(Testing two cannon points, feel free to reply to either, or both, just specify, please.)
CP 1-
"What devilry is this?" Liam asked, under his breath as he looked around the rather... odd... place he found himself. He had been just about to board his ship with news of an exciting and rather secret assignment, but stepping off the gangplank...
His brother's voice vanished, as did the comforting snap of the sail, the scent of the ocean air...
Instead he found himself in... well... he was rather unsure what to call this odd place. In of doors, certainly, but without the faintest stirring of the air, he rather thought they were likely below ground to boot. No ship's cabin, for the air smelled off and there was no gentle rocking beneath his feet, some sort of storage area, he supposed, save for two things - no scent or sight of anything being stored, and people moving about as though it were early morning in a tavern.
He had to go into one, every now and again, to fetch out a sailor who needed reminders as to punctuality and other aspects of good form. He had no ship with such dens of ill repute himself. And yet... there was none of the violent revelry he had come to expect of such a place, no one seemed to be fighting or shouting out of turn.
What the devil was going on?
CP 2 - Pain. His world had become a narrow black tunnel of pain. He should have listened to his little brother, should have trusted his remaining blood... But if he couldn't trust King and Country... what was left for him?
Not that there was much time for that to matter. He could feel the plant's poison working it's way to his heart. He had been with his brother just seconds before, dying amid warm sun and the comfort of the only person left that he could trust, the only person yet who cared if he lived, beyond needing a captain and a sucker.
Now he was... he wasn't sure. Darker. Was this death? Was this dying? At what point... would the pain end?
"I'm so sorry.... my brother...." he whispered, with what he presumed was his last breaths....
2
CP 1-
"What devilry is this?" Liam asked, under his breath as he looked around the rather... odd... place he found himself. He had been just about to board his ship with news of an exciting and rather secret assignment, but stepping off the gangplank...
His brother's voice vanished, as did the comforting snap of the sail, the scent of the ocean air...
Instead he found himself in... well... he was rather unsure what to call this odd place. In of doors, certainly, but without the faintest stirring of the air, he rather thought they were likely below ground to boot. No ship's cabin, for the air smelled off and there was no gentle rocking beneath his feet, some sort of storage area, he supposed, save for two things - no scent or sight of anything being stored, and people moving about as though it were early morning in a tavern.
He had to go into one, every now and again, to fetch out a sailor who needed reminders as to punctuality and other aspects of good form. He had no ship with such dens of ill repute himself. And yet... there was none of the violent revelry he had come to expect of such a place, no one seemed to be fighting or shouting out of turn.
What the devil was going on?
CP 2 - Pain. His world had become a narrow black tunnel of pain. He should have listened to his little brother, should have trusted his remaining blood... But if he couldn't trust King and Country... what was left for him?
Not that there was much time for that to matter. He could feel the plant's poison working it's way to his heart. He had been with his brother just seconds before, dying amid warm sun and the comfort of the only person left that he could trust, the only person yet who cared if he lived, beyond needing a captain and a sucker.
Now he was... he wasn't sure. Darker. Was this death? Was this dying? At what point... would the pain end?
"I'm so sorry.... my brother...." he whispered, with what he presumed was his last breaths....