forum "Mystery and magic, what could make a better adventure?" (Closed - OxO) (MATURE)
Started by @bleeding_hearts
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people_alt 71 followers

@bleeding_hearts

I know I shouldn't be starting a bunch of rps, but I have had a SHIT ton of ideas popping into my head, so here we are.


~Disclaimer~
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS NOT FOR YOUNGLINGS (tbh none of my rps are) Themes such as: Suicide, Abuse (mentally, physically, etc etc), Death, Blood, Gore, so on so forth. Just overall it's like- a lot and I'd rather not upset someone. This will most likely have sexual themes (this of course will be taken to DM's to respect andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s Rules) as well as I would be aware of that. SO.


~General Premise~

I don't really- have a specific idea for this rp, but I REALLY want to do something pirates based, since I've been finding myself with a focus on one of my beloved sea bois so I want to play around with him!


~General Rules~

  • Moderately long responses please! I prefer detailed answers. If your response takes you a few days, that's fine. I like detailed, long replies. They don't have to be perfect, but I do like longer responses, it feels like there's more to develop and whatnot.

  • On that note, I would like to point out that I prioritize willingness to learn, so as long as you have well thought out answers and not something like "She sniffled." As your response, we should be okay. Sometimes writing block hits, sometimes we don't know where to continue, and that's okay.

  • Literature, preferably experienced. I won't hold it to anyone if their grammar isn't perfect. But I would like the responses to make sense, and I would like someone who flows well with my writing style. That being said, If I deny your rp style it is nothing against you. I hope that is understandable.

  • LGBTQIA+ is always, and will always be welcome. Your character can be anywhere on the spectrum. Any sexuality, any gender, etc. This is a safe place. In fact I'd rather the rp be queer lmao.

  • This roleplay is MATURE. Anything explicit will be moved to DM's or a Fade to Black situation to respect andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules. Relationships in this story are totally fine (I'm actually kind of aching for a romance ngl).

  • There will be triggering topics (as I have listed above, and there will be more) Violence, death, questionable choices, threatening situations, blood, gore, so on so forth, will be present. Please for the love of god, tell me your triggers so that we can avoid those moments. I will either give a heads up if something is mentioned OR we can completely skip over those moments. This is supposed to be enjoyable for the both of us.

  • Swearing? I don't give a fuck. Just don't use slurs. I will no longer reply, or roleplay with you.

  • Your character can be an asshole, but you cannot be an asshole. Be a decent human being please.

@larcenistarsonist group

here's something tooth rottingly domestic

Felix is a night person. He always has been, which is why it surprises him that he fell asleep so early and so little into the night. He usually sleeps through his mornings, both he and Rhyda not bothering to roll out of their respective beds until at least 11 o'clock. Nobody hosts poker matches at seven am for God's sake, so why would he even bother with morning songbirds and cereal.

Except, it's not the smell of cereal thar awakes him at just a little past nine. No, it's eggs and spices and a little bit of giggling coming from outside the room. Felix's first thought is why is Rhyda making eggs, quickly followed by why are there children in my apartment. And then he finally takes a look around and realizes that he isn't in his apartment. This wasn’t a one night stand. If it were, Felix would've been back home by this time while whatever partner he had would still be sleeping.

No, he's in Damian's home. "Oh," he says to himself, voice groggy. He slowly slides out of bed and decides to change into his pants from yesterday because basketball shorts are atrocious. However, he does keep on Damian's shirt. Wiping the last bits of sleep from his eyes, Felix steps out of the bedroom and makes his way down the small hall to the kitchen. "Good morning," he yawns, approaching Damian over the stove and encircling his arms around his waist. He drops his bedridden head onto Damians shoulder as he suppresses another yawn.

and if ya want something a little grittier I have this:

"Oh, I know he'll die." By Miran's hand. He'll be damned if he ever lets anyone else get the finishing blow. Nicandros has also suffered, but thousands of others have as well. Miran's lived it. He's had to wake up every day for the past twenty-five years knowing that his father's blood courses through his veins. He has to breathe in the suffocating power of a stolen throne. He's had to sit and watch as the king caused the deaths of hundreds. It's Miran's right to patricide. He's been counting the days since he was a boy.

"If you have nothing else for me, I'm going to begin drafting the letters to my allies. I wrote to Sella last night. I'm sure she'll get back to me tonight or tomorrow." Miran doesn't bother with a nod or goodbye–he exits the tent and breathes in the early afternoon air. He finds the cafeteria tent with his siblings. He bumps past Bel, who is carrying a plate of food. Slightly confused but deciding it's not his problem, Miran looks to Treya and Val. "I need you two." He jabs his thumb in the direction of their temporary tent.

I usually average 2 paragraphs for my responses

@larcenistarsonist group

awesome!!! what type of plot did you have in mind. I know you said something about pirates and i have a pirate captain I've been brewing in my mind if we wanna try something with him! maybe rival captains forced to work together to take down a bigger threat, one of our characters in a prisoner situation, your character a new recruit, ir they already have each others trust and yours is a right hand man? idk just some random options!!

@bleeding_hearts

Pirate captain would be amazing! Prisoner situation would probably make the most sense since my character has a habit of a) getting into trouble and b) lives in the sea. But I also figured it could turn into a there's this bad situation and I can help, but only if you trust me. type of deal.

@larcenistarsonist group

awesome!! that sounds good to me. also: will this be a real-world setting but at a time period with pirates, or will this be an entirely fantasy world? just asking bc character in my mind is from Morocco and he terrorizes the Mediterranean in like the 16th century. that can easily be disregarded if you're thinking a full fantasy world.

and do we want templates or just to jump right in?

@bleeding_hearts

It's a fantasy esque earth. Think earth, but after a weird meteor fucked with the atmosphere, fantasy became a real thing, so safe to say that Morocco definitely works! And we can just jump in if you'd like!

@bleeding_hearts

The myths have always spoken of sea creatures, mermaids, sirens, the likes for eons. But no one doubted that they existed. Many had heard the stories of the sirens alluring calls, and many had heard of the great beauty mermaids possessed. But there was one thing that was rumored. Somewhere, hidden away, there was a great treasure that the mermaids possessed. Many placed bounties on finding this so called treasure of the sea. Many had come close, but they had disappeared without a trace. And now, it has caught the royal family of Ethuan's (modern day Spain for reference) attention.

Not only have they placed a bounty, but any sailor, pirate, privateer, buccaneer, the likes, if they were to bring the treasure to the royal family, not only would they have free passage in the future, their past crimes would be completely forgiven. Some tried, all failed. It seemed more and more like this treasure was just a myth to lure sailors to their dooms, kill them off.

Until a new spark had lit under the circumstances. Sailors had found a mermaid washed ashore. She was dead, but it meant that they were no longer chasing a fairytale. Which meant, not only was the fairytale real, so was the treasure. And so the hunt began.

(should we start with your character finding mine and capturing?)

@larcenistarsonist group

Captain Idris Bilal stares out into the deep blue sea, studying the careful churn of the waves against the glimmer of the morning sun. The air tastes of salt and promise. The floor beneath him sways with the current. The Crooked Maiden sings her soft, creaking song against the waves. Her darkened wood stands out against the blue of the sky and the sea. Her greened copper embellishments shine. Around his neck, the Captain holds a locket close. The silver stands out against his dark skin, the reflection of both the water and the necklace gleam through his ebony eyes. His gaze doesn't move, endlessly scrutinizing the water as he does every sunrise. 

"Find anything yet, boss?" a voice inquires, stepping up close to the tall, lean figure that reigns over the ship. The boy, barely a man, rests his elbows on the railing, following the Captains gaze to the depths. 

"I'm optimistic, Devansh," the Captain answers quietly. He squeezes his locket, drops his hand and runs his fingers through his cornrowed hair. 

"We've been at this for a year–"

"One day, Devansh." Captain Idris Bilal steps away from the railing. He snatches his hat from a nail hammered into the central mast. The ship begins to awake, emerging from their bunkers to carry out various morning chores. "One day."

-

One day comes faster than even the Captain was expecting. He wakes, just before sunrise where the creatures of the depth are rumored to be most active. He stands alone on the deck until his right-hand comes up to greet him. Devansh starts up a one-sided conversation, but Idris appreciates the company, even if he'd have to be held at gunpoint to admit it. Devansh sways on his bare feet and stretches high enough for his tattered shirt to lift above his navel. His dark, silky hair rests around his copper face in loose curls. The Captain watches the ocean.

The crew emerges from below deck, already humming their merry shanties. With a sigh, Idris steps away, grabbing his favorite hat from its perch. He turns his back. Devansh shouts.

"Captain!" he screams. Idris's heart drops with his hat. Usually reserved and poised, the man scrambles to the edge and there he finds it.

"The net!" he orders, all morning chores forgotten in favor of capturing their life goal. The crew toss it over, the net expanding in the air and crashing through the water with its lead weights. 

@bleeding_hearts

Aravos had always been an adventurer, eager to explore the sea, captivated by the sun in the sky, watching humans shyly from the cove, following ships as they moved to their destination. He and his pod made of his three sisters, brother, and two mothers often moved, allowing him that luxury of exploration. Of wonder, of fun. He loved to explore. His mothers warned him of stories- stories of dangerous humans that travelled the sea. Pillaging and killing. And warning him that a time would come when he would become a protector of something much much older than him. Something precious to the ocean.

As a child, he always brushed it off, going off to play with his sisters and to explore the sea for the opportunity. But years later- that would be a mistake. As he was off galivanting and playing with sea creatures, his parents and family had been attacked. He returned to his pod, only to see that his family had been killed, and the responsibility had fallen into his hands.

And he grew to be that. A protector.


He felt weak at this point. After a rough showdown with a few sharks he had been weaker, lost in the waves of the ocean. He had a nasty cut on his side, and his body ached from the countless times he had been hit back and forth. He grunted as he tried to get through the water before a giant shadow seemed to come out of nowhere. He paused, his tail swaying slowly in the water as he looked up just to realize it was a giant fucking ship.

He barely had a second to react before a net wrapped around his body. He let out a noise of fear, trying to escape, but it seemed like his fins only got caught more on the ropes, the more he struggled, the less he was able to move. Already weak and burnt out from the fight with the sharks earlier, all he could do was wince when the sunlight hit his eyes and someone could be heard yelling.

He was beautiful in the sunlight. Long white hair braided messily with pearls and shells woven in the soft strands. Tanned from the sun, with half the body of what appeared to be an orca. Covered in scars yet… completely stunning. He looked exhausted, blood dripping to mix with the water onto the deck.

@larcenistarsonist group

The crew hauls and hauls and finally it's dragged out of the depths and dropped unceremoniously on the dark floor of the Crooked Maiden. The Captain's heart catches in his throat as he stares at the creature. This is it. His bounty, his prize, his key to the future and every opportunity that will come with it. This is his way out. The feared Captain Idris Bilal stares at the creature every sailor in the damn sea has been searching for. It's… It's far more human than he had expected. It bleeds red, just as Idris would. "Doc–" he eventually says, snapping himself from the stupor. "Doc!" He searches for the woman. 

She eventually emerges from the crowd–heavyset, middle-aged, large spectacles over her dark eyes–with her signature carpet bag clutched in one of her steady hands. Doc stutters, her feet nailed to the floor, staring wide-eyed at the creature dripping onto their deck. 

"Doc, it's bleeding!" Idris yells. He can hear his own voice, how it borders nearly on hysterical. Hysteria be damned, Idris won't let his year of grueling work go down the drain because his ship medic was too slow to cure it. The Institution won't accept a damaged creature. He needs it alive. "What are you waiting for?" His voice nearly growls. 

Doc manages to get to her senses, scrambling forward to kneel beside the net and thrashing creature. She softly shushes it, finding a not-so-rusted needle and clean-ish thread. With a snap, she manages to get a few crewmates to hold down the flipping tail and the convulsing human torso. With her steady, steady hands, she manages to sew the bleeding gash shut. There's blood on the Captain's floor. He doesn't even care.

@bleeding_hearts

Aravos looked at the captain weakly with exhausted onyx eyes, then to the rest of the crew. His mind was racing, begging him to fight, to flail, to do something… but oh how weak he felt. There was no strength left in his body. He felt so heavy, so dizzy- blood was draining from his body quickly- he had underestimated the size of the wound and how deep it was. The human was yelling something, but he could barely hear what they were saying. There was a ringing in his ears and it was getting louder, swallowing him up. He could barely manage to raise his head when a woman walked towards him, and adrenaline struck.

He tried his hardest to escape, fearful chitters leaving his throat as he tried to wrench himself free from the ropes holding onto him. He did not want to be approached, did not want to be hurt. He had heard so many stories, had witnessed the horrors of humans, to even want to be close to them. He looked like a caged animal, fearful and ready to snap at any moment. But when the pain did not come, he hesitates. The woman did not seem to have the intent to hurt him. His body goes lax, chest rising and falling unevenly as he tries to calm. But with the snap and more hands coming towards him, more humans- He only got more riled up.

He was strong, especially with the adrenaline. Powerful tail swept many aside, strong hands scratched and pulled. But his body was weak, exhausted. The fight only lasted for a minute before he had completely collapsed, no energy left in him. He did not make even the smallest noise when the needle pierced his skin. It did not hurt him as much as his other injuries did. The bruises, the cuts, those were all the most painful injuries. His body ached all over, adding a needle through his skin barely made him flinch.

His gaze fell on the captain and he let out a small sound, one that was so painful it made the ocean tremble. He glanced at the crew bustling around him before he curled up, too exhausted to do anything else.

@larcenistarsonist group

The Captain's breath hitches in his throat as he stares at the beautiful monster. Not for its beauty, but for the great opportunity it brings. They'll earn their reward from the royal family. They'll pay off all of their debts and further their goals. Idris can already see himself in front of the institution, well cleaned and dressed in his finest suit as he delivers his research done on the fabulous creature. The Captain is many things, but a scholar is by far his favorite. Well, perhaps second favorite. He finds the locket beneath his shirt with a shaking hand, squeezing it tight before dropping it back against his chest.

"How is it, Doc?" he asks, voice quieter now that the hysteria has calmed. The crew around him circles around the creature, each mirroring each other's shocked expressions. "It won't die on our watch, right?" He looks to the resident medic, her tanned skin a sharp contrast to the pale complexion of the creature. Has it ever been out of the water? Has it ever tasted sunlight like this?

Doc shakes her head, standing carefully as to not slip on the floor. "I've stitched up the wound. It shouldn't bleed any further."

Idris nods, the dreadful weight on his chest now lightened now that their catch has been secured. "Does it require a tank?" The thought hits him suddenly. "Will it dry because of the air?" He looks to Devansh, the boy shrugging with some incredulous expression. Nobody before has captured a creature such as this before. Nobody has conducted any research, written any tomes, given any speech. Idris's heart thunders with the thought of being the first. It's nauseating and thrilling all in one, but he has to ensure that his catch doesn't die on him.

"Can you understand us?" Idris asks carefully, slowly approaching the curled creature. His hand hovers over its shoulder, but he retracts it. "Can you blink if you need water to survive?"

@bleeding_hearts

Aravos couldn't believe this. Over the years he had been so careful to avoid getting caught, over all the years he had avoided a human finding him. He was one of the last of his specific kind. Those like him, with orca tails, were slowly dying out. They were dying… and now he was going to be one of those numbers. He had seen how ruthlessly the humans had killed his family. His sisters- his brother. His mothers. He had lost them to human hands. And now- he was stuck in human hands. He had been caught because he had been careless. He had been so out of it. He felt like this was the end for him. He was terrified out of his mind. He knew that this was how he was going to go. Now he was being gawked at by humans. He only wished to be free. He wished he was somewhere safe. He wished he was back in the water, wished he was free from this hellscape. He just wanted to find a place to sleep and fix his wounds. He didn't want to be here.

The humans were talking, his tale flicking weakly as he watched the woman that had stitched him up move to talk to who he guessed was in charge. He looked at the captain, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the man in front of him. It. It. It. Aravos was just a thing to these humans. Something to study. Something to kill when the time came. He growled faintly when the human moved closer to him. Still weak, but defending himself how he can. He was terrified out of his mind. He inhaled sharply when the human moved to touch him, retracting as well from the possible touch. He didn't want to be touched.

When asked if he understood, he growled. "Fuck off." Was all he managed. He didn't want to live, not if it meant living in captivity. But it could be seen that his scales were slowly fading in the light. Dying from the lack of water. He scratched at the wood beneath him. He needed out. He wanted to be back in the ocean. He wanted to be free, wanted to leave. Wanted to get out of there. Wanted nothing to do with these humans. He was so tired. "Get away."

@larcenistarsonist group

"Holy shit, it can talk–" Devansh marvels, his dark eyes going wide, not daring to budge from the creature. It's times like these does the Captain truly understand how young Devansh is. He's barely nineteen. He joined the Crooked Maiden on his eighteenth birthday, ecstatic to finally get away from his crowded home. "Captain–did you hear it?" He blinks and, as if shaking off a trance, Devansh looks to Idris.

The Captain nods slowly. "You're going to die if you don't answer the question," Idris keeps his voice calm and level, breaking out a gentle tone that has lay dormant for so long. "We are not going to hurt you if you don't resist." The creature is intelligent, capable of human speech–Idris tries not to think of how revolutionary the knowledge could be. He tries not to think of the wonder and awe in the eyes of every student at the Institution. It's been years since he's left to go on his wild chase–which, looking down at his prized catch, has proven to not be so wild. All of his former students have graduated. Would they also be seeking the same prize as Idris? "Do you need water to survive?" he asks again, signaling for his crew to back off, to try and at least get their morning chores done. 

Most of them are hesitant. How often do they get to see a marvelous creature like this? Idris glances up, shooting his crew a glare that inspires them to get moving. When finally left alone (well, with Devansh, but Idris can't get the kid to do anything that he doesn't want to) with the creature, Idris takes a moment to study it. It resembles an orca, like the ones from the fond memories he would have as a boy in his father's lighthouse. Its skin is tan, its hair is white, its body is scratched and scarred from god-knows-what. Maybe now that Idris knows it can speak, he can get stories and facts from it. He could write an entire novel, hell, maybe four, with just the information the creature can get him.

@bleeding_hearts

(Quick little correction, Aravos has tanned skin, considering how close he usually swims to the surface of the ocean! Just a little heads up!)

Aravos felt like there was too much going on. His mind was racing, trying so hard to gather his thoughts. He was exhausted, that much was clear. He grunted with effort. It can talk. After years of hearing and studying various human languages- yes. Aravos could talk. He hissed with effort to sit up, his body trembling as he tried to ease his discomfort. He glanced at the captain, his eyes narrowing. He glanced at the water surrounding him. How pitiful. They'd likely shove him in a tank when there was perfectly good water there. He lived in the ocean for fucks sake. He didn't want to be stuck here. The sun was so warm. His body was aching at this point, slowly drying out. "Yes. I need water." He answers firmly, not giving any more than that. His anger flared in his gut when he heard that they weren't going to hurt him. Couldn't they tell? They were already hurting him. Taking him away from his home. Holding him captive. His tail smacked against the boards, to which he heard a satisfying crack. It didn't break under the pressure, but he was pissed. That much was painfully obvious.

When the humans, except for the boy and the captain, ease settled in his heart. At least he was no longer being gawked at, except for the boy apparently. He glanced at the captain, a glare matching the one the captain gave to his crew. He was not going to become a test subject. Not in a million years. He hissed softly as he glanced over all the bruises on his body. "You're starting like a drooling dog." Dogs- such curious creatures. He had met one, one late night on a beach. Much like him now, broken and bruised. Hungry and desperate. When he had brought food for the dog, it had stared, drooling before Aravos had placed it right in front of the dog to eat. Drooling, hungry, eager. He looked over at the people busying themselves, then back to the captain. Humans. He had always been so curious about humans, but now that he was stuck on a boat with them… held as a captive? Not so much.

@larcenistarsonist group

(asldkfj whoops my bad,,,, got it fixed!)

Idris flicks his wrist and Devansh quickly gets to work, gathering each of the four corners of the net and slowly pulling it away from the creature. Devansh stares widely, unable to look away from the creature on their deck. "Oh my god–" he whispers to himself, the situation something straight from the fairytale books he read as a kid. He looks to the Captain, trying to battle his growing smile. He jumps a little when the creature slams its tail onto the deck, but calms his own nerves with a quick laugh. The creature comments about a drooling dog and the boy falls back onto the deck with a howling fit of laughter. "My god, captain, you have your hands full with this one!"

"Devansh," Idris chastises in a low tone. The boy quickly loses his smile and nods. "Talk with the crew. See what we can do with a tank below deck." The Crooked Maiden is a tight ship. It shouldn't be too hard to fashion a tank for the creature to live in. Devansh looks ready to object, but with a quick glare from the Captain, he closes his mouth with a click. The boy scuttles away, striking up a conversation with some of the other crewmates. The Captain sighs and shifts away from the creature. "We're getting your arrangements ready now." He swallows. "I want you to know who I am. My name is Captain Idris Bilal. I am from Morocco, but I have lived in France for the past few years. I am a scholar from the French Institution of Marine Research. A bounty has been on your head for years, but most are looking to kill you. I am just looking to study you and understand your kind. If you comply, it'll be much quicker for us all. I have full intentions to release you as soon as I'm able." He hopes his level voice and full transparency will be able to get through to the creature. He may be a pirate, but he still tries to maintain his integrity. 

@bleeding_hearts

Aravos inhaled sharply before slowly adjusting himself. It was happening all over again. It was happening to him all over again. A tank. No he couldn't do that ever again. It's why he sunk that first boat. He couldn't do this. He needed out, needed to escape. But his body was to heavy outside of the water, and he could barely move due to earlier exhaustion. He grunted softly as he looked at the other, matching a glare that the captain gave his crewmate. He glared at the man before him, body shaking with rage. "I don't care who you are. I don't care what your mission is. I don't care where you came from. All I know is that some fucking human decided to snatch me from my home. You really think that studying me and my kind will do you a favor? No. It will not do us any favors. Me and my kind will die because of you humans. Even if you release me, you release your work? My kind will never know peace again. We will be hunted until the point of extinction." He swallows thickly as the realization dawns on him.

Not only his species, but every other species out there. Every mercreature, large and small were at risk now because of his mistake of getting caught. And to make it worse? If they found the deeper world- no. No he wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let the humans hurt his people, the people he was supposed to protect. If he could lead the humans astray- that could them safer for longer. A plan started to form in his mind. He glanced at the ship around them, his hands shaking nervously. He had to get out of here if he could, but for now he would guide them away from the possibility of never finding the others like him. It's what he could do to protect those that had not been found yet.

@larcenistarsonist group

(aaaaaa i'm so sorry for this wait–)

"Calm down," Idris says, the care in his voice hardening into something of an order. "You're not quite in a position to make negotiations. This is all in the name of science. Wise men know not to harm creatures like you. Foolish men are the ones you're welcome to tear…" Idris studies the claws on the creature's hands. "Limb from limb." Idris stands and walks a slow circle around the creature. The deck squeaks softly beneath the rubber soles of his thick boots, the puddle beneath the creature slowly evaporating in the morning sun. August should be kind to them in regards to her treacherous storms, but there's no promise as to how bearable her heat shall be. This creature could easily dry out into nothing but a salty skeleton… Does it have a skeleton? 

His intellect piqued, Idris continues his slow circle around the creature. "Do you have a name?" Since it's so clearly capable of language–vulgar one at that–the creature must certainly go by something among its people. Idris stops his pacing, crouching once more beside the creature's face. "How far away from home are you?" While his eyes might be hard, there's no  malice in them. The creature may not trust him, but Captain Idris Bilal's words are true. He has no intention to hurt the creature. He has all the intention to release it back into the ocean once he's finished his research.

@bleeding_hearts

Easy for the human to say. Calm down. What creature wouldn't be freaking out if they had been yanked out of their home, thrown onto a deck full of terrifying men, women, and others alike… and then be told that you were going to be studied? He snorts sharply when the captain mentioned tearing them from limb to limb. "And why shouldn't I do that to you? What stops me from regaining strength and tearing you limb from limb?" The answer was obvious. He was at a clear disadvantage. Even with his claws, his tail would not ebb into human legs for at least another day or two, so running from them was not an option. There were many crewmates, he could take out the captain, but he would die as well. If he died though- his people would be safe for a little longer. But- that wouldn't stop them from studying his corpse. And he wouldn't be able to protect the deeper world. He was cornered no matter what he tried to do.

When asked for a name, he paused, his eyes narrowing. Names were considered sacred among his people, they gave definition, purpose. "Aravos." He said simply. It was only fair. The captain had given his name. When the man crouched to his level, Aravos drew himself up, eyes just as hard before he gave his answer. "Far enough that my people will never suffer from human hands again. Not while I'm alive and breathing." The captain might have no intention of hurting him, but that didn't mean there were others. Some merfolk were peaceful creatures, others hungry for war. Once that information was released about him? It was over. Gone. His people would never know rest again.