Breath was running short, but she couldn't stop. The docks where were she was headed, a haven for thieves and beggars; and at four in the morning, the place with the hustle and bustle she needed to become unknown.
Her feet were torn; her heeled boots abandoned a long way back. White stockings reduced to nothing more than frayed thread around her ankles. Fabric from her dress missing it's netting as it had got caught under the spindle of a passing pony trap. Not the most practical outfit to make an escape in, but she had survived so far.
Eyes flickered to the horizon as she cleared an alleyway. A hazy dawn whispered a thin fog across the already crowded docks. She hesitated.
Where to go?
She spotted piled cargo boxes just to the right of where she was standing; a perfect hiding place. She took care in not bringing attention to herself as she sauntered toward the crates, ducking quickly behind the largest one as soon as she was close enough. She turned and gazed toward the alley she had just run from. A figure stood shrouded by shadow. The glint of metal in his hand confirmed his motive; to kill Roseanna Blackhazel.
The gasp and shuffle further behind the safety of the crates signified the girl's acknowledgment of the assassin sent after her.
She was the daughter of the infamous Lord Blackhazel, well renowned for his condemnation of any pirate that dared to sail around the nation of England. He had branded the most frightening pirates with the scar of a scolding letter 'P' upon their right wrist, and instigated a horrific amount of mass hanging to any creature suspected of the wretched pirate nature. It was no surprise that one day an attack of vengeance against him would fall upon the murder of his only successor.
She held her breath as her senses became swamped with the heavy scent of alcohol; the stench grew ever closer along with breathing as staggered as her own. She heard a muffled exclamation as a plump red faced figure tumbled over the crate and landed beside her.
"Mr. Gibbs?" exclaimed an excited tone.
The name was repeated and a lean figure wandered round, placing a face to the high pitched tone.
"Mr. Gibbs!" His eyes, well rather his one eye, the other seemed to remain where it was, noticed the girl huddled in her skirts with her back against the far crate. "And a lady friend."
"Beggin' yer pardon ma'am, I were just testin' the rum before we err, made sail, as it were." The intoxicated male attempted to right himself without spilling the liquid in his glass bottle.
After a rather complicated set of maneuvers he finally righted himself, and stumbled to his feet, without much help from the other fellow who was occupied with trying to right his other eye into looking in the direction it was supposed to.
"Mr. Gibbs be the name" A grubby hand was offered to the female who shook it firmly and stood in polite greeting.
"Roseanne" She replied.
"A pretty name well suited for such a pretty lass like yerself." He winked clumsily. "And now ter find that ship o' ours"
He turned and frowned at the crates in front of him as they masked his vision of the dock surrounding him.
"The ships over there sir." The tall figure directed.
"Aye Ragetti, so it is" Mr. Gibbs acknowledged, attempting to move forward.
His oversized step caused him to lose footing and he fell backwards, much to the surprise of Roseanne who ended up with him landing in her arms. Unfortunately, it took a while for Gibbs to realize his fall had been broken and he stood with his arms flailing widely in an attempt to steady himself, only resulting in the glass bottle colliding with the unsuspecting Roseanne's temple.