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Post by Spammich on Nov 29, 2006 16:22:41 GMT -5
Polly gave a shrill yelp as the sword almost took off his nose, but he reached around one othe the rungs of the railing to catch the quicky falling rope that had both Trey and Precious hanging on it. His grip was like iron and stopped the doomed descent of two of the most important things that existed in the world to the gimp.
Precious mewed loudly as the sea rush toward her and the captain and the sudden stop of the rop before nearly plunging into the salty expanse below jerked her off balance and sent her sliding down Trey's back. Lucky for her she had claws, which she instinctively dug into the pirate's flesh to stablilize herself and save her kitty neck. She climbed back up onto Trey's shoulder and purred an apology.
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Post by Trey on Nov 29, 2006 21:27:51 GMT -5
Trey winced, not only had the initial jolt and sudden stop caused him to slide down the rope and give him a severe case of ropeburn, but the cat that had freed him had instinctively clawed the living shit out of his back. Once the cat was perched, though, the captain gave a reluctant sigh and shook his head, how could someone be mad at something so freakishly cute, AND eats rats? Trey quietly made his ascent to the railing and gripped it firmly. Noting Polly, he gave a curt nod, signaling that he had a good enough hold.
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Post by lor344 on Dec 1, 2006 23:17:51 GMT -5
Amidst the raging battle, Precious yowls, and occassional yells Kathrine slept on. A concusion enduced slumber perhaps, but sleep none the less.
Mouse was laying flat on the floor, one hand laying limply parrellel to her shoulder whilst the other rested gently on her chest. Raven locks of hair lay splayed out around her delicate head while some fell softly over her pale, malnutritiouned face. Her breath came in deep and softly but a tad rattley, signally difficulty.
One leg was layed out straight infront the other buckled underneath her from where she had fallen. Her dress had come up just above her knees and a faint scar could be seen trailing up the exposed leg. On her exposed ankle there was an outline , a thick band circling the ankle that was faint but appeared to be off-colored skin, perhaps from lack of sunlight. Come to think of it simialar markings could be seen on her wrists.
Back at her face, forhead rather, the place at which she had been struck was getting worse. It had begun to swell, a large discolored circle that went back partially into sleek raven hair. The part that was visible was many colors, deep purples mixed with blues as well as swirling greens and browns. A true headache enducer to be sure.
So Mouse remained, unconcious in the galley while the ship continued to rock with the waves, sending a few shelved items to the ground again that had been knocked loose.
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Post by Clover on Dec 2, 2006 0:55:39 GMT -5
[thanks for the wishes, and yeah.. its serious... thus the lack of postage for forever. murr]
Skye's little joke had brought a small smile to Cadiz' lips. But it quickly faded as his hand shifted, the better to reach for his dagger at a moment's notice. "If you can not do the job, or will slow me down, then do not bother accompanying me above decks.. it will be vicious."
His tone brooked no arguement, and his eyes narrowed viciously at the sounds of battle. After the scene in the healery, he felt the vicious rush of anger and revelled in it. He wanted to rip, to fight, to kill and cut and maim--vengeance for the men who had met their deaths in those damned beds.
So he took the stairs upwards at a run, emerging into the heat of battle and immediatly unsheathing the dagger. Faceless hordes, overrunning both ships, and he hissed a curse under his breath as he parried a slash from one of the pirates. There, he could see McDougle battling it out with some bloody pirates.
He hoped, fiercely, that the brawny man would simply do away with the pirates. But the next instant, he was busy, as one of the pirates swung a cutlass at him. Meeting it with his rapier, he pushed back with all his weight--little though it was--and in that instant of respite, looked around for Skye.
Hopefully, the wench had realized the predicament and done something useful. Speaking of which, he reminded himself, he'd left the hatch to below-decks unguarded. Dodging the next swing, he darted through the morass of bodies to stand just in front of the hatch, rapier and dagger in hand. Let them come and try, he mused to himself. Let them try.
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Post by Trey on Dec 2, 2006 3:13:01 GMT -5
Suddenly, in the midst of battle, the pirates all let out cheers and heartfelt cries, for far back at the end of the ship, their missing captain stood, McDougle's falchion in his hand.
The pirate captain leapt off the upper deck, landing lightly, catching his descent with one hand on the ground. Trey looked up, a fire in his eyes. Something about this adventure had rekindled the eagerness of their task. "Come on boys, no time to waste with Brittain's navy! We've got a job to do!"
"Men! We strive to be great!" The pirate was talking directly to his men now, he spoke as if the navy sailors weren't even in his presence, "Soon enough, you will all answer to the King of the Seas!" The Truthless' captain thrust the sword into the air and yelled the command to retreat back to their ship. He had no time to waste, and had no intention of duking it out with the Evangalion and it's more than capable captain. He'd prove to be a challange, and challanges are what made people great.
But first, Trey wanted to bring back a prize...
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Post by lor344 on Dec 2, 2006 10:58:09 GMT -5
In the meantime Hitari was busy kicking major navy butt. Her sword was held firmly in her grasp, she would not use her pistol until she had no other alternative.
Violet hues lock with another opponent and a smirk graces her lips as she lunges towards him. Suddenly she heard a raised voice and blinks, looking up and knocking the enemy out of the way. Her eyes fall upon that of her captain and she listens intetnyl.
Leave? But they just got here. Heaving a reluctant sigh she heads back to the Truthless, sheathing her sword on the way.
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Post by lor344 on Dec 4, 2006 17:16:23 GMT -5
((*has killed the rp*))
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Post by Trey on Dec 4, 2006 22:06:57 GMT -5
((Way to go! >=o))
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Post by lor344 on Dec 4, 2006 23:00:45 GMT -5
((*cringe*))
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Post by starvingartist on Dec 5, 2006 1:04:36 GMT -5
((Sorry to hear that it's serious, Clover. Hope he recovers!))
Skye stared after Cadiz for a moment, reeling. Nineteen years of growth and maturity spiralled out of her, and she folded her arms petulantly. "Who is he to tell me what I cannot do!" she said, scowling like a toddler. "I'm not going to sit here and wait until he tell me I can do something, only to be too late!" Regardless of the knowledge that the only time she was useful with a knife was when she was healing, she stormed up the stairs. Her tailbone ached, sharp needles of pain accompanied her every step, but before long she was abovedeck, and staring at the Truthless. She saw, to her shock, the captain and many members of the crew - all whom she thought to be dead. "Captain!" she hollered, waving. She drew her knife, and Gods help whomever stopped her from making it to that ship.
((Err...does anyone have any idea where the Truthless is headed? Or is it just randomly at sea?))
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Post by Clover on Dec 5, 2006 1:46:24 GMT -5
[well, he's coming home, so it could be worse. Its kind of a matter of a liver+lungs+kidneys that are being tetchy. But he's coming home! Thanks for the wishes..]
Cadiz had whirled, rapier in hand when he'd heard feet rocketing up the stairs. It wasn't inconcievable that someone had found an alternate way into the ship itself. And then Skye clambered out and into the light, and he took a breath. False alarm, then--though it would be no little danger to have her running around with a dagger. She held it like a healer, not a killer, and so he moved closer to her, the better to shield her.
He'd come to tolerate the surgeon, and because she was a medic and useful to have around, he couldn't let harm come to her. But then the air in his lungs turned to ash and vineagar as she raised a hand and called to the Pirate captain.
And he just knew she'd sworn up and down that she wasn't a pirate. A bitter little smile worked its way onto his features, and he felt something inside him freeze. His steps were deliberate, steady, as he moved to step in front of her. He parried the occasional thrust with ease, barely giving the blows the time of day. His eyes were on Skye as she started to the Truthless.
And then he stepped into her way, rapier drawn. Though his eyes were focused on her, he seemed aware of the possibility of a melee fight, and kept his guard up. "Not a pirate, hmm? Wench, you will stay your ground."
And there it was again, that aloof and imperious tone, his eyes cold as the grave. "Or I will cut you down."
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Post by AndrogynousMelon on Dec 5, 2006 2:09:18 GMT -5
The idea of death flitted briefly across her mind. It had been a distant thing in battle, until now. Death was reserved for frail, weak women with rattle-cage lungs on crisp, white sheets. Bella had always thought herself too beautiful for death, too strong. But now, as she was bleeding and sweating, it moved a fraction closer. Perhaps she could make this too a thing of beauty. It wasn't as if she'd go without a fight. The idea of being a martyr was even slightly appealing. And then she'd heard Trey. Rather than be heartened by his words, she was insulted. Strove to be great? Strove to? Bella strove for nothing! She simply was whatever she wished to be, and that was the end of that. Moved by her anger, she fought faster, harder. Her fingertips ached from tearing through flesh so she loosed Draco's dagger from its sheath and began slicing as she whirled. She spun and sprayed glittering arcs of crimson over the deck, her own and her opponents. What was too far to stab was artfully taken down with the daggers hidden in her bootstraps. She danced and dealt death to any who dared oppose her. She was not immune to their blades but she was far too angry to care when the met her flesh. She'd best them all. Because she didn't strive to be great, she just goddamn was.
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Post by starvingartist on Dec 5, 2006 2:14:24 GMT -5
((OMG! XD *joy* I love that you used that word. *borrows*))
"No, I am NOT a pirate," she said, sounding tetchy. "But if you try and tell me what to do one more time, I swear I'll become one by gutting you, oath or no oath."
She knew how it looked, for certain. A surgeon, travelling on a pirate ship and aiding their crew, yet claiming not to be a one of them. Well, if he wanted to percieve things as they were put in front of him that was his choice. Her only job was to get where she was going, by any means necessary. She ground her teeth as she adjusted her grip on the knife the was she'd been shown.
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Post by Clover on Dec 5, 2006 3:04:09 GMT -5
"Spare me the theatrics and step aside." The tone was curt, command phrased as such, and his eyes narrowed wickedly. This was ludacris. A woman who had been plucked from a pirate ship, claiming she was not a pirate, and yet calling their captain by name, and by familiar terms.
He snorted softly, one eyebrow raising as her hand shifted on the hilt of the dagger. "Don't be a fool, woman. Put that dagger down before you injure someone, most likely yourself." Though the words cajoled, his tone was as cold as ice, and it was obvious his short temper was already fraying.
"The Evangelion has a policy of no mercy to pirates, of which you are. And to think, I assumed better of you. Such a shame--for if you are not a pirate, you're certanly a whore."
As the venomous words slipped from his lips, he spared a glance for the woman on deck, fighting like some sort of hellcat, and then shrugged his shoulders. He'd not even shifted his weight forward when he lunged. He trailed the fine point of his dagger across her skin, not enough to score the flesh but enough to frighten, a small and cruel smile on his face. "You will stand down, or I will cut you down, Pirate."
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Post by starvingartist on Dec 5, 2006 3:12:23 GMT -5
((He's so MEAN. T.T))
She gave a little yelp, stumbling back. The knife had not split her skin, exposing the blood beneath, but it raised a little welt, a line of red that stung ever so slightly. Her eyes narrowed.
"I am a whore, am I?" she said acerbically. "I am a pirate wench, no better than the slatterns who serve those men when they come to port?"
Rage puled within her, and she threw herself at him, quickly, knife aimed at the soft spot under his chin. Being short, it was her best shot.
"I have been thrown down the stairs, kidnapped, forced to work in the ward of the so-called law, and am now being forcibly stopped from returning to my home, and you have the gall to call me a whore?!"
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