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

Desiree studied him intently, although her golden eye remained a mere decoration for the time being. With both of her eyes free, she could finally see more, enjoying the liberty while it lasted. She could see him tense when her soft hand came in contact with as much as the cloth covering his knee. Curious, she nodded slowly. ''Fair enough,'' she replied, the room returning to the initial state, returning the odour and the incredible amount of dust to her attention. In spite of the slight inconvenience, she was content, seemingly completely relaxed. It was an illusion learnt through time - her senses remained keen, the woman ready to attack if needed to, yet her body was almost limp, building up adrenaline that could result in her rescue. She knew that she would have to fight long and hard with the man, if a battle ever took place. Meanwhile, unlike him, she deemed them almost equals. While she wasn't quite as physically strong as him merely due to the fact that she was a woman and could push herself that far without turning into a ball of muscle, she was agile and her mind was about as strong as his one. In the end, everything came down to luck, pure and simple. Lost in thoughts, she tried to figure out her further actions. His silence pushed her to believe that he was considering her offer, most likely agreeing to it. It was either that or one of them died. She discreetly looked around, frowning at the idea of finding herself tangled with the rest of organs on the ground. She brushed the messy wave of hair out of her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips unconsciously. She needed a crew in order, showing complete obedience to her in order to prevent a revolt on the ship. He, meanwhile, had the ability to disrupt the careful peace by defying her. She sensed the unpleasant shivers run down her spine as she imagined the manslaughter his attitude could bring upon the ship. While he wasn't likely to take on the sixty or so men located on board of the Black Pearl, she was certain that he would manage to easily take out a dozen. Shaking away the oddly depressing thoughts, she glanced at him again, the male still weighing the pros and cons of her offer or thinking of the best way to take her out. Letting the silence prevail, she thought of the things he could bring to her ship if he did what she asked. The power, the fear...Her eyes almost glowed with hunger for those. She was ambitious, almost greedy and partially insane. She was seeking the impossible. Eternal life. The Black Pearl managed to stay in the ocean's waters for a reason - it was quick and unpredictable. Instead of remaining fixated upon a merchant road, it flailed about, bringing confusion to the fellow pirates and the Naval dogs. It was odd, yet nobody realized that behind the seemingly irrational actions there was a precise goal. She wanted to find the way to gain access to eternity by any means, searching every continent for old manuscripts, maps and even hoping to discover the Davy Jones' ship somewhere along the road. There were skeptics on board, yet nobody could say a word since she has discovered the last map. One that would bring her to the other end of the world, uncovering the source of eternal youth. It was a dangerous journey, another reason for his presence on board. The last map was a series of pieces, held by influential people all over the globe. After the years of research and mapping, she could state with certitude that she knew the location of the last piece, one containing instructions regarding the voyage. That last clue was well protected, no man ever able to cross the passage into the cave where it was kept. She felt a pang of pain run through her heart as she thought of the dead Perrault, remembering that glower in his eyes whenever he thought that they were getting closer to their goal. She promised that he would not have to sneak into her cabin at night once it was done - out of a wave of enthusiasm and genuine attraction. That they would share the glory. Instead, she was sitting in the dark next to a man who was holding her fate between his hands. The truth, bitter and cruel, brought her back to reality with his words. She regarded him without uttering a word, arching an eyebrow. She has heard of the binding, yet no man has ever offered such a thing to her. She wasn't sure of the implications of that action, thus hesitating for a moment while he pulled out a knife from his boot. Her nose twitching with disdain, she shook her head. ''I'm not cutting myself with that,'' she stated, certain that he didn't bother cleaning the blade after his killings. ''I, too, have a condition. Once we are back on board, I am the Captain,'' she stated, delivering the dagger at the level of her hip a tug, pulling it out. ''I do not care how you address me if we are to be alone, yet I need respect and obedience in front of my crew. I do not ask for much,'' she added, her hand holding on to the cold arm sliding down, slicing her palm open. She was careful not to wince, her expression remaining apathetic through the words and actions - a moment of emotions was a moment of weakness. She rarely allowed herself to have those. Opening her palm, blood trailing down her skin and falling to the ground, she watched him, expecting him to complete the brief ritual. She had a hard time understand the reason for his desire to bind her to him, since she would be able to feel what he felt as much as he could feel what she did yet she wasn't one to complain. The ability to know his location was recomforting, most likely avoiding her sleepless nights, wondering if he would decide to give in to his animalistic instincts and slice her throat open.