Thread: Yo Ho, Ho, And A Bottle of Rhum on a Dead Man's Chest;;

''Tic, tac, tic, tac,'' mused the Captain, her soft and melodious voice empty of the stern, detached notes she reserved for interaction. Torean was running late, yet somehow she knew that he would come. It didn't come close to worrying her. Her mind was heavy with thoughts, the day exhausting in every way. Shifting about, she leaned over a rail, studying the soft sways of the dark waters, her free eye taking in the pleasant, peaceful sight. Every muscle in her body was relaxed as the docks were completely devoid of life, no man present within a several hundreds meter radius. For the first time in years she allowed herself a moment of silence, one she thought she could dedicate to herself. One would have thought that it was easy, merely governing a crew of men, shouting out orders and enjoying the wealth and power it brought. Of course, there were the perks. She had her quarters that were decorated first, she was the first one to choose her share of the bounty yet the Pirates' Code was strict, limiting her severely. The Code was hung on her Quarters' doors, there to be honoured and remembered. It held the vital rules necessary to keep the crew in order. A rule mentioned that the knives and pistols were to be kept clean at all times, ready for the battle. There were no battles, no snapping guns to be held on the ship among the members. The list went on and on, ranging from the most mundane and obvious orders to rather odd and complicated ones that certain men were barely able to understand. While the Code was limiting, she respected it. Piracy was her religion, her life and her everything. The men in her crew were not mere strangers to be ordered around, they were as a pack of wolves - they needed an alpha to survive. For the same reasons there have been occasional revolts with men arguing that a woman was back luck for a ship. However, each and every member soon understood that it was not the case. She smiled at the memories of endless sleepless nights she spent working on herself to become a perfect Captain. She had the ambition and the leadership skills, yet many pieces were lacking. It was one of the reasons she wanted eternity. She was seeking perfection in everything - ranging from battle skills to arts, philosophy and physics. There was not a single book on any ship they raided she did not bring with herself, especially if it was a manuscript or something of value. Her knowledge of art brought the crew many a prosperous trips, one or two paintings bringing enough income to feed the entire ship for almost a week. All seemed fine, yet a good pirate was a dead pirate, so she never stopped assessing herself publicly as the main figure on the ship. Each man had a vote, it was a democracy otherwise. And every ruler knew that democracy seldom led to much good for them. It was selfish yet true. These men were strong, some fast and others sly, yet most wouldn't have been able to know what to do if they were to be left to their own devices. This constant drain of energy and emotions had quite a reflection on her life. She barely had the time to breath, much less to make lovers. Certainly, she once or twice found a man from a foreign country merely to discover whether they were truly better lovers or not, and Perrault has been sharing her bed for a while yet it did not fulfil her somehow. There was an emptiness inside, seeking for a man who could challenge her instead of silently complying. One that would dare to contradict her, even anger her. Getting deeply into her emotional dilemmas, she suddenly felt something. The cursed bond just as she deemed herself alone, allowing herself to feel a longing, a solitude even, everything had to be stopped. The demon could not find her vulnerable like that, she did not wish for him to crack her armor. Instead, she locked down her own emotions, listening to his ones. An overwhelming hunger filled her veins, causing her to arch an eyebrow. It was so strong she felt herself lick her lips yet quickly shook it off, pushing the male's feelings aside with all her might. It took some getting used to - perhaps she would be able to lock his emotions and urges out of her head, otherwise it would drive her crazy. The little privacy she had was getting stripped away. Not only could she feel the evil growing, the demon clearly having taken over, she could almost see it. A whisper resonated in her head faintly, the bloodlust growing by the second as it hasn't been satisfied. She wondered how it felt to constantly be hungry, enough to kill the innocent and the young. She shut her eyes, attempting to procreate an image yet it seemed that the bond was not strong enough to do that. Instead, she pictured the events in her mind. She could see him roaming the streets with that hungry look on his face, that horrifying smile with pointy teeth and that horrible odour of rotten flesh clinging to his skin. Nauseated, she inhaled the fish scented salty air, feeling a wave of relief. She suddenly felt a new emotion. It felt like lust, excitement. The most carnal of his senses have been activated, seeking a relief. That meant that there was a girl somewhere, she figured, hopeful that he did not feel such things toward an innocent child or even worse a baby. She could feel the fear, confused for a few moments until she figured out that it was the person getting killed that was feeling it. The lust then subsided, pushing her to figure out that it partially belonged to the girl. Then, everything was still. The evil calmed down, darkness diminishing into the emptiness until the feeling she was already accustomed to remained. Desiree's lips briefly formed a pout as she imagined him coated in blood. ''I hope you have the decency to clean up,'' she mumbled to herself, hopeful that he would somehow figure out the source of her discontentment and do what she wanted him to. She then thought back to the scene at his house. Somehow, only the demon displayed the foul carrion smell while the male appeared to have never even touched any. The two were confusing her increasingly. He was his vessel, yet why didn't the demon get rid of him? Or why did he not get rid of the demon? There was surely a way for the two to do so. She bit on her thumb, trying to figure it out. There have been strange sea creatures, a mermaid or two, curses and witches yet never a man like him. ''Who the hell are you, Torean?'' She whispered into the emptiness, shivering when the chilly wind his her bare lower back, goose bumps spreading across her skin. For some reason, a part of her longed to be close to him. Perhaps it was due to the bond, perhaps there was something else. The mystery about him, no matter how terrifying, made her curiosity spike. She wanted to be the one to figure him out, to understand the source of his power...perhaps eventually gain it if it was within her ability. Looking around, she shook her head, astonished by the demon's actions. Late already when he had to go through the ceremony. Each newcomer had to go through the sacred sermon, one made after the meeting has been held. She didn't quite need the meeting - most of her sailors were too afraid to speak up or even vote against her will. In spite of that, to maintain the illusion of democracy the meeting has been held on the ship, the preliminary round showing that every man was accepting him. There have been some annoyed grumbles about the lack of a competition and the fact that perhaps he was not right for the team yet every one wanted to finally reached their destination and thus they voted with a 'yes'. Of course once the crew got to meet him, those who were against could hold a new meeting yet seeing how fast things were turning out to be, she doubted that anything of such sort would happen. The wind blew once again, letting the dark reddish brown hair swing along her face. She watched her reflection, her body distorted in an amusing fashion. Chuckling softly, she reached out, her other self reaching back out. The brief moment of laughter brought back a wave of flashbacks ones that were not welcome and forbidden. She could hear her mother's gentle voice calling out for her and her two brothers, urging them to return home. She could remember her mother scolding them for treating her like a boy, scolding her for acting like one, while her father sucked on his pipe with a bemused air. It was only later, when her older brother - her hero, passed away that Desiree saw the true reason for the scolding. There was reproach, guilt and hatred in her mother's eyes. It was then that she started questioning the reality, the truthfulness of her father's story. At times she wondered, what if it was true. At others, she remembered the pink frilly dresses she had to wear, the Sundays of going to the dreaded church. After the years, she hasn't managed to find faith in God. The only thing she trusted was the direction of wind and the wavering of the sea. God was an abstraction, there when one needed hope. Her pirates were allowed to practice Christianity or Buddhism, since five males originated from countries located in Eastern Asia, yet none actually did. Her head heavy with nostalgia and the barely present memories of her past, she tried to think of different things. She thought of the new places to discover, the new people to meet and kill. The first target would bring them to a powerful sorceress, and it was always a joy to meet other powerful women. After all, the oppressive reality did not allow women to become much more than prostitutes or wives and mothers. It did not make much sense to her, since she has defeated many in battle, yet the society was strict. It was one of the reasons many became pirates. They were hungry, poor rebels who grew into wealthier, full adventure driven daredevils. Their codes were a lot fairer, and wars among groups and the formations of strategic alliances were very rare at the time. Glancing up at the moon that illuminating her face, she did not realize that she looked like the fragile woman the world expected her to be at that very moment. Her smooth skin glowing slightly, she seemed frail, tiny and alone. Hearing steps, or perhaps she simply felt him close, she was not used to the bond enough to be able to tell, the Captain smirked. ''Good evening, sailor,'' she replied, briefly motioning him to follow. The ship was very close by, ready for his arrival. She walked in silence for a few moment, her steps similar to those of a cat. It was one of her ways of controlling the ship. She could crawl up to anyone without making a single sound, which pushed the men to a higher discipline. Her hips still held their inviting sway, her body lithe and voluptuous. Glancing back up at the man, she shook her head slightly. ''I believe that little bond we share has quite a few disadvantages,'' she stated, crossing her arms under her chest, attempting to hide the fact that she was cold and wanted to get out of the clothes she felt smelt like decomposition. ''You are a sick, sick puppy,'' the woman added with a snicker, a soft yawn escaping her lips. The twenty four previous hours were sleepless for most of the crew and everyone was eager to get the ceremony over with an get back to their warmer beds. ''You will meet the crew now,'' she stated, her hand instinctively brushing the 'P' burnt on her skin. ''The introduction will come later, if you wish. The men are tired, they deserve rest. So we are going to hold the initiation ceremony, it will take a few minutes, you will see,'' she continued, trying to inform him of everything that would happen at once. ''Then, I will show you your temporary lodging and we can call it a night, unless there is something else you want,'' she finished, seemingly completely used to him. It was most likely due to their bond, as she has gotten a far better understanding of what he was like. Walking up to the ship, she arrived directly at the forecastle deck to the spot she claimed as her own for announcements and such. Waiting for him, she slid two fingers into her mouth, letting out a piercing whistling sound, the crew assembling at an almost record speed.