Faysal stood next to the wheel of the ship, his knife drawn in his left hand and placed against the pointed tip of a scar design that followed the path of the artery in his right arm. The pattern stood for a great journey, the journey away from his homeland being the event that it represents. His mind wandered to the events that caused him to impose self-exile, the blood, smoke and death that scarred his mind for so long. The scars on his mind still remained, just like the scars in his flesh. But now they did not burden him, they shaped his being and his actions. Things were different now on this pirate ship, compared to how life had been in his homeland. Many complained that it was a difficult life, however to Faysal it seemed so simple in comparison. His life had been so much harder before, the threat of death constantly at your throat and completely unavoidable. One had to embrace their own death to live, here there was at least some signs that life was more than pain and suffering punctuated by death.<br/><br/>He looked up from his scar patterns and saw that his partner had arrived, the navigator of the ship. Blue was one of the only crew members that Faysal considered a friend, and one of the only ones that bothered to talk to him and respected his code. Not that he minded no one talking to him, he honestly preferred it that way. Most of the pirates on this ship were the most vile of the vile and Faysal had no qualms with giving their blood to his God as a gift. With that thought he noticed that Blue appeared to be holding a scroll, likely with the directions for their journey on them. Faysal turned back to his scar pattern and made a very shallow cut down one side of it, just breaking the skin and causing small rivulets of blood to run down the side of his arm. He wiped the blade off on his pants and then sheathed it.<br/><br/>As Blue approached him he ran his thumb down the cut he just made, making a thick line that highlighted the scar as he closed his eyes and mumbled words to himself. He then held out his bloodied thumb to Blue, "<span style="color: red">Hold out your right arm.</span>" If Blue gave her his arm he would trace out the same pattern as is cut onto his own arm on hers with his own blood, and then mark the bridge of her nose with a horizontal line of blood before looking into the sky, closing his eyes and speaking in a reverent tone of voice, "<span style="color: red">May the Gods protect us on our coming journey.</span>" As he finished speaking he opened his eyes and looked back at Blue, a small smile on his scarred face, "<span style="color: red">Those're our directions, right?</span>"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>