(no subject)
William Bush was rarely truly frightened.
He was not fearless, no, nor a fool. He held a healthy fear of the sea, of God, of the many perils that might befall a sailor and military man. But he had seen all those fears, time and time again. While he had no wish to face death and thought little of those who wished to become martyrs, he was no coward and would not hide from it in times of danger. He had not the temperament for psychological terrors, nor the imagination to invent monster.
But today he did not need to create them - someone had already done that for him.
Even with the madness all around him, it was with only determination that Bush patrolled the island as best he could, ducking between trees as he searched for those in need of rescuing, sword drawn. He had no time to question the existence of the demons and vampires that swarmed about, he had a duty to do.
Archie had fallen behind him at some point to lead someone back to New Atlantis. Bush has just decided that it would be prudent to follow, but even as he turned someone rose from the underbrush. He must have been hidden in the greenery, though how he had gotten so close, the sailor did not know, but now the man towered over Bush, dark skin shining and covered with strange scarred markings. He had the windblown look of a sailor about him, a cold glint in his eye that claimed him as thief and criminal.
Pirate.
The man was close enough to stab, and so William did so without thought, ready to barrel past the man as he slumped to the ground, but no such thing happened. The wound healed almost instantly, the pirate merely laughed.
Bush stumbled back a few steps. "What sort of madness is this?" he uttered low, and yes, frightened.
[Mmmm zombie pirates. Bush's attacker can't die, but help a sailor out anyway? *g*]
He was not fearless, no, nor a fool. He held a healthy fear of the sea, of God, of the many perils that might befall a sailor and military man. But he had seen all those fears, time and time again. While he had no wish to face death and thought little of those who wished to become martyrs, he was no coward and would not hide from it in times of danger. He had not the temperament for psychological terrors, nor the imagination to invent monster.
But today he did not need to create them - someone had already done that for him.
Even with the madness all around him, it was with only determination that Bush patrolled the island as best he could, ducking between trees as he searched for those in need of rescuing, sword drawn. He had no time to question the existence of the demons and vampires that swarmed about, he had a duty to do.
Archie had fallen behind him at some point to lead someone back to New Atlantis. Bush has just decided that it would be prudent to follow, but even as he turned someone rose from the underbrush. He must have been hidden in the greenery, though how he had gotten so close, the sailor did not know, but now the man towered over Bush, dark skin shining and covered with strange scarred markings. He had the windblown look of a sailor about him, a cold glint in his eye that claimed him as thief and criminal.
Pirate.
The man was close enough to stab, and so William did so without thought, ready to barrel past the man as he slumped to the ground, but no such thing happened. The wound healed almost instantly, the pirate merely laughed.
Bush stumbled back a few steps. "What sort of madness is this?" he uttered low, and yes, frightened.
[Mmmm zombie pirates. Bush's attacker can't die, but help a sailor out anyway? *g*]