Come to Watch the Master Work~?

We Are the Vultures, The Dirtiest Kind, We'll Cut You Once in Your Heart and Your Mind.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster considered telling her that love was a strong word to describe his relationship to maps, but didn’t end up saying anything. Instead, he watched curiously as she held out her hands. He glanced around a little when the air stilled, feeling the magnetic energy change in the atmosphere and wondering what she was doing. He didn’t have to wonder long, though, and flinched as he was suddenly sprayed with water.

The navigator’s shoulders rose, and he was hunched over with a slight glare when she turned around to face him.

 “…Mmhmm.” He sighed as she spoke, but his expression lightened after a moment and he straightened his posture again. “…Tricks, huh?” He murmured, mouth turning up into a smirk.

Dampness seemingly forgotten, he searched in his coat pocket for a moment and came out with a small coin purse, which he held open and seemed to stare intensely at for a moment. He slowly lifted one hand above the pouch, and then, when he flicked his wrist, two, three, four silver coins flew out one after the other. Foster pulled his hand back and the coins veered sideways on their path, landing on the balcony of the deck, balanced precariously on their edges and stacked in a small, unsteady tower that rolled and swayed from side to side with the slow movements of the ship.

“There!” Foster clicked the coin purse shut. “How’s that for- oh,” He waved his empty hand towards the small tower of coins without thinking and sent all four coins tumbling off the other side of the railing. He leaned over in time to see the last one plop into the water and winced.

 “…bother.” He sighed, a frustrated frown crossing his face for a moment.

“..Well, nevermind.” He looked back at Galena, expression relaxing. “Glad those were just quarters, I guess.”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster squeezed his eyes closed and nodded, letting out a slow exhale as the stranger repeated, and then elaborated on, the question.

 “Mm…mmhmm…” He murmured, then sucked in a breath, trying to focus on the cool air. It only (semi) occurred to him that he hadn’t properly answered when the other asked where he was trying to go.

 “…I’m…tryin to get to the ship. My sshhip.” He slurred, eyes squeezing tighter in thought.

 He was going to clarify which ship when he realised that he didn’t know this person.

He was…reasonably sure he didn’t, anyway. It was hard to tell right now.

He knew he could get kind of…touchy-feely when he was drunk, which he certainly was, so he didn’t want to give in to his first instinct of trusting the stranger and outright saying he was a pirate. This person could be a soldier, or a noble or…whoever. Someone who might not take kindly to a pirate.

A drunk, vulnerable pirate who had his gun with him, but was in no condition to shoot straight or fight back.

“…Mm…my name is Foster…” He said instead. He was sure there had been a reason, but it was forgotten as soon as the words left his mouth.

[krvlju-deactivated20160827]

⚓-; Swiftly turning his head from the empty docks back to the stranger, Arlyn squeaks once more, backing up from the other and remaining ignorant as eyes were turned their way due to his inability to stay calm.

⚓-; Looking at the parchment he held, the navigator instantly dropped it in order to put his hands on his head in agony. “OH NO–YOU’RE RIGHT–I CAN’T SWIM WHILE HOLDING THIS! WHAT DO I DO! OH NO OH NO OH NO…!” Fear evident in his voice, his heart sinks as he begins to feel hopeless. Would he have to hold his inventory in his mouth while doggy-paddling in to the open ocean?! He would get nowhere! Not to mention how tired he would get!

⚓-; Too wrapped up in his agony to notice the other making his way towards him, Arlyn can’t help but screech once more as he notices the proximity between the two closing. “T-They’re not all bad, it’s mostly just the c-co-leader…!”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster tried and failed to suppress the snicker that came in response to Arlyn’s panicking. He flinched a little when the young man screamed, but hid it well, grin widening.

 “Co-leader…?” He echoed innocently. Was this boy one of the vagabonds, then? He hadn’t exactly been planning on telling this stranger his life story in the first place, but now he was certainly going to avoid saying too much about himself. Not so much because he feared the vagabonds –or this poor, shaken lad- but more for his own amusement. He liked head games. He wanted to see how long he could keep this one up by remaining a ‘mysterious stranger’.

“What’s so bad about this co-leader in particular….?”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

“Aw, you do care~!” Foster giggled without looking up from his writing. “But that’s precisely why we need a map of the jungle.” He paused for a moment, squinting into the distance like he was counting in his head.

“North is….so then…This way…” He muttered, turning ninety degrees to the right and taking a few steps. He stopped to write something else down.

“Nothing’s going to get stolen or even accomplished if no one can make it in or out of the jungle without being…eaten…” He trailed off, writing again. Then turned back to grin at the captain.

“Plus, not even the locals have this jungle mapped out efficiently. I could be the first~!”

[crystalluscre-blog]

     "Huh? Yeah, yeah I guess. Whatever.“ It wasn’t like Aeon ever acted like she didn’t care about members of her crew, but she had a tendency to act pissed at them for reasons that weren’t their own faults, too. Still, it was a bit embarrassing to hear from her own navigator. Good thing she didn’t blush easily.

    The captain knew how Foster’s abilities worked, so she didn’t quite complain about that. They rarely ever got lost when he was in the lead, but things happened. "Maybe it’d be a good, I don’t know, a training ground.”  She stomped over the leaves on purpose as she walked, unsatisfied with the lack of crunching noises they made under her feet. They were all too green and soft. If it weren’t for the fact that she knew there were dangerous beasts in the area, she would have found this place to be calm and comfortable. “Anyone who gets eaten by snakes is kicked out of the crew. New rule.”

    Aeon blinked at a curious looking vine hanging overhead. It was much thicker than the others and seemed to be slowly coiling– moving downwards. Ah. “See, like that one.” She stated simply, pointing at the giant snake that draped down from the trees and separated the two pirates.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster chuckled to himself distractedly at Aeon’s remark about the training ground.

“That’s the spirit.” He murmured, responding to her next statement with a distracted “Mmm”, busy scribbling down a note about the magnetic forces in this area. Busy enough to not quite hear her pointing out the snake.

 “…What?” He asked, looking up and glancing over his shoulder. His eyes widened as he registered the slowly moving reptile and realised what he had missed.

 His body reacted before his brain and he stepped backwards with a startled “GAH!” He scrambled for his gun in its holster under his coat, only to drop his notebook in the process, scattering loose papers.

 “Aughhh!” He groaned as he grabbed for them. He managed to catch one out of the air, but winced as he watched the others settle in the dirt around him and panickedly set about gathering them, quietly hoped the wind wouldn’t pick up, or the ground in those areas wasn’t too wet.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@aquamederi

His small office on board the ship always seemed especially cramped when they were docked. Which was not to say it wasn’t usually cramped- it was small, with shelves packed with books, trinkets and writing implements, and the walls absolutely covered in maps and star charts. There was something about being stationary that made him particularly fidgety. It wasn’t that he had nothing to do; studying maps of the enclave, making his own, preparing charts and sailing routes…Even without the ship to steer, he had plenty that needed doing, he just…couldn’t focus right now. He was restless.

Foster sighed as he got up from his desk, figuring he just needed to stretch his legs. He grabbed his coat and notebook, and after some deliberation, his gun. He wasn’t planning on going far, but with the…tense political climate about, he supposed it would pay to be careful.

He glanced around as he came above deck. The magnetic fields in the air told him he wasn’t alone before he actually spotted the other person.

“Good morning~!” He greeted the Surgeon-Carpenter with a grin and a wave. He was less bored already.

[aquamederi-deactivated20170516]

  Humming cheerily, Galena had been occupying herself this morning quite well simply playing around with the fog, spinning it between her hands, shaping it as easily as clay, watching it dissolve before her eyes…Today she’d woken up even before the seagulls did, and the chilly air had held more appeal to her than the staleness of the sleeping quarters. Mornings always had a mystical feel to her, with its promise of of a new day, a new life.

  Footsteps broke through the spell. She was slow to turn her back on the railing until an unmistakable voice called out to her. Returning the wave lazily, she nodded in acknowledgement.

  “Mornin’ Foster, had enough of being cooped up in your little hidey-hole?”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster smiled as he approached her, releasing a quiet chuckle as she spoke.

“Yeeess, for now.” He sighed, coming to lean on the railing next to her.

 “Lots to do, but…Ehh.” He slumped listlessly against it and gave a long sigh. “What are you doing? Something more interesting than…maps, I hope?”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@kindkatze

Foster huddled over his notebook, giggling quietly. He hadn’t been trying to attract attention, but it was hard not to be stared at when one sat alone at the back of the pub chortling and scribbling wildly.

He had entered by himself, sober, and immediately tried to sweet-talk a free drink out of the bartender; a gruff, bearded man who had grumpily informed him he wasn’t interested by threatening to have him removed. It hadn’t even been flirting, Foster would have argued. Just compliments. And winking.

Regardless, it had put him in a bad mood. With his ego bruised, he paid full price, then proceeded to order more and more, his notes turning less coherent with every refill, and now he was just doodling.

And laughing. He couldn’t even tell why, anymore, really. But something was so damn funny. He flagged down the waitress for another drink, but had only been met with a pitying, but not unkind look and the information that he had “probably had enough”.

  He remembered arguing, saying he wasn’t hurting anybody. He remembered the waitress saying more plainly that he was being cut off. He remembered being told to go home, though he couldn’t recall by who anymore. It had all been a blur, and he didn’t fully understand how, but now he was outside.

The chilly evening air sobered him some. Not enough to agree that he didn’t need another drink, though, until he had stumbled up the street a ways, and had to stop and lean against a wall to quell his quickly rising nausea.

He had been expecting his natural ability to sense the North and South poles would guide him back in the direction of The Deceit. He knew roughly where the pub was in town. Or he…had known roughly where the pub was in town. And what he hadn’t been expecting was the dizziness.

Clumsily, he retrieved and proceeded to thumb through his notebook. A knot of worry began to form as he flipped past page after page of increasingly incoherent scribbles. He found his map of the town, but it was mostly composed of arrows, notes, and runes he was too drunk to read.

“….Um…” He mumbled, skimming the last few pages before lowering the book and glancing around. North was….left? no, right, or….maybe behind him? Its magnetic pull seemed to be almost spinning.

“…Ohh…sshhhit.…” He slurred, one hand rising to his mouth.

[kindkatze-blog]

     From a distance, it looked like some fool was stumbling about the streets, causing people both driving and walking the sidewalks to shout in the various directions the stranger was moving about. Probably yelling at a drunkard. Not that it was uncommon with some of the people that Isaiah knew littered the streets. He could even be assured that this person was drunk, and probably had no clue who they were or where they were, one of the two.

     Intending fully to pass by on his bike without so much as a second glance. He didn’t need to help this person, that wasn’t his job, he didn’t even know them he was sure of it. None of his business. And yet he still skidded to a stop next to the drunk man as it were and sighed a pitiful sigh.

     Why was he always running into these kinds of people, bad habits attract those with the same habits or something of that nature.

     "You alright sir?“ Isaiah tried to muster a concerned tone, and ended up sounding indifferent instead. ”-Alright enough for me to leave or, are you gonna need help. I assume yes but I’m sorta hoping for a no.“      The pirate was swaying and covering his mouth every few seconds, alerting the medic to very clear signs of nausea.       “I swear if you puke on me I’ll- leave.” He didn’t have threats. He was never any good at threats. He preferred just being honest.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster’s head had tipped back to rest on the wall he was leaning against. His eyes were closed, but they opened at a voice near enough to be talking to him. He straightened himself too fast and his vision swam for a moment, but having the wall to brace his weight against helped keep him from falling over. Or vomiting.

 Sober, he might have made a comment about the rudeness of the younger man. But he was not sober. At all. As it was, all he managed was a shakey “Augh…hhh…Me?” He let out a long exhale and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs, expecting to puke, but the feeling passed.

 “I’m great…” He slurred as he stood up –slowly. “Hhow are you?” He managed a smile, but it dropped as he paused.

“…What was the question…?

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

((sorry i didnt get around to replying today, i had kind of a rough one. Im just gonna make a thread tracking post so i can come back to this tomorrow -thumbs up-))

@crystalluscre - Your turn @aquamederi - My turn @krvlju - Your turn (i think?) @kindkatze - My turn

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@kindkatze

Foster huddled over his notebook, giggling quietly. He hadn’t been trying to attract attention, but it was hard not to be stared at when one sat alone at the back of the pub chortling and scribbling wildly.

 He had entered by himself, sober, and immediately tried to sweet-talk a free drink out of the bartender; a gruff, bearded man who had grumpily informed him he wasn’t interested by threatening to have him removed. It hadn’t even been flirting, Foster would have argued. Just compliments. And winking.

 Regardless, it had put him in a bad mood. With his ego bruised, he paid full price, then proceeded to order more and more, his notes turning less coherent with every refill, and now he was just doodling.

 And laughing. He couldn’t even tell why, anymore, really. But something was so damn funny. He flagged down the waitress for another drink, but had only been met with a pitying, but not unkind look and the information that he had “probably had enough”.

 He remembered arguing, saying he wasn’t hurting anybody. He remembered the waitress saying more plainly that he was being cut off. He remembered being told to go home, though he couldn’t recall by who anymore. It had all been a blur, and he didn’t fully understand how, but now he was outside.

 The chilly evening air sobered him some. Not enough to agree that he didn’t need another drink, though, until he had stumbled up the street a ways, and had to stop and lean against a wall to quell his quickly rising nausea.

 He had been expecting his natural ability to sense the North and South poles would guide him back in the direction of The Deceit. He knew roughly where the pub was in town. Or he…had known roughly where the pub was in town. And what he hadn’t been expecting was the dizziness.

 Clumsily, he retrieved and proceeded to thumb through his notebook. A knot of worry began to form as he flipped past page after page of increasingly incoherent scribbles. He found his map of the town, but it was mostly composed of arrows, notes, and runes he was too drunk to read.

 “….Um…” He mumbled, skimming the last few pages before lowering the book and glancing around. North was….left? no, right, or….maybe behind him? Its magnetic pull seemed to be almost spinning.

“…Ohh...sshhhit.…” He slurred, one hand rising to his mouth.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@krvlju

Without his flashy coat and no more jewelry than a small pair of stud earrings, Foster could blend into the crowd of people fairly easily. He was just another citizen of Peleus Ports; a skinny, unthreatening, dusty-haired slip of a man. No one had bothered him so far as he sat alone on a bench, quietly sketching. No one could see the map he was drawing, carefully labelled –in French, in case someone did happen to look over his shoulder- with routes to the Evermore Mansion.

Still, he was keeping an ear open. He had been told not to wander off on his own, lest he be kidnapped or worse… but the middle of town in broad daylight seemed safe enough. Plus he had his gun. In his rucksack wasn’t a particularly useful place for it, but without his coat, he didn’t have many places to wear his holster that weren’t immediately obvious.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous, though. He was on guard for the captain or someone who might recognize him –for better or worse- and blow his cover. Which was why, although he wasn’t entirely sure he had been noticed, he spoke up when a dark-haired young man got a little too close.

“Lost, Sweetpea~?” He asked, flirtatious tone betraying none of his actual anxiety.

[krvlju-deactivated20160827]

⚓-; “S-Sweetpea…?!” Nearly fainting from the nickname the other so casually used, Arlyn wasn’t quite sure if it was from the other’s tone or from the lack of blood he currently possessed.

⚓-; Clutching the newly bought parchment close to his chest, he instinctively takes a step back from the stranger. He hadn’t intended on getting so close to the other, but in such a packed place he shouldn’t have been surprised that he bumped into another–though he wouldn’t have dreamed of the ‘other’ he bumped into regarding him in such a way.

⚓-; “I-I know perfectly where I am sir, t-thank you very much…!” Bowing ever so slightly, Arlyn prepared to make a run to his ship now that he had the supplies requested of him, but what was this? It seemed there was no ship to even return to! Squealing, the navigator immediately drops his inventory. “T-The ship, where is the ship…?! Did they leave me at the port again?! No, I’m too tired to swim, I can’t make it…!”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster’s eyebrows rose and his smile grew wider, amused the boy’s reaction. When he squealed, Foster felt a small laugh rising into his chest, but managed to suppress it.

“Swim?” He closed his notebook and sat up straighter. He had found something much more interesting than map-drawing. “That would be hard, with your…cargo.” He stood up now, gesturing to the parchment the young man was holding.

 “What a loyal crew you must have, leaving you here. Such a shame~” He took a step towards the flustered  lad, grinning.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@krvlju

Without his flashy coat and no more jewelry than a small pair of stud earrings, Foster could blend into the crowd of people fairly easily. He was just another citizen of Peleus Ports; a skinny, unthreatening, dusty-haired slip of a man. No one had bothered him so far as he sat alone on a bench, quietly sketching. No one could see the map he was drawing, carefully labelled –in French, in case someone did happen to look over his shoulder- with routes to the Evermore Mansion.

 Still, he was keeping an ear open. He had been told not to wander off on his own, lest he be kidnapped or worse… but the middle of town in broad daylight seemed safe enough. Plus he had his gun. In his rucksack wasn’t a particularly useful place for it, but without his coat, he didn’t have many places to wear his holster that weren’t immediately obvious.

 He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous, though. He was on guard for the captain or someone who might recognize him –for better or worse- and blow his cover. Which was why, although he wasn’t entirely sure he had been noticed, he spoke up when a dark-haired young man got a little too close.

 “Lost, Sweetpea~?” He asked, flirtatious tone betraying none of his actual anxiety.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

@aquamederi

His small office on board the ship always seemed especially cramped when they were docked. Which was not to say it wasn’t usually cramped- it was small, with shelves packed with books, trinkets and writing implements, and the walls absolutely covered in maps and star charts. There was something about being stationary that made him particularly fidgety. It wasn’t that he had nothing to do; studying maps of the enclave, making his own, preparing charts and sailing routes…Even without the ship to steer, he had plenty that needed doing, he just...couldn’t focus right now. He was restless.

 Foster sighed as he got up from his desk, figuring he just needed to stretch his legs. He grabbed his coat and notebook, and after some deliberation, his gun. He wasn’t planning on going far, but with the...tense political climate about, he supposed it would pay to be careful.

 He glanced around as he came above deck. The magnetic fields in the air told him he wasn’t alone before he actually spotted the other person.

 “Good morning~!” He greeted the Surgeon-Carpenter with a grin and a wave. He was less bored already.

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Like for a starter, baby~

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster snickered at his captain’s griping, but didn’t bother saying anything until she had finished.

“Oh, of course, ma’am. Useful landmark, that. Evil tree. See? Right here.” He held his notebook out to show her; a rough sketch of the hook of land reaching off the North-Western corner of the island. He marked a small frowning face over their current location. “Suspicious tree.” He said out loud, as though he were writing it down and grinned at her before looking back to his map, up at the tree, then back down. “Hmm…no.” He muttered, scribbling something down.

“…Even if we did steal a map, Captain, we’d still be doing this. I’d just have something…less convenient to be writing on.” He fell silent for a moment as he carefully picked his way over an especially large tree root.

“…Besides,” He said when he had safely made it over without falling. “It’s not like I have much else to be doing lately. Not much navigating to do on a docked ship.”

[crystalluscre-blog]

     "Tch. Smartass.“ She looked over to see if he was actually marking the evil tree down anyways, but it seemed like it was just mocking her.

    "Yeah, yeah, it’s necessary… but I’m an impatient woman, Foster, and I’d rather be spying and mapping out the ugly noblemen’s mansion than this wild and dangerous side of the enclave. Then I could at least steal their treasure and leave this place.” She followed behind him now, pausing every now and then while the navigator scribbled some other nonsense into his notes.

    “I’ll tell you exactly what’s over here,” Aeon threw some hanging vines out of her way and pointed with her hands at the ground even though Foster surely wasn’t looking. “Trees. Grass. Snakes. Lots of those. I don’t suppose you’re out to get eaten by reptiles here, because that’s exactly what would have happened if I hadn’t joined you last minute.”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

“Aw, you do care~!” Foster giggled without looking up from his writing. “But that’s precisely why we need a map of the jungle.” He paused for a moment, squinting into the distance like he was counting in his head.

“North is….so then…This way…” He muttered, turning ninety degrees to the right and taking a few steps. He stopped to write something else down.

“Nothing’s going to get stolen or even accomplished if no one can make it in or out of the jungle without being…eaten…” He trailed off, writing again. Then turned back to grin at the captain.

“Plus, not even the locals have this jungle mapped out efficiently. I could be the first~!”

[crystalluscre-blog]

@fosterpfontaine

     “What a pain in the ass this is. Why can’t we just buy a map from the town– no, steal it– and then mark it up with your nonsense. We’ll have to walk around the entire cursed Enclave to get all these landmarks down.” Aeon huffed. She was far too impatient to be doing a duty like this, but she didn’t really want to leave her navigator to do it alone, either. The nobles were everywhere and he was too valuable a crew member to give up to their slimy, do-gooder hands. 

    “You know what, don’t even answer that,” she waved her hand in annoyance, continuing to walk, or stomp, among the vines and undergrowth of The New Medusa jungle. “I know their maps are too basic and stupid to use, I’m just pissed because I hate this place.” She kicked a rock over to emphasize her burning and agonizing hatred for the Brine Enclave. 

    “What are you marking, anyways? Just random things? Mark that tree over there, ‘ol seadog, I think it was giving me the evil eye and it could be a threat.” 

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

Foster snickered at his captain’s griping, but didn’t bother saying anything until she had finished.

“Oh, of course, ma’am. Useful landmark, that. Evil tree. See? Right here.” He held his notebook out to show her; a rough sketch of the hook of land reaching off the North-Western corner of the island. He marked a small frowning face over their current location. “Suspicious tree.” He said out loud, as though he were writing it down and grinned at her before looking back to his map, up at the tree, then back down. “Hmm…no.” He muttered, scribbling something down.

 “…Even if we did steal a map, Captain, we’d still be doing this. I’d just have something…less convenient to be writing on.” He fell silent for a moment as he carefully picked his way over an especially large tree root.

“…Besides,” He said when he had safely made it over without falling. “It’s not like I have much else to be doing lately. Not much navigating to do on a docked ship.”

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

((Some design process/Tests for Foster. Outfits 2, 4, and 5 are canon!))

[fosterpfontaine-blog]

((Avatar Picture, full sized))

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