However, even that was not allowed to one of the group of men currently travelling on the ship. Why, one may ask? Well, quite simple. A white haired young man sat inside a large, wooden crate, with no light other than that which filtered from the top of the ship and through the holes in the enormous box. Munching whatever was left from the supplies he had brought with himself to survive the trip and make it to Hargeon, the man was doing his best to focus on one of his most developped skills; the art of chillin'. In a position some may have even assumed to be uncomfortable, the late teenager lazily rolled his eyes, trying to figure when in the world would they reach their destination.
But what was he doing there, though? Why wasn't he in a room, our out in the deck? The answer was quite simple. At first, he had attempted to board the ship the normal way, but was quickly kicked out for two reasons: first, one needed to have a passport in order to travel throughout Earthland, and two, he was broke as hell. Other than a small amount of jewels, he had no means of paying for the ride... but it turned out he needed it, so he took the best and simplest course of action: yep, he was deadheading all the way to his target location.
It wasn't like they would be able to do anything to him now that they had been travelling for a couple of days, and if shit hit the fan... well, he'd figure things out. The tall man scratched his bare chest with a lazy hand; given the heat inside the crate, he had to get out of his favourite trench coat, which was basically his second skin. Just when he was about to take another nap, the much awaited shout was issued. "LAND AHOY!"
As these words entered his ears, the white haired male opened his right eye right as a half-grin was drawn on his lips. -About damn time! -Vargas Seig exclaimed out loud, only to realize he might have screwed up things in the last moment. Luckily enough, everyone was busy preparing the ship for the arrival on port. He could overhear the sailors talking about building supplies and some sort of repairs, but it was none of his business. After another hour passed, he could feel the boat finally stopped moving, which gave him all the information that he needed to know. With that in mind, he patiently awaited for the crew to come pick the crates; he had seen them doing so manually before, so he would be kept company for a bit more.
It wasn't long until a group of men finally did as expected and began unloading, first taking the crates to the shore. He did not want to risk being picked up by any sort of Lacrima powered machine, so he would have to make a quick escape. Carefully gathering his belongings and putting his coat over his shoulder with one arm, he laid on the ground, surveying the holes on top. The moment the crate was left on the deck was his signal. -"Alright then... let's rock!"
A powerful kick delivered by both feet was enough to shatter the top of the wooden crate, all heads turning towards him. Vargas hastily jumped out of his confinement, and looked at all of the crew, whose activity had been paralyzed. As one opened his mouth, the stowaway moved his hand and opened his palm, signaling him to let him talk. -It's been a pleasant journey, but it's about time we parted ways. Thanks for bringing me here, I'll be sure to pay something to your company once I've earned a bit of money! -he spoke while cracking up an amused smile.
Of course, the reaction would be amazingly quick. All of them attempted to catch he who had sort of illegally entered Fiore. Vargas had no idea if that was a major crime, and honestly, he did not want to find out either, so the man quickly jumped from the ship towards the port, and began running away. As he surveyed his surroundings, he could see everything in a wrecked state, being repaired by a lot of workers. Well, he had heard that Hargeon town had been shaken by disaster not so long ago.
-"OI, YOU! WAIT UP!"
-Thanks, but no thanks! You can send me the bill later! -the male said with his typical uncaring attitude, treating the persecution as a simple game.
It took him a couple of laps around the place to get lost, and lose his pursuers as well, who had likely given up for the time being. Once he realized, he lowered his pace, and wiped a couple of white locks off his eyes, returning them to their usual position. Vargas would then put on his red coat again.
-"Now, that's better."
Once everything was set, the man began taking his first steps in unknown land. Where was he, exactly? All he knew was that the wrecked port was Hargeon... and of course, stowaways were not given maps or any touristical advice.
However, even in foreign ground and completely lost, he simply put his half-smile on again and shrugged, beginning to walk as he dropped one simple comment:
-Things always gotta be complicated!