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by casimir » Thu Apr 23, 2015 12:50 pm
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the Sienna and it's shipmates are headed
for a long forgotten isle - but as it's journey grows
longer and seas become rough, it's quite clear
that something is out of place.
in a horrifying event and the loss of something dear,
Ginette and her adoptive mother's dog, Pudge, are
lost at sea: and on the shores of this
new land, Ginette discovers more than she
was hoping for.
Last edited by
casimir on Fri Apr 24, 2015 4:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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by casimir » Fri Apr 24, 2015 1:16 pm
Once lost, it may be entirely impossible to replenish what had once been. Whether a broken mirror, or swept to the tide of love – the gentlest of waves could disguise a raging typhoon. One slip of fingers to keys, a single fray of a thread, holds the infinite possibility to change even the sturdiest of certainties. It is not the faces or circumstances that hold the ability to conquer or crumble: but the supposed calm after the storm.
Cries muffled by a pillow splintered the shack. The walls were laced thick with the wet spilling from the clouds overhead. Cliché, Caroline thought, that a storm would rumble over the haphazard village on a night such as this. But the weather was soon forgotten, the task at hand becoming pressing and worse with every twinge of muscle. She felt that she’d been floating with the thunder itself, until a hushed whisper splintered through her own huffs and squeaks.
“Caroline.” Arthur Pollock – a man she’d known to hold no fear – quivered at her bedside. Dread snaked cold metal chains about her throat, anchor crashing to anchor to the seafloor – which happened to be a very uncomfortable mattress.
“Is he breathing?” Caroline found her voice in a disheveled state. “Shake him. Something.”
“It is not a he,” Arthur mumbled. “It is a she.”
A puckered smile fought to place over her lips, but with the way he peered at the wriggling being – a person, she had to remind herself – forced her to keep it in shackles. When he drew his almond shaped eyes to meet hers, she wished the swirl of nervousness did not have such a cold grip. Her swallow bobbed her throat, mouth opening to grope for further questioning.
“He will never let it live. It has red hair.”
From the shadows a new figure melded. Hair black as night and stare as light as the sea, the woman brought a certain chill that Caroline despised. Even the clothes she wore seemed to have melded from a different world. Next to the golden buttons and rumpled neck, Caroline’s dress could be no more than a poorly sewn bunch of rags. She hadn’t wanted her there, not for the arrival of her child.
Or, for anything else for that matter. However, now, as Arthur ran his tongue over his lips and drew a severed breath, Caroline began to understand why he had feverishly hunted Antessa the moment she felt the pain in her belly.
“Arthur,” Caroline nearly snarled. “No. It could be a- maybe he has redheaded ancestors.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Antessa hissed in return. Even her voice held snow. “You would selfishly risk the life of your daughter on a chance? You will have to kill it, unless you’d rather he run it through.”
From the chair perched beside Caroline’s bed, Arthur lurched, clinging the little girl to his chest. His face twisted with defense, veins rising to peek through his freckled skin. Antessa held no response, only inclined her head with a raise of her brow. Though shorter than he, Arthur found her presence becoming rather unpleasant. Nose wrinkled with thoughts that prickled his mind, Arthur jerked his head to notion for her to follow him into the adjacent room. Despite the calls of his child’s mother, he glided into the kitchen, hovering impatiently close to her.
“Take her,” he demanded.
Antessa pulled her head back with a choking laugh. Then, “Are you mad? A baby on a ship? I couldn’t feed the mongrel. What the hell am I going to tell Captain? Surprise! I was pregnant, but never got big, ho ho.”
“Tessa,” Arthur snapped. “He will kill them both. Please,” he began to beg, his eyes alive with the course of paranoia in his chest. “You must take her. You must.”
“Arthur, my friend,” Tessa retorted, voice slow and full of warning. “You are asking far too much of me. I could not possibly raise a child. I can hardly handle the dogs on board. Let alone a rat-… baby.”
Exasperation flung over the shadows that hung to his face. Ignoring her refusal, he shed his jacket, wrapping the baby within its folds. She cried, undoubtedly desiring the touch of her mother. Tessa’s jaw set tight at the plop of the baby into her hands – which, she would later remind him, she would have dropped had she not had excellent reflexes. His hands curving about her shoulders would have made any other woman flinch, but she kept rigid stance intact.
“You take her on that ship and you wait for us to retrieve her. Hide her with the dogs if you have to. We will be out of your way in three nights.”
“We leave for the Pacific in two days, Arthur. And there are only three dogs. I don’t think that is enough to hide a baby.” Tessa hissed. “I can’t stall. Russ won’t listen to me without proper reasoning.”
Arthur shut his eyes tight, then took a step away, holding his palms out as if to keep her and the baby at bay. “Then we will find you. Just go, before Caroline hears what I’ve said.”
He spun about, marching back to the woman he’d loved in the middle of the night against her husband’s wishes. Tessa took a step after him, anger boiling in her stomach to the point of discomfort, but she smashed her teeth together with a loud growl that left her nose. Adjusting the little scrap she held, Tessa glanced to peer at the baby’s stray red locks. Brown eyes – just like her father.
“Ah,” Tessa stammered before he could vanish.
“What?” Arthur hissed his whisper.
“A name?” Tessa shot, not holding her queasiness unknown.
Arthur blinked, then averted his gaze. “We liked the name Ginny.”
“That’s absolutely disgusting,” Tessa scoffed. “Ginette. Ginette is better.”
Arthur’s lips made a thin line, but Tessa assumed he approved as he stepped back into the shadows of Caroline’s room. Moments later she could hear them begin to argue, voices raising at a frightening pace. Head shaking with disbelief at both her oldest friend and her own compliance, she pulled her hood over her head and wrapped the baby in the creases of her coat. With a relentless stride, she left the creaking shelter and jogged toward her horse, patiently waiting by the nearby clover patches. As she climbed him, a screeching wail left a horrible mark in her skull.
Tessa hadn’t a doubt that Caroline had spilled from the shack as she rode toward the Sienna with her newborn daughter.
Last edited by
casimir on Tue Apr 28, 2015 12:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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by casimir » Tue Apr 28, 2015 2:16 pm
She should have been the captain of the Sienna.
I was merely a scrap when the shadowy figure hovered over the haphazard box that myself and four others had been plopped in. Too young at the time to understand the gravity of “free pups”, I’d thought nothing of it – that is until I was staring into chilly eyes that could wreak havoc over any of the seas. She pinched and pulled at my ears, her gentle-lacking fingers thrumming all over the spaces where bones would grow and fur would bush. For a very scary moment, she’d held me upside down by my tail.
“Its paws are humongous,” she’d commented to the taller figure beside her. He was unshaven, dark eyes very uninterested in my whimpering self. “It will be large – just like you want.”
“Take it then,” he had grunted.
And take me, she did.
The first few days aboard the ship were hell – I could hardly keep down the mush they slopped into a dish. The hiding spot – snuggled between two rum filled barrels – I’d claimed as mine had promptly been filled with rats: a battle I most certainly lost. It was then, that with tugs at her hanging fingers and relentless yapping, that I’d earned my spot nestled against her side. Or, at least until I had become far too large to fit against her back. So, though with resent, I anchored myself at the foot of her bed.
It was from this spot that I was abruptly pulled on a cloudy morning by the Captain’s howling. Antessa was fast asleep – caught in a land that both dog and human could walk alike. With a dreary yawn, I shifted, bracing my paws against the lump beneath the covers. A groan was pried from the sheets, but as I wriggled toward the plume of hair peeking from the covers, she stirred. With a happy wag of my tail, I ran my tongue over her cheek.
“Ahhh, gross,” she hissed. “Keep that to yourself, flea bag.”
“Tess!” My ears perked at the call from above deck.
The dark haired human gave a grunt, scratched the side of my neck, and slithered from her nest. I found it particularly amusing that the two-legged creatures always seemed to be unsteady on their paws, much like a newborn pup when they woke. At her heel as she so liked me to – I would never understand why they felt they needed their canine to stay at their side. Perhaps a comfort method.
The sun was well hidden by the rolling clouds over the port – but she still squinted her eyes, not yet ready for the breaching light. I trotted ahead of her, following the sound of the Captain’s bark. His smell was impatient – never a good sign. Tess took her time in coming to his side, eyes narrowed and arms folded over her front. Russ, in a heated debate with a member of the crew, abruptly turned to her, face pinched with the same expression that was rolling from him in waves.
“Ginnete has taken a horse to the village – we’re ready to shove off,” he hissed.
“And this surprises you why?” My companion replied.
“Not surprised,” Russ growled, pointing a finger at her snout. “Agitated. Go get her or I’ll leave the both of you well behind.”
My human gave a snort, brushing past him at a leisurely pace. “Oh stuff it, Captain Grump, I’ll have her back here by sunset. Worst case scenario she went to the shore to find rocks.”
The Captain muttered under his breath – words that Tess did not catch in her departure. Humans are such blind creatures, both to the world and themselves. Nevertheless, somehow they managed to make their way through the rise and fall of the sun. Paws thudding over the slippery deck, wet with the sway of the sea, I circled about the horse she was mounting – Agatha, a disgruntled chestnut that had a burning hatred for anything of canine species.
“Morning, mare,” I greeted her. She rolled her brown ears against her skull, clapping a hoof dangerously close to my hind paw. I ruffled my lips, but she paid no care. Horses: rude things.
Wind rolled over the village that bordered the docks. Numerous ships clustered around the wooden platforms. We’d visited the port many times, but had never stayed as long as we had this time around. Russ was in search of some object – sparkling things seemed to catch humans’ attention more than anything – whilst Tess had remained on the Sienna, catching well deserved rest.
It was the pup, Ginnete that stirred the present trouble.
Though she smelled not of Tess or Russ, they cared for her as their own. Rumor had it that humans were not opposed to adopting other’s offspring. She had been aboard when I’d arrived – but had nothing to do with the likes of a stumbling pup. The moment she’d whacked me with a mop, it was clear a friendship could not be.
Taking a relaxed gait at Agatha’s rear, I examined the length of the familiar town. It was a busy place, full of sailors and the seldom few that had made their home on the shore. Nods were exchanged and punches were thrown – the rivalry of whose ship was bigger was quite ludicrous.
A clanking noise from the right startled Agatha, causing her head to yank back, nearly clocking Tess between her eyes. She began to harp at the brown animal, but from a tavern not too far off a familiar red blur popped from the doors.
“Oh, for the love of-” Tess growled, then hopped from Agatha’s back.
I bowed my head and shook out my ears. It was going to be a long day.
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