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Instant Bad Buisness, Just Add Water [Closed]

Started by massimo scaffaldi, July 22, 2015, 02:33:19 PM

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massimo scaffaldi

A fog bank rolls unassumingly over the docks amidst the chorus of night creatures and heads back to sea as quick as it came.  Leaving behind a defeated looking shirtless man in blood soaked breeches staring down at the frothy sea on the shoddy dock where he finally greets the land after nine long months.




Nine months at sea surrounded by forced friendly faces in cramped quarters has I'll effects on most people.  Massimo had known a few, boys eager to become men and kind men looking for a place to live beyond the world they know.  Both are drawn to the powerful ocean, ever moving and never ending.  Little do they realize, they're not the first to have this idea.  Better men than they had braved the sea only to devolve into vicious mindless monsters, addicted to suffering and survival.  The ocean is full of such fearsome beasts, unforgiving climates and undrinkable water.  While a place with an abundance of life, there is so much more death to be found at the hands of such an unforgiving witch.  If not at the hands of some monstrous creature, the ill waters, or the men who strive to survive there by any means necessary; then by the withering of a man's own mind.  The crippling loneliness, the miles of featureless water offering no bearings, or the crushing realization that the only thing between you and an early grave is the rotting boards beneath your feet.  All of it is a constant strain for a sizable fraction of a person's life, just to go from one place to another.  Only to find you will be suffering the same fate on your return home.

To Massimo, this mattered little.  It had been some time since he cared about the life of anyone, even his own life.  For a much greater strain had been thrust upon him then he was ever ready to bear.  Reality was his to define, to mold at will to whatever suited his needs or desires.  Any person he had ever met, any words he had ever heard, any food he had ever eaten would appear before him at his whim.  All his to control until he awoke the next morning to live the same fate.  What then, if anything at all was real.  It has been so long since it was clear to him what was and what was not, the he simply could not remember.  To live any life he cared to at the time, seemed to not actually be living at all.  So he would continue to dream until he finally wakes, until then only whimsy would be his drive.

Massimo took a long look at the sea and did an about face on his heels.  He dawned the guise of a dapper gentleman as he slicked back his hair, and began marching toward the town.
 
"Time to get to work."

sophos

The Dapper Carp ebbed with a passing wave but a depression in the crest of the rolling water was the only indication of the vessel's existence. Roland stood at the bow with his eye in a spyglass, peering past the veil of glamour at the man on the beach. Who soon adorned a glamour of his own and began strutting up the sand towards town.

Time to get to work, I guess. The thought drifted through Roland's mind like the wind through the hoisted sails above, tugging at something tied down for the day. He would have time for musings later if hadn't lost his edge.

Roland slapped shut the spyglass and a nearby sailor held out a leather justacorp as tired and tan as Roland himself. He stuffed the spyglass in a pocket, turned round, lifted his arms back, and was helped into the coat. The cold leather felt wet against Roland's bare skin and the sea's salt somehow found its way all over his person. He would miss it once ashore, but not the scene that painted the deck at the moment; painted it red.

Corpses-- stacked in loose piles-- each went through the process of being stripped for goods, slaughtered for organs, and then stuffed into barrels. The barrels were hauled to the stern, or some were simply tossed starboard. Blood was mopped into the center grate, where they fell two decks; into the heart of the massive, ironclad trade vessel.

Roland's lips curled into a snarl at the grotesque mess before him and let out toneless, airy bark. When the crew continued about there business, he lifted one of the many whistles he wore around his neck and gave it two puffs.

The crew slowed to a crawl and held Roland in their gazes.

"Mate Bentoncourt. Going to shore are we?" asked a young, one-handed deck-swabber.

Roland nodded and gave a the crew a series of hand signals, punctuating with various whistles.

"You heard him, dogs!" Bellowed the Quartermaster, the weathered man who held Roland's coat. "Stop chumming the waters, pick up a mop or head to the boiler deck, and someone ready a rower!"

Roland turned away from the scurrying crew and back towards the beach. As he glared at the new land before him, another familiar thought came to mind. I need a vacation.

massimo scaffaldi

Massimo walked the vacant street behind a series of warehouses along the docks.  Subtle chatter from the nearby houses barely masked his footsteps as he approached the central shipping yard.  A sizable building caught his eye, at least four floors and plenty of storage.  Seemed like a perfect place to begin the operation.  As he gave a slight nod in confirmation, Roland crept out of the shadows and joined him.

"This place should be as good as any, at least there's a lot of room for improvement.  Are the boys ashore?"

Roland pointed one of his apish fingers skyward and then rotated his hand in jerking, clockwise ticks.

"Good enough I suppose.  How should we proceed then?"

The creases around Roland's eyes deepened as he engaged Massimo in a stare that soon broke away and drifted across the street ahead of them before snapping back to Massimo.

"Well, how about the classic Cobbler Flip and Shift?"

Roland raised a hand and wrapped it around his face, from nose to chin.

Massimo scratched his chin as he pondered Roland's objection.  "True, not enough dancing girls around.  How about the old Mechanical Elephant Maze?"

After a moment of motionless pondering, Roland bared both rows of his yellowed teeth.

"Ah yes, all those wild animals will bring down the property value quite a bit.  Can't have that."

Roland clasped his right hand over the other and then slowly raised the top, keeping them joined at the palm heels.

"The Clam-a-pult!? We're opening a business, not sacking a capital."  Massimo paused a moment to make sure his next plan was a winning strategy.  "Flag's Gambit never fails."

Roland let out a sigh.

"Right, too many people complaining about the hole in the ground."

Roland drew a heavy breath and then hissed as he clouted the bare of chest twice.

"No one likes us that much-- yet.  And one too many wild animals again. How about the Wishing Chair?"

Roland tugged one of the loose threads from his coat collar, undoing a few more stitches of the cheap embroidery.

"That's right, we used all that silk to dress up Balduin for his wedding anniversary. The Phoenix's Nest Switch?"  Massimo shrugged as he ran out of options.

Roland squinted, then with no further objection gave Massimo a thumbs up in approval.

"Forged in fire it is then.  Today we're burning, tomorrow we're earning." 

As soon as his words were spoken, the warehouse erupted into roaring flames.  Bystanders scrambled to throw water onto the steadfast inferno into the early hours of the morning.

sophos

Roland leered at the scene of townsfolk desperately dumping buckets of water onto a mockery of flames. Even so, the fire unsettled his nerves. He turned his back to the warehouse and began trekking back to the beach, keeping in mind that the crew were likely far from ready to go ashore.

Massimo can handle everything just fine-- we've done this countless times before. The thought resonated in Roland's mind, like the scrape of his boots against dirt and rock beneath them. This is a quiet enough town. There will be no need for my muscle anytime soon and, if there is, Massimo knows how to contact me.

As he trudged along, Roland payed close attention to the surrounding buildings and quaint roads. He gave the view of the docks and shipping yard extra attention. In due time, no one would recognize any of it.

Roland stepped onto the sandy beach and gazed over the incoming tide. The armoured beast of a ship bobbed behind an otherworldly, false fog. The crew had two rowing boats ashore now, and the handful of sailors on the beach hailed him.

"Mate Bentoncourt, back so soon?" asked the Quartermaster. "We haven't time to raise a single tent. Half the dogfish are still gamb-- I mean, bickering over the recent raids' loot."

Roland lifted his brow a fraction of a centimeter.

"Clothing and boots mostly, as they want to look respectable in town." He rolled his shoulders back and hooked his thumbs into a fine, navy doublet. "As per Captain Flynn's orders, of course."

Roland nodded and then looked back towards the town, a column of smoke rising into the night sky and obscuring low stars.

Roland patted his hips, turned back to his Quartermaster, and tapped a finger against the leftmost whistle strung around his neck.

"A- Aye, Bentoncourt." The Quartermaster turned to a young, clean-shaven man with dark skin. "Jaleel, the First Mate wants his belt and he wants the tents ashore."

"Of course," Jaleel said, and spent another moment examining a chart and scratching his bald head.

"Now!"

"Of course!" The young navigator hastily stuffed the chart in his rucksack, hopped into a boat, and positioned himself to row.

Roland helped another crewman push the boat out to sea. He watched the boat drift towards the Dapper Carp and breathed deeply of the ocean air.

It was saltier than usual, with a hint of iron.

massimo scaffaldi

The flames finally died down and still red coals smoldered from the remnants of the ruined warehouse.  The owner sat distraught with his face in his hands a few feet from the site.  Spirit broken and too tired from fighting the flames to be angry, he scoured the debris with his eyes for any sign of where to go from here.  Massimo strolled up from his right and sat beside him holding a small chest under his arm.  He placed his hand on the poor man's shoulder as he spoke.

"That's some terrible luck there, how much were the stores worth?"

Too depressed to care, the owner exhaled a miserable moan before responding.

"More than I can afford, the building itself wasn't even worth that much."

Massimo tossed the chest at his feet and kicked it open, revealing a small sum in gold bullion. The warehouse owner's eyes lit up at the sight of the chest set before him.

"I will only make this offer once, take the gold and offer me the land this heap is sitting on as well as the dock.  No questions, no second thoughts, you just keep your payment and keep walking till you find a place where nobody even knows you."

The owner knew something was off about this man, but he had very few options at this point.  Everything he had was in his business, and he would end up dead if his investors or the men expecting their goods today came expecting more than hands full of ashes.  He reached down, grabbed the chest and stood up with a sigh of relief as he sought comfort in his own reflection in the glorious gold bars.  Snapping back to reality, he produced an envelope from his pocket and placed it in Massimo's hand.

"The title to the dock and the land surrounding it as you asked, and thank you mister..."

"Flynn.  Have better days."

The previous owner tipped his nonexistent hat and hurried off.  Moments later, a serene young woman plopped down next to Massimo and stared at the still glowing embers.

"Flynn honey, why did you give him real gold?"

Massimo breathed in the smoke filled air and leaned against the signpost behind him.

"It was getting heavy."

As he closed his eyes, he mimicked the sound of Roland's whistle and waited for his arrival with the crew.

sophos

Roland ear twitched at the sound of a distant whistle, and he lurched through the hide door of his as secured his belt around his waist. Immediatley after him followed Tanya with his coat, and as she helped him into it a few others wandered out of their tents.

Once he had an arm through a a sleeve, Roland took up two centermost whistles and blew them simultainiously. This culled all manner on groans and cries from within the tents, but soon enough there was a party of well dressed sailors standing upon the sand.

Roland lumbered into the town in the company of two dozen crewman, and led them to warehouse where Massimo awaited them.

As Roland approached, Massimo was lounging as usual while Claire adorned his head with a flower wreath. Once he became aware of Roland's arrival, he stood and made himself decent as Claire strolled off out of view.

The crew carried rolled up sails and ladders to wrap the building for the next phase of the plan.  Others held rigging and the important cargo that would be kept at the warehouse. Potted plants, gold and gems for trade, and boxes of logs and manifests detailing the cargo carried by the rest of the fleet. Massimo grabbed one of the boxes from a deck hand and stood upon it.

"Alright boys, this isn't your first time playing this game. Get those sheets bound around the entire building. I don't even want a breath of air passing through!" He glanced over at Roland. "I'll get the keystone once they finish with this. Take a load off; you look beat."

Massimo walked towards the shore to find an adequate stone for his enchantment as the crew hurried to get the structure secured.

Roland watched as Massimo sauntered towards the shore, and tapped a sailor on the shoulder. He pointed two, prodigious fingers at his own stalwart eyes and then at Massimo.

The gruff fellow needed a moment, but understood before their Captain got too far. The sailor turned and kept a watch out for Massimo's return.Roland took his place hauling wares and raising canvas sheets.

In less than ten minutes they had the "rubble" of the warehouse boxed in square sheets between four, wooden masts and this stage of the plan complete. Roland whistled for drinks to be passed around, and the crew shouted a cheer.

massimo scaffaldi

Massimo paced up and down the beach staring at the sand.  There were plenty of odd shaped stones about, but none seemed to be a suitable keystone for the warehouse.  Various amphibious sea life went on about their business as he flipped stones and disturbed piles of driftwood in his search. 

"You would think nature would be kind enough to throw me a bone once in a while for all the work I do.  This would be so much easier if I could just make a damned stone."

Under a nearby dock, Massimo sighted a number of crab pots with stones for ballasts.  Perhaps one of them would be a better fit.  As he searched the traps, one stone stood out.  It was a nearly perfect rectangle with a small depression on one side.

"Can't beat that, we have a winner."

He pulled the stone swiftly breaking the cage as he did and carried the stone up the beach towards the town.  On his way, he saw a deckhand staring at him from afar.  Roland must have told him to keep watch.  Massimo gripped the stone in his left hand and tore his hand free of his wrist with his right hand.  Still clenching the stone, his severed hand dissolved into the stone turning it a sickly gray hue.  Upon reaching the deckhand, he tossed the newly forged keystone into the air toward him.  Startled, the man scrambled under the stone and caught it.

"Place it in the back wall near the floor.  And for the love of me man, don't damage the thing.  It is very costly thing to make."

The deckhand nodded nervously and stepped carefully inside the warehouse with the stone as Massimo walked over and sat beside Roland.

"It is still quite early.  Do you think there are too many people around to just go ahead and redecorate?"

sophos

Roland watched as Robert, the deckhand, slipped under the canvas and into the warehouse. He took a sip of some unknown concoction that one of the crew had brewed; it was sweet and bitter, like an old fruit rind, but just a bit salty.

As Massimo sat beside him and asked his question, Roland took a few more sips before planning his response.

Roland pointed high, to the Sun, with one hand and pointed two finger at the ground with the other. As he traced the Sun's eventual course in the sky he flicked the two fingers of his other hand, as if it was walking; and the further he plotted the Sun the more busily his hand walked.

massimo scaffaldi

Massimo nodded as he quickly stood up and thrust aside his handless arm.  Through the sleeve, a black substance bubbled and grew into a skeletal hand that was promptly veiled in the from of a silk glove.  He clenched his fist tight and casually stepped toward the warehouse.

"Caution to the wind then, let us give these people something worth waking up to."

The celebrating crew parted at his advance as he traversed the crowded street passed through the shroud engulfing their future headquarters.  Upon entering, the warehouse remained full of stock and in as good of shape as it ever was.  Though a little wet now, the floor was sturdy and well kept considering its routine use.  At the rear of the building, the deckhand was hard at work prying loose a stone from the wall to make room for the keystone.  Eventually, he removed a block and wedged the stone into place.  He jumped as he turned around to find his captain staring him in the face.

"A-already sir?"

"Yes, so you may want to vacate the building."

He had the lad at "yes" as he sprinted for the door to report to Roland and warn the others.  Massimo brushed his hand over the keystone and burned his vision into his mind.  Every fine detail and all of the masterfully crafted metalwork he desired made into one complete blueprint in his mind.  Detaching himself from his body, he made his attempt at projecting it all over the entire complex.

"And so it begins."

sophos

I meant the longer we wait the more people would arrive. Roland thought, trying to ignore the show Massimo was putting on with his hand. But close enough.

Massimo disappeared into the blanketed warehouse, and Robert scurried out like a rat not even a minute later.

Roland grabbed the passing deckhand by the shoulder and then placed the bottle of unknown alcohol in his hands.

From the ware house rose an agonizing screech, which caused a few crewmen-- including Robert-- to spill their drinks over their new attire.  Terrible wails comprised of creaking metal, banging hammers, and a sound akin to to spade dredging a furnace dinned in a chaotic chorus.

More than few passerbys took notice and came to see what the commotion was about. The crew decided their new outfits were not fancy enough, for as the townsfolk drew near enough to see the crew in detail they halted in their tracks. Despite the smiles and offering of drinks the townsfolk would get no closer, with one exception.

A tall women with fair skin and hair waded through the small crowding of townsfolk, with a concerned look. "What is all this? Who are you?" she called out over the din as she broke past the crowd. She stood with a stern brow and a hand on her hip. "I received message that this warehouse burned down and have been riding here ever since. Which of you is in charge and what is that awful noise?

massimo scaffaldi

"That noise?  Why that is the sound of progress and reform!" 

Massimo's booming voice quieted the horrifying sounds plaguing the shoreline.  Everything came to a dull hum before Massimo stepped out from behind the shroud.  He brushed himself off displacing various patches of dust and soot.

"This warehouse is under new management madame.  And if I may be so bold, better management." 

Massimo turned to address the masses.

"Fear not for your shipments fair citizens, the Mister Carp Trading Company has more than enough resources to replace them with the utmost haste for no additional cost for you.  To celebrate our grand opening in your pleasant town, I will suffer the expense of getting your goods to you within a few hours at most.  Tis a small effort on my part to ensure healthy business practice in the coming days."

His message was received, but the citizens were not prepared for a speech and were left confused and delirious from their forced consciousness.  Massimo strolled over to the sails draped over the building and grasped a piece of rigging.

"In the spirit of the Carp, we have taken the liberty of preventing an incident of this nature from repeating itself and made a few improvements to the infrastructure.  Without further delay, I give you the Cerenis Distribution Facility and the future of your fine settlement."

Massimo pulled hard on the rigging causing it to break loose the bindings and let the sails fall quickly to the ground.  No longer concealed, the warehouse was free to shine in the early morning sun.  Long columns of brass and copper decorated the outer walls, bridging gilded crystal windows and a strange black steel base.  Everything was etched with small symbols an patterns, giving it a glorious texture in cooperation with the sun's amber glow.  Upon the roof, the trademark Carp stood gazing over the horizon for all to see.  Along the side of the building, groups of stools met a fine looking bar with pictures of food adorning a long metal list of products.

"My secretary will meet you within to place your orders.  As Mister Flynn, Mister Carp's CEO; I would like to thank you in advance for your business and wish you good fortune in your future endeavors.  I must now bid you farewell to begin my work."

sophos

Roland stretched his back and rolled his shoulders before lumbering after Massimo, reaching for his whistles as he stepped. He took a deep breath and played a series of notes.

A few tones sang, and the crew scrambled to their particular duties. Some began hauling canvas back to the beach, some funneled into the warehouse, some of those carried crates, and a few simply stood about and kept vigilant.

Roland reached Massimo and raised a inquisitive brow.

How shall we continue? The thought drifted in and out of Roland's mind. This time seems different somehow. And I know you are more sensitive to such airs. Will you recoil, or will you tackle it aggressively? Knowing you, probably both in rapid succession. Roland listened past the murmurs of the crowding townsfolk to the distant crashing of water upon the shore. But where on the wave are we now? At the crest or the trough?

massimo scaffaldi

Massimo waved on the crowd with a plastic smile for a moment, then turned to Roland.

"Don't give me that look, you know damn well we were noticed.  All we can hope for is that they do not mobilize against us until it is too late."

His eyes wandered over the crowds and to the window of every building in visible range,  desperately trying to find out who had been watching them since their arrival.  Nothing stood out, nobody suspicious was about.  At a glance all seemed fine, but Massimo knew better.  And so did Roland, this was not the first party they had ever crashed.

"I can't seem to find our admirers anywhere.  Keep vigilant, but stick to the plan.  Have the crew load up the warehouse with our "potted plants", and have them start constructing the building under the mask.  I'd like my hand back some time this year."

He waved his glove clad hand for emphasis.

"Then take a break, tomorrow we shall begin recruiting.  I'll take a look around, call if you need anything."


sophos

Roland sighed; put yet another whistle to his lips; and blew a low, wavering tone that provoked furrowed brows and mischievous smirks from various crewman.

The trough then. Roland thought as he lurched to and through the warehouse door, never looking back at the crowd or alleys. Good, nowhere to go but up now.

Once inside, he found a group of sailors who's faces brightened at his sight and then dimmed with the knowledge that they now have to work. They needed Roland's piercing, incorruptible eyes to complete their tasks and he wasted only a little time directing them to it.

Two words drifted through Roland's mind as he began his whistle-blowing. Recruiting... Service...

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