Prologue:
Tiara screamed in fury as she watched her beloved ship, the Tigress, sail away under someone else's command. The stars, which had always looked comforting to her before, now looked down upon her coldly. She fell back into the sand, watching her freedom sail away from her. It was then that she did something she never had done before. She wept.
5 years later.....
As always, there was a rough crowd at the Midnight Breeze: rowdy regulars, local drunks, persistent whores, and as always, a smattering of pirates on shore for a break and looking for a good time. But as is the way of Tortuga, where the rum flows free and the passion flows hot. In the tavern, there were already several fights breaking out, and it wasn't even midnight. The barmaids scurried around, casually stepping over bodies that had fallen out of their chair due to passing out from too much rum.
Shouts, curses, and breaking glass were hardly unusual occurrences in the Midnight Breeze, but when the moonlight showed midnight, the entire tavern quieted down into hushed whispers. Even the fights broke up, the participants returning to their tables. The reason for this could be summed up in one word - Ciara. She glided onto the stage with an ethereal presence, as if her feet weren't even touching the floor. Nobody knew her except by that one name. Nobody knew anything about her, really. But it didn't matter. It just added to the mystery of the creature on the stage before them. With one look across the room, she had all the men in a trance, and even some of the women. It was one of her gifts.
She was strikingly beautiful, with flawless porcelain skin, flowing auburn hair, with a perfectly fit and shaped body. But none of those things were why she could quiet a crowd as rowdy as this one with one glance. It was her eyes. A luscious shade of green, they could pierce through the most shrouded of souls, leaving the person on the other end of the gaze feeling naked and unprotected in their own mind. Whispers around the tavern rumored that she could even read minds, if she took a feeling to. Ciara smiled as she saw the affect she had over the rogues. Men shivered in their seats at her smile. So dangerously wicked it was, it made most people uneasy.
She glanced around, eyeing a few hungry-eyes pirates as she did. Finally, her eyes came to rest on the person she was looking for. The person, in fact, that she had been waiting for nearly seven months. A pirate. Making berth at Tortuga, likely for only a short period of time. The only person here who might rival her fame. He sat with his legs propped up on the table, his hat lazily covering his eyes. He was the only man in the room not watching her intently, and ironically, the only one she cared about being there at all. It was then that she started to sing.
It was rumored that she could raise the dead to life with only her voice, a rumor which was believed, due to the fact that whoever heard her sing was chilled to the bone. The rumors weren't true, of course, but she wasn't about to correct them, it benefited her more that they believed stories such as that. Her singing made grown pirates, dedicated to a life of killing and pillaging without emotion, weep like children. They all were there to hear her sing. And sing she did. Her song floated like a wisp of smoke into the ears of the man sitting in the corner, the man she had waited for. Capitan Jack Sparrow.
She saw him stiffen. Slowly, he removed the hat from his head and his feet from the table, and his face contorted into an expression of confusion and awe. It was then that she focused her piercing green eyes onto his deep brown ones. He held her gaze for far longer than most, holding it until she smiled her wicked smile. That was when he looked away. When Sparrow looked back, she had already moved on to entertaining the rest of the crowd with her surreal singing.
After her performance, "Ciara" walked back to her private room above the tavern, dropping the "mysterious beauty" attitude that worked the crowd over so well. It wasn't really her, but it helped pull in the money. It comforted her to know that nobody knew the real her. Nobody knew her past or even who she was. Few people on the sea knew that her name was really Tiaret Corso, the former captain of the Tigress. Tiaret let few things about herself be known nowadays. Never really the same after she lost her ship.
She changed into her more comfortable clothing; charcoal breeches, off- white billowing shirt, light gray vest, and midnight black boots. Each and every article of clothing threadbare from extensive use. She also owned a faded black coat, but in the sweltering heat of the Caribbean, it was hardly needed. She sighed and flopped back onto her bed, allowing herself to relax and gather her wits before she returned back downstairs.
Closing her eyes, she set a firm resolve in her mind as she stood back up. Grabbing her sword and pistol from her dresser, she shoved the pistol into her sash around her waist and the sword at her side. Carefully concealing a dagger in her boot, Tiaret finally felt comfortable. Eyeing herself in her mirror, she pulled her hair back into a bandana and gave herself a roguish wink. What with the common clothes paired with the bandana and weaponry, nobody would recognize her. At least not unless she stared them in the eye. Keeping this in mind, she grabbed an old leather hat that covered her eyes if she kept her head down enough. Tiaret pulled herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
Tiara screamed in fury as she watched her beloved ship, the Tigress, sail away under someone else's command. The stars, which had always looked comforting to her before, now looked down upon her coldly. She fell back into the sand, watching her freedom sail away from her. It was then that she did something she never had done before. She wept.
5 years later.....
As always, there was a rough crowd at the Midnight Breeze: rowdy regulars, local drunks, persistent whores, and as always, a smattering of pirates on shore for a break and looking for a good time. But as is the way of Tortuga, where the rum flows free and the passion flows hot. In the tavern, there were already several fights breaking out, and it wasn't even midnight. The barmaids scurried around, casually stepping over bodies that had fallen out of their chair due to passing out from too much rum.
Shouts, curses, and breaking glass were hardly unusual occurrences in the Midnight Breeze, but when the moonlight showed midnight, the entire tavern quieted down into hushed whispers. Even the fights broke up, the participants returning to their tables. The reason for this could be summed up in one word - Ciara. She glided onto the stage with an ethereal presence, as if her feet weren't even touching the floor. Nobody knew her except by that one name. Nobody knew anything about her, really. But it didn't matter. It just added to the mystery of the creature on the stage before them. With one look across the room, she had all the men in a trance, and even some of the women. It was one of her gifts.
She was strikingly beautiful, with flawless porcelain skin, flowing auburn hair, with a perfectly fit and shaped body. But none of those things were why she could quiet a crowd as rowdy as this one with one glance. It was her eyes. A luscious shade of green, they could pierce through the most shrouded of souls, leaving the person on the other end of the gaze feeling naked and unprotected in their own mind. Whispers around the tavern rumored that she could even read minds, if she took a feeling to. Ciara smiled as she saw the affect she had over the rogues. Men shivered in their seats at her smile. So dangerously wicked it was, it made most people uneasy.
She glanced around, eyeing a few hungry-eyes pirates as she did. Finally, her eyes came to rest on the person she was looking for. The person, in fact, that she had been waiting for nearly seven months. A pirate. Making berth at Tortuga, likely for only a short period of time. The only person here who might rival her fame. He sat with his legs propped up on the table, his hat lazily covering his eyes. He was the only man in the room not watching her intently, and ironically, the only one she cared about being there at all. It was then that she started to sing.
It was rumored that she could raise the dead to life with only her voice, a rumor which was believed, due to the fact that whoever heard her sing was chilled to the bone. The rumors weren't true, of course, but she wasn't about to correct them, it benefited her more that they believed stories such as that. Her singing made grown pirates, dedicated to a life of killing and pillaging without emotion, weep like children. They all were there to hear her sing. And sing she did. Her song floated like a wisp of smoke into the ears of the man sitting in the corner, the man she had waited for. Capitan Jack Sparrow.
She saw him stiffen. Slowly, he removed the hat from his head and his feet from the table, and his face contorted into an expression of confusion and awe. It was then that she focused her piercing green eyes onto his deep brown ones. He held her gaze for far longer than most, holding it until she smiled her wicked smile. That was when he looked away. When Sparrow looked back, she had already moved on to entertaining the rest of the crowd with her surreal singing.
After her performance, "Ciara" walked back to her private room above the tavern, dropping the "mysterious beauty" attitude that worked the crowd over so well. It wasn't really her, but it helped pull in the money. It comforted her to know that nobody knew the real her. Nobody knew her past or even who she was. Few people on the sea knew that her name was really Tiaret Corso, the former captain of the Tigress. Tiaret let few things about herself be known nowadays. Never really the same after she lost her ship.
She changed into her more comfortable clothing; charcoal breeches, off- white billowing shirt, light gray vest, and midnight black boots. Each and every article of clothing threadbare from extensive use. She also owned a faded black coat, but in the sweltering heat of the Caribbean, it was hardly needed. She sighed and flopped back onto her bed, allowing herself to relax and gather her wits before she returned back downstairs.
Closing her eyes, she set a firm resolve in her mind as she stood back up. Grabbing her sword and pistol from her dresser, she shoved the pistol into her sash around her waist and the sword at her side. Carefully concealing a dagger in her boot, Tiaret finally felt comfortable. Eyeing herself in her mirror, she pulled her hair back into a bandana and gave herself a roguish wink. What with the common clothes paired with the bandana and weaponry, nobody would recognize her. At least not unless she stared them in the eye. Keeping this in mind, she grabbed an old leather hat that covered her eyes if she kept her head down enough. Tiaret pulled herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. It was now or never.