<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/Izhoa.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong> Clive Hardwich. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.msg6414895#msg6414895)<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Port Diablo - The Blue Iguana.<br/><strong>Languages:</strong>English.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> No one.</div>Dark leather boots clicked lightly on the cobblestones as Clive wandered aimlessly through the many streets that crisscrossed over the dark port. His pace was slow and luxurious; in no particular hurry to reach wherever he would end up. Often he simply walked in a direction until something happened upon him, or else followed close behind Govard, always within arms reach; it wasn't appropriate for a man's 'woman' to be too far away in his presence after all. He sighed quietly to himself as he pondered where the Captain was at that moment, logic pointed to either the tavern or the ship; Clive hoped the latter since it was a good deal safer than the sometimes dangerous company one found in such places before scolding himself. Govard wasn't helpless... But still he did worry.<br/><br/>Soft humming came from his lips as he reached a hand into his pocket, taking out a small silver pocketwatch to inspect the time with a faint frown. It really was far too late to be out on such wanders, but there was little else to do owing to the sadly empty brig; a fact that would need to be changed quickly for the young man's sanity. He loathed having an empty cell, it seemed like such a waste of his time to sit alone when there were so many tongues to loosen, but alas.. Quite times had their appeal too, he supposed. He continued humming to the tune of 'my fair lady' as he walked slowly out to the main street, glancing with a small nod towards the ship that was docked; she was a wonderful mistress, and deserved due respect.<br/><br/>His gaze fell upon the swaying sign of a lizard, and the loud noises that came from within; it seemed the liveliest place, and thus the most likely to stir up some kind of trouble. While he rather hated the general filth of such places, trouble genuinely meant a need for discipline, and he was oh so fond of delivering it. A smile tugged ever so slightly on his mostly expressionless face as a pale hand pushed the door inward and he paused, having to take a moment to adjust to the strong (vile in his opinion) smell of masculine odor and vomit. Unpleasant...<br/><br/>He hovered by the entrance, stepping to the side and standing against the wall; he wasn't going to sit on anything, God-knows how dirty the place was. He was able to spy a few familiar faces but made no move towards them, or even to acknowledge them, if they wanted him they would come to him; he was hardly the social butterfly of the crew. Still his humming continued and he idly ran slender fingers through long dark hair, looking sideways to the door whenever it opened to watch who would enter. Perhaps he rather tall stature would distance him from those nearby; he held himself with the elegance and poise only nobles seemed to have, but he was certainly no noble... At least no longer.<br/><br/>Hopefully something would soon happen... Clive was not one to stand around doing nothing for very long. His fingers always began to itch eventually...