Cassius Sinclair The Kraken Cassius had found a spot to sit by the docks, watching the pirates, revolutionaries and various vagrants mill about. He had even observed Marine units wandering the docks, though less as security and more as simple visitors to the area, perhaps using Baltigo as a pit stop on a journey. Though the three factions didn't seem to intermingle, they didn't cause one another much trouble either. It seemed there was an unspoken agreement between all to only cause trouble if they were prepared to face the full wrath of Baltigo's underworld. The longer Cassius stayed on the island, the more he learned of these silent, unspoken rules and agreements among its citizens. In the past few days, since his meeting with Ursa and his brawl in the Blood Bowl, he had learned more about the secret world he never knew existed than he knew about his own island back home, under the sea. The reach such an unorganized organization had was truly inspiring and yet horribly terrifying. For the right price everything was provided, yet piss off the wrong person with the right connections and a judgement far worse than anything the World Government could doll out would be brought upon you swiftly. It made his scales itch as he sat at the bench, watching workers, pirates, marines, revolutionaries and general vagrants mill about. He sat back, relaxing a bit but still on guard nonetheless, it was simply his default frame of mind. Though he had no reason to fear for his life, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease he had around humans at all times. Perhaps one day he'd be able to sit calmly amongst them, not because of some fabeled peace agreement or wide-sweeping acceptance of his kind, but because he carried a certain degree of clout, enough to turn away anyone who would dare insult him. Reaching into his coat pocket, Cassius pulled out his pipe and a single match. Raising it to his beard, the tendrils lifted the end to his mouth as he ignited the match with a snap of his fingers and brought the small flame to the basin of the pipe. A few short puffs of smoke later and he sighed heavily, smoke escaping through his mouth like a small nimbus. His beard held his pipe, a single tendril wrapped around it while his arms lay outstretched across the back of the bench. He tilted his head back, staring up at the azure sky. It was a beautiful day, lofty white clouds floated high and leisurely without even the faintest notion of a storm. His exhales of smoke twisting upward, reaching higher and higher to join their brethren but extinguishing to nothing long before they got so high. The sun shined brightly, warming Cassius's cold blood and a stiff but warm breeze rushed across the surface of the water, keeping the air moving and full of life even in such a thick crowd of people. It was a beautiful day and yet, in the pit of his stomach, something told him it'd be an unforgettable one all the same. Whether that was for better or worse remained to be seen. WORDS: 529 TAGS: --- NOTES: --- |
Last edited by Faust on Sun Jul 15, 2018 7:22 pm; edited 1 time in total