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[WolvesOfFire]

Yuss movie!

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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three days off the coast of spain. may 9, 1707

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Sleep had never seemed so impossible. Not only was hay far less comfortable than it seemed- which was not much so in the first place- but the boy had not been joking about the presence of rats.

Vin had spent much of the night tense and wide-eyed, staring into the darkness with an intense focus on keeping the seasickness at bay. As much as his paranoia wished to fight off sleep as well, there came a point where he could no longer resist the weight that tempted his tired eyes. Though it must have been at least a couple hours, it felt as though only seconds had passed before a voice pried him awake and harsh light made him squeeze his eyes shut even more.

“Wakey wakey, sunshine!” Benny called in a far too cheery tone, pressing one hand to his knee as he leaned forward and holding out a lantern with the other. When Vin stirred, he smiled and straightened up. “I’ll be trustin’ ye slept well,” he called over his shoulder as he turned and set the lantern on a crate. “I mean I know ya probably didn’t, but i’ll be trustin’ ya to say ye did ‘cause I don’t wanna be hearin’ no complainin’ on the tour, ya hear?”

With a groan, Vin slowly sat upright and ran his hands down his face. “Tour?” He asked curiously, running a hand through his hair and frowning at the amount of hay sticking from it.

“Aye,” Benny confirmed, rummaging through the barrels as if searching for something. “Figurin’ you’d best know yer way around,” he said. “No one showed me and I’m bettin’ I was lost down ‘ere for a solid month an’ a half.”

Vin was only half listening, muttering curses under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to detangle whatever straw and tangles had attacked him in the night. There were very few things he hated more than unruly hair and at that moment he felt as though the dark blonde strands dangling in front of his face would drive him over the edge faster than anything else on that god forsaken ship.

“Aha!’ Benny sounded, leaning into an open barrel and straightening back up with an armful of apples, sticking on into his mouth so he had a free hand to close the lid with before turning around. “Catch,” he mumbled loudly, tossing one in Vin’s direction.

Upon jerking his hand forward to impulsively catch the apple hurtling towards his face, Vin’s fingers tore at a particularly stubborn knot and he winced in pain, biting back a squeak only to be hit in the chest by an apple a split second later. Gritting his teeth, he let his fingers slither from his hair and into his lap where the apple had settled.

“Maybe that’s somethin’ we should work on,” Benny mumbled, eyeing the older man as he took another bite from one of the three apples he held.

Pressing his lips into a thin line with a heavy sigh, Vin lifted and examined the apple, which was not nearly as wretched as he’d expected. However, his face twisted in frustration when more hair swung into view. With a grunt, he brushed his hair back and looked to Benny, holding up the apple. “Grazie,” he thanked with a nod. “But I do not suppose you have… Some kind of string or something of the sort?”

“Sure, mate,” Benny said with a shrug before patting himself down and grumbling under his breath before snatching a ratty red cloth from his belt with a triumphant smile, tossing it to Vin. “Dunno how well it’ll hold up, but if ye want twine er somethin’, ya gotta pry it from Finnegan.”

Vin swiftly caught the fabric, thankfully without tearing out any more hair before tying it back. “Who is that?” He asked casually before leaping to his feet and inflicting a good sized dent in the apple.

“Someone I think ya might get t’ know fairly well,” Benny remarked with a smirk and far too much mischief in his voice for Vin’s liking before the boy strode past him and headed towards the ladder they had descended the night before.

As they walked through the underbelly of the massive ship, Vin followed Benny in silence before voicing a question. “So how did you end up here?” He asked curiously.

“Ack,” benny grunted without looking back. “Ain’t got no parents, cap’n had no cabin boy, so here I am!” He said cheerily with a casual sniff before glancing halfway over his shoulder. “I’d bet a pretty penny yer story could hold a crowd better n’ mine,” he laughed. “I mean, who in their right minds sneaks onto the bloody Obsidian?”

Cringing inwardly, Vin realized he’d more than likely be getting that question a lot- and more than likely, the rest of the crew thought him a fool for it as well. However, what bothered him is he had no way to help his case. How do you explain foolish impulse such as that which possessed him to sneak upon the most feared ship in the seven seas?

Suddenly, unease filled his chest as he realized the possible consequence of his actions. Tales of the ship’s bloodlust had reached even Italy; some even claimed it to be too treacherous to be real, yet here he stood in the belly of the beast with his life resting on nothing but a few pebbles.

Taking a deep breath, Vin swallowed the fear and prepared to respond, but before he could do so, voices echoed from ahead. “Bastards started without me!” Benny shouted.

“Started what?” Vin asked curiously.

A grin touched the boy’s freckled face. “Just a little gamble b’fore the mornin’ shift,” he answered. “Come on,” he added before breaking into a run.

“Wait-” Vin began, but it was no use. With a low groan he took off after Benny, keeping up until the two of them came to a stop as the hall opened into a wide space lit with lanterns, though the majority of the light was concentrated at a table where a few men sat, the surface scattered with cards.

“Ha!” A fairly stocky man shouted, practically knocking his chair over as he stood and threw his hand onto the table, the cards slapping upon the worn wood. Sitting heavily once again, he brought a hand to his short brown beard with a satisfied smirk, his unkempt curls flying in every direction. “What was the bet- twenty gold pieces?”

“Ah ah ah,” a deep voice countered mischievously. “Not so fast, Devol,” he rumbled, his voice coated in a thick Jamaican accent, placing his own cards on the table in a much calmer manner.

The other man frowned and leaned forward, pressing his hands to the tabletop to peer at the hand before glaring at the dark-skinned man. “Fair enough,” he grumbled reluctantly, thrusting a hand in his pocket before scattering a few coins across the table.

“Cough it up, Bishop,” the man with the winning hand said to the half blind one that sat in the middle, arms crossed bitterly.

“Damn this game,” the half blind man muttered in an intimidatingly gravely voice, swatting the dark hand away from his shoulder before adding to the winnings.

“One more round,” the first man insisted, gathering up the cards.

“You lads best get yer arses on deck before the captain drags ya herself,” a grunt sounded in the corner from an older man, gazing upon them with an expressionless gaze as he polished some tools with a rag, thin white beard quivering with a sigh.

“Hey hey hey,” Benny argued suddenly, shoving off one of the support beams. “Ye can’t quit without lettin’ me in on the action!” He added, a slight pout in his tone. The four men looked up, previously unaware of his presence, though their attention was immediately taken by Vin standing rigid behind him.

“Benny!” The brunette man shouted in greeting, standing from his chair and turning his head to eye Vin. “Ye brought the rat with ya!”

“Sorry to tell ya, kid,” Bishop spat before looking at Vin in disgust. “We don’t allow filthy pets down ‘ere.”



Obviously taken aback by the hostility, Vin opened his mouth to speak before he was stopped by Benny swinging his arm against his torso, narrowed gaze aimed at the offender. “‘e’s got a name,” Benny retorted, pointing a finger at the man. He then waited expectantly, but Vin said nothing. With a nudge, he got the taller man’s attention and gestured to the others with his eyes.

Vin looked down at Benny then at the others before clearing his throat in realization. “Ah- um,” he stuttered hesitantly. “Vincenzo Giova- vanni…” he trailed off when Benny smacked his arm.

“Not that ‘un,” the boy hissed. “Ye’ll ‘ave a dagger in yer throat b’fore gettin’ halfway through.”

Blanching slightly, the blonde bit back a stutter as he looked back up. “Vin,” he answered. “My name is Vin.”

His accent caught the attention of the older man in the corner, peering at him with blue eyes. “That’s not Spanish,” he mused aloud. “You from Italy, boy?”

With a flicker of hope, Vin opened his mouth to answer but was hastily cut off.

“Agh, what’s it matter,” Bishop grunted. “He ain’t worth no more time than any old dago.”

“Hey now,” another voice chimed in, the man that stood approaching Vin and throwing an arm around his shoulders before looking towards the others once more. “Vic here-”

“Vin,” the blonde corrected under his breath, instinctively shying away from the grungy man pressed to his side.

“Vin,” he continued, pointing a finger at each of them, “may be dull as a wee bairn, but ‘e’s got guts. No average chap would willin’ly damn themselves on this ‘ere god forsaken ship.” He then turned his head to face Vin and flashed a smile. “I rather admire ya.”

“Thank you?” Vin offered hesitantly.

“Don’t ya go on frightnin’ the poor man, Sam. That is the captain’s job,” the dark-skinned man voiced, though an amused smile played at his lips as he stood and approached the two, shoving Sam away and causing him to stumble. “Tajo Denton,” he introduced, holding out a hand which Vin tentatively shook. “Don’t ya go mindin’ ‘im,” he added playfully, leaning slightly closer, then rose his voice with a glance at Sam. “He is drunk, mad, and he bets away all of his money.”

“Oi,” Sam said, holding up a finger. “I prefer the term socially compromised.” He enunciated the last bit, running a finger through the air as if the words hovered before him.

Each of them then turned at the sound of a throat clearing in the doorway. Thorton stood there, a dark and slightly disappointed gaze sweeping over them before finding Vin. “You,” he said with a small gesture. “Come with me.” Half turning, he looked over at the others and drew a breath. “And the rest of you should have been on the deck an hour ago,” he added in a warning tone, continuing up the stairs as Vin slowly approached his side.

“I’ll find ya later,” Benny called assuringly before they disappeared from sight. His expression then fell with a sigh and he tossed one of the apples he held at Sam, who eagerly caught the fruit he’d been eyeing.

Once they reached the deck, Vin was surprised to find that the sun had barely risen, darkness still shrouding the ship and lanterns still swinging from their perches.

The rising sun streamed through the billowing sails, casting a red hue across the wide deck. As Vin followed the first mate, his gaze drifted in awe. He had hardly noticed the details the night before, having been distracted by a sword at his throat, but the Obsidian was truly breathtaking, from the intricate dark wood and cast iron rails to the sheer height of the mast. For a moment, he was completely oblivious of the untrusting stares that bore into him.

The stairs two curved staircases ahead did not lead straight to either end of the hull, but rather broke off onto a balcony halfway up. As the two figures climbed the stairs, it became apparent that their destination was the arched double doors that bore into the ship just under the wheel. Once they reached them, Thorton immediately reached for the cast iron knob, turning it and shoving the heavy door open.

They were both immediately greeted by stuffy musk, smoke swirling in the wake of the opened entryway. Thorton did not step inside but simply glanced to Vin expectantly, gesturing inside.

Vin’s eyes widened slightly, but he dared not argue. Swallowing hard, he stepped inside hesitantly, flinching and glancing over his shoulder as the door was shut behind him.

The pleasant atmosphere of the rustic deck was immediately forgotten. Compared to the rest of the ship, the captain’s cabin was like an entirely different environment.

Sconces and weapons littered the walls, displayed with an air of pride. Various chests and tables were pressed against the edges of the room, scattered with treasures and jewels and jars of unspeakable things. Carelessly placed candles burning with furious flames melted their wax off edges and onto unfortunately placed objects. An amber glow was cast from a stained glass window that stretched along the far wall, portraying the image of grotesquely twisted tentacles with human bones tangled in their grasp, three smaller arched windows lined up on either side of it. The window was positioned above a landing two steps higher than the rest of the room, outfitted with nothing but a cluttered desk and an upright piano that seemed oddly out of place.

It was hardly conceivable that such vastly different worlds could exist with nothing but a door between them.

It took longer than it should have to locate the captain through the swirling smoke emitting not only from burning incense, but from the cigar between her teeth.

Vin sucked in a breath and resisted the overwhelming urge to cough violently, resorting to shallow breathing. Scarlet paced obliviously before a table that stretched across the length of the room and was draped with countless maps and charts, tools and candle holders in strange places. Waving the smoke from in front of his face, he took a few steps forward, but stopped immediately when a stray cough escaped him.

Scarlet stopped and turned her head in his direction, stray curls escaping from her messily pinned up hair and bouncing about her face. Narrowing her ghastly gaze, she took an impossibly deep breath before plucking the cigar from her crimson lips, smoke escaping through her nose.

Vin could only wait dumbly and wonder how she could stand the lack of air.

Thrusting her hand into the pocket of her dark and ornate coat, the collar standing against the back of her neck. There was then a clattering sound as she tossed three small stones onto the table before stalking down the length of it. “Read them,” she instructed, circling the table until she reached the other side, then leaned her hands upon the parchment littering the surface and snagged a candle holder with a heavily jeweled hand.

Vin tentatively approached the table, stumbling when he caught his boot on the edge of one of many ornate rugs piled upon each other. Regaining his composure with an inward cringe before continuing forward.

Leaning on the surface across from Scarlet, he picked up the first stone and examined the markings for a mere moment before knowing just which one it was. He then placed his hand down with the stone under it, Scarlet tensing as he sifted through her maps. Upon finding the one that portrayed the area he was looking for, he cleared the others off of it and held up the stone between two fingers, looking up to meet the captain’s eye. “They are coordinates,” he explained before placing the stone in precisely the right spot on the map.

Interest flickering in her eyes, Scarlet twisted her torso further over the table to peer at where he’d placed it, the flame in her hand casting a halo in the smoke. “The Caribbean,” she murmured under her breath before looking up at him. “This is where one of the hallows is?” She asked sharply.

“Well, no,” he admitted breathily, swallowing the instinctive fear the switch in her gaze caused. “But they do lead to more stones,” he explained quickly, picking up another one and going through more maps with twice the haste. “Different stones- ones with different coordinates that lead to the hallows.”

“That’s infuriatingly redundant,” she hissed to herself.

“If it was easy, anyone could find them,” Vin mumbled pointedly, dragging out a second map and placing another stone upon it, though he pocketed the third.

Scarlet glared at him threateningly. “What do ye think yer gonna do with that?”

Vin shrugged and steadily met her eye. “Collateral,” he explained flatly. “Besides, you do not need the last one yet.” He flicked a finger between the others. “These two are closer.”

Scarlet hissed under her breath, though dropped the matter and moved the candle to hover over the second stone. She froze upon seeing the second location, not even flinching when hot wax dripped down her hand. Then, in one jerk of a movement, she shoved off the table and stalked around the edge of it with long strides, heading for the door.

Vin followed her too hurriedly, eager to be rid of the thick air. Scarlet shoved the door open and Vin slipped through, a plume of smoke escaping before he pressed his back to the wood, sealing the wretched smoke in the cabin.

“We’re goin’ to England, boys!” Scarlet howled, voice ringing out among the deck with a gravelly rumble. Without hesitating, she swiftly ascended the stairs, stranding Vin on the balcony. It didn’t take long for him to catch the waving arm of Benny from the deck and let out one last small cough before making his way back down with a glance over his shoulder at the helm.

Thorton turned his head to look at her as Scarlet hastily approached his side at the wheel. “What exactly are you planning to do?” He asked in a low tone.

A humorless smoke reached her lips. “I think you know.”

He clenched his jaw with dread. “Captain, you can’t-”

“To the northern coast!” She shouted over him, voice aimed at the crew on deck, knowing she did not need to specify which port.

“Captain-” Thorton began again, but was only cut off once more.

“Oi!” Scarlet shouted. “Beat the wind if ye have to, we sail to port with all haste!”

“Scarlet,” Thorton hissed impatiently, causing her to whip her head around and look at him as if he’s spoken the foulest of words, but he continued before she had the chance to respond. “Do you realize exactly what you’re doing?” He asked, worry behind his eyes despite his sharp tone.

“Of course I do,” Scarlet retorted before turning away from him and looking out over the deck. “Don’t act like it’s a shock-”

“It’s a deathwish,” he corrected, struggling to keep his voice low.

“It’s inevitable!” She shouted, a scowl cast across her features. “We have three stones. There’s no avoiding it any longer.”

“But at the very least-”

“Do not question me!” She growled, losing her patience. “Sail the damn ship before I remove ye from it meself!”

Taken aback, Thorton snapped his mouth shut and faced forward with a cold stare that softened just slightly when he spared her a glance. Upon doing so, he found the captain to have closed her eyes and hung her head with a sickening mixture of dread and defeat.

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[katomorakwarrior]

Scarlet smokes?
Ha!
Did she do that in the other version or is it a new habit of hers?
Anyway, I can tell you're putting a whole lot more thought into each character this time around.
I have to admit that I'm liking it a lot better.
And, uh, just curious, but when Vin looks at the mast and marvels "at the sheer height" of it, is he speaking of it as a smaller mast -- as in the mizzen mast -- or the main mast. Or rather, not so technically, is this a big, big ship or a big ship?
Just curious. I went through some sort of pirate/ship fetish several years back, and you're re-addicting me.
Shame on you.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

nope, she did not smoke in the first draft
That's new
And also very very fitting, I think xD
And yes I was talking about how tall the main mast was c:
The Obsidian is definitely no little schooner
Size wise, Id say its somewhere between the Black Pearl and Queen Anne's Revenge in the POTC movies
But the structure is more similar to the Revenge
Only the Obsidian is much more... Ornate
I'll probably get around to sketching it out at some point...

[aurora.]

{ quietly fangirls in le corner
loudly fangirls in le corner }

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

nononononono
-drags you from the corner-
we fangirl loudly here

[Summer Heart]

Mark♡

[WolvesOfFire]

I fangirl in the corner. Don't try to drag me out, either.

[Woogwoo Wren]

Yay, fangirl party in the corner. Together we will conquer! XD

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

... Oh lord now you're just all huddled in the corner
I'm imagining the squee-ing
ohmy

ALSO
I have decided to share my stamp if anyone wants it xD
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