A storm paused brewing on the horizon, a large dark wooden ship rested in port. Staring down the growing colossus, each a force of nature daring the other to make its first move. A man stood at the bow of the ship, a spy glass to his eye, scanning that darkening horizon. A sly lop-side smirk moving across his face. He was tall with dark hair hiding under a tri-cornered hat, his red shirt hung partially unbuttoned between a long black leather jacket, with pants tucked into leather boots. Belts crisscrossed at his waist, a revolver rested on his hip opposite a sheathed sword whose metal handle and curved guard refracted the fading afternoon light. Collapsing the spy glass and slipping it into his pocket the man turned to face the small group walking up the gangplank.
There were four man, obviously worse for wear. The man slinking at the back was sporting a fresh red nail mark across his cheek. The men looked the part of local hired thugs, less than twenty four hours sober excited for their next pay check but questioning this particular assignment. There eyes shadowed with visions of the next nights nightmares. The grin on the man's grew as his eyes caught sight of his prize. Gagged into silence, and more dragged than escorted was a small women caught between the group of men. Her hair was long half dreaded, with beads and feathers woven in purple locks. She wore a long black shirt, with a tattered black corset over a dark long sleeved shirt. Rings glinted at her fingers, strips of fabric hung off her clothes, the woman looked wild and untamed. Yet here she was captured, with a smug pirate looking down at her. The man in the pointed hat looked her over. Sensing the unease of the thugs and his crew, he threw a pouch of coins to the men and waved his hand for them to leave. His eyes never leaving the women now in his possession. Her eyes were a few shades lighter than her hair, lit with an inner fire. The men tossed her to the ground, leaving quickly ready to be free of their burden.
The crew shifted surrounding the captive. The man stepped down from the bow of the ship taking a knee in front of the bound women. Pulling the hat from his head revealing a stripe of white, he removed the gag from her mouth.
"Welcome aboard the Scarlett Cross-" The women spit in his face cutting his charming introduction short. Snapping his fingers the man stood wiping his face and returned his hat to its place. His face hardened, his attempts at pleasantry quickly abandoned. Two of the larger crewmen hoisted the women up by her arms, and held her tight. He walked up taking her chin in his hand
"Listen closely little witch, I am the Captain of this ship and you will respect me. I need you for a- venture I am planning and I would hate to have to hurt you" The smirk returned the Captain's face, as he removed his hand. "Take her below men, I am sure our little house guest will learn to play nice after a few months at sea. Cast off!"
The men began to drag the witch away, but she spoke just before she left earshot of the Captain.
"If you know what, and who I am what makes you think you will ever see the shore again." The witch smirked laughing to herself as she descended the steps into the hull of the ship. Her mind filled with righteous fury.
The Captain paced back and forth in his quarters. His hand running through his tanged hair, his hat long forgotten atop his desk. This was not going the way he had planned. The moon peaked above the horizon glinting through the multiple pains of the window at the bow of the ship where the Captain's quarters were tucked away. He had stopped watching the sky out of the corner of his eye, half expecting the clouds to descend and swallow his ship whole, or giant \ squid to pluck away his crew one by one. The Scarlett Cross had taken too long to steal- to commandeer to go out like that. Threats were not something he took lightly, nor did he receive them without some backlash. He just needed to convince the witch to see things a little differently. The question was how. Grabbing his hat he marched out of his office, he always worked better without a plan.
The witch was sitting on the floor of the cell with her legs crossed and her palms open on her knees. Her eyes were closed and her lips mouthed quiet words. He reached out and rattled the door of her sell. Letting out a breath the witch slowly opened her eyes. Pursing her lips she looked up at the Captain.
"To what do I owe the pleasure Captain Todd." The witch was clearly putting her captivity to good use. He smirked.
"Now that just won't due. You know my name little bird, but I don't believe I know yours." Captain Todd's classic smirk returned to his face, a playful glint appearing in his deep green eyes. The witch rolled her eyes.
"I am known by many names, I am sure you must know at least one of them. You may take your pick." The Captain's smirk did not falter.
"Miss Raven will do then?" He caught the quick change in her face before it returned to its usual deadpanned expression. "I do my research Miss Raven. You were not an easy women to find."
"And why, might I ask, did you feel so inclined to put forth this much trouble. Captain." Raven filled the last word with as much spite as she could muster.
"Now that, Miss Raven, is the question of the evening." Captain Todd's smirk only grew, as he kneed to be on level with the women behind the bars. "But I believe there are a few other things we should discuss first-"
A loud clamor sounded from above, one of the deck hands came running down the stairs to the brig.
"Captain! We have a problem"