The Waters always seemed to be calm now with his Mother gone. Was he loved by the Sea? Little Mo didn't know but was grateful for this due to how he traveled. He had awaited for everyone to board the ship, and when it began to move from the dock on Java he followed. It moved at a steady pace, something he could keep up with while he swam so casually. He hadn't left the South in years, but he was doing so today. He wanted to embrace these warm and polluted waters just a little longer. Just so he didn't get lost he'd plan to board after some time.
Following him were a school of fish, mutated slightly due to the Plague Rains. They looked tasty but they weren't the meat Little Mo wanted, or needed right now. He was full for the time being also, something he was glad for. As he didn't trust himself to not touch the others on the Ship aside from one person. Making mistakes like that has cost him and placed him in debt. 'Oh, so bright and clean was the South. Now muddy and grey, I pray for another day. One that will stop the death and dismay. Mother, hear my inner voice in the form of song. Bellowing deep from the mind of mine. On honey soaked melodies of timeless thought. I know I promised not to leave till that fateful day. But give me leeway in my Master plan. Oh, Mother Calypso. Pray that my journey be one of safe passage through hell.'
Little Mo couldn't sing, that is why he kept these words in his mind. He'd use his slime to cling to the vessel, not wanting to ruin the oak by digging his fingers into it. He'd climb and climb, quickly and without pause. Arriving to the hatch that could brandish a cannon. He'd secrete enough slime between the crack, forcing it to slight open. He'd use his free hand to to the rest of the work. He climbed in without making a sound. Not like a Ninja his usual attire would mark him. No, he moved with the known how on moving in and around a ship like a sailor of a opposing force. That is the mindset he had when officially arriving onboard. The way it swayed became familiar quicker than his breathe. 'He said no one would be below deck, but I still will tread lightly. Since only two know of me. Moving as a stowaway would be best.'
This Ship was not one for combat, due to the amount of cargo space. If anything it was more leisure than anything. If a Ship built for raiding came however Little Mo didn't know what would happen. There is no telling of the strength of the others hired for this job. If more Fishman were brought cannons would just take up space. As there was nothing stronger than a Fishman, or Merfolk, at Sea. Despite how people view them in the South there were still many strong enough to handle themselves and garner decent work. Little Mo knows this from experience. Having taught a few, back in the day, how to use the very Sea or any Water for that matter to their advantage.
He didn't keep track of time, not at all. When they would arrive is when they'd arrive. In the mean time he would look for the information he was promised. 'I will place it in a crate, along with some food. That is what White hair said. The crate should be marked with my name.'
Little Mo would shuffle through cargo, as best he could without making noise. It only took three tries to find the crate with 'Mo' written on the top. Little Mo ignored the food, as he didn't want any. The small black book was something he was fine with having. He'd close the crate, after taking out the food. He'd be using it later, but rather it not rot in the crate. Fruits and vegetables can always be used. He'd sit with his back against the crate, and shift through the booklet. It was detailed more than he thought it would be. Names and actually sketches of people's face.
'So she is coming.' Little Mo stopped on the page with the picture of Mel. He had abandoned her after he saw what she did to fellow Fishman. Acts like that don't really bother him, unless a Mermaid does them. He holds them at a higher standard. It wasn't the worst thing She could do, but something he didn't think she should've. Little Mo didn't kill them because he felt something bad would come if he did. However, thinking about them was a waste of time at this moment. He was leaving the South. Any anger they'd bring would be waiting for them upon returning.
Last Edit: Jul 5, 2020 8:36:01 GMT -8 by Little Mo
