Post by High Tide on Mar 10, 2020 22:44:53 GMT -5
Darkness.
A canopy of leaves stretching overhead.
Silence.
Perfect.
Only the wind dared intrude here, deep, deep in the forest. It rustled his coat maintaining a seemingly effortless silence. After all, even Mother Nature knew better than to disturb sacred places. To the enigma known as High Tide, there was few places more sacred.
The only light here was that which was carried in, in this case a small lantern Tide held in his left hand. He knew the path and could've walked it in the pitch dark if he had been forced to, even though he had travelled it only a small handful of times beforehand. This was not a trek that was taken on a whim, but one that required a deeper sense of purpose. A purpose that High Tide had evidently found. It was good though that he carried light in with him, for it had been some time since his last journey. There was some overgrowth, but it wasn't rampant like it had been the first time he had made this sacred walk.
He pushed some of overgrowing leaves aside, even going so far as to pull out his trusty knife out of one of his deep pockets to hack some of it away. If he didn't maintain it, no one would. He had learned that the hard way. It turned out most pirates were pretty lazy, and he didn't want to think too hard about whether he was or not either. He showed up when it was important and that was more than most pirates. It was something at least.
Soon the object of his desire came into view. A wooden structure very ornately carved. The four legs it stood on were interwoven like snakes slithering and winding their way up to form the piece holding the top of in place. The top was less fancy, as it was common to be when it was anything constructed by pirates. Carved of the same wood but with much less care was a flat table top, straight unclean lines unlike the ornate carved snake legs. Set upon it was a bowl, a plain nondescript wooden bowl. Yes, this was the shrine he was looking for. He had made it.
As he stepped forward he reached into one of his many pockets and took out the offering. It was a cloth but not just any cloth. A cloth specific to the pirate who made the journey. Whether it be the ship he served, or a family crest, it had to be specific to the pirate who made the offering. For Tide it was his family crest, well, just his technically as he was the first generation of Pirate in the family that he knew of, but nonetheless it was near and dear to him. It was a copy of the original of course, but that would suffice. Dipped in rum he had thought would make a nice touch and leave no doubt that it was a worthy offering.
Placing it in the bowl, he lit it on fire and knelt before it. “I desire a vision, a vision of what may come and what I must do to see it fufilled. Oh Pirate Gods, too numerous too name, but unforgettable all the same, I beseech thee to grant me vision! Grant me sight so I can see what my eyes may not see!” Tide spoke slowly and methodically but not without emotion. It may have been a very specific and word for word perfect phrase that must be uttered, but he meant ever damn word of it.
Now all he could do was wait, wait for the experience to take him if the Pirate Gods so chose to bless him. This was too crucial a time in his life to not take the risk of rejection. If he was not answered then so be it, he could handle the sting of being rejected by those who were holy. What he couldn't handle was failure. With Wasp and Trouble at his side, the next Trauma meant everything to him. This was where he either failed or succeeded. Whether his ship sank or sailed in a manner of speaking. It wasn't even the match with Willard that was on his mind. Being the Underground King? Small change. No t his was bigger than a match, or a title. This was about being a changing force, a driving force, something that was looked back in history as more than a blip or a “run”. This was about change, not gold. Wasn't that something, a pirate with a bigger cause than the shiniest thing he could find.
And so the visions hit him.
His body twitched violently.
Screaming.
Loss of control.
Understanding.
Hope
Perfect.
A canopy of leaves stretching overhead.
Silence.
Perfect.
Only the wind dared intrude here, deep, deep in the forest. It rustled his coat maintaining a seemingly effortless silence. After all, even Mother Nature knew better than to disturb sacred places. To the enigma known as High Tide, there was few places more sacred.
The only light here was that which was carried in, in this case a small lantern Tide held in his left hand. He knew the path and could've walked it in the pitch dark if he had been forced to, even though he had travelled it only a small handful of times beforehand. This was not a trek that was taken on a whim, but one that required a deeper sense of purpose. A purpose that High Tide had evidently found. It was good though that he carried light in with him, for it had been some time since his last journey. There was some overgrowth, but it wasn't rampant like it had been the first time he had made this sacred walk.
He pushed some of overgrowing leaves aside, even going so far as to pull out his trusty knife out of one of his deep pockets to hack some of it away. If he didn't maintain it, no one would. He had learned that the hard way. It turned out most pirates were pretty lazy, and he didn't want to think too hard about whether he was or not either. He showed up when it was important and that was more than most pirates. It was something at least.
Soon the object of his desire came into view. A wooden structure very ornately carved. The four legs it stood on were interwoven like snakes slithering and winding their way up to form the piece holding the top of in place. The top was less fancy, as it was common to be when it was anything constructed by pirates. Carved of the same wood but with much less care was a flat table top, straight unclean lines unlike the ornate carved snake legs. Set upon it was a bowl, a plain nondescript wooden bowl. Yes, this was the shrine he was looking for. He had made it.
As he stepped forward he reached into one of his many pockets and took out the offering. It was a cloth but not just any cloth. A cloth specific to the pirate who made the journey. Whether it be the ship he served, or a family crest, it had to be specific to the pirate who made the offering. For Tide it was his family crest, well, just his technically as he was the first generation of Pirate in the family that he knew of, but nonetheless it was near and dear to him. It was a copy of the original of course, but that would suffice. Dipped in rum he had thought would make a nice touch and leave no doubt that it was a worthy offering.
Placing it in the bowl, he lit it on fire and knelt before it. “I desire a vision, a vision of what may come and what I must do to see it fufilled. Oh Pirate Gods, too numerous too name, but unforgettable all the same, I beseech thee to grant me vision! Grant me sight so I can see what my eyes may not see!” Tide spoke slowly and methodically but not without emotion. It may have been a very specific and word for word perfect phrase that must be uttered, but he meant ever damn word of it.
Now all he could do was wait, wait for the experience to take him if the Pirate Gods so chose to bless him. This was too crucial a time in his life to not take the risk of rejection. If he was not answered then so be it, he could handle the sting of being rejected by those who were holy. What he couldn't handle was failure. With Wasp and Trouble at his side, the next Trauma meant everything to him. This was where he either failed or succeeded. Whether his ship sank or sailed in a manner of speaking. It wasn't even the match with Willard that was on his mind. Being the Underground King? Small change. No t his was bigger than a match, or a title. This was about being a changing force, a driving force, something that was looked back in history as more than a blip or a “run”. This was about change, not gold. Wasn't that something, a pirate with a bigger cause than the shiniest thing he could find.
And so the visions hit him.
His body twitched violently.
Screaming.
Loss of control.
Understanding.
Hope
Perfect.
