Gonna Marry the Night is a modern fantasy RP. Based in a fantasy world, where two tribes the Sun Clan and Moon Clan live divided and in constant war against each other. Where is your allegiance? Or perhaps you might be one of the exiled or survivors of various shipwrecks. Come to these lands to see what it offers.
WELCOME TO GONNA MARRY THE NIGHT!
< must read this, folks >
updates
< Reopening of Gonna Marry the Night > Welcome! We are officially reopened. Take a look at all the important areas before deciding to join. Such as the rules, plot and face claims board. If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask.
< Events > We don't have have any events at the moment, so we'll keep you posted.
It was RED's third day on this godforsaken island and though he had been able to attain water, food, useful items, and shelter with relative ease, he couldn't help but feel like his spirit was being crushed. It had nothing to do with being stuck on an island where the natives wanted to kill you and other stranded were hostile one way or another, but it was more about him being fed up with having to put actual effort into getting his food and water. He just wanted to leave and get back to living a life of ease, but with how things seemed on the island, leaving was close to impossible, at least without going blindly into the ocean or becoming part of the crew in the few ships that hadn't actually sunken when coming here, both of which obviously weren't options for RED.
Still, the fact remained that him just avoiding work and complaining about the hand he had been dealt in life with was going to get him nowhere, so uncharacteristically the brunette was out and about early in the morning. Last night off in the distance he could see some rather dark clouds, thanks to the small spyglass he traded for healing one of the stranded (something that was useful cause he didn't need to spend any energy on enhancing his sight, no matter how little it might've been), so there was a good chance there had been a storm, which in turn meant there was a chance for something new having washed up into the shore.
This was confirmed immediately by RED, having spotted quite the sizable shipwreck stuck on some rocks near the shore, though its location was some distance away from where most of the stranded lived. With it being so damn early, he was one of the first to be awake, so it was the perfect chance for him to get to be the first one to try to loot whatever useful he can from the wreckage.
Tying around his belt strings attached two canteens and grabbing a small bag of some fruit and salted meat in it, he set out to walk up to the shipwreck, leaving his shelter by itself and hiding all of his valuables inside a box created from his life-energy. The box itself could be carried away with enough strength, but RED had literally rooted it into the ground, so getting it to even move would require hours and hours of digging first, while the box itself would be able to keep its shape for the next 20 hours or so.
Confident that he could leave his humble shelter and valuable behind, the brunette began walking in the direction of the shipwreck.
*** It took a bit of time for RED to finally get to the shipwreck, as he was the sort who had a really slow walking pace, but once he finally got there alongside with the expected shipwreck, broken pieces of wood and flotsam around the area there were some men lying around the shore. Having that shred of human decency in him, RED made the decision to check up on the men, taking slow steps out laziness rather than caution, while keeping an eye on any life around him. "Any of you awake? Or even alive?" Both questions came out with no real concern for the well-being of the men, and really none of them were necessary for the brunette to even ask, as he was able to immediately tell that all of them were alive once he got close enough, though some were in a better condition than others. And in addition one of them was very... off. RED hadn't ever before "seen" a person like this before, and it was honestly hard to put the feeling into words for him. This man whose life-force was a complete enigma to the brunette did seem to be awake, however, so he was left to wait for a response.
Everything had gone wrong as soon as he had ordered for the crew to steer towards the storm instead of away. The chance to take shelter in the eye of the storm slipped further and further with each oar snapped, each man lost overboard…
“KEEP SAILIN’! We’ll make it, I just know it, men! ROW, ROW!”
Though Baruth held no fear of drowning himself, his heart had a stake of guilt driven through it every time he saw a crewman fly overboard, sent flying by a freak wave or slipping over the railing from the rocking of the ship.
“Captain, we can’t go any further in, there’s no way to reach the eye now! We’re done for, say your prayers!”
“NONSENSE! Here, give me the oars, you steer...”
Grasping a pair of oars with both his flesh-and-bone and his metal hook attachment, he rowed harder than he had ever done in his entire life. His arms burnt with pain, screaming for respite, but Baruth just clenched his teeth and rowed and rowed and rowed…
KRRAK.
“CAPTAIN, WE HIT SOMETHING, WE’RE GOING D-blublbbl-”
As his first mate scrambled out of the brig, soaked to the skin, a monstrous wave swept upon the ship, larger than any other seen that day, batting the poor man against the side of the ship and filling his mouth with salty seawater. The sound of cracking and splintering wood could be barely heard from below as their ship scraped along a submerged reef of some sort. The crew looked around at each other with confused and fearful expressions, all eyes settling on Baruth, begging him for a solution.
“MY LADS! NOW IS THE TIME TO PROVE YOUR WORTH, NOW IS THE TIME TO GROW A BACKBONE! Half of you oarbearers, go down and bail water, fix the leak! The half left, ROW ON, ROW!”
Choked and coughing voices replied as well as they could over the howling winds, but before they could scramble to seize the final strand of salvation, that slim thread was severed by the sudden looming shadow of a huge sea-spire.
“OH SHI- JUMP, JUMP IF YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE!”
No sooner than the words had left Baruth’s mouth had the spire driven its cruel, knifelike edge into the spine of the Kraken’s Scream, breaking apart the ship like a rock smashing, driving against a fragile egg. Crewmen and splintering planks of wood scattered at the impact like so many fragments of eggshells, flying in various directions and most falling into the grasp of the sea. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as Baruth himself was lifted from the deck in a leap of faith...splinters and spray flew before his eyes, blackened silhouettes flailing before him, wreckage and bodies becoming indistinguishable in the darkness and chaos of the storm.
“Goodbye, lads...it was nice sailin’ with all of you...”
And as the sea claimed Baruth, he thought no more.
--
“PTOOH-! Koff, koff…”
A sludge comprised of sand and seawater freed itself from Baruth’s throat, and the King of Pirates opened his eyes at the inquiry of RED, orbs of navy blue wild and unfocused. Immediately he began babbling and screaming nonsense at the top of his lungs, flailing like he was still drowning.
A shiver ran through Baruth’s body, and another spout of sea-sludge expelled itself from his throat. He flipped over wearily onto his hands and knees, coughing dryly, not even taking note of RED standing nearby.
His calls got a reaction, with the man who had that strange life energy to him, though it seemed that the enigma of a man hadn't registered someone was standing a couple of meters away from and just started yelling and flailing like a madman. RED would be lying if he were to say that he didn't find the sight of a man (probably) in his fifties crying out for his father while flailing around like a fish out of water, though he chose to remain silent and wait for the man to calm down. Watching the man cough with as neutral of an expression as he could, once the old man began vomiting out some sort of mixture of seawater and sand RED himself grabbed himself one of the canteens hanging from his belt and took a swig, while of course averting his eyes from the elderly man.
The brunette would keep silent till the man would finally calm down and finish purging orally whatever he had to from his body and then walked up to him, crouching down to speak. "Feeling better, old man?" RED once again asked a question with no real concern whether or not the elderly man was feeling well, though he did feel sympathy for him. He himself found was stranded on the island they were on just a couple of days ago suffering from thirst and hunger so in a very uncharacteristic act the younger man offered the canteen he was holding right now. This wasn't going to become a habit for RED, but he was willing to for once not be a selfish dick. "Want some water?"
As RED looked on at Baruth flailing about like a dying fish, regurgitating sea-sludge and childhood traumas, a few of the other bodies lying around the shore began stirring, signs of life returning to sand-coated limbs.
Suddenly, the air was rife with coughing and spitting of sand from parched mouths as the few other survivors of the Kraken’s Scream became aware of their salvation, some of the more resilient pirates struggling to their feet and gazing around with wonder and confusion.
“Drowning...I...I’m not drowning...I...oh.”
His eyes focusing at last, Baruth got a hold of himself, seemingly. Pushing himself back into a more relaxed sitting position, both legs splayed out in front of him, he noted that RED was watching him closely.
“Who’re...you’re not...koff...”
What he was trying to say was cut off by another coughing fit, this time only bringing up mostly phlegm dotted through with some sand.
“Water...need...water...your...water”
Raspily, Baruth would gesture at RED’s canteen with his good hand, and when offered the canteen he’d unceremoniously snatch it over, tilt his head right backwards and tip every last drop of it into his parched mouth.
As the few remaining drops of water hung about the rim of the canteen, he’d seal it again and hand it back, closing his eyes with a satisfied sigh and licking his chapped lips. Just as RED didn’t exactly do ‘empathy’ or ‘selflessness’, Baruth didn’t quite do ‘politeness’ or ‘gratefulness’.
“Ahaha, yes, that’s the good stuff...”
He’d bask in the rejuvenating feeling of the water trickling down his throat before looking over at RED with a toothy smile.
“Aye, lad, you’re a real lifesaver. Got any more?”
RED took glances at the other men who had finally started to get around to waking up themselves, most likely due to the ruckus caused by the old man who was now drinking down from the canteen he'd been offered with gusto.
It didn't take all that long for the canteen to end up completely empty and RED got his canteen back, which he tied back to hang onto his belt, while the old man himself gave quite the lax recognition of the help he had been given which didn't exactly bother the brunette as he wasn't really expecting much for charity anyway and remained neutral in his expression. Hearing the question of if there was more water did, however, get a reaction out of the man as he had finished tying his canteen and raised his head to meet the old man's smile with a smirk of his own. "I only have one more canteen of water, though I do have some fruits over in this bag which should help with the thirst well enough," RED answered immediately, loosening his bag's strap from his shoulder and it fell down to hang from his wrist, and he continued, "...otherwise I only have some salted meat with me, though I don't know if you've had it with salt for the day." There was clear amusement in his tone as he finished his answer while swinging the bag around a bit like it were a toy. "But..." he spoke up, not giving the old man time to say anything, "these won't be for free." RED's goodwill had ended now and he was not going to hand over something as precious as food and water for free anymore, especially since he had to work for it himself.
Their current salvation had finally dawned on one of the survivors, a scruffy-looking young pirate with a speckled sash tied about his head. He began running around to the other survivors and shaking them violently in joy. That joy was to be cut short, however. Another pirate, much more morose-looking and sullen-faced, turned him around to look in the direction of the wreck.
”Not all of us...”
There were bodies. Many, many bodies. Some bobbing up and down with the waves, some sunken to the bottom, pinned by wreckage, and some wedged among the hard rocky outcrops further out towards the sea.
If RED followed their gaze, he would find no life in any of the corpses; all drowned, battered, or dashed and broken against the sharp rocks. The handful fortunate enough to be washed ashore or into the shallows were the only survivors. That would amount to a rough sum of nine or so pirates, including Baruth himself. Speaking of Baruth…
The old pirate’s whiskery grin hardened, and his navy eyes fixed themselves on the young lad’s brown ones, glinting with an ominous light. With a mirthless snort, Baruth responded to the offer of a trade in a slightly amused tone with just enough edge to it to belie danger.
“D’yeh know who I am, boy? Actually, first of all, what d’you take me fer, some run-o’-th’-mill sailor? I be Baruth o’ Nine Lives, boy. Barazo, th’ King o’ Pirates. Baruth Barazo. Ring any bells? Th’ Cursed Buccaneer, as some know me? I could take that water an’ fruit from ye like takin’ candy from a baby, with how scrawny ye are. But...”
His expression lightened noticeably and he held up his right arm, which had up until then been concealed in the sand. It wasn’t so much of an arm as a scarred fleshy stump that ended about halfway up his forearm, almost reaching the elbow joint.
A broken leather harness hung limply from a torn sleeve, suggesting that something was once strapped and fastened there. The harness straps continued up the arm and ended in an attached shoulder-mounted brace, just visible from under the weathered crude jerkin that covered Baruth’s roughspun sea-garb...and the jerkin seemed to be made from shark leather.
“As ye can see, me arm’s gone. Or rather, th’ thing I use to make up for th’ lack o’ me arm is gone. It’s heavy piece o’ work, so it’s probably somewhere on th’ seafloor near th’ wreck. Oh, th’ poor ol’ girl...”
Trailing off with a note of sadness in his voice, Baruth gestured at the remains of his ship with his left hand.
“Anyway, I’ve taken a shine t’ you, boy. Ye saved me life without even knowin’ me. I be indebted ta you, by pirates’ honour. That an' th' fact I'm missin' an arm, an' I can't fight as well as I would like without it. So I won’t be slittin’ yer throat and takin yer goods. Today, anyway. Ye want somethin’ for your goods, is that it?”
Baruth rose to his feet ponderously, crusted and caked in sand that he shook and brushed away. Cupping his good hand around his mouth, he yelled an order to all his men. The ones that had gotten up, anyway.
“Listen up, lads! I trust all o’ ye are alive an’ well, those of ye that’re standin’?”
Nods and some raspy, parched voices answered his call; eight of the nine pirates were up and about, one still lying face-down in the sand. However, nobody, including Baruth, seemed to have noticed him, since he was quite a bit far off from the main group of survivors and dangerously close to the waves, the sea threatening to crash over him at any second. Baruth continued with his speech.
“Listen up! This young lad ‘ere is carrying water an’ fresh fruit! Now now, SETTLE DOWN!”
His yell halted three of the survivors, each of which had drawn their cutlasses, and drew the attention of the rest that were fumbling around, looking around for theirs.
“This nice young lad also saved me life. He wants us all ta pay fer th’ food an’ drinks. Show me what money ye have, lads! I have...yep, still there...ten o’ these, I think, dunno if you’ve seen ‘em before...”
Baruth pulled out a small pouch from inside his jerkin, a drawstring tightly binding its mouth, fastened to the inside of his clothes by a thin rope. From inside the pouch he fished out a shimmering gold coin, the sunlight dancing off its reflective surface.
“I always keep a few dubloons on me, in the special case that I hafta buy somethin’ on the fly. How many are ye askin’ for? These’re real gold, worth a pretty sum.”
He bit down on the coin to prove his statement, and offered the pouch to RED. However, while this was happening, the ninth pirate’s life force, the one way out near the waves, began to decline. The ocean had finally caught him. Being unconscious and face-down, he was drowning rapidly. Unless someone did something right now, not even all the gold in the world was going to save him.
max: Boy, the site really went downhill... Surprised you two are still here, but fear not, I have returned!
Jun 6, 2018 22:47:16 GMT -5
snowman: Welcome back.
Jun 6, 2018 23:29:23 GMT -5
max: So anyone got hold of the admin? See if they're willing to transfer control to one of us, unless you two love birds wanna be the only ones on this site
Jun 7, 2018 15:10:00 GMT -5
snowman: Tried a while back when I posted to one of her threads, but hadn't heard anything
Jun 7, 2018 17:29:04 GMT -5
max: Did you try messaging her on Discord?
Jun 7, 2018 17:48:34 GMT -5
snowman: I tagged her I believe correctly and nothing.
Jun 7, 2018 23:53:53 GMT -5
max: Hm, I'll see if I can get a hold of her
Jun 8, 2018 0:05:26 GMT -5
The skin OTHERWORLD was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
GONNA MARRY THE NIGHT was created by PANDA. The sample background image was created by MOGUMO.
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