind whip at my face so I went to my cabin and changed into a pair of jersey shorts and a pair of tennis shoes. The weather nice and the deck of the ship giving plenty of room to run a bit, I decide to do so.
I set my iPod to shuffle and my pedometer to zero, and began to run laps around the deck. I’d probably estimate a single circuit to be about 100 feet, nothing extravagant, but when you run through that 100 times, you’ve ran about 1.9 miles. Continuing to do so only to stop for a few minutes on and off, for an hour, I looked at the pedometer showing a total of 16873 steps. Just about 8.5 miles, by my calculation, when I collapsed on the deck chair panting like crazy.
“In a tropic climate like this where you’re out in the middle of an ocean and it’s humid,” Hans said as he walked over with a bottle of water. “What seems like a good idea can be a very bad idea. Drink it slowly; you don’t want to get sick.”
“Yeah I know,” I panted taking a swig of the ice cold water. “Next time I get an idea like that stop me before I do it. Or better yet put me on a treadmill. That way I’ll be in a climate controlled area.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hans laughed. “I’d suggest you go inside and get some food into your system, the water alone isn’t going to help. Just wait a few minutes before you eat.”
“Thank you for your concern,” I commented as I took another swig of water and headed inside. The Air Conditioning was not on very high which was good I didn’t want to go from a sweltering humid atmosphere to a cold dry one. I walked over to the bar and grabbed a pint of orange juice from inside the bar fridge.
I walked over and sat down on the couch letting it squish and form beneath me, as I unscrewed the cap from the bottle of orange juice and took a sip. The feeling of it burning as it went down was comforting, I was getting hungry, and dinner would not be ready for another six hours or so, so I headed into the galley, to see what I could find. Pierre was nowhere to be found, probably taking a nap. So I took the liberty of looking for some bread and peanut butter, to fix a sandwich.
Sandwich and banana in hand, I walked back into the main living area and went over to a shelve that had a collection of movie’s grabbing Robin Hood Men In Tights, and putting it into the DVD player. This movie is so stupid yet so funny, from the singing and dancing to the in jokes from other movies. Max Brooks just really knows how to make a movie that is so bad it’s good.
I just kind of crashed right there on the couch, the food did me some good but that does not cover the fact that I just pulled an 8 mile run, in the middle of a hot and humid area. I guess I was asleep for about a few hours when the smell of food roused me from my nap.
“Will you look at yourself,” Hans said as he shook his head. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Pierre has dinner almost ready, and he wants everyone to partake.”
“Uh yeah right,” I said as I felt the skin on my back peel away from the leather. “Remind me to clean the couch with some leather wipes latter.”
I stumbled down the stairs to my cabin, and could smell the sweat on me as I turned on the water for a shower. Even thought water is an unlimited resource, it’s never my style to sit and soak in a shower. So I’m in and out in five minutes smelling of the original sent Irish Springs Body wash, my hair combed back away from my brow. I stopped for a pause to admire my physique in the mirror, I’m not the world’s hottest hunk of man meat, but I like to think of myself as attractive. I’m slender in build but not get that guy a taco or something skinny. I have some muscle tone over laying in my upper arms and legs, but my abs are flat as a board. Something that no matter how hard I try it never seems to change.
I was dressed and back up to the main cabin as everyone was standing near the table. Pierre was just bringing out the food, so I doubt anyone was waiting long. I walked up clearing my throat, before I began to speak. “To everyone here,” I began as I walked over towards the bar and grabbed a bottle of Champaign. “I wish to say, thank you. Each of you have signed up for five years. Five years of adventure, five years of life at sea. May they be a prosperous five years, may we walk away from this with stories to tell. May my fortune last that long, and then some.”
“Here, here,” everyone jeered as I popped the cork.
“May this journey serve us well,” Hans said. “For those of us who log our travels for inspiration.”
“May we find adventure in the far corners of the globe,” Mason said.
“May I find new things to try when I open my restaurant,” Pierre said.
“May I find a port to call home after this,” Joe said.
“May the oceans currents guide us on an adventure of a lifetime,” Tim said.
“That reminds me,” I said as I looked up at everyone. “Who’s steering the boat?”
“For right now we are dead in the water,” Tim said. “The engines are idling but are ready to go at a moment’s notice. If the ship does drift it will be less than two nautical miles in an hour. An easy recalculation of course.”
The meal went well, everyone explaining what had happened to them in their past and why they were here. Hans an aspiring novelist, decided to join this expedition to come up with a series of novels. Tim’s wife had left him and took everything. Then Joe and Mason were squad mates, and left the military together. Then it came to me. What could I really say? I’m rich so I thought I’d do this for the hell of it? Or that my deep rooted love of traveling has taken on the ultimate experience? I can’t really say which is the best way to answer this, so I just let my mouth say what came to mind.
“I was always brought up to love traveling, and winning the lottery, has given me the chance of a life time,” I began. “I really just want to find a corner of the world where I can just live my life, maybe find someone who I would love to spend my life with. I don’t really have a definitive answer.”
“A wayward soul,” Tim said. “You’re not running from anything, you’re running towards everything.”
“A wayward soul,” I repeated. “I guess that’s what I am. I have no real plan of my future. I never did, and possibly never will.”
After dinner everyone went to do their respective thing. Pierre was washing the dishes, Hans in his room with his computer, working on his novels I would assume. Tim was back in the wheel house, and Joe and Mason were on the deck standing watch for other vessels that might be out.
I went to my quarters, and sat down flipping open my laptop. I linked into the ships satellite service, to find a signal, and went to work sorting through my emails. Reading those from my family first, it’s just a comfort of mine to know if they are alright. There was one in particular from my sister, which brought a smile to my face. It was a picture of my little nephew Noboru, with Udon noodles all over him. There was a line of text, under it. †˜Noboru like wearing Udon more than he likes eating it.’
I chuckled for a bit before I sent my response to her, †˜Try feeding him instead of letting him feed himself.’
After a few minutes of that, I walked back up to the main cabin and went over to the bar and poured myself a drink. Grey Goose and Club Soda, on the rocks, with a wedge of lime. Before I headed up to the deck for some fresh air.
I leaned up against the port side rails of the ship and looked on as we passed by the Bahamas. Such a beautiful sight. Tropical islands, the middle of the night, the full moon over the ocean. As you are sailing. There is nothing really quite like it, words cannot describe how serene it is to be like this. It’s times and places like this where your head is clear and all your worries just drift away.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Hans said walking up next to me. “I hope you don’t mind but I grabbed one of the beers.”
“Not at all,” I said raising my glass. “Kampai!”
“Op uw gezondheid,” Hans said raising the beer bottle before taking a swig. “I didn’t know you knew Japanese. I’m quite impressed, I lived there for a three years when I was a child. Haven’t been back since.”
“I’m half blooded,” I said. “My mother is Japanese, and my father is American. I was raised speaking by people who spoke English, French, German, Japanese, and Russian. So tell me is Dutch, English, and Japanese all you know?”
“No,” Hans said taking a long swig from the bottle. “I speak German as well. In the borderlands of Belgium and Germany. For the most part of my life, then when I turned 18 I moved to the united states. I always wanted to write the next Treasure Island the next Frankenstein, the next 1984. So I received my green card, and went to school as an English lit major. Graduated, 6 years latter with my bachelors in English Lit, and then another 3 years latter with my Masters degree. Then I taught for a few years as I worked on my masterpiece.”
“So what happened?” I asked pressing for more information.
Hans looked down at his beer, and thought for a few seconds. “’A third grader could write this.’ †˜This is literature?’ †˜Does this guy even speak English?’ All of these things were used to describe my book. I just had a break down, resigned from my post as a teacher. Picked up jobs here and there. Worked in a library for a few years. Then one day as I was working someone brought a book to me. It wasn’t a book from the library it was a copy of my book. †˜You are Hans Yaeger are you not?’ This person asked me. †˜That I am,’ I answered them back.” Hans stopped to take another swig. “Long story short, the guy said that he had seen me in here so many times he thought he must be mistaken so he thought he’d ask. I signed my book for him, the first copy of it I ever signed. It gave me the inspiration to write again.”
“And how old are you if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked taking a sip from my glass.
“Come August I will be 53,” Hans said taking a sip of beer.
I almost dropped my glass into the water. “Bullshit, there is no way. You’re no older than 35 tops.”
“You don’t look 22 either,” Hans retorted. “But thank you for the vote of confidence.”
“So have you ever been married?” I asked digging even more.
“I was married for 15 years,” Hans said. “If only I had not stayed late, I may have been there in time. No one expected the heart attack. By the time I got home she was long gone. We didn’t have any children of our own. So the house was quite empty after she passed on.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said as I took a sip from my glass.
“Don’t be,” Hans said. “She always wanted me to look to the future and that’s what I always do. I rarely look back at the past. Something that has happened cannot be changed. I should really give Tim a break in the wheel house.” Hans finished the last of the bottle and threw it over the side of the boat. “Get some sleep yourself. Tomorrow the virgins of the Virgin Islands await us.”
“Tomorrow I plot where I want to head to next,” I yelled as I finished my drink pouring the ice into the water. I headed inside. And walked down to my cabin. The alcohol in my system was just enough to spread slight warmth throughout my body as I changed into a pair of boxers and flipped a switch to turn the AC on. Cold air caressed my half naked body as I laid down on my bed. Mulling over thoughts that chased each other through my head.
I was just sitting there, looking at my watch, it was just past noon, and it would take about a day to get to the Virgin Islands, from my speculations. “How’s the fuel?”
“Tanks are fuel and plenty is in reserve if we need it,” Tim said as he looked out towards the horizon. “It would be best to leave when the marina is in this way, before everyone starts coming back in.”
I looked over towards the marina and there were very few boats actually at dock. A few fishing vessels here and there nothing too special. Then I looked out to the horizon. My adventure has just begun. Something welled up inside of me, as I stood up and walked towards the stern of the ship. I leaned over slightly as I felt the boat swaying in the water. “FORWARD HO CAPTIAN!”
I pulled back a bit as the boat started up and a few minutes later the boat was moving and I could feel the salty breeze of the sea whipping at my face. I was reminded of an old proverb. †˜A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’. My journey has begun. What it holds for me I do not know, but all I do know it is the adventure of a life time.
As the time passed I grew bored of sitting there letting the wind whip at my face so I went to my cabin and changed into a pair of jersey shorts and a pair of tennis shoes. The weather nice and the deck of the ship giving plenty of room to run a bit, I decide to do so.
I set my iPod to shuffle and my pedometer to zero, and began to run laps around the deck. I’d probably estimate a single circuit to be about 100 feet, nothing extravagant, but when you run through that 100 times, you’ve ran about 1.9 miles. Continuing to do so only to stop for a few minutes on and off, for an hour, I looked at the pedometer showing a total of 16873 steps. Just about 8.5 miles, by my calculation, when I collapsed on the deck chair panting like crazy.
“In a tropic climate like this where you’re out in the middle of an ocean and it’s humid,” Hans said as he walked over with a bottle of water. “What seems like a good idea can be a very bad idea. Drink it slowly; you don’t want to get sick.”
“Yeah I know,” I panted taking a swig of the ice cold water. “Next time I get an idea like that stop me before I do it. Or better yet put me on a treadmill. That way I’ll be in a climate controlled area.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hans laughed. “I’d suggest you go inside and get some food into your system, the water alone isn’t going to help. Just wait a few minutes before you eat.”
“Thank you for your concern,” I commented as I took another swig of water and headed inside. The Air Conditioning was not on very high which was good I didn’t want to go from a sweltering humid atmosphere to a cold dry one. I walked over to the bar and grabbed a pint of orange juice from inside the bar fridge.
I walked over and sat down on the couch letting it squish and form beneath me, as I unscrewed the cap from the bottle of orange juice and took a sip. The feeling of it burning as it went down was comforting, I was getting hungry, and dinner would not be ready for another six hours or so, so I headed into the galley, to see what I could find. Pierre was nowhere to be found, probably taking a nap. So I took the liberty of looking for some bread and peanut butter, to fix a sandwich.
Sandwich and banana in hand, I walked back into the main living area and went over to a shelve that had a collection of movie’s grabbing Robin Hood Men In Tights, and putting it into the DVD player. This movie is so stupid yet so funny, from the singing and dancing to the in jokes from other movies. Max Brooks just really knows how to make a movie that is so bad it’s good.
I just kind of crashed right there on the couch, the food did me some good but that does not cover the fact that I just pulled an 8 mile run, in the middle of a hot and humid area. I guess I was asleep for about a few hours when the smell of food roused me from my nap.
“Will you look at yourself,” Hans said as he shook his head. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Pierre has dinner almost ready, and he wants everyone to partake.”
“Uh yeah right,” I said as I felt the skin on my back peel away from the leather. “Remind me to clean the couch with some leather wipes latter.”
I stumbled down the stairs to my cabin, and could smell the sweat on me as I turned on the water for a shower. Even thought water is an unlimited resource, it’s never my style to sit and soak in a shower. So I’m in and out in five minutes smelling of the original sent Irish Springs Body wash, my hair combed back away from my brow. I stopped for a pause to admire my physique in the mirror, I’m not the world’s hottest hunk of man meat, but I like to think of myself as attractive. I’m slender in build but not get that guy a taco or something skinny. I have some muscle tone over laying in my upper arms and legs, but my abs are flat as a board. Something that no matter how hard I try it never seems to change.
I was dressed and back up to the main cabin as everyone was standing near the table. Pierre was just bringing out the food, so I doubt anyone was waiting long. I walked up clearing my throat, before I began to speak. “To everyone here,” I began as I walked over towards the bar and grabbed a bottle of Champaign. “I wish to say, thank you. Each of you have signed up for five years. Five years of adventure, five years of life at sea. May they be a prosperous five years, may we walk away from this with stories to tell. May my fortune last that long, and then some.”
“Here, here,” everyone jeered as I popped the cork.
“May this journey serve us well,” Hans said. “For those of us who log our travels for inspiration.”
“May we find adventure in the far corners of the globe,” Mason said.
“May I find new things to try when I open my restaurant,” Pierre said.
“May I find a port to call home after this,” Joe said.
“May the oceans currents guide us on an adventure of a lifetime,” Tim said.
“That reminds me,” I said as I looked up at everyone. “Who’s steering the boat?”
“For right now we are dead in the water,” Tim said. “The engines are idling but are ready to go at a moment’s notice. If the ship does drift it will be less than two nautical miles in an hour. An easy recalculation of course.”
The meal went well, everyone explaining what had happened to them in their past and why they were here. Hans an aspiring novelist, decided to join this expedition to come up with a series of novels. Tim’s wife had left him and took everything. Then Joe and Mason were squad mates, and left the military together. Then it came to me. What could I really say? I’m rich so I thought I’d do this for the hell of it? Or that my deep rooted love of traveling has taken on the ultimate experience? I can’t really say which is the best way to answer this, so I just let my mouth say what came to mind.
“I was always brought up to love traveling, and winning the lottery, has given me the chance of a life time,” I began. “I really just want to find a corner of the world where I can just live my life, maybe find someone who I would love to spend my life with. I don’t really have a definitive answer.”
“A wayward soul,” Tim said. “You’re not running from anything, you’re running towards everything.”
“A wayward soul,” I repeated. “I guess that’s what I am. I have no real plan of my future. I never did, and possibly never will.”
After dinner everyone went to do their respective thing. Pierre was washing the dishes, Hans in his room with his computer, working on his novels I would assume. Tim was back in the wheel house, and Joe and Mason were on the deck standing watch for other vessels that might be out.
I went to my quarters, and sat down flipping open my laptop. I linked into the ships satellite service, to find a signal, and went to work sorting through my emails. Reading those from my family first, it’s just a comfort of mine to know if they are alright. There was one in particular from my sister, which brought a smile to my face. It was a picture of my little nephew Noboru, with Udon noodles all over him. There was a line of text, under it. †˜Noboru like wearing Udon more than he likes eating it.’
I chuckled for a bit before I sent my response to her, †˜Try feeding him instead of letting him feed himself.’
After a few minutes of that, I walked back up to the main cabin and went over to the bar and poured myself a drink. Grey Goose and Club Soda, on the rocks, with a wedge of lime. Before I headed up to the deck for some fresh air.
I leaned up against the port side rails of the ship and looked on as we passed by the Bahamas. Such a beautiful sight. Tropical islands, the middle of the night, the full moon over the ocean. As you are sailing. There is nothing really quite like it, words cannot describe how serene it is to be like this. It’s times and places like this where your head is clear and all your worries just drift away.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Hans said walking up next to me. “I hope you don’t mind but I grabbed one of the beers.”
“Not at all,” I said raising my glass. “Kampai!”
“Op uw gezondheid,” Hans said raising the beer bottle before taking a swig. “I didn’t know you knew Japanese. I’m quite impressed, I lived there for a three years when I was a child. Haven’t been back since.”
“I’m half blooded,” I said. “My mother is Japanese, and my father is American. I was raised speaking by people who spoke English, French, German, Japanese, and Russian. So tell me is Dutch, English, and Japanese all you know?”
“No,” Hans said taking a long swig from the bottle. “I speak German as well. In the borderlands of Belgium and Germany. For the most part of my life, then when I turned 18 I moved to the united states. I always wanted to write the next Treasure Island the next Frankenstein, the next 1984. So I received my green card, and went to school as an English lit major. Graduated, 6 years latter with my bachelors in English Lit, and then another 3 years latter with my Masters degree. Then I taught for a few years as I worked on my masterpiece.”
“So what happened?” I asked pressing for more information.
Hans looked down at his beer, and thought for a few seconds. “’A third grader could write this.’ †˜This is literature?’ †˜Does this guy even speak English?’ All of these things were used to describe my book. I just had a break down, resigned from my post as a teacher. Picked up jobs here and there. Worked in a library for a few years. Then one day as I was working someone brought a book to me. It wasn’t a book from the library it was a copy of my book. †˜You are Hans Yaeger are you not?’ This person asked me. †˜That I am,’ I answered them back.” Hans stopped to take another swig. “Long story short, the guy said that he had seen me in here so many times he thought he must be mistaken so he thought he’d ask. I signed my book for him, the first copy of it I ever signed. It gave me the inspiration to write again.”
“And how old are you if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked taking a sip from my glass.
“Come August I will be 53,” Hans said taking a sip of beer.
I almost dropped my glass into the water. “Bullshit, there is no way. You’re no older than 35 tops.”
“You don’t look 22 either,” Hans retorted. “But thank you for the vote of confidence.”
“So have you ever been married?” I asked digging even more.
“I was married for 15 years,” Hans said. “If only I had not stayed late, I may have been there in time. No one expected the heart attack. By the time I got home she was long gone. We didn’t have any children of our own. So the house was quite empty after she passed on.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said as I took a sip from my glass.
“Don’t be,” Hans said. “She always wanted me to look to the future and that’s what I always do. I rarely look back at the past. Something that has happened cannot be changed. I should really give Tim a break in the wheel house.” Hans finished the last of the bottle and threw it over the side of the boat. “Get some sleep yourself. Tomorrow the virgins of the Virgin Islands await us.”
“Tomorrow I plot where I want to head to next,” I yelled as I finished my drink pouring the ice into the water. I headed inside. And walked down to my cabin. The alcohol in my system was just enough to spread slight warmth throughout my body as I changed into a pair of boxers and flipped a switch to turn the AC on. Cold air caressed my half naked body as I laid down on my bed. Mulling over thoughts that chased each other through my head.
0
Ahhh...
A nice breath of fresh air.
Good job the Angelus Once again. I'm assuming your moving on from the Main characters background to his crew mates back stories? Or somehow doing both at the same time.
Either way a Good read nonetheless.
Keep it Up Angelus Lapsus~
A nice breath of fresh air.
Good job the Angelus Once again. I'm assuming your moving on from the Main characters background to his crew mates back stories? Or somehow doing both at the same time.
Either way a Good read nonetheless.
Keep it Up Angelus Lapsus~
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Blank_Zai wrote...
Ahhh...A nice breath of fresh air.
Good job the Angelus Once again. I'm assuming your moving on from the Main characters background to his crew mates back stories? Or somehow doing both at the same time.
Either way a Good read nonetheless.
Keep it Up Angelus Lapsus~
More or less.
Thank you
nekoxxx wrote...
your story kinda is interesting to me and besides you've some talent too^^Considering this is just mostly pulled out of my ass with a set idea, of what I want to do it's one of my better works thus far. I'm trying to stick to original fiction with this one.
0
The new chapter's good. There was one or two grammatical/spelling errors but that doesn't matter.
I like that you're starting to get into the past of the other characters.
I like that you're starting to get into the past of the other characters.
0
Garden of Madness wrote...
The new chapter's good. There was one or two grammatical/spelling errors but that doesn't matter.I like that you're starting to get into the past of the other characters.
There is no set chapters just chunks of story that I post when I get to a good size and stopping point
Also fixed the only Grammatical error I could find
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Angelus Lapsus wrote...
There is no set chapters just chunks of story that I post when I get to a good size and stopping pointAlso fixed the only Grammatical error I could find
Well I didn't know what to call them so saying chapters was just easier.
0
Garden of Madness wrote...
Angelus Lapsus wrote...
There is no set chapters just chunks of story that I post when I get to a good size and stopping pointAlso fixed the only Grammatical error I could find
Well I didn't know what to call them so saying chapters was just easier.
S'alright the way I have this planned out there really just is three maybe four main sections of story, you could call chapters, you could call these mini chapters.