Reforging of Murtock Reave

[02:13] The Flame herald gave a grunt of agreement with that settlement. His gaze shifted back to the smoke rings he'd blown out earlier. Watching them float up to smash against the ship's roof.

"I'm guessing Vesper wants to focus. Surgery's hard, I know I've assisted with it before. One wrong move and you could mess up a mana pathway or some tendon..." As he trailed off he'd purse his lips and blow a few smoke arrows up towards the last smoke ring. Like an archery competition.
(Gajin)
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[02:13] Maertock Reave says, "Okay."
[02:14] Maertock Reave says, "We're about ready to start the surgery. Everyone will need to do a part in holding him down."
[02:14] Maertock Reave says, "It will not be pretty."
[02:14] Maertock Reave says, "This is an eye and internal job."
[02:15] Gajin says, "Right."
[02:15] Yana says, "Okay."
[02:15] Maertock would nod steadily.

"Okay, it's time."
(Maertock Reave)
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[02:15] Vesper says, "Come."
[02:15] Vesper asks, "Gajin?"
[02:15] Vesper asks, "Other?"
[02:16] Gajin says, "They're an air head... Might try to chew on the tools."
[02:20] As Vesper reentered with the others Murtock reached into his pack to draw out a particular Mirror, "Yer payment fer services rendered." He said slowly, "The Shaman o' Moxtli, D'noxa', she told me that me soul be bound t'it."

It was extended toward him, "Wit' yer magics y'prolly able t'come t'me or bring me t'you anytime y'need." The deeper implications he left hidden. "I can't be Murtock Reave.. If I be bound t'another force, unable t'leave this life."

A smear of blood covered the glass and within was a shady image of the Sirenian himself, "Fer all y'done. An' all ye will be doin' fer us." Once it was taken he leaned back with a sigh.

"I'm ready t'become what I was meant t'be."
(Murtock Reave)
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[02:21] Vesper takes it, only to store it down to the side with a single nod to come through. The man was defeated today, but through defeat, there was a way for perfection to start to come through.

Even though they were more than a man -- and was mostly shark, they were capable of amazing things, and such things would have to be explored in his own time. Though, for now, Vesper would focus intensely on the notion of healing.

But what was wrong with them, entirely? "What are the damages?"
(Vesper)
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[02:23] Though Yana planned to become a medic, it was very different seeing procedures done on strangers when compared to being one of the people helping someone who she had enygmatic feelings towards to.

As Murtock passed the mysterious blood-stained Mirror to Vesper, the Ookami could only watch as another unknown process unfolded before her eyes. "You... Were immortal, is that so?"
(Yana)
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[02:25] Maertock would take a firm swig from his bottle of Valmasian Rum as he glanced over the scene; a thoughtful click of his serrated rows of teeth echoing forth as he glanced over his brother's wounded form. It was clear that today was the day he at last got a bit of medical experience; the ship needed a sawbones after all.

Not to mention, his pursuits in necroratsy would likely be aided by a further mastery of biology. That did tend to help when it came down to it. there was a lot of work that would need to be put in to stir he who did not stir; it all began with baby steps of bionic sharks.

Extending his shadow in a claw, Maertock would prepare to aid in the surgey by holding his brother down with his own occultic might; a benefit of his shadowy pursuits into dark lore.

"My shadow is ready to follow your lead Vesper."
(Maertock Reave)
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[02:26] The Sirenian's arms struggled to remove his clothing tossing the garments aside until he was stark naked. Fortunately his physiology preserved some modicum of modest save for his toned glutes.

This was a medical procedure, though. Perhaps there were certain audiences that should not have been present, but if they could be around for maiming, slaughtering, robbery, and other vile deeds then a bit of sawbone surgery was nothing.

"I be missin' an eye, an' be guts be fecked t'shite. Half o' it be mithril, part o' it be arcanium, an' th'rest be me own God-given guts." His attention turned to Yana.

"Nay, lass. I am immortal." He said with no faltering certainty, "This surgery'd kill a man tha' were even half o' what I be." It was a much more grim truth behind it all.

"Th'thing be that me god ain't takin' me. I'm too immortal. I need t'be able t'die. T'be claimed by Th'Deep when I fall in battle, but I ain't fightin' at peak so he ain't see fit t'take me."

Rather than being afraid of mortality it was his immortality which scared him. "T'keep wanderin' these lands turnin' old an' gray 'cause Th'Deep one finds me unhonorable in me fights ain't right."
(Murtock Reave)
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[02:30] Gajin hadn't been paying to much attention as they got ready. In truth he was a little distracted thinking about his own plans to push his trades further. Then out came the mirror and his focus shifted fully to the present. Softly glowing ember hues followed that mirror with fascination shifting from it towards Murtock as they spoke. What a wondrous treasure how had the mighty pirate came about such a thing?

Oh, right he probably robbed someone.

That almost brought a laugh to his charred lips but instead he kept himself focused. He was here to assist Vesper in the surgeries to come and aid in the restoration of the Shark. Not ponder about treasures that weren't his business. His gaze shifted over towards Maertock as he mentioned shadows. Well that was another magical application, one just like the blood magic he couldn't mimic.

Still as his gaze trailed back to Vesper he'd speak. "Bones may be healed by my magics but I've the hands of a artisan and wager I can write runes with the best of them. You've my talents in the restoration, just give the words." With his services out there he shifted back to Murtock listening to the list of injuries and the explanation.

Honestly? He'd never spoken to Murtock, his brothers sure, but never the most powerful of the trio. His adoration for his god though? In those moments Gajin's perception shifted. Here was another holy warrior, like himself. The embers of respect had been stocked from sparks to a raging fire.
(Gajin)
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[02:31] If didn't really know what to think. It had been ages since they'd gotten a chance to actually talk with the first mate, and the moment they saw him again this happened? They stood ready for direction to aid if need be. They weren't about to let Murtock go without medical help.

The young alchemist didn't ask the questions on their mind just yet. They'd been told they might be helping hold the large man down, so their stave was casually held to their side in one hand.

They didn't ask if he wanted painkillers they could easily go and make. Didn't ask what he meant. They stood quiet, observing, unaffected by the sight of so much verdant ichor that stained the makeshift medical bed and all.
(If)
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[02:35] Once again, Yana listened to Murtock's logic and could only find some sense on it. Was he getting more sturdy so there would be a better time for falling in battle? Or was Vesper actually going to downgrade his synthetic insides? Questions could be pushed for later.

At Vesper's command, Yana's vines would emerge seemingly from nowhere, wrapping around Murtock's strong limbs and securing him to his place. At least, the Ookami had some good rum in her canteen. "I hope this will at least ease your pain", she apologized before promptly giving the sirenian what would make a normal-sized drunk.

Obviously, it would do near nothing to him. Merely a symbol of affection.
(Yana)
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[02:44] Vesper didn't understand the biology of people of fish -- but there was something that he had to learn in general, and something he had to really go down and learn at a later date. However, there was something that he needed to know as well.

Just how far can this -king- handle? Would the abuse of what is bound to happen be able to even fix what was broken of this man? In the end, Vesper only knew that there was only one case that he could do.

And that was to create; that was to make something that was able to work in full. The right hand of Vesper moved over towards Murtock's head -- and a single tap came through with a bunch of metaphysical magic of illusion to put them into a simple state of happiness.

Bliss, even. However, there was something they had to be able to accept such a thing before he finally brought his attention towards Maetrock. "Stitch the cars of his eyes together." The eyes moved over as well towards the fellow artificer. "We need to make a proper eye."

An eye that was made of red and even stronger than the flesh itself; something to truly replace what was lost as well. "Yana, get something going to just keep them warm-blooded at the head."
(Vesper)
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[02:49] This has all been quiet overwhelming from the moment she first uttered those words of scene appraisal when she stumbled upon it. How things had seemingly stumbled increasingly out of control.

This is a little easier, tucking away into the bowls of this ship and ascertaining the weight of the loss of a kin-kind's injuries as the result of the race war.

This is the kind of stuff that happens in a race war, then! She'd only heard about them. Seeing how pummeled and frazzled people got when the going got touch and superiority had to be established or disproven was something totally unfamiliar to her! But. Not anything unimaginable, no.

But she creeps close. As is the typical fashion of this young woman, she is, in this situation- entirely unhelpful. Nay. Her hand is not lent to bracing him. She knows, as well as any other, that in this particular instance, should he start thrashing down? She would be nigh useless even as a meatshield compared to theirusefulness, their strength and expertise in relative fields.

With those wide, beady, neverblinking eyes does Kanae watch in silence. Her gaze is one fascinated and drawn by the moment, bouncing to those who speak and then back to the injury in question. She shuffles onto the table eventually for a better vantage to watch, kicking off some old utensils of some sort as the table wobbles. Unsteady. Ungraceful. Uncaring.
(Kanae)
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[02:49] Maertock would approach his brother's side as his shadow extended from his frame, two flowing hands of inky darkness moving forth to stop before Murtock's eyes as the captain listened in to Vesper's directions for his own study and application.

Internal injuries and sensory issues were two of the greatest threats as a pirate, he needed to be prepared for any injury on the high and low seas.

Stretching his hands forth, his shadow claws would clasp a thread and needle before; with the black surf's agile application of force, the needle would be dug through Murtock's thick shark sinew as the stitching began. No attention was paid for gentility; he knew his brother could take any pain.

While his shadow hands were focused on stitching Murtock's eyes up, the captain's piercing blue gaze would fall upon Vesper's removal of the arcanic replacement. Metal made flesh, to think they would make a giant shark even more frightening with metal.

"You're gonna be in kids nightmares before long Murt."

The captain would take a drag from his cigar as his shadow arms stretched with a last, looping efforts, finishing the stitch with a swordsman's flourish as his shadow dissipated once more into his blade.
(Maertock Reave)
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[03:03] Gajin took hold of the materials, so this was what Arcanium was like? Well he could do something with this one. That was for sure! "I'll get to it, make something fitting for a pirate." With that he took a few steps away from the group and sat the materials down upon a nearby table. Simply sweeping the various household goods that had been sitting on it off into the floor and out of the way.

Quickly he'd pull out a few bowls, each one forged of Nyeshk and Tyrium. Better to absorb and spread mana that way. Mana such as the rush of heat form his hands into the bowls. Heating them each to a tremendous level, setting down the arcanium, mithril, and orichalcum each into their respective bowls. As they melted fully the young artificer set down his own tools to the side. Small hammers, chisels, brushes, and fine edged knives. The most impressive piece was a small chunk of Tarian steel shaped as a small anvil. Truly a mini-work station for the Firebloodeds work.

The first thing to make was the mithril foundation. Hammering out from the cooling mithril a small rounded plate. One edge smooth as could be the other still rough and jagged. It was from this jagged edge that he scooped up the orichalcum. Quickly hammering, chiseling, and scratching the malleable metal so that it formed an intricate prosthetic that could be installed into Murtock's orbitals and connect through the still functioning nerves that trailed to his brain.

Though that wouldn't be all! Following these he began to etch upon the device intricate veins of arcanium to allow unslowed mana flow. It took time but once it was done and cooled the young Gajin flipped it to the other side. Looking at the smooth surface that would when polished reflect back all like a mirror he brought out his finest brush.

Dipping that brush into the remnants of molten Arcanium before bringing it to that smooth mirror like surface of the prosthetic. Carefully he brought the brush to the edges writing upon it runes of the Dragons only known to one other living being besides himself. Learned from the scroll snatched from the very heart of the Red Frotress.

'Suleyk Do Fin Vul Gein'

As the ancient runes wrote upon it there was a soft pulse of power. The prosthetic burning to life as those same runes started to glow and spark with life. Then as if remembered that he couldn't count on Murtock speaking any Dragon, let alone reading it. He wrote a few translation runes into the item's surface. Once it was done he held it up to himself and watched as it measure him slowly.

Words in old Essharn sprawled quickly upon the surface. 'Power of three Tyrrin's.' He chuckled softly at that one before turning back and walking over towards Vesper. Handing off his little masterwork. "Here we are my friend, the finest prosthetic I've ever forged.
(Gajin)
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[03:03] The heir of Marendille- Fallen at the hands of a Docro and one of Achyon's best machines before that, just barely, but now weakened for it. All things were bumps upon the road to fate meant to make them stronger. To strengthen the bonds.

For a King's power was not merely in their physical might, but the connections they formed with it. His turned toward Yana and allowed the rum to go down his throat only fighting the vines, instinctively, for a moment.

"Ye have me thanks, dear." He returned, deep voice still hoarse from the endeavor. Cuts and burns riddled that one smooth skin and the 'X' on his chest, inlaid with mithril, was bare for all to see shining atop the mountain of muscle.

Yana of Moxtli, If the wanderer, Gaijin of The Fireblooded, Vesper of the Grimmore- Now a free man, and his brother alongside one of the new Sirenians. "Two cities, two kings." He managed before the illusions took over his mind. Joy, bliss, unending happiness.

As his body relaxes shadows tinged with occult taint began to leak out of his chest. The legacy of Gol and Marendille had twisted his body from birth and through the ascension to the title of King of The Seas, now unrestrained.


Images flashed through his mind of blended reality- Moments that were real and fabrications of desire.

If praising him for his fighting ability, being raised high after his first drink.

Yana at his side speaking muffled words. Compliments on his strength and determination.

The roar of triumph as Gol was slain at their hand, his tyranny ended. The deck slick with green blood and covered in a haze of Maertock's shadowy magic.

The damned docks of Achyon fading into the horizon no bigger than a speck as he began his life as a sailor leaving the mundane life of moving boxes for a family that did not care.

Then began the scene of battles replaying, real and imagined, playing in a loop. A vision of the heaven he sought to revel in once his mortal frame was taken until he was repurposed into the world as a piece of his god.

Once he had dreamed of being a hero- The rebellious freedom fighter beholden to no man or nation his father had appeared to be, but fate was a funny thing and dashed dreams changed a man.

It was at this point it would be decided- Either a legendary king in the making, God Guts Murtock, Liberator of New Atlantis.. Or 'The pirate slain by Achyon.'

Only time could tell, but the transformation started among spatters of green gore and white bone as immaculate metal was to be joined with toned flesh.

Ironic, really.

Making a being of flesh and metal to fight beings of flesh and metal.
(Murtock Reave)
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[03:07] Warm blooded at the head? Yana tought multiple things, but it would be best to talk to him. Also considering the literal sense of warm, a soft hand went to caress the untouched side of the sirenian's triangular head.

"This time, you will have to allow me to treat you with lax", the Ookami joked, referring to the first time he battled with Ryker. "And I'm going to become a medic too, you know? Next time, I'll be the one to open your guts!"

As Maertock started stitching him, Yana could only side eye the situation while attempting to be a distraction, her vines gripping tighter just in case. She made a mental note: shark skin is way thicker than it looks.
(Yana)
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[03:07] Vesper says, "..."
[03:07] Gajin says, "Damn that's strong."
[03:07] Vesper says, "... leave the innuendos."
[03:13] Now, it was time to add the application of the eye on to them, only to make sure that it would attach itself fully. When he moved his finger over towards it, the cosmic would start to flourish as he moved to push against it…

That was when the weird, horrible draconic runes started to flourish as well a single piece sticking to the eye and the cells within the eye before stabbing into the brain to connect it by horrible force.

It was painful, but it wasn't inevitable, and when it would come together, Vesper would make sure that all pieces of the eyepatch would start to blink and bloom and to let sight come back to where the hole that used to be.

Even though it was partially and made of numbers -- or Tyrins, as they called it, it was still something that he expected and something that was preferably desirable. So, with that done, Vesper would only take a single step back as he lets the stitches of the brother would come.

Gladly, however, Vesper would only take a step away to let such a thing be done, and with the eye coming through, Vesper turns to Maetrock. "Would you like to do the honors of fixing the sternum?"
(Vesper)
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[03:26] Maertock would take a light drag from his minty cigar as he offered a final salute to Vesper; the captain of the Deep Company pacing forth to his presently half sensate titan of a brother who lay on the operating table in preparation of chopshop butchery to come.

With the eye installed, the arcanium rib cage's insertion was left....in his hands. Never again would Murtock be crushed, and so he would forever be immune even to the very lowest depths of the sea where the pressure was immeasurable.

The demesne of the Deep One himself. The Mori.

His hand would raise as his shadows were condensed around his blade, the inky darkness that manifested his aura of flowing shadows turning his mithril appendage into a razor as with sudden, swift motions befit of a swordsman, Murtock's torso was brutally rended open with his ribcage exposed.

"Luckily you're a tough regenerative bastard, so I don't have to really worry too much about the particulars."

The ribcage, impacted as it was, was clearly exposed to Maertock, who in lieu of repairing any individual fragments proceeded to with rending forth snap each of Murtock's ribs one by one until each was scattered and sliced.

"That probably hurts. This will arguably hurt worse."

The captain would proceed to clasp the arcanium ribcage with his flowing shadows, drawing it towards his person before, with sudden force to ensure it stuck in neatly; and no doubt the brutal squish and crunch of seared muscle at that, the nigh exoskeleton replaced of Murtock's ribcage was thrust force into the muscle with savage strength befit of a shark.

"Okay someone pour water on him while I stitch up."

The Captain would release several tendrils that acquired various needles of mithril orichalchic alloy threads and began to, with a forceful snapping motion and more unpleasant squishing noises, shove Murtock back togetherto reform that X shaped scared on his chest before beginning the even more brutal process of stitching him whole.

Snip snap, snip, sssnrrt, slccht, snap, snip.

"Good as new."
(Maertock Reave)
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