It had been years since the last time he had set foot on the sea. It had felt like centuries and to return to his mistress was comforting in a way. The sway he could never truly forget, the salty taste of the air that had never left his mouth. It was a momentous day and yet it would not be celebrated. His heart pounded like that of a young lover while his body sighed in relief, all at once seeming to ease itself of a tension that he had not even realized was present. The weight of his garb was familiar in this sense where in the tavern it felt wrong, as if it wasn't his. His sword, sheathed, swung with each step and patted his leg as if urging him on toward the ship that would take him back to his goddess' arms. His boots thumped thickly against the rickety wood of the dock as workers grunted and strained with crates of supplies heading off to God knows where.<br/><br/>A breath was all it took to bring a smile to his face. The gulls squawked at each other in the air, screeching in that way that sounded more beautiful than anything his fingers could produce. He sighed as if lovestruck as a prostitute walked past him with a sailor at her heels. While the sailor's eyes were glued to his bought prize, Diego's was fixated upon his own prize, the flat line of the horizon. His guitar was perched neatly in his hands, an exotic instrument from Spain that had charmed the captain when he had heard it first nearly ten years ago. The cold iron plates fixed onto the surface added a surreal sort of beauty to the instrument as a sword adds to a woman. The weight was familiar in his arms as he started to strum lazily, the dark tone drawing the ears of those he passed before he and his lazy chords and strumming were gone.<br/><br/>As he walked up the gangplank with the grace of a man who had braved the skinny boards before, he stepped onto the deck without a word, passing by the first mate who was distracted with something else before he descended into the underbelly of the ship, looking for a hammock to claim for when it was raining in the night. The ship swayed slightly as the tides touched the ship gently, pushing it this way, then pulling it back. Almost like a mother rocking its child to sleep. In this vein, Diego had found a hammock and then simply went to sleep, his mind flooded with happiness as he relaxed beyond consciousness, his guitar still in his hands.<br/><br/>_________________________________________________________________<br/><br/>A sudden commotion is what awoke the man from his relaxed slumber. Shouts and cries of happiness could be heard emanating from above and he could only assume that the ship was finally being taken out to sea. He was as a child upon the first hours of a day without work, excited and energetic. He swung out of the hammock and onto his feet. His boots thumped against the floor with an energetic vigor as he ascended the stairs that led up to the cries of joy as men and women prepared the ship for sail. His fingers started to twitch over the strings of his guitar as his feet went to each step faster than the last. The sunlight was blinding but his eyes adjusted, his ears though were continuously assaulted by an ecstatic roar as the men and women went to their work. It was perhaps a moment where he should be attending to his own duties, the reason he was allowed to board in the first place.<br/><br/>The man, dressed as a captain, was an instant magnet of looks from the workers. He was new and would have to earn their respect before he could so much as speak a word without receiving a painful, yet friendly, beating that would serve as a sort of initiation. The first of many until he proved his salt. He smirked and simply took in the frantic, yet controlled atmosphere that surrounded him before he went up to the main mast where the first mate had taken her place and oversaw preparations. The roaring died for a moment as Diego sat down with his back against the large cylinder of lumber. He brandished his guitar, an instrument that many, if not all, of the others had never seen before now. The silence continued as Diego took a breath and cleared his throat, readying it, like a cannoeer to his cannon. Then<a class="externalLink" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qp3KPvdiDQw&amp;feature=related" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">his fingers started to strum the instrument</a>, letting music pour forth to help spur on the others.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>