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BRING IT (2)
Let there be light!
Enjoy!

Also, expect more vague and random scenes like that with my posts. They all have meaning! ;]
Salvatore Kiernen King. He was a man of loose muscle and sharp features, with thin black hair that came to a crisp flip at the bangs, and delicate light eyebrows that he swore he didn't pluck. Sal was a handsome man; the kind of handsome that started fights between highschool girls and made them argue over whose hidden passionate love would transcend more boundaries than the other's. He'd been fired countless times for this, and legally he couldn't do anything about it. Was it wrongful termination to discharge him for being too handsome? Perhaps. Was it wrongful termination to discharge him for being the cause of an infinite amount of broken noses and collapsed teenage egos and angry mothers? Perhaps it still was. He couldn't afford a good enough lawyer to argue it for him, however. So Salvatore Kiernen King became jobless.

Sal didn't have much else to do besides teach. He was an unnaturally gifted athlete with good hair and strong genes, but he was not into sports. He was intelligent, too-- beyond simple arithmetic and general education. He could've easily been hired by one of his friends or gone back to college for another degree, but unfortunately those things did not fit Sal either. He knew he'd have to keep looking for a job doing what he loved, but it would have to be something out of the ordinary. Something perhaps as strange as he was.

It was eleven, now. Perhaps anticlimactic, but no bells sounded with this stroking of the hour. In fact, everything seemed silent. Strange's magic popped like a bubble, letting the city overwhelm him and the group in a sudden gush of noise and emotion. He watched Clarissa suddenly sprint away, adamant on maintaining her independence, but the Hour of Unluck gave her no favors. Strange hoped the crash wouldn't be painful, for when his magic crumpled, the city reappeared in full with its inhabitants-- including an intimidatingly large man who stood suddenly in front of Clarissa as her momentum peaked.

The rest of the group, to Strange's brief relief, exchanged names and introductions. That was a start; hopefully it would be enough.

Strange turned toward Smith, acknowledging him with a smile from the heavens. The man's comments had initially put Strange on edge, but instead they warmed his broken heart and left the strange man with the straw hat hopeful for long enough to matter. "You are a good man, Smith. Just like the rest of them. I am putting you in charge of this operation. Find Kresnik, he will guide you."

Walking forward, Strange found his way toward a glittering fountain that was actually the landmark that drew the group together. Atop it stood the famous Angel of the Waters, proud and erect. Strange slid his fingers up and down a small stretch of hieroglyphics at its base, spitting at it and rubbing thick red rust away in miniature gratings. He turned toward Smith and the group, who he assumed now would be hearing a painful thumping in their ears, which would progressively get worse as they waited in the city.

"You must enter the fountain. You will come out the other side, wet but safe. Find Kresnick from there. As I've said, I am deeply sorry for this. But you all do not have a choice."

The thumping intensified to a point where thinking became a cruel torture for them. Strange, hoping to expedite the process, grabbed the nearest of the group and shoved them hard toward the fountain. Or into it.
Bento Belo stared upward into the shifting sky as the ship set sail. Initially he'd heard it before he felt it; the grinding of wood, the sputtering of waves, the shouting of hurried sailors. The physical part came soon after; the weightlessness of a boat at sea, the bobbing of the floor deck. The sudden need to adapt a new method of balance. It was an ecstasy similar to what was, Ben was sure, documented at least twice in "Meditations on First Philosophy". Of course, just like anything else described in the book, it was a shortly lived feeling, and it left immediately, leaving Ben hungry, bored, and regretful. Not nearly a day into his voyage and already he longed for his lowly inn with his lowly customers in his lowly town. Ben was a haggler. A broker. He'd tagged along partly out of rashness, but mostly because of his interest in the Captain. Well, his Captain, now.

Ben spent his remaining time stalking along the shadows of the ship, writing in a pocket journal any information he found interesting about the crew. He was found and accosted by the ship's crew more than a few times, and often shoved a sponge or bucket or errand that he didn't mind laboring for. Ben did not mind being put to work, for he was scum as much as his fake limp and cane tried to disagree, and he knew the value of a useful man. Work would, however, have to wait until he had his leverage and secrets stored up.

Soon the ship transformed into something of a feast, with conversation and discussions flowing out like water. Ben stuffed a few spice rolls in his mouth, took a sip of some honeyed tea whose ethnicity he couldn't recognize, and grabbed a giant misshaped Pêra Rocha before he was out taking advantage. He wasn't sure where to go anymore, he had to be frank. He deeply wanted to begin his digging on the Captain as soon as possible, but Ben had to stay prudent until he learned more about the man. Best not to risk his life while his home was still in sight on the horizon. Secondly, Ben wanted to check in on his father. His men (though now they were his equals, serving Emilio as he was) were scattered about, mingling with the other sailors as if they had a past life as a mermaid that Ben Jr. had not before known about. This, of course, meant that his father was on his own, and most likely was getting into trouble somewhere, but Ben didn't want to face that man yet. He just hoped he didn't run out of liquor for a while.

Instead, Ben turned his attention to the older woman with the twins. She seemed...out of it, perhaps not used to life at sea. Or just unsociable and had too many responsibilities. Nevertheless, Ben strode forward and made his best effort to accidentally bump into her.

"Ah- my apologies," He blushed red, waving his cane about frantically in the air, "I didn't see you there!"
Expect a post tomorrow, boys and girls
I shall get a post up tomorrow
Sorry to hear, Traitor.

Your router died brave :(
"im gunna nuke u all wit lots of magik" - Smith trying to simplify in the future

Also, no problem Tali, I'm busy with school too, so I feel your pain.

Just the occassional reminder from everyone that they might be slower one week or are about to post is what I'm asking for, to keep things smooth
Yeah, writer's block can be a bitch :(

Great to hear, team!
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