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Return of the Pirates (M) Jabba x Kreed

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Offline Jabbathejack

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Archive - http://archive.visionary-tales.com/return-of-the-pirates-m-t22842.html

Ebeneezer Capley leaned over and spat a glob of phlegm over the side of the ship. He sat on the edge of the hatch, not far from the gang plank, his legs splayed out in front of him. Stretching, he groaned as he felt the tendons popping in his neck. Relaxing once more, he reached for his pipe to refill it.

Tamping down the fresh tobacco, Ebeneezer paused, frowning, his fingers hovering inches away from his flint. Was that someone approaching? Most likely one of the lads stumbling back to the ship, yet even so, Ebeneezer hauled himself to his feet and peered over the rail.

A young woman approached, illuminated by a lantern. Ebeneezer stared at her, his jaw dropping open in surprise.

"Hold up, lass." Ebeneezer found his tongue, as it became clear that the young woman was approaching their ship and no other.

She was probably a whore; certainly, no decent woman would be out at this hour alone. Not in this sort of town.

"This ain't that sort of ship."

Captain's orders. None of them were permitted to take any of the locals back to the ship. She might be pretty to look at, but he was hardly going to risk Beckett's wrath by letting himself get distracted.

He paused, letting his eyes travel up and down her bare legs. He winked and flashed a wonky grin, full of broken and stained teeth.

"I'll be off duty tomorrow, then we'll see, eh?"


Offline Kreed

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"That sort?" Her inquiry was more humourous than innocent, but fair parts of both. "And what is that sort of ship? What sort of ship be this?"

Ebeneezer's heed to turn away was lazily dispensed. She closed the gap and sidled her way along the starboard side, her hand bridging the worlds of dock, sea, and ship to run her fingers along the length of the vessel. She watched the sailor with a quiet intensity, curious, but guarded.

"I do not pay attention to the concept of tomorrow. You and I are here now  in the tonight. Will we both be here in the tomorrow? I do not know. I may be gone, either swept into the ocean or up by someone else for good or ill. My work is no less dangerous than yours, sailor." She stood now directly below him, and cast a smile that twitched as it softly grew to a subtle crescent, soft and sweet in the marbelled intensity of the moonlight that danced off the water.

"Will you want me tomorrow, or do you not want me now?"


Offline Jabbathejack

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"You know what I mean, lass." Ebenezer grimaced, shaking his head.

"We do a bit of this, bit of that."

What did she care what type of ship this actually was? All that mattered was that a whore wasn't allowed on board.

He watched her movements carefully as she touched the side of the ship. Was she just trying to gauge his level of pay so she knew just how much to fleece him for a fuck?

"I ain't a rich man, lass. You know that right?"

Ebenezer sighed.
"Look here, lass, whether you believe in tomorrow or not. I ain't about to risk the skin on my back for the sake of an overpriced shag."

"On this ship if you're on watch then you best have your eyes peeled or there's hell to pay. If you don't like that then I suggest you go find yourself some other poor bastard. Or just come back tomorrow and ask for old Ebenezer. "

He snorted, half expecting her to disappear.
"I promise you, lass, it'd be worth the wait. "



Offline Kreed

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"Ebenzer?" There was an air of mysticism to the woman as she closed the gap, floating somewhere in that space between dock and deck, staring up at him with that same flickering smile.

"Biblical--a Puritan name." She may have punctuated her observation with a sigh or a laugh - it wasn't evident one way or the other. Her fingers slid on the lip of the boat, ivory thin and nimble like keys of an organ.

"I like a man of faith... like Eve to the apple, forbidden fruit is oft the sweeter." This time, it was evident she had given a single laugh as rosy lips parted. She shook her head lightly, mouth pursing in disappointment when larimar blue eyes flicked back up to the face of the sailor.

"Never you mind the money, sailor...seamen work hard for their pence..." She reached out, but her hand didn't quite reach the man's toes. She tapped on the deck close to his foot, relaxing her chin on the edge as she stood on the tips of her toes.

"If I stay well away from your head... you can stay on watch... can't you?"


Offline Jabbathejack

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As the Lord was his witness, she was beautiful, looking up at him with a smile that said that she wanted him. Yet to his surprise, she seemed almost to suggest that what she'd do, she'd do for free. Of course, Ebenezer did not believe that for an instant, there was always a cost, even if it was her reaching for his coin purse when she thought he wasn't paying attention.

It had been a while. The voyages were often long and as he'd been unlucky enough to draw the short straw and land himself of watch when the others were out whoring their heart's delight. It seemed that the other wouldn't last until tomorrow.

"All right." He relented, leaning down to offer an arm to help her up on deck. "But you mind, keep quiet, lass, else there'll be trouble for the both of us."


Offline Kreed

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It would not be the last mistake Ebenezer ever made, but it would surely be one that when remembered would make his face hot with shame. Like a shark's fin beneath the surface of black water, her smile rippled in a strange light starting sweet and ending sinister.

Her body moved in a single fluid motion, swinging up to the deck as she gripped the armpit of his offered arm with one hand and the lapel of his shirt with the other to hoist herself up, over the side of the ship, and in the poor unsuspecting man's guard. She landed, knees firmly planted on either side of his hips, one elbow posted on the deck while the other wrapped around the back of his neck. With another practiced motion, she shoved her shoulder into his chest and slid it into his throat, simultaneously tightening the grip of her arm until she was able to grip the back of her head. Sixty seconds of dropping her weight into her hips and chest was all it took before the poor bastard went limp. Seemed he wasn't expecting that.

A hasty pat-down revealed, disappointingly, a little more than a quickly lowering mainsail. He didn't have the keys, then. It mattered little; English ships - and most ships in this part of the world, for that matter - had the same basic structure. She knew where the cargo she had in mind was likely to be. Whether or not she would also find the keys was another matter entirely. With bare feet, the woman padded near silently to the stairs to make her way down into the cabins, tensing with each swift step. The likelihood she'd be passing by more sentinels, given the cargo, was high.


Offline Jabbathejack

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"Hah! Beat that!" Samuel cackled as he set down his counter on the makeshift board. The sailor who sat across from him grumbled, admitting defeat.

"You're losing your touch, old man." Samuel helped himself to the small pile of coins. "Another round, eh?"

The older of the two men shook his head with a sigh, but Samuel persisted, his grin widening.
"Oh come on, Fred, it'll give you a chance to win some of your coin back."

To Samuel's delight, Fred relented and started setting out the board once more.

Behind the two men, a voice spoke in hushed tones, coming from the direction of the brig, but neither man reacted to it; it wasn't in a language that either of them could understand.

Samuel jerked his thumb in the direction of the brig.
"When we offloading these bastards?"

Fred grunted as he finished laying the pieces out.
"Tomorrow."

Samuel hauled himself to his feet, grunting as he stretched.
"Back in a minute, mate, I need a piss."


Offline Kreed

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Tomorrow? Then she was arriving precisely on time. Likewise, based on the conversation of her new friends, it sounded as though that she had the right place. As she came down the ladder, she heard the telltale thumps of a man's approaching footsteps in heavy boots...but the sound of jingling keys was distinctly absent.

She didn't allow herself too much time to question where the keys would be at the moment. It wouldn't matter if they were dangling an inch from her nose if it meant she would be captured. She scanned the immediate surroundings before settling on a table set and surrounded with empty crates and trays--no doubt this is where the prisoners had gotten their meals. The pile would serve the poor souls a second time.

The trespasser moved in a few fluid, silent motions on the balls of her bare feet, up, over, then under the table to hide among the crates. Her small stature, scrunched up smaller into a tiny crouch ready to move at any time, left her difficult to find by a discerning eye, let alone an unsuspecting passerby. It was here that she strained her ears, slowing her breathing to focus on what she could hear.

No keys.

Damn it all. There were footsteps, the light shuffling of a second guard, the sounds of discomfort and the heavy ambiance of a full cargo, but no keys. She would have to lie in wait before moving forward to face the second guard alone and here she was without naught but a knife strapped to her thigh.


Offline Jabbathejack

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Fred finished setting the last of the pieces on the board and he heaved himself to his feet, grimacing as his back popped.

Once more, he heard a quiet mutter of conversation coming from the brig, hushing the moment he turned to look.

"Shut up in there." He growled, taking a step towards the barred door.
"Please." The voice caught him by surprise; he had doubted that any of them could speak English.
"I said shut up."

He stopped short of barred door, but even if any of them managed to grab him, they'd still not be able to reach the key that was hanging on a hook on the far side of the room.



Offline Kreed

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An opening. He had his back to her. She glanced up as the first guard went up the ladder and waited until she heard the latch of the door before springing into action. On all fours, the woman skirted from around the barrel and crept hastily toward the cells. She lifted her finger to her lips, eyes scanning the faces of the prisoners in silent prayer that they wouldn't give away her position.

Keep going...keep pleading with him she motioned with her hand to continue before crawling under the chess table. She glanced about the cabin; where the hell were the keys? With a slow, nervous intake of breath, the intruder stretched toward the cells, trying to get the attention of one of the prisoners...but not the guard.

"Llave?" She mouthed silently. From her position under the table, she twisted her twist with a loosely close fist, gesturing to unlock the brig. "La clave? Where is it?"
« Last Edit: August 25, 2019, 03:45:17 PM by Kreed »


Offline Jabbathejack

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"I... I'm sorry, but we have no choice." The prisoner shifted his position nervously.

"Please, sir." He took a step forwards and closed his fingers around the bars. "Release us."

"It ain't gonna happen." Fred's frown deepened. "You'll be out tomorrow. Its out of our hands."
"But it would be the right thing to do, sir."

To back up his words, the prisoner moved his right hand in a placating gesture, indicating the key that was hanging on the wall across from them.

"Give it a rest, lad." Fred sighed, shaking his head as he turned back towards the board. Samuel would be back soon.


Offline Kreed

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She followed the guidance of the prisoner's hand and spotted the keys on the far right wall. Ah. There would be no reaching them there from where she now sat, and it was going to be impossible to navigate around the guard where he stood. She scooted to the opposite side of the table and reached up quickly, grabbing a handful of pawns from the board and snatching her hand back to her chest before the guard could turn around and took in a heavy, steady breath. Time was of the essence, and she had to hope she was able to get the bastard up again and away from the keys before his counterpart returned. She would have to hope her aim was true and the man's ears were sharp. She looked to the port side of the room before her eyes settled on the bell on the support beam. That would do...if she could hit it.

The white pawn shined promisingly in her open palm, and she squeezed it hard before touching her knuckles to the wooden floor for good luck. She had two more at her disposal, but that wouldn't keep the other guard from coming back down the stairs. With her lips pursed in concentration, the woman shot the chess piece from her hand and threw it toward the bell. It fell short by a small distance and landed on the floor, rolling with a quiet clatter. The second throw was more successful, tapping the bottom of the bell to make a soft but very detectable jingle before the piece fell with a firm pat.


Offline Jabbathejack

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Fred frowned, his gaze turning back towards the group of prisoners huddled inside the cramped confines of the brig. Their mood seemed to have shifted subtly in the last few minutes; it was as if bleakness of their situation had only suddenly been realised. They stared at him and he could see their apprehension. As he looked at them, he noticed the gaze of one of the others shift suddenly.

The sharp ding of the bell snagged at his attention and Fred turned towards it, frowning.

"That you, Sam?" Yet he could not see anyone there in the shadows. On high seas, the bell swung with enough momentum to ring itself merrily, but out here, moored in the harbour, it was as still as anything.

His frown deepening, Fred approached the bell.
"Sam, stop it, you devil. Come out, lest you want a kicking."

But the corridor was empty, with just the faint murmur of some of the crew that were below decks in the bunk room. Fred frowned, illuminated by the lantern, something caught his eye and he stooped to examine it. A white pawn. Picking it up, Fred turned back towards the brig, his eyes widening in alarm.


Offline Kreed

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As Fred moved toward the bell, the woman under the table crawled out - like a prowling cat - and lunged for the keys on the far wall. She gripped the keys in her fist to silence them before they could clang together and shot toward the brig.

Fred turned to face her just as she got the key in the lock. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and acknowledged his presence. With only half a beat, the woman turned the key and pulled the gate open, swinging it as wide as she could before springing forward, grabbing the table and throwing it at full force toward the guard.

Run you fools. He can't catch all of you.


Offline Jabbathejack

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A woman, springing from nowhere like one of those ghost tales that you heard in the taverns every so often, when the revelries had died down.

"Hey!"

There was just the briefest of pauses as the two locked gazes, then the moment of stillness was smashed and as Fred began to spring forwards, he was struck hard by the solid oak table.

They ran, moving in a mad rush, their shackles clinking as they went. They met the other guard, Samuel, on his way back, but what could one man do against so many?

***

Beckett frowned, setting down his quill. What the hell was going on out there? Climbing to his feet, he threw open the door to his cabin and stared out at the deck.

"What's going on?" He snapped angrily.
"Captain, the prisoners have escaped."
"Send out a search party, round up as many as you can."

Yet he had a feeling that it was too late for any sort of recovery. He marched down the stairs to the brig. It was a mess there, with the table upended and chess pieces strewn all over the floor. He found one of his men lying on the floor, blood flowing from a broken nose and an ugly looking lump forming on the back of his head. Hunter stood beside him, his face grim.

"Come on, man, tell the Captain what you told me."

"There was this woman, sir. I heard an odd noise, so I got up to investigate and when I turned around she was there, unlocking the door right in front of me."

He shook his head with a grimace.
"I'm sorry, Captain, I couldn't stop her. She threw the table in my face."

Beckett frowned.
"The table?" He glanced down at the battered, but still solid table. Oak. Heavy. "A woman threw the table at you?"
"Aye, sir, its God's honest truth, Captain."

"Captain!"

The shout came from on deck and Beckett turned and hurried up the stairs, his first mate following him.

"The watchman, sir, I found him unconscious."

The man in question, Ebenezer Capley, was shakily getting to his feet as Beckett approached.
"... it was a woman, I swear it. A beautiful woman, with long white hair. She tried to seduce me, but when I denied her, she attacked me. She was strong, unbelievably so."

Beckett's frown deepened; beautiful women with white hair were rare in these parts.
"Mr Capley, Would you be able to recognise this woman if you saw her again?"
"I reckon so, Captain."

"Mr Hunter." Beckett growled. "Assemble some men, we're going to find our intruder. Right now, before she has the chance to flee."