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Post by Zambezi Long on Feb 18, 2012 17:17:02 GMT -5
Petty Officer Zambezi breathed in the sea air as the ship was ready for departure. Soon, he'd be disembarking for West Blue, along with the rest of the Marines on board. His eyes scanned the horizon as he looked out over the railing. Pretty soon, he'd be far, far away from North Blue. Who knew how long it would be before he saw these sights again. He hadn't spent too long in this blue, but he'd rather liked it. Still, he wasn't exactly worried about missing this blue. Perhaps some small part of him would like to return one day, but he wasn't particularly attached to this sea. He'd been sent out here by the Marines after signing up in the Grand Line and completing his training, after all. He knew that as a Marine, you were likely to get moved around a lot and see the world. And in a sense, that was also what he wanted to do - see the world. Which was why he was ready to set sail.
The last few Marines climbed aboard the ship as they began to hoist the anchor. The winds were favorable as they blew westwards. Turning, he moved to join the group of trained men as they began to pull on ropes and hoist the sails of the Marine ship. With his might he heaved the rope, letting the sails rise and slacken in the wind as they began to feel the ship push beneath them. Tying the ropes tightly they let the sails pull them from the docks. The ship began to sway left and right, bobbing up and down with the waves, but Zambezi was long used to the rocking deck of a ship on the seas. He looked up, observing the Marine symbol flown across the main sail before he looked back, seeing the island of Kilaueu behind them, the dock mere meters away, then many, and soon all that he could still see was but a speck on the horizon. And eventually, even that speck would disappear.
But there was no time to waste on this voyage. As one of the physically stronger members of the crew, partially a result of his being a Fishman, he moved down the back of the ship, taking control of the rudder. For the next while, at the very least a couple of hours, Zambezi did little more than twist and turn the rudder to keep the ship on course, adjusting every few minutes for the ship's navigator. He felt himself sweat as he continued to work, turning the rudder against the force of the seas around them. Nevertheless, he worked tirelessly, refusing to take a break for even a moment as the other Marines worked outside. Every so often he would wipe the sweat from his brow, but still he worked himself as hard as he could. Eventually however he would finally take his well-deserved rest as yet another Marine came in to take his shift. Leaving the rudder for now, he left to take his break.
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Post by Zambezi Long on Feb 18, 2012 17:30:32 GMT -5
Zambezi sighed to himself, tired from his work on the rudder. Staying by himself in one of the cabins, he lay across one of the crew's beds. He didn't have the room alone, of course - there were several cabins devoted to large groups of Marines each, with a separate cabin for the highest ranking officials on board. Zambezi, of course, was on the bottom rung in terms of ranks, so he shared his room with a variety of other Marines. Right now, however, he was alone - the others were either at work or eating in the dining deck. His body felt sore and sweaty, but as a Marine, he figured it was only natural to feel that way. Or worse. They did have to deal with Pirates, after all, and simply sailing the seas alone was a tough enough venture for any sailor.
He wasn't sure how much time passed. He supposed it must have been a few hours now, because the sky outside his window had turned from an orange-red colour to a dark blue and finally a black sky filled with glittering stars. He'd heard how some navigators made use of the stars to find their way. A particular star that pointed north, or something, would show them the way. He didn't know a lot about stars, having lived most of his life at the bottom of the ocean, but he found them somewhat fascinating. Not fascinating enough that he would take up books and study them endlessly for days on end, but fascinating in the way a child might discover something new and become curious to know about it. The moon even more so - the shining, pale sphere in the sky grasped his attention. Were he outside, he would be gazing up at it right now.
Somewhere amidst his thoughts, he must have fallen asleep. His eyes closed gently and gave itself up to the comforting darkness of sleep. So the next morning, he woke up quite early, as expected of a Marine. His eyes gazed out to see the darkness slowly fading outside, the sun not quite up but a light shining upon the horizon. Feeling some lethargy in his movements, he nevertheless made himself get out of the bed and wander out the door, heading down the hallways to have his early morning breakfast. By the time he'd finished his meal, it had turned brighter outside, with the sun just barely above the horizon. Walking out onto the deck in the morning, he looked up to see the sails pulled still by the wind. The sight of a look-out with his telescope in the crow's nest reminded him there were some who didn't sleep that night. Looking out across the sea, he saw how the scenery had changed during the night - they had passed out from North Blue and were now in new waters. Zambezi didn't need to be told.
They had arrived at last in West Blue.
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