<div class="floatleft">(http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/21500000/Lee-Byumg-Hun-byung-hun-lee-21573838-320-480.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Ryu "Red Dragon" Jinzaburo (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=300519.msg14699769#msg14699769)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Poop Deck<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date</strong>: Day 1 | Noon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Meditating<br/><strong>Mood Music:</strong>Frederick Rousseau - La Fille De Pekin (https://youtu.be/TH4xqt4vJIE)<br/><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">He sat cross-legged upon the poop deck. As the breeze caressed his cheeks and rustled his black hair, the gentle aroma of salt filled his nostrils, coalescing with the hiss and <em>thoom</em> of the open ocean. He breathed—in and out deeply—and the ocean breathed. The sun at its peak made The Esperanza glow like bronze as the expanse of the ship extended before him like a blade cutting through the water. The flap of the sails coupled with the distant squeak of the gulls. This was sailing; and this was peace as brief as it was.<br/><br/>Ryu relished the moment. His eyes were closed as the wind passed through his loose tunic, cooling his warm skin. Physically, he was there on The Esperanza, but mentally and maybe even spiritually, he was in Japan.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: palatino linotype;"><em>A samurai officer held up a scroll before a group of Iga warriors. He announced the lord’s decree, demanding that all non-samurai surrender their swords. The Iga looked left and right at each other, and made no motion to surrender their blades. The lord’s samurai stepped forward with their hands upon the hilt of their blades. Behind them, more samurai circled blocking the doors out of the palace.<br/><br/>“There need not be bloodshed. Surrender your swords,” the officer demanded.<br/><br/>“You’re asking us to surrender our lives,” an Iga warrior, Ryu remembered, Ieji, replied.<br/><br/>“You can still serve our lord. He has not forgotten your service.”<br/><br/>“He has forgotten that we are Iga! Our blades have been passed down from our fathers. They are not just weapons. They are heirlooms. The lord wishes to take our treasures!”<br/><br/><em>CRACK!</em><br/><br/>The sudden shot from a matchlock caused several warriors to jump in startle. A scarlet ribbon of blood descended from Ieji’s chest. The Iga warrior peered down wide-eyed at the seeping hole as his legs became weak. He sank to his knees, his hands grasping the wound. An enraged scream followed. One of the samurai drew his sword and started to attack. An Iga warrior rushed to Ieji’s side to claim his sword as the warrior collapsed to his death. The court became a bloodbath as Iga fought samurai, warriors were sniped and sometimes the intended target were missed. They had to escape! They had to get out!</em></span><br/><br/>A squeak passed through his conscious. Ryu’s brows crashed together and his left hand swiftly reached out, fingers splaying before they closed about the downy, white neck of a curious gull. With his hand locked firmly about its throat, the bird squeaked in panic and flapped its wings wildly. The carpenter opened his eyes and gazed at the trapped creature. His hand was so tight with emotion as it near strangled it. Ryu’s hand shook as it seemed to take some will for his fist to suddenly open like a trap. The gull flapped and stumbled away from the meditating warrior in fear as it fled for the edge of the boat in its pathetic attempt to flee into the sky.<br/><br/>Inhaling, a deep-sea breath was taken into his diaphragm and his lips parted as he released the air and energy on an irritable hiss. It seemed that no matter how far away he sailed. His dreams always returned to Japan.</span>