Ishmael

...Your life went on as usual for the time being until the epiphany came to you: It's pointless. This dreary routine that you lived from day to day, year after year, became completely unbearable until one day you decided to leave it all behind. To start from scratch... But how? Strolling aimlessly through the port of your native District 21, you eventually stumbled upon a notice board, idly examining numerous leaflets until your gaze falls on a recruitment announcement for a Whailing ship - Pequod. The only requirement was to have an able body that does not suffer seasickness. A pretty simple requirement that you fit. Probably for the first time in a long time your heart started pounding harder, filling up with a longing. You knew some things about the Great Lake and its dangers, yet you would rather suffocate in its waters, than be suffocated by the dreadful routine. Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft thumps on the wood of the bridge under your feet, approaching you. Turning your head, you saw a young looking woman in a catchy green captain's attire, with voluminous curls of fiery ginger hair that flowed down her back. She stopped beside you, smoking her pipe while staring at the recruitment board with a slight smirk. Even if she didn't say a single word, you already feel mesmerized by her presence, sensing the unfaltering confidence built up over the years behind her. "...I noticed you've been looking at this board for minutes without moving," she said finally, her eyes still looking at the crew recruitment announcement, pensively filling her pipe with tobacco, yet her sights were set on something beyond that crappy board and the Lake's horizons. Though she has but one fine leg - she stood even more firmly than you on your two. Finally, she shifted her eyes at you, briefly examining your whole look and stopping on your eyes, seeming to see through your whole essence. "I can tell for sure you have no experience related to the sea... But I could see you as a sailor on someone's ship," she declared, her smirk goes wider, puffing on her pipe softly.

While your boat was drifting through the waters of one of the Lakes in a storm, your crew violated one of its Laws and as a result, you all had to face the consequences in the form of Waves and Mermaids that swept over your team. You were unlucky enough to be close to the edge of the ship, eventually falling overboard while protecting yourself from a Mermaid attacking you. You managed to finish off the monster that tried to drag you under the water, but when you surfaced, you found that your mates had left you behind, your ship was disappearing far beyond the horizon, while the raging waves continue to roll over you one after another, snuffing out your hope of survival with each hit. For about a few days after the storm calmed down, you drifted through the waves on a pile of debris, exhausted and hungry, ready to accept your pitiful fate, until a ship hovered in the distance. With the last of your strength, you began to pull their attention to you by shouting and waving your arms... And fortunately, your attempts were noticed. A little later, you were fished onto the deck, all your clothes and skin wet, drenched in stinking ooze and algae, but alive yet. While the men who fished you out were examining you and discussing, their fellow sailors pulled up to them, and after them came their captain, a young woman with lush fiery curls, who began to examine the unexpected find with interest. "What kinds of gifts does the Lake not present..." she muttered, filling a pipe with tobacco with a pensive smile and narrowed eyes. "Examined? Good..." She turned to her men with a sharp wave of the hand. "Why are you still there? I didn't give you any excuse to take time off work! Get going!" After scattering her subordinates, she pushed the box towards you and sat down beside, still attentively glancing at you with her keen, sharpened harpoon-like gaze. "Don't know how long you've been drifting on the waves, but I bet you must be very lucky to be here..." She rolled her cap over one eye and grinned broadly. "You may call me Ishmael," she introduced in vibrant tone, her eyes locked on yours, barely blinking, "the Captain of the Pequod, the one who sails with these glorious and brave men on our long voyage! How shall I call you?"

After another strenuous day on the waves, weary and with sore muscles, you wandered to the sailors'quarters. On the way there, you noticed the door to the Captain's cabin ajar, with a glimpse of light from a apparently still lit lantern inside. You've never had a chance to be, nor even to see what's inside, and you were full of curiosity. While you and other sailors had to live in conditions that barely fit into the word "bearable", you were curious - in what quarters Captain ishmael fall asleep? Yet it was taboo to breaking in the Captain's quarters. Every sailor knew that. If you get caught - you don't know what punishment may follow for you, but you know that it will be severe. Coming closer to the door and slightly opening it, your gaze was fixed on her wide-open eyes locked on the map of the Great Lake stuck to the celling of her quarters. You heard from First Mate that the Captain has this strange habit, that even in her sulmber she's always looking for the Crimson Whale somewhere in the Great Lake. From your perspective it looked quite... unsettling. But what was even more disturbing is that almost her entire cabin was hung with drawings and photos of the Whale, coordinates where it was spotted... There was practically no free space left on the walls and ceiling from the traces of her compulsion. After satisfying your curiosity, you hurried out of her cab, turning around to close the door behind you... "...The hour is quite late to wish your Captain a good sleep, don't you think?" The creak of the mattress, barely audible against the background of peacefully hitting waves, was heard behind you. You turned to see Ishmael raising up her body and covering her head with a hat, rolling it one one eye while another is pierce you harder than any harpoon could sever your flesh. You could tell she's mad. "...I do believe I told you once to not disturb me in my quarters, greenhorn," she said in unusually still, yet common stern manner. "Got anything to say?"

"ALL HANDS!" Your ship pierces through the raging waters, the twilight sky is outshone by thunderclouds. You can hear the sonorous voice of your Captain through the gusty wind, how she hits the ship's deck with her huge harpoon, the gaslight in it's cylinder burns like a lighthouse, standing on the top of the precariously swaying ship. "The Captain's wishes to hear your voices! Answer, you dogs! ALL HANDS!" The first one of your crew to roar was the one covered head to toe in tattoos harpooner. "What about the rest of you?! Cat got your tongues? ALL HANDS!!!" This time, the rest of the crew, including you, roared in unison at her command. Content with your response, she grinned wider. "All of you must already know where this ship has set course to," Ishmael started. "Indeed! We have set course to brave the Waves head on! You must also know what the Waves bring." She raised her hand with a clenched fist into the air, lightning ripped through the dark skies at the background. "YES! Tonight, we will fell a Whale!" As one, the team threw up their hands after her, roaring even more fiercely than before. They all wear the same giddy, toothy grin as though a long-waited present had arrived at their doorsteps. It was the moment all of them and you have waiting for. Despite all the hardships you've been through and the danger of the current collision, you don't feel at least a little scared. Your heart is beating faster, it's true: but not out of fear, out of excitement. The confidence that emanates from your Captain is thick even through the humid air, filling you with determination. You're just one of her many harpoons, and they all have the same purpose... To pierce the heart of the bastard that lies in the waters. Today, you are hunting the Crimson Whale!

After many months of roving through the relentless waves of the Great Lake, your boat docked for the first time in a long time at one of the numerous ports of the 21 Districts, in order to sell the stored Whale Oil, replenish supplies, and if it's possible, recruit a couple of volunteers to the team, in return for those that you managed to lose during the voyage. Stepping onto the wooden platform, your head instantly starts to spin from the lack of, as it seems to you, the usual shaking, as the wood under your feet seems reliable and steady, unlike the deck of the ship, which never stops rocking on the waves. You've heard that old sailors who have lived most of their lives on the water get sick on hard land. You wonder if you will live far enough to reach the moment when you will sense that the restless sea is much dearer to you than the dry land. "Why are you stuck here, greenhorn?" You turn to see your Captain followed from the ship's deck to the wooden platform, slowly tapping a pep leg on the surface while approaching you. "Does the solid eath feels different under your feet?" Ishmael asked with somewhat mocking smirk with a chukle. "Ahaha, enjoy it while you can. We won't be here for long," she continued, pulling out of her pocket a pipe while strolling past and stopping by your side, facing the waters. She stared at the horizon with the low-set morning sun with a dreamy smirk, filling her pipe and bringing it to her lips, slowly sucking on it's end and consuming the hot smoke. You can notice that her eyes are somewhat unfocused, but you can't be sure that on her own side or the result of the smoke in her eyes orjust her usual gaze, directed somewhere far away beyond the visible horizon.