#bob bogbog

[therunawayscamp]

“Tell me that wasn’t fun!”

Bob paused. There were bits of wood wedged into her hair, a gash across her shoulder, and a chip in her tusk, and she was grinning.

‘Y'right, it was fun. You’re better'n most humans. Less… breakable.’

[therunawayscamp]

⏰😘🤐 for any muse!

Random Number Generator: Drasonval, Oran, Bob.

⏰How long do their relationships tend to last?

Given that he is already married, albeit unhappily, Drasonval’s relationships don’t tend to last longer than it takes for the Scamp to sail out of the port. Even his marriage didn’t last a huge amount of time before turning sour. He has a tendency to put his own needs first and doesn’t see any problem with being dishonest if he thinks it will be for the better in the long run, which is not the way to approach a long-term relationship.

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😘Does their demeanor change when in a relationship?  

A relationship brings out Oran’s “poetic” side, to the immense distress of the crew. He will devote what they consider to be an inordinate amount of time fawning over – and also boasting about – his partner and play an exaggerated role of gentleman… until he gets bored of his latest inamorata, whereupon he reverts to his old, crass ways.

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🤐Would they ever confess their feelings first?

Bob certainly would. Neither Orcs nor sailors are known for their grasp of subtlety, and she fits both boxes. It does depend on the definition of “feelings”, though; like the rest of the crew, Bob would rather run a mile than be the first to broach the subject of deeper, more sentimental feelings.

[therunawayscamp]

Grief

The Scamps have lost more than a few of their own over the centuries, but that doesn’t make it any easier. They each have their own ways of reacting to and dealing with the ensuing grief.

R’khan gets much stricter and quicker to anger. The only time he has ever hit Luca was after a crew member was killed, in response to an unrelated incident. She didn’t retaliate, surprisingly, but ran away and hid in the hold for a while, where the Argonians kept her company. R’khan didn’t apologise but then again, he also didn’t punish her for shirking her duties.

Speaking of Luca, on the rare occasions when somebody she actually likes dies, she gets stuck in the denial phase of grief. The person in question cannot be dead, and if they are, there must be a way to get them back. That’s what shady deals with the daedra are for.

Vilayn shuts himself away refusing to talk to anyone and drinks heavily; the length of time and amount of booze vary according to how much he liked the recently deceased. He was drunk for three days straight after he found out that his mother had died. Casether is worried about what will happen if (when) Hazil succumbs to his illness.

Tosti becomes cold, almost surgical. He tends to disappear for a length of time as well. If the person who died was someone close to him, and if they died before their time, the people at fault for their death tend to meet an unpleasant fate of their own shortly afterwards.

Azareth takes the news in his usual stoic way. It’s even more difficult than usual to coax conversation out of him afterwards, although he might be found in deep, quiet debate with Ethysil. Eventually he will pour out one for the deceased, smoke one of his fancier pipes in their honour, and move on.

Bereavement might be the only thing which silences Eddis’s laughter. True, he will start sucking and chewing on his teeth instead, but at least it’s a break from his usual giggling. He also becomes more erratic in his behaviour. The last time they lost a crew member and this happened, R’khan, in a moment of genuine concern for his bosun, called Eddis into his quarters for a private talk; Eddis was back to usual when he left.

Drasonval, Braskan, Oran and Sham commiserate with each other. Their omnipresent sense of camaraderie intensifies, and they will gather around, usually with a drink, and if they all knew the deceased they will share stories together until they’re able to laugh again. If only one of them was personally affected, the others will do their best to cheer him or her up or, failing that, just be there.

Bob will take her feelings out on any objects nearby, smashing them until she feels better. Surprisingly, it works. She doesn’t understand why everybody else has to bury their emotions, or sit around doing nothing about them.

Eldnar feels loss keenly, and struggles to hide his sentimentality. It embarrasses him and -- what a shock -- the crew tease him for it, so he tends to disappear in this sort of situation until he’s over the tears.

According to his beliefs, Ethysil is not supposed to consider death an end, merely a return to a greater whole. That’s all very well as an abstract idea. In practice he becomes very sombre, spends a lot more time alone with his thoughts, and either avoids talking to people if he is the only person affected, or listens quietly if other people knew the deceased.

Jo’Raya doesn’t show much in how she deal with other people, but she loses her appetite and spends a lot more time sleeping, or at least curled up in her bunk, than she usually does.

Assuming her surgical efforts did not contribute towards the death in question, Rosie deals with grief reasonably well. Like anyone, she goes through periods of sadness and anger, but they fade in a reasonable amount of time. If her surgical efforts did contribute, once she overcomes the guilt she will be determined to learn from the experience and do better next time, and will throw herself almost frantically into her work and study to ensure this is the case.

Turithys shuts down all personal communication. She will only talk to people to discuss work, and it can take a long time before she is ready to relax and open up again.

Like Jo’Raya, Xisthia’s interactions with others don’t change much, but that’s assuming they can find her. She will spend most of her time swimming and hiding underwater, distracting herself with exploring the seabed and sometimes sitting on rocks down there, watching the ripples overhead.

Zannammu appears to have much more faith in her concept of an afterlife than Ethysil. She is convinced that those who pass on receive their just rewards and uses this to cope with the loss of them in her own life.

[therunawayscamp]

Head On [Drabble]

The Sandria, an Imperial frigate chartered by House Sadras for the purpose of hunting pirates on their shipping routes, made it almost too easy. She lay in wait off a small atoll north of Skyrim. Barren rock formed most of the area, but the snow covering it provided ample fresh water for any less than lawful sailors needing a quick hideaway and made it – so Khan Sadras assured the captain – a known haunt of those ruffians aboard the Runaway Scamp. She would be on her return voyage now, he said, and should pass Skyrim no less than two weeks before Tales and Tallows, Ancestor's Day to the Dunmer.

That blasted ship's sails came into view on the fourteenth of Last Seed, exactly as planned. The Sandria's captain gave orders to raise the anchor. A few futile attempts found that the cable had been lodged on a rock, the rudder fouled, and before the lookout noticed the Argonian paddling away through the ocean, the Scamp bore down upon them in a hail of magefire and bellowing, screeching pirates. Those who jumped overboard were spared. Those who remained were not.

A search of the hold turned up a number of crates and barrels salvaged from more successful captures, as well as enough supplies for the final two weeks of the journey home. Bob, tasked with inspecting the barrels and reinforcing the enchantments, performed her work on the weather deck while her shipmates tended to their wounds. She probed her thick fingers around the banding on a keg. The enchantment sputtered at her touch until she urged new magic into it, frowning lightly, or as lightly as an Orc could manage when her face was permanently buried under the weight of its own leathery skin. The work was delicate and tedious. Not a chore she was best suited for, but it had to be done.

After a while she became aware of someone else sat nearby. Jo'Raya had the ability to pad up in total silence and yet the impatient swishing of her tail, the silent burr of her nails digging into the deck, always gave her away. A trail of blood, not hers, slicked the fur down from the back of her head and across her neck, and she flicked an ear at it occasionally. They sat in companionable silence for some time before Jo'Raya said,

'You feel it?'

Bob laid down her tools.

'Feel what?'

'The change. This one smells it in the elves.' Jo'Raya stretched out her legs, spreading her toes and letting the claws shine against the bloodstained deck. 'When Khajiit feels change, there is a restlessness which clings to its fur. The urge to run and pounce and to do.'

Years ago, back in the stronghold, Bob remembered the old chieftain, before he was challenged by his son. She had been young then, but that didn't stop her feeling the buzz around the forge or hearing the whispers running along the walls, as if the air were charged with an unseen energy. Eventually the tension grew so tight the son had to make his challenge simply to relieve the strain on the rest of the clan.

The urge to do. Around them, scattered across the deck, the sailors were working as usual, scrubbing down planking and hauling the spoils back to the Runaway Scamp, but every now and then there would be a glance between them, or a silence where there would usually be friendly insults and laughter. Bob picked up her hammer again, only to tap it against the side of a barrel to no effect.

'Mebbe. Why?'

'The elves can't run away from it. Change hunts without rest.'

'Y'ain't thinkin' of desertin'?'

'No. Where would this one go? Besides, Khajiit says, all kittens must leave their clan mother. Some change is merciful.'

In the wintry light which always lay over the Sea of Ghosts, Jo'Raya's fur looked dark, but the edges were tipped with gold. She held herself perfectly still and poised as she gazed out to the ocean. Bob watched her for a while before shrugging and digging herself into her work.

'Orcs got a sayin', too.' She waited until Jo'Raya turned her head to listen. 'Whatever shit life throws at you, meet it head on, 'cause there ain't much thicker'n an Orc skull.'

Jo'Raya's tailed lifted. Bob had never seen a Khajiit until she signed on with the Scamp, but that was enough to teach her that this was the closest Jo'Raya ever came to laughing.

'Orc and Khajiit, not so different.'

'Cap'n says we ain't Orcs 'n Khajiit 'n elves, we's crew.'

'Then we meet the change head on together, yes? We charge in headfirst, one crew.'

For a second, Bob’s fist tightened around the shaft of her hammer. Then she raised it and began beating the iron banding into shape, as the magic flowed through her fingers, and although the ring of metal and metal prevented any reply, the broad, tusk-filled grin was good enough for Jo’Raya. Soon Sham joined them, helping to repair the wood of the barrels, and Luca carried their tools back and forth, and the crew of the Scamp worked on as one around them with change on their heels.

[therunawayscamp]

Background: Bob

The prospects for an Orc woman in a traditional stronghold are not what most people would consider inspiring. Bogbog gra-Gragkh, born to the Chieftain and the Forgewife of a clan on the southern coast of High Rock, spent her childhood learning the art of smithing, training to fight, and generally practising for her future role as a wife traded off to another stronghold. Had the Runaway Scamp not docked nearby, she probably would have been content with her lot.

Sighting the sails over the stronghold fence, however, Bogbog couldn’t help being curious. She received permission from the Chieftain to investigate and found the Scamps in a sheltered bay, hiding from pirate hunters. Both she and the crew were wary at first, but after she showed them where to find fresh water in the area and promised to vouch for them if they ran into other Orcs, they soon warmed up to her. She herself was fascinated by the likes of Sham, Zannammu and Rosie -- women who were small and puny compared to her, yet threw their lot in with the best of them and didn’t appear to answer to anyone other than the captain.

It was after Bogbog offered to build and enchant some new barrels for storing water that R’khan took a deeper interest in her and the talents she could bring to the brig. He offered her a place as cooper and, after turning it over for some time and seeking the permission of her stronghold, Bogbog agreed.

Life changed rapidly after that. First of all, her name: it didn’t take long for Braskan to start adding an extra “bog” on every time he spoke to her, and when even infamous stick-up-the-arse Vilayn struggled to keep a straight face during the rollcall, it was quietly suggested that Bogbog go by her other new nickname - Bob. She has also taken a few lessons from Sham in being a “lady”, although Sham’s qualifications for teaching these lessons -- as someone who can quaff a pint faster than Braskan when needs must -- are dubious.

All things considered, Bob doesn’t regret her decision to sign on. She’s getting used to the ways of this ragtag bunch, rough in a different way to the stronghold, and they are impressed by the strength she brings in addition to her smithing and cooperage. One day, perhaps, she might return to her clan or another stronghold and settle down -- but not yet.

[therunawayscamp]

♡ 5. place a hand on my muse’s shoulder

Maybe it was better not to get involved. Maybe an attempt at restraint was the right thing to do. Maybe, but Bob didn’t agree, as she turned the full force of her tusks and heavy, cragged scowl on Tommy.

‘You wants something? Lemme go after ‘im.’

[therunawayscamp]

Hide - Find my muse hiding from something or someone. [for any Scamp]

Random Number Generator: Bob“Hiding” might have been something of an overstatement. It was difficult for over six feet of Orc to be truly hidden. Bob was giving it her best shot nonetheless, and when Valen stumbled into her chosen corner of the alley she glared at him.‘You call the guards, I break yer face.’

[therunawayscamp]

(Bob) 🏷️Do they give their partners cute nicknames?; ↕️Are they sub, dom or switch?; 👫Do they display affection in public? What about in private?

🏷️ Do they give their partners cute nicknames? 

The Orcish definition of “cute” differs slightly from the human interpretation. Are “Killer” and “Crusher” and other variants on the theme cute? If so, yes.

↕️ Are they sub, dom or switch?

Mostly dom.

👫 Do they display affection in public? What about in private?

Much like the nicknames, there is an element of cultural difference here. Bob would never be caught dead holding someone’s hand, stroking their arm or gazing fondly at them, but she would lock tusks with them, headbutt them, and arm-wrestle them. Orcish relationships are not for the faint of heart.