poly_chromatic | Entry 600; Day 1277

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godchild - cain hargreaves

Entry 600; Day 1277

[Filtered from Known DELILAH Members || Unhackable]
A second day aboard this ship. It's now late afternoon, perhaps early evening, on this second day. It's a marvelous ship, I will say that. It's as fine as any of the great vessels that set out between Britain and the Continent, or even Britain and the Americas. Perhaps it's even more fine than those. I think it must not have its like anywhere--perhaps in any world, and wouldn't the 'deities' be fond of such an idea as that?

Still, it cannot be what it seems. I know that much.

Given what I've seen in my time in the City and its curses, I would have expected the worst to have struck last night. The ship ought to have collided with something, sunk, been beset by pirates, or attacked by a sea-monster by now. By now we all ought to be rushing for the lifeboats or using bits of the ship to fend off our would-be attackers. And yet, there's nothing.

But I suppose there's still time for all that, even now. Perhaps we're meant to celebrate for one day and suffer for the second. But the time left for that is growing short. And I am most certainly watching for what might come of it.

But there's something more and--if not worse, then certainly more curious going on aboard this ship. I won't say more than that. I have my theories, though-- My father is yet in the City and he may have someone aboard this ship-- But I have my tasks too, strange as they are-- There are questions to be answered, to be sure-- Riff, I'm going to take a chance--

Well, it's been a pleasant enough voyage, I suppose, if a little rough. My fellow passengers could be a little more accommodating or polite as well. It doesn't surprise me that they aren't, the City being what it is.

So, here I sit for a second day.

I will say that I am looking forward to midnight tonight. ~~But another close call like that between now and then-- Who is he?--~~

~C.

[ooc: Strike-outs are deleted! Cain is currently targeting Isaak Sirko in the course of all the boat-related shenanigans and Isaak is targeting him. And each may now have a notion that the other is after him (maybe). The point is: gentlemen in eveningwear having immense bloodstained battles. It's the best. Right now he's holed up in his room, tending to a few scratches and near-misses, and scheming.]

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You're on that ship, too? Glad I'm not on one, this year. Last year I was locked in a closet when the ship went down.

Even if nothing's happened yet, be careful, okay?

You're one of the fortunate ones, I think. Especially if you were locked in a closet last time.

I will be, of course. Is everything well back in the City?

Yeah. Everything seems fine.

And I can't find the ship, of course. Not really surprised....

To be quite honest, I think I'd be more surprised if you could find it.

[He frowns.] Yeah. But I don't like this. Being separated from people I care about. While they're on a ship.

Edited 2013-04-15 00:18 (UTC)

Well, it does put us in a rather precarious situation. It's not the same as when we're all together in the City.

When we are, I feel like I can at least, maybe, do something. Like this...I don't know what to do.

Yes, I know. I suppose we're on our own out here now.

Yeah, and I don't like that. Stuff like that never leads anywhere good in this place.

Maybe the deities have decided to torment us on a smaller scale.

Now that is a cheering thought, isn't it?

I do what I can.

And we do thank you for it, of course.

[This is nothing personal. That's the honest truth. Isaak would just as soon kill a stranger, if he's to kill someone, and Cain seemed like a suitable mark. He's not been as desperate to go home as some in this City are; but there is a task awaiting him, there. One worth completing.

He's down the corridor now, catching his breath and biding his time.]

[It's some time later that Cain emerges from his room--all his wounds bandaged and hidden, his hair combed neatly, no tears in this jacket, nor any sign of anything being amiss.

No sign, at least.

He's watching, and carefully.]

[Though he would not call himself a virtuous man, patience is one quality he has long cultivated; that, like all else, is a matter of practicality. And so he has been waiting.

His own wounds are hastily bound up, and though he's a bit less put-together than Cain at the moment, chances are no one would give him a second glance. (Of course, he suspects he's not the only one on this particular ship with unkind intentions; perhaps everyone else simply thinks the better of questioning his presence, here.

Hearing footsteps, he slows his breath, shifts his grip on his gun. It's not personal. But he absolutely intends to follow through.]

[Now is not the time to be unaware of one's surroundings--all stinging cuts and potential bruises aside. Now is not the time to let one's attention wander.

It is not for another to kill him. No. His father swore to that. He is Cain and he likewise bears the Mark of Cain and should another kill him, that man will suffer his father's vengeance seven times over. And he himself had sworn that he would be the one to kill his father.

And so this lesser battle should not be at all.

But, still, the weight of his revolver pulls at his jacket...]

[Isaak, of all people, can respect that. He is only here because he comprehends the vital importance of vengeance; because if he must, he will move heaven and earth, will move the City as well, to take a particular life. It is his right to do so.

Cain is merely incidental; collateral damage, really, and though Isaak would understand (and, really, respect) his father's right to seek his life, he expects to be gone, when he succeeds.

(When rather than if, because Isaak is not one to doubt himself.)

He estimates and aims at what ought to be the right height for the young man's head, as soon as he passes this corner.]

[Cain is not one to believe in fortune or fate or destiny or even luck. It is by pure chance, then, that he chooses to check in his pocket for some incidental and unnecessary thing--a coin, a key, a slip of paper. But with the scrapes and bruises already on him, it obliges him to lean more than he otherwise would. It is pure chance that makes him bend his head just a little.]

[Chance is such an ugly thing; but it can't be denied. Isaak is too eager to wait-- though he knows he ought to-- and he shoots that moment too soon, those few inches off.]

[That was too close for Cain's liking. Far too close. Even those few inches are just a little too much. And he dives for the floor, pulling his own gun from his pocket as he does and searching for who it was who fired at him.]

[There aren't many options, and quiet and patient as he is Isaak is also big; too tall to hide very effectively.

Cursing under his breath he readies himself for a second shot...]

[Cain, meanwhile, ducks into another doorway. It isn't much shelter, but it's something. All the while, he searches--

--ah. So there's where the shot came from. Fair enough.]

[He's a better shot than this. He is, fundamentally; poor luck is a poor excuse.

He shoots again, but the angle's too off; the doorframe splinters a bit but he expects thar's not even a graze. Damn, damn, damn.]

[Cain still crouches back (cowers, perhaps? no, not quite) as far as he can in the doorframe. The splinters alone are far too close.

A period of silence is kept.

And then, from within his frail and insufficient shelter:]

I really must ask you, you know: did my father send you? You needn't lie. He and I both know what we're about.

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Sorry this is late--I unstarred the notif before I'd actually replied D:

No worries I am such a slowpoke I can neverr complain

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