▬ | Ｓ Ｗ Ｉ Ｎ Ｄ Ｌ Ｅ | ▬ ▬ ✖

[beadingbritt]

I love watching where these guys have come from the first ones you sent me however many years ago, wowza!

Did they get feistier, or is it me, 'cause I didn't think that was possible.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

... I will admit feistier is definitely a possibility

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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off the northern coast of England. may 11, 1707

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The few days it took to get the Obsidian where it needed to go dragged on like bricks tied to a cat. Apparently there was a great deal of things that needed to be done on a ship, and most of it fell into the hands of Benny, and now Vin.

It became increasingly apparent that the blonde man had not worked a day in his life and only half the day’s chores were able to be done between Benny’s detailed instructions. So, a few hours after the spring sun fell, they made their hasty getaway before someone made them work through the night.

“Seven hells!” Benny cursed as they marched through the belly of the ship, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like ye’ve never even been on a ship!”

Worn and ragged from the labored struggle of the day, Vin sucked in a breath to reply, but stopped himself. Best not bring up the fact that he’d not even seen a ship until he made it to Spain. Where he’d lived had been landlocked, the ocean waves occasionally reminding him of the rolling hills he called home. He shoved the thought away when homesickness threatened to seize him.

Benny continued to grumble all the way to the ladder, sliding down and hopping to the floor at about half way. “Best keep up t’morra, ‘cause I won’t be repeatin’ meself.” He stopped and pushed up his sleeve, revealing a bruise on his upper arm where Vin had accidentally whacked him with the end of a mop when the ship shifted unexpectedly.

Vin descended the ladder with far more cation, stepping delicately onto the floor before turning and wincing slightly. “I really am sorry about that,” he repeated for the seventh time.

“It’s-” Benny began the sentence before a screeching noise cut him off. To Vin it sounded something like a dying raven, but it brought a wide smile to Benny’s face and he rushed towards it, hauling a creature into his arms. “And where have you been, missy?” Orange fluff making the cat look nearly half his size, she happily pressed her head to his chest with a purr as benny dragged her from behind the barrels. “Ye have been slackin’ off worse than this ‘un!” He scolded playfully with a nod in Vin’s direction.

The older man, however, simply stood and stared. “You have a cat?”

“Yep!” Benny said happily, heaving the bottom half of her into his arms so he held her like a child. All signs of his irritation had liquified. “This is Heights.”

Vin paused, hardly able to keep back a smile of amusement. “Heights?” He inquired.

Benny looked up with a frown. “Well, yeah,” he confirmed. “The rest of the crew threatened to toss ‘er overboard unless I be givin’ her an intimidatin’ name. Heights was the scariest thing I could think of. But,” he continued, looking back down at the content feline, “I call ‘er Heiti, too.” He then looked back up with a grin. “Ya can pet ‘er if ye want, mate. She don’t bite nothin’ but the fleas on ‘er arse.”

Vin’s amusement quickly turned into a somewhat crooked grin as he fought the urge to wretch. “Eh- I do not think-”

“Aw, c’mon,” Beny pressed. “Gotta snag friend where you can get ‘em here.”

With a sigh, Vin gave in and took a few taut steps closer. Little did he notice the sway in the cat’s tail became more of a flick at the sound of his approaching steps. Opening bright yellow eyes, she turned to look at him, cautious but not yet hostile.

That changed very quickly, however, when he reached out a hesitant hand and the ginger cat hissed, lashing out at him before leaping from Benny’s arms.

“Merda,” Vin hissed in more surprise than pain, retracting his hand and examining the blood that began to bead on the back of his hand.

Benny watched her scamper away then looked at Vin accusingly. “What’d ya do to me cat?!”

“I did nothing to your cat!” Vin insisted, dropping his hand to his side with a shake as if the stinging was something easily brushed away.

“Well, she ain’t never done nothin’ like that b’fore,” Benny muttered, crossing his arms. Though as he watched discomfort distort Vin’s face, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I guess ye just have a way with the ladies,” he said sarcastically, continuing to chuckle as he turned and wandered over to his haystack before promptly falling backwards into it.

Vin looked up in surprise, face contorting with unwanted memories. The boy had no idea.



The Obsidian drew ever closer to the port with the rising sun, bringing with it a haze of clouds and a bitter disagreement.

“You can’t go in there alone,” Thorton said flatly, having just been informed of the captain’s foolish plan.

Scarlet held fast to the wheel with a white-knuckle grip, barely able to quit gritting her teeth enough to reply. This is exactly why she hadn’t told him sooner; with the port in her line of sight, he had less of a chance to say no. Still, he somehow managed to start an argument. “He’d recognized any one of ya,” she countered. “We’d be out of there faster than we could get in.”

“What does recognition have to do with this?” Thorton snapped. “You are not exactly inconspicuous yourself.”

“But he wouldn’t be kickin’ me out,” she said hastily.

“No.” He could agree with her there, though his voice dropped to a deeply concerned rasp. “He’d keep you around as long as he could.”

Scarlet heaved a sigh and quickly looked down in frustration. He wasn’t wrong, but that was exactly what she’d been depending on. “If he sees anyone else, he’s going to take it as a threat. If it’s just me, it becomes a game,” she said tautly. “I’ll get in, get the bloody ring, and be on my way.”

“I still don’t want you going alone,” the dark-haired man insisted in a low tone.

“Then what would ye have me do?” She snapped, looking up at him with a glare. “Have ye any other brilliant ideas?”

Thorton paused in thought before he dared speak. “Yes,” he said suddenly and simply. “Take the stowaway.”

Scarlet immediately scoffed. “What good would he do?” She asked bitterly.

“At the very least, he could keep watch and report back if something goes wrong,” Thorton explained, throwing a stern look in her direction. “Alistair does not know his face.”

The captain unintentionally stiffened upon hearing the name, but quickly shook it off. “What makes ye think he’d go and do that?” She asked, the snarl in her voice softened by breathlessness.

“He’s after the hallows as well,” Thorton reminded her. “I doubt you’d have to do more than ask.” He then paused in thought. “And if that doesn’t work, a gun to the head rarely fails.”

The comment forced a snicker to Scarlet’s lips despite the fear she continuously shoved back down. She didn’t speak another word, but she did not have to. The fact that she’d quit arguing was confirmation enough for her first mate.

“Maus,” Thorton called, signaling to a scrawny, rat-like man who turned his head as the first mate swiftly made his way down the stairs. “Scout the town,” he instructed in a low voice as he approached the man’s side. He never understood quite how Maus could make it through a whole city and be back in an hour with more information than needed, but he didn’t question it.

“Sure, mate,” the man said with a nod, s whistling through his buck teeth and raspy tenor. He leapt onto the rail without much effort, using the ladder on the side of the ship rather than waiting for the ramp to get to the dock and bolt into the streets.

Thorton returned the nod, not having to look behind him to know Scarlet’s gaze bore into his back. As calmly as ever, he approached the edge of the hatch that lead below deck. “Benny!” He shouted, not having to wait long before he heard scrambling footsteps scamper and slip up the stairs.

A boy hastily appeared, ruffling the dirt from his fine hair and looking up with his brown eyes, fingertips brushing the stairs in front of him as he recovered from a trip. “Aye?”

“Bring the stowaway up here,” Thorton instructed flatly. “I have a task for him.”

“A’ight,” Benny agreed before turning his head. “Vin!” He called with a carrying rumble in his tone.

The summons was followed by a distant crash and groan and soon after Vin was making his way sluggishly up the stairs, hand pressed to his head in pain. “What is it?” He asked the boy, then caught sight of Thorton gazing down upon the two of them and instantaneously straightened, arm dropping to his side.

“Mate’s got a job fer ya,” Benny said with a smirk, slapping his hand onto the man’s shoulder as he descended the stairs once more. “Have fun with that!”

Vin turned his head to watch him disappear behind him before making his way up the rest of the stairs and standing before the lanky, sharp-featured man. He fiddled with his sleeves, anticipation plaguing his dark irises. Thorton was one of few men on the ship taller than Vin himself, though what intimidated the blonde more than anything was his sense of control. This was no blindly barbaric swindler, but rather a man with experience behind him, and Vin did not want to get on his bad side. Composed fury is far more frightening to a wise man than blind rage.

Finally, he cleared his throat and addressed the first mate. “Yes?” He asked. “What do you-” he paused and looked out over the town they had docked in. “This is not the first destination I gave to her,” he mused quietly.

“No, it is not,” Thorton confirmed. He did not know the first destination, but he’d already figured this was not it. They were after the ring, not another stone. “It is a necessary detour,” he explained.

“Alright,” Vin said hesitantly, taking his gaze from the shore and fixating back upon the man before him. “Then what do you need me for?”

Thorton steadily met his gaze and heaved a sigh, before glancing around and turned to face the rail and folded his hands upon it. Vin took this as a cue to follow, leaning against the iron and wood beside the first made, glancing at him expectantly.

“One of the hallows is out there,” Thorton explained in a low voice; nearly a mumble. “In the hands of a mutinous crew member that sailed under our flag,” he said, hissing the words with only a fraction of the hatred that he clearly struggled against. “If he sees anyone but Sc- eh, the captain-” he paused and smoothed his hair, glancing around nervously and specifically avoiding looking towards the helm. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and spoke the rest of his words flatly. “If he sees any one of the rest of us, he will recognize it as a threat and we will not have the opportunity to get close enough to him to retrieve the ring. However, he is dangerous and I do not doubt there is a great possibility that he will attempt to harm the captain on her own. He does not know your face. You would not stand out to him in a crowd. Just… Keep an eye on her,” he instructed firmly. “Report back immediately if something goes wrong.”

Vin listened intently to what he was told, eyes narrowed at Thorton, searching for whatever emotion he was hiding. “I will,” he finally agreed, catching the other man off guard. Perhaps it was surprising enough of an agreement, but Vin did not want to chance the consequences of refusing. He pushed off the rail, but paused when he caught sight of a man he recognized as a crew member scampering up the newly placed ramp that connected them to the dock. He watched as the man ran up to the two of them and Thorton faced him expectantly.

“There’s a banquet t’night,” the man reported. “He’s sure to be there as well.” The screech of his S’s made Vin flinch.

Thorton dismissed him with a thoughtful nod and a wave. “Thank you, Maus,” he said dully as he turned to face Vin, a humorless smirk crossing his thin lips. “Looks like you’ll be going to a banquet,” he informed before looking him up and down with a frown. “You will have to become more presentable than this, or you will stand out.”



Luckily, appearing “presentable” was no foreign concept for one Italian man, practically relieved to have a reason to fuss over his hair until it was tied back smooth and neat. He must have re-tied the ribbon he’d scavenged close to twenty times, and he’d had time to do so, as the banquet did not begin until an hour before dusk and the captain had not required his presence until an hour before that.

Vin had been following Benny around deck, smoothing his hair down every time it was ruffled by the sea breeze, until a shout from the helm caught his attention. He instinctively looked towards the gruff feminine call to find that pale spectral gaze upon him. Scarlet barely had to wave a hand, her expression void as she swung the door to her cabin open, allowing it to remain ajar as she disappeared inside.

Ignoring the snicker that escaped Benny, Vin frowned in an attempt to hide the lingering trepidation in the back of his mind. Nevertheless, he ascended the port side staircase and slipped through the doorway.

The smoke had thinned considerably since the last time he’d been there, thanks to Scarlet’s presence on the deck for the majority of the day. Though now, he began to wonder if he preferred the suffocating clouds, as the lack of them revealed even more horrors. Vin’s eyes scanned the intricacy of the weapons on the wall which he had not noticed before. Is that… Dry blood?

“Close that.” The demand from ahead made him jump and he rushed to swing the door shut. Scarlet stood with one boot on a stair leading to the landing, eyeing him over her shoulder. He hurried to follow, but she held up a hand that halted him in his tracks. “Ye stay there,” she instructed with a tone that seemed almost like disgust. Turning, she took the two stairs up and turned to the right, sweeping aside a curtain Vin had mistaken for wall in the previous haze and disappearing behind it. He waited patiently, rocking on his heels as he listened to what sounded like drawers slamming and profane grumbling.

Behind the curtain was nothing but a modest bed with an oil lamp beside it and a large wardrobe. Scarlet dug through the deepest crevices of the thing, tossing unwanted garments aside. With a huff that blew dust off one of many neglected surfaces, she paused to run her fingers through her hair. It would have been so much simpler if the damned rat had not been too broad chested to even dream of fitting into anything that belonged to her thin first mate. Instead, she had to dig through more old clothes than she knew could even fit in the piece of looming furniture looking for things she wasn’t even sure she still had.

With a heavy sigh, she dropped into a crouch and wriggled the bottom drawers free, impatiently sifting through them until she found what she was looking for. Her fingertips brushed the aged silk unexpectedly, causing her to hesitate. With a shake of her head, she pinched her brows together and grabbed fistfulls of the material, gathering the ornate vest, jacket, and trousers in her arms before tossing the heap through the curtain. “Put those on,” she instructed bitterly before standing again and placing her hands on her hips.

Vin took a step back when clothed unexpectedly flew through the air before him. Pursing his lips, he took a few steps forward and swiped them off the floor. The mint fabric was very obviously old and worn, yet beautiful nonetheless. “Where did you get these?” He mused aloud, regretting the question the second a cringe-worthy cackle escaped the captain.

“They were freed from a bloody bastard that has no further use of such things. Besides,” she added mischieviously, “we’ve gotten more use of ‘em anyway.”

He was sorry he asked.

Meanwhile, continuing to snicker knowing Vin squirmed at the thought of wearing a dead man’s clothes, Scarlet began to shed her own layers. They were ultimately replaced with a white slip, which she hiked up in order to firmly strap a dagger to her thigh. There was no way in hell she’d be going in unarmed, but unfortunately heavy artillery was far too conspicuous.

As she straightened up, the dread she’d been fighting began to surface. Then, holding her breath with determination [and against the inevitable must] she thrust into the throng of hanging clothes, hastily yanking a painfully thick and heavy garment from its clutches before diving in a second time. This round she went all the way to the back, anything but careful as she pulled the collapsed hoop skirt to the surface of the fabric sea.

Scarlet stumbled, nearly falling backwards when the hold on the wires were released and it expanded faster than she could register the way it filled the small room. Despite this, it was easy to slip the thing over her head when it was propped against the wall, though the struggle with the petticoat and golden fabric of the dress itself was a far different story.

By the end of the full blown war, Scarlet’s face nearly matched the hue of her hair and she viciously snatched the black velvet corset from the top of her bed only to immediately toss it down onto the map-littered table as she swept the curtain aside and shoved through the doorway.

Vin had been dressed for a long while by the time she emerged, having to desperately bite back laughter the few times she’d hit her head and cursed loudly. However, when she’d burst out, he’d been twisting his torso, admiring the angles of the quality clothing.

He’d jumped at the sound of the curtain flying aside, looking up with wide eyes as the captain hurriedly circled the room. The dress had revealed a curve to her body that had been hidden by her variety of foreign jackets and until then it had been difficult for him to imagine a woman underneath. “Successone,” he whispered involuntarily.

“What?” Scarlet snapped, whipping her head over her shoulder while simultaneously snatching a pin from the desk on the landing.

“Nothing,” he murmured quickly, glancing over to the chest of drawers beside him and pretending to admire a string of pearls dangling over the lip of a chalice.

Scarlet narrowed her eyes for a moment before brushing it off and twisting a chunk of her hair, slipping the pin through her dense curls to keep them in place. She continued this routine, circling the entire room and picking a pin from the table, off a shattered vanity, off the piano, and even out of a candle holder. Eventually, most of the beads and dreadlocks were hidden, red curls cascading down her back and over her shoulder. Once she’d made a complete round around the room, she snatched the black corset off the table and slipped it over her torso, coming to an abrupt half before a patiently silent and somewhat intrigued Vin.

“Lace this,” she demanded flatly, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

He was slightly taken aback by the instruction, but agreed nonetheless, hesitantly reaching for the laces before pulling them taut.

Scarlet let out a breathless yelp of surprise as she was fiercely yanked back. “Oi!” She growled over her shoulder. “I told ye to lace the damn corset, not break me ribs!”

“It is meant to be tight,” Vin argued, pulling the next row only slightly gentler.

“I don’t give a rat’s arse what it’s meant to be!” Scarlet barked, leaning slightly forward to brace herself against the unnecessary abuse. “I’m meant to be wearin’ stalkings as well, but who is goin’ to know the difference?” She hissed.

Tight-lipped, Vin stubbornly pulled one more row tight as he dared before finishing the rest with only moderate pressure.

No sooner had he fastened the ends of the string than Scarlet whipped around to face him with a dangerous glare that made him lean slightly back. “Let’s get one thing straight right now,” she said in a suddenly low, gravelly voice. “I don’t need yer help. I don’t want yer help. Stay out of me damned way and if ye somehow manage to mess this up, I’ll personally ensure it won’t be happenin’ again. Have I made meself clear?”

It took all of Vin’s will to hold her gaze with a straight one of his own, but he was able to do so and manage a nod as well. “Yes, Captain,” he sputtered for good measure, the swords on the walls too plentiful for comfort.

Eyes narrowed, Scarlet leaned back and brushed past him and he dared hesitate only a mere moment before scrambling after her.

━━━━━━

[casimir]

Vin!
Be nice to the cAT.

lol... luck with the ladies.

-glances at beth and scarlet-
...
-dies of hysterical laughter-

[abeille]

oh mY GOD
-squeeeeaaalsssssss-
i finally caught up!!
and
vIN!!
pardon your tongue mister!
CAPT THIS IS SOOOO GOOD THO.
IM IN LOVEEEEEEE

[Woogwoo Wren]

Do I want to know what he said?
Love the cat! She's awesome.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

@cas more like no luck :DD

@civ EEEEEEEY -violently resists urge to scream welcome aboard-
Thank yooou! :DD
it better be after taking over a year to figure out

@lfj Hims said a bad thing... -cackle-

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

PSST finally finished chapter three! :DD

[Asherwy]

...
(((( ;°Д°))))
mooooooRRREEEE

[katomorakwarrior]

Haaaa!Haa!
For the record, I'm snickering (or sniggering, one of the two).
I'd love to be a fly on the wall there.
And another thing, I'm starting to like Scarlet's personality; it's kind of a natural personality. I've met people like her, and, because of that, it's easier to understand. I'm not sure if that was your goal, but, with me and my oddball list of acquaintances, you do it well.
Anyway, with that said, continue on and report back with more as soon as possible.
(But, of course, don't rush yourself.)
(But still hurry.)