RP: The Morning After
Characters: Fenrir Greyback, Sam Kennerly (NPC)
Date: 24 November 1999, Morning
Location: Adrift in the North Sea, aboard The Gallagher
Summary: Fenrir remembers the night before and meets Sam.
Status/Warning: Closed/Corpses present
Completion: Complete
Sea water gently lapped at his mouth. Ragged, exhausted breaths rippled the water away, saliva mixing with it as he lay on the deck. Consciousness slowly came to him, dragging him out of the wild darkness of the night. Lips were encrusted with salt, he licked them and then coughed, spat, and rolled over onto his stomach. His ears were still clear as ever, the calls of gulls and the crashing of waves on the ship came to him. Bringing his legs underneath him, he slowly pushed himself up off the deck and began to take in his new surroundings.
A flash of memories: a door shattered, a man decapitated, humans running, the roof, the howl of freedom... I am... leaping out into the night, the cold ocean, the never ending swells, a ship... "I am..." words came to him slowly. He was sounding each one out, as if he was getting used to how his jaw and vocal chords worked. More memories came to him, clearer now: the fishermen and guards he'd killed, the helpless prisoners that had gotten in his way, the fact that he was no longer a prisoner of Azkaban.
"I am free," the novel thought came to his lips before it really made a serious connection in his mind. He breathed in the sea breeze through his nose, filling his lungs and stretching out his arms at the same time. He took time to enjoy the moment, as well he should since he'd been forced to spend over a year enjoying Azkaban. "Never again will I allow myself to be captured and caged. I will die before I give this up again."
===============
By mid-morning the storm had almost blown itself out. Fenrir spent some time looking around the ship, tossing bodies and remaining limbs overboard as he found them. He started taking in the layout of the ship and organizing what he found below deck in a cabin. Satisfied with his work so far, he decided to come to the bridge and look over the controls to figure out where he was and where he was headed. He'd move the body of the bearded man later. As he looked over the instruments it dawned on him that he had no clue what he was doing: although he'd spent enough time among Muggles throughout his years of wandering the world to know simple things like driving a car and how a boat worked, the navigational charts of a sea going vessel were something beyond him.
While scratching the stubble on his cheek and wondering where he might be in relation to London, a small closet made a soft rustling sound. Immediately taking a stance to defend himself from an ambush, he quietly sidled up to the small door with its brass handle. Gently touching, he gave the door enough of a push to let it swing open. A boy, judging by his looks to be sixteen years of age, stumbled out onto the bridge. Fenrir took him by the collar, and firmly spun him around. Matted sandy hair with bits of glass in it, sleep deprived, and visibly disturbed, the boy looked at Fenrir trying to figure out whether he should be thanking his rescuer or throwing himself to the mercy of the sea.
Fenir reacted quickly to the boy's situation, "There, there, its alright. No one is going to hurt you, I promise, I came here to make sure you were alright. My ship got wrecked last night by something horrible, I'm not even sure what it was. I was adrift in the sea until I luckily found this ship, but it seems like this one was hit too. I'm sorry, but I think I have some bad news for you... you're the only one I found still alive." Carefully organizing his facial expression to show concern, his eyes searched the boy for more clues to help his story.
Looking up the boy spoke, "I... I'm so glad you're here. My name is Sam, Samuel Kennerly. Date of birth: December 22nd, 1983. My a-address is 5 Belgrove Street in London." Finally the boy stopped rambling and suddently looked at the corpse, "He was... he was my mentor. I was so scared, I haven't slept at all since it happened. Are you sure you found no one else? I'm not even completely sure how to run the boat, how can I do it alone, oh its h-hopeless!" Flinging his arms around Fenrir's neck, Sam cried into his shoulder, "So much blood! There was so much, I couldn't look, and I don't even know what could have done this. What could do this?!"
Smiling, Fenrir patted the boy on the back. Fenrir had frowned at the self-doubt Sam displayed of his abilities to navigate the ship and get him where he wanted to go, but for now he could be patient and work at calming him down. Sam would be useless for the moment. Maybe some sleep and food would help.
Date: 24 November 1999, Morning
Location: Adrift in the North Sea, aboard The Gallagher
Summary: Fenrir remembers the night before and meets Sam.
Status/Warning: Closed/Corpses present
Completion: Complete
Sea water gently lapped at his mouth. Ragged, exhausted breaths rippled the water away, saliva mixing with it as he lay on the deck. Consciousness slowly came to him, dragging him out of the wild darkness of the night. Lips were encrusted with salt, he licked them and then coughed, spat, and rolled over onto his stomach. His ears were still clear as ever, the calls of gulls and the crashing of waves on the ship came to him. Bringing his legs underneath him, he slowly pushed himself up off the deck and began to take in his new surroundings.
A flash of memories: a door shattered, a man decapitated, humans running, the roof, the howl of freedom... I am... leaping out into the night, the cold ocean, the never ending swells, a ship... "I am..." words came to him slowly. He was sounding each one out, as if he was getting used to how his jaw and vocal chords worked. More memories came to him, clearer now: the fishermen and guards he'd killed, the helpless prisoners that had gotten in his way, the fact that he was no longer a prisoner of Azkaban.
"I am free," the novel thought came to his lips before it really made a serious connection in his mind. He breathed in the sea breeze through his nose, filling his lungs and stretching out his arms at the same time. He took time to enjoy the moment, as well he should since he'd been forced to spend over a year enjoying Azkaban. "Never again will I allow myself to be captured and caged. I will die before I give this up again."
===============
By mid-morning the storm had almost blown itself out. Fenrir spent some time looking around the ship, tossing bodies and remaining limbs overboard as he found them. He started taking in the layout of the ship and organizing what he found below deck in a cabin. Satisfied with his work so far, he decided to come to the bridge and look over the controls to figure out where he was and where he was headed. He'd move the body of the bearded man later. As he looked over the instruments it dawned on him that he had no clue what he was doing: although he'd spent enough time among Muggles throughout his years of wandering the world to know simple things like driving a car and how a boat worked, the navigational charts of a sea going vessel were something beyond him.
While scratching the stubble on his cheek and wondering where he might be in relation to London, a small closet made a soft rustling sound. Immediately taking a stance to defend himself from an ambush, he quietly sidled up to the small door with its brass handle. Gently touching, he gave the door enough of a push to let it swing open. A boy, judging by his looks to be sixteen years of age, stumbled out onto the bridge. Fenrir took him by the collar, and firmly spun him around. Matted sandy hair with bits of glass in it, sleep deprived, and visibly disturbed, the boy looked at Fenrir trying to figure out whether he should be thanking his rescuer or throwing himself to the mercy of the sea.
Fenir reacted quickly to the boy's situation, "There, there, its alright. No one is going to hurt you, I promise, I came here to make sure you were alright. My ship got wrecked last night by something horrible, I'm not even sure what it was. I was adrift in the sea until I luckily found this ship, but it seems like this one was hit too. I'm sorry, but I think I have some bad news for you... you're the only one I found still alive." Carefully organizing his facial expression to show concern, his eyes searched the boy for more clues to help his story.
Looking up the boy spoke, "I... I'm so glad you're here. My name is Sam, Samuel Kennerly. Date of birth: December 22nd, 1983. My a-address is 5 Belgrove Street in London." Finally the boy stopped rambling and suddently looked at the corpse, "He was... he was my mentor. I was so scared, I haven't slept at all since it happened. Are you sure you found no one else? I'm not even completely sure how to run the boat, how can I do it alone, oh its h-hopeless!" Flinging his arms around Fenrir's neck, Sam cried into his shoulder, "So much blood! There was so much, I couldn't look, and I don't even know what could have done this. What could do this?!"
Smiling, Fenrir patted the boy on the back. Fenrir had frowned at the self-doubt Sam displayed of his abilities to navigate the ship and get him where he wanted to go, but for now he could be patient and work at calming him down. Sam would be useless for the moment. Maybe some sleep and food would help.