Thanks to my dearest beta, this chapter was able to get up pretty quickly. Without any further ado, aside from the regular disclaimer (I do not own One Piece, in case you've forgotten), let us begin!
Cassandra sat bolt upright, her eyes shooting open. Her heart was pounding, her chest was heaving, and her skin was slick with sweat. She glanced wildly around, forgetting when and where she was. She needed to get out of bed, out of her own personal hell. She stared at the knives in her hands before dropping them as if they had burned her. Thrashing about, she managed to extract herself from her clammy, wet sheets and lurched onto the floor.
Madly jerking herself to her feet, she stumbled into the bathroom and seized the sink in a grip strengthened by cold terror. Fumbling with the taps for a moment, she finally got the faucet to turn on. She exhaled a breath of unconcealed relief as she stuck her hands into the warm water. Cassandra let her head hang down as she feverishly scrubbed at her hands, gazing at them through half-lidded eyes, screams still echoing around in her head.
Her heart was once more seized with terror as she realized that she was washing her hands not with warm water, but with blood.
Resisting the urge to scream aloud, she hurtled backwards, unintentionally slamming the door closed with her back. Her hands were dark in the dawn light, liberally coated in the crimson liquid. Her breathing began to accelerate once more as she tried to form a coherent thought, but none would come. She slowly slid down the wooden door, dangerously close to hyperventilating. This can't be happening… this can't be happening… this isn't real…
Sure enough, when she had run through her mantra enough times, the blood began to grow clear and shiny, as if her alchemist had used his powers in an effort to calm her down. After watching the last of the dark spots change into a transparent sheen, she cautiously brought her hands to her lips, tasting to make sure she hadn't been imagining things. The sound of the steady stream flowing from the faucet edged her back towards reality, reminding her that the possibility of blood running from her sink was extremely close to zero. Sighing in relief, she rested her against the door and put her wet hand to her forehead, taking deep breaths in order to calm herself further.
She eventually recovered enough to stand back up again, absentmindedly turning off the faucet. She wet a handtowel with the water that slowly gurgled down the drain and brought it to her face, dabbing off the sticky sweat covering her skin. In between dabs, she realized that there were specks of blood intermingled with the soft fibers. For an instant, the dark flecks filled her vision, almost driving her back to insanity. But a light sniff revealed that they were in fact real, or at the very least hallucinations that invaded all of her senses.
Frowning, she tried to identify the source of this mysterious blood. Running her hands all over her face and neck, she felt a small cut almost hidden in her hairline, one that she probably would have ignored completely had she not been searching for it. She had probably acquired it during her frantic flailing earlier. She chose to ignore it anyway, because it truly didn't matter.
Satisfied, she opened the door as quietly as she could and exited the bathroom, pulling on her black glove. Feeling more comfortable wearing this article of clothing, the pirate captain departed the women's quarters, desiring the salty sea breeze more than anything. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and lifted her face, gulping fresh air as if she had been drowning.
Before she could calm down completely, the smell of blood once again filled her nose. Her entire body tensed, and she slowly turned to the poop deck. Adrenaline surged through her system, and she leapt clear over the railing, entirely prepared to fight. She paused for a moment, before standing up straight and heaving another deep breath. "What are you doing up here?"
"What's it fuckin' look like?" Damien growled. His legs were spread wide apart, and he was grimly grasping one of his feet. More importantly, blood was oozing from several of his wounds. "The fuck's with you?"
There was no way she was going to admit she had been having another one of her nightmares. "Exercising. What happened to your bandages?"
"Didn' need 'em."
She let her eyes rove over the countless injuries marring his body before returning to meet his gaze. "Are you always this reckless?"
He gave a short bark of amusement. "I ain' dead yet."
"Yet. You'll die if you keep pushing yourself like this."
"Aye, but tha'll be in a fuckin' good fight. 'S all tha' matters."
"What about us?"
His brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "What abou' you?"
"I am taking a risk having you aboard. I will not have that go to waste."
"Risk? Yahahar! Yer a cuntin' pirate, slattern. Risk is wha' we do."
"Not when it involves having a crewmember so devoted to fighting that he's a danger to his own crewmates."
"So yer scared of me."
She gave a small smirk. "Personally? No. I've faced worse than you. But you and I aren't the only ones on the crew. What I am scared of is you killing Alexander or Lyn. For the record, if you do that, I will kill you."
He threw back his head and howled with laughter. "You will, will ya? Think you got th' fuckin' stones t' face me, knobsucker?"
"You know I do."
A dark scowl spread across his face, and he climbed to his feet. She looked evenly up at him. "Pretty words, Cap'n. Tha's all they are."
She held his gaze until Alexander ran up to the deck, a roll of bandages in one hand and antiseptic in the other. "There you are, mate," he huffed. "I told you to wake me when you get up."
Damien merely shrugged. "Couldn' be arsed."
The alchemist hesitated as he saw the lingering anger on their faces. "Look, whatever Damien did, I apologize-"
"He's done fine so far. It's just curious that you two have remained beside one another in spite of everything that's happened to you."
"We're like brothers. Family doesn't split apart. Although seeing you and Lyn outside of the medbay, I must say I'm equally curious as to how you and Lyn became such close friends so quickly."
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "Friends? I wouldn't say-"
"Aww," a drowsy voice drifted up from the balcony. Lyn's disheveled hair came into view, and she yawned widely. "You're breaking my heart, Captain. We're not friends?"
Alexander coughed and averted his eyes. "This is exactly my point. Why aren't you wearing any clothes?"
After looking at the blanket that didn't protect her modesty whatsoever, Lyn planted her hand on her hip challengingly. "Sleeping with clothes doesn't feel right."
"I have no issue with whatever you chose to sleep in or not, but you couldn't put on at least something before coming out here?"
"Oh, don't be such a prude. Damien's not wearing a shirt; why should I?"
He gave another few coughs. "Yes, well, you're a… uh…" He wisely chose to change his course when he saw Cassandra's hard look. "There are… it's not just a shirt that you're… lacking."
Lyn giggled as she spun around. "Come on, Alexander, surely you want some of this?"
Alexander made sure his eyes were covered before turning to face in Cassandra's direction. "Please tell me you're seeing the point that I'm making. Damien and I grew up together. You two did not."
"Lyn, would you stop before his head explodes?" The first mate pouted as she wrapped the blanket around her body. "She does have a point about the shirt though. Unless you want to debate that as well?"
"No, Captain," he said instantly, hearing the iron in her voice.
"As for the differences between the two of us, we aren't as different as you might imagine. Sure, I'm a killer and she's a novice, but that doesn't mean there's no overlap whatsoever. We both, well, all four of us want the freedom to do what we want. Why should we all be identical to be friends?"
"Exactly!" Lyn exclaimed. "I've had all kinds of friends! What's wrong with me liking Captain?"
"Doesn't your religion dislike tainted minds, bodies, and souls or something like that?"
"Yeah, but the spirits work in mysterious ways. After all, Captain was locked up because of it. If she hadn't been, I wouldn't be a pirate, you would still be on the island, and so on and so forth. Besides, the spirits aren't exactly as rigid as you'd expect when it comes to purity."
"Oh, really? How so?"
"Have this discussion in the galley," Cassandra told them. The two pirates walked off without skipping a beat. After hearing the door close, Cassandra turned back to her navigator. "You're supposed to be steering."
"Quit bitchin', nutsack. I lashed th' wheel on course," he responded without budging from his stretch. "Just tell me if we're about t' crash into a cuntin' island 'r something."
"Look at me for a second." He glanced up in time to see her drag a knife across the back of her right hand. While he stared at the dripping blood in confusion, she scrutinized his eyes thoroughly. She couldn't see any change, which was both comforting and worrying. Instead of a situation where she knew she was dealing with, it seemed like she had another puzzle to solve. That was no problem. She enjoyed puzzles.
When she stood up straight once more and rubbed her glove across the wound, he returned to his stretch without a word. She watched him for a moment before returning to the women's quarters. She took a long shower so she could ruminate undisturbed. After dressing, she left the room and leaned on the railing. She idly flipped a knife as she stared off past the horizon.
Am I really ready to be a captain of these people? she mused. She had plenty of experience with dangerous, diverse, and quite unique people, but she had investigated them thoroughly before allowing them to become her friends. She knew she was a natural leader, but it was one thing to be the leader of people she knew everything about. It was quite another to gather random strangers and know best how to lead them. There was also the problem with trust, as she was still completely unsure about truly letting her crewmembers into her life. "The more people trust, the more they will be betrayed…"
After a moment, the galley door burst open, and Lyn flipped onto the railing beside her. "But the less people trust, the less they will be able to enjoy the world. You're a pirate, Captain. Enjoy the world."
Cassandra stared for a moment before realizing the most likely explanation. "Your mind, body, and soul are still… How did Alexander put it? Untainted."
"Well duh! I'm me!"
"Can you be you with clothes on?" Alexander asked, emerging from the galley with a piece of toast in his hand.
"Dammit, Alexander!" Lyn cried. "Way to ruin the moment!"
"Whatever will get you to put clothes on."
"You are so- C'mere!" Alexander saw what she was planning and bolted for the men's quarters. He stood no chance against Lyn, who easily caught him before he passed the mast.
"Captain!" Alexander yelled, attempting to push the mostly-naked woman off of him.
Cassandra raised her hands helplessly. "You're crewmates. You can resolve conflicts amongst yourselves."
"But Captain!"
His panicked cry followed her into the galley, where the musician had meticulously cleaned up after himself. She was by no means a decent chef, but she could prepare a passable meal. It took her no time at all to prepare a plateful of breakfast sandwiches. She was absently chewing on one as she began to set the plate down, realizing just in time that the table still hadn't been repaired since Damien had plowed through it two days previously. She sighed and nudged the door open with her foot. "Breakfast."
"Ooh, sandwiches!" Lyn bounded up to her, having finally put on some clothes. "What's in 'em?"
"Captain! This is just cruel!" Cassandra turned to see that Alexander had been bound to the mast with his own ties and was dressed in nothing but a pair of note-covered boxers. She nearly choked on her food, pounding her chest with her free hand to make sure she didn't die of asphyxiation by sandwich. That was not what would be on her gravestone.
Lyn glanced at the bound musician, a sandwich in each hand. "Ne'er pish off an ar'ish'."
"You can just transmute them," Cassandra observed.
"These are my best ties!" he shouted. "Let me go!"
They all looked up as Damien slumped against the poop deck railing, beside himself with laughter. Glad that his moon had lightened somewhat, Cassandra threw a sandwich up at him. "Everybody just calm down. We're all conscious for the first time. Let's try to get along."
Grudgingly, her crew complied.
\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\
"Captain!" Lyn shouted. "I'm bored!"
"So entertain yourself," Cassandra called back, not looking up from the book she had been reading. The fog had burned off around mid-morning, letting the sun shine brightly upon the seas. She was lounging on the forecastle deck on a patio chair she had dredged up from the storage rooms, basking in the warm sunlight. She had a book in one hand and an apple in the other. She did not want to be disturbed.
"But Captaaaaain…" Lyn whined.
"Go draw Damien again or something." She took a nice, crunchy bite, savoring the sweet taste.
"Aaaaaaaaleeeeeeex…" Lyn moaned. "Captain's being mean…"
"Alexander. Deal with it," Alexander said uncaringly, staring hard at the ball he had been trying to transmute into something or other for the past half hour.
"Daaaaaamieeeeeen… Everybody's being mean…"
A thunderous snore drifted from the helm, where the navigator had realized he was still wounded and dozed off.
"Don't bother him," Alexander told the first mate. "You don't want to wake him up, though I suppose he's still too tired to do much if he did."
"Well, I guess he deserves the rest," Lyn conceded. "I suppose I could draw…"
"That's the spirit," Cassandra murmured, turning the page.
Many gloriously silent minutes passed by. Lyn had thankfully found something quiet to do, Alexander's curses were soft enough to be ignored, and Damien's rhythmic snoring blended perfectly in with the pulsating sound of the ocean, creating a soothing atmosphere. All was right with the world. However, Cassandra knew that the peace was not to last.
She was right.
"What do you think of this, Captain?"
"It's great, Lyn," Cassandra replied, her eyes never leaving her book.
"You didn't even look," Lyn complained.
Cassandra looked up, knowing that she was never going to hush the artist otherwise. She searched the decks for the Lyn, but she was nowhere to be found. Her eyes trailed slowly upwards, scanning the riggings and the yards. She finally spotted Lyn, who was tenaciously gripping the flagpole jutting from the crow's nest. A suspicious feeling growing in her stomach, she followed Lyn's finger up to her topmost flag. What she saw made her raise her eyebrows in surprise.
In mere minutes, Lyn had completely changed the usual skull and crossbones. A white cowboy hat perched on top of the grinning skull, a pair of pistols crossed behind it. It all lay on top of a black hand, and Cassandra was amazed to see that it was a left hand. She hadn't expected Lyn to pay attention to the fact that she was left-handed, but she was evidently mistaken.
"So whaddaya think?" Lyn yelled, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
"You never cease to surprise me," she shouted back. "Can you change the main sail as well?"
"No problem!"
Nodding in satisfaction, Cassandra admired the Jolly Roger for a bit longer before returning to her book. She made it through two pages before she frowned and looked back up. "I thought you didn't have drawing materials."
"We were looking for you on Fashion, or whatever it was called. Damien was busting heads, but I found a general store! Seeing as how they should pay for almost killing us several times, I took what we needed and set off!"
"An optimal acquisition of resources."
Lyn was practically glowing with pride. "I took some paint, some dice, a collar, a can of swamp stuff-"
"Why did you take that instead of supplies that would be of actual use to us?"
"I thought they were cool…" Lyn trailed off, her pleased demeanor vanishing instantaneously.
Cassandra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose something is better than nothing."
"Oh, I also got the map we're using!"
"I'm glad to hear we aren't just sailing into the blue."
"Obviously!" Lyn responded, hanging upside down on the main top-gallant yard. "Give me a little credit-"
A loud blast interrupted her. Noting her page number, Cassandra shut her book and tucked it under her arm. "What is it?"
"A ship coming up fast behind us!" Lyn yelled after a short time. "Jolly Roger's two quills behind a skull with some weird glasses!"
"I have no idea who it is, but the fact that they're firing at us and they're faster than us isn't a good sign. Alexander, can you get on the cannons? They're in the hallway surrounding the medical ward. Lyn, keep an eye on them. When they're getting close, go down to help Alexander and say which side they're approaching. Damien, wake up."
Alexander had vanished belowdecks the moment she had finished with his instructions, Lyn climbed back into the crow's nest and stared at the oncoming ship, and Damien remained resolutely asleep. Cassandra ran her hand through her hair before vaulting the forecastle railing. She hurtled up the stairs, threw her book on her bed, and grabbed her knives and one pistol with the sole remaining magazine. She strode up to her navigator and stamped her foot down right beside his ear.
He sleepily opened his eyes to glare dully at her. "Whaddaya wan', slumbitch?"
"You claim to be a navigator, and while I haven't seen that, I do know you can fight. Get up and fight."
Damien sighed and pulled himself to his feet, yawning unashamedly. The forward cannon on the enemy ship had been reloaded, and another cannon shot rang out. His arm snapped up with lightning speed, easily catching the cannonball that would have broken the mast and Cassandra's skull otherwise. She didn't bat an eyelash despite the fingers a centimeter from her face.
"'Ere," he said, handing her the cannonball.
She took it in one hand and promptly dropped it due to its weight, narrowly avoiding crushing her toes. "Just do something."
"Shouldn' be too bad," he yawned, peering at the rapidly approaching ship. "Yer a big girl. You can 'andle it."
Cassandra watched him for a moment before trying something else. She reached up and flicked him in the forehead. He stared at her in utter bewilderment, his tiredness visibly disappearing. "Wha'?"
"You seem like someone who communicates physically as well as verbally. I could hit you, but flicking has a much smaller chance of hurting either of us than a slap or a punch."
Damien exhaled noisily and got to his feet again. "Aye, Cap'n. You sure you weren' a pirate? Bah. What've these fuckers done?"
"They obviously want to sink us. I know that we could just commandeer their ship, but I rather like the Knave. Therefore, if one of us had to be sunk, I'd rather it be them than us." She smirked as she followed the other ship's movement. "But between you and me, we don't need a reason to kill them, do we? They're just annoying us."
He gave a roaring laugh and clapped his hand to her back hard enough to send her staggering against the railing. "Yahahahar! Proper fucking answer! Yer a black'earted sea bitch, all righ'! I got enough sleep; 's time t' fuckin' fight!"
Her smirk widened. Perhaps dealing with Damien wouldn't be as hard as she thought. As the ship snuck up on the starboard side, she sighed as she once again reminded herself never to entrust Lyn with watching something ever again.
"Ah, fuckin' 'ell," Damien groaned, staring at the men whirling grappling hooks in slow circles. "Only a score o' you cunts? That ain' fair."
"I know. Think of it as a punishment for not paying your four hundred head ticket."
The whistles of the grappling hooks flying through the air were drowned out by the broadside attacks both ships were launching and Damien's mad laughter. Lyn, for some unexplained reason, hadn't moved from the crow's nest, choosing instead to peer interestedly down at the battle.
Cassandra drew her knives, noting carefully how many hooks had made it over. Thirteen had been thrown, but Damien had seized the last one. After yanking its holder into the foaming water, he swung it at the gathered pirates like a flail, goring two men through the chest and knocking them into three others. He leapt to the other ship with a crazed howl, flames erupting from his body. Only a few men tried to board; the rest stayed to attack the still sleepy navigator.
"Rocks ahead, Captain!" Lyn yelled, drawing Cassandra's attention to the bow of the ship. Some rocks were indeed jutting menacingly out of the water, standing directly in the path of the two ships. She pulled the wheel as hard as she could, then realized that the hooks were keeping the ships together. She gave a soundless curse as she thought of the fastest way to change course. She lashed the wheel to the side and unholstered her pistol.
"Sacrae Luae!" she shouted, kicking off the railing and spinning in midair. She shot thrice, cleanly severing the ropes connecting the two ships. Still spinning, she watched as the Howling Knave curved sharply away, narrowly missing the black rocks before them. The other ship turned the other direction, faring less fortunately than the Knave: a significant portion of the port side was smashed against the unyielding stone.
She hit the water on her side, the air driven from her lungs. Just as she poked her head above water, a man clutching the hook stuck through his profusely bleeding chest fell over the railings and crashed into her. She tried to free herself of the heavy corpse, but the rope from the hook was tangling around her thrashing limbs. They tightened until she was unable to move at all. She gasped for one last breath before submerging completely.
\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\
The instant she saw the wounded guy knock Captain into the water, Lyn was on the move. She pulled off her rapier and stripped down to her underwear. She vaulted over the edge of the crow's nest and sprinted along the yard with perfect balance. She put her hands together above her head and threw herself off, arcing through the air and punching through the surface.
Lyn searched around, trying to see where Captain had gone. She saw to her dismay that the brown-haired pirate had been sucked into the wake of the departing ship and was still sinking due to the dead weight. Swimming as hard as she could, she flew forwards, trying desperately to catch up. Finally reaching her after a few tense seconds, Lyn grabbed on and kicked hard, stopping their downward momentum.
Captain's eyes were closing, but Lyn wouldn't have that. She instantly placed her mouth over Captain's and exhaled, giving her a lungful of air. The still pirate remained unresponsive for a moment, then thankfully came back to life. Lyn grinned in relief and, while Captain worked to extract herself from the rope and pushed the body away, pulled them all towards the surface.
The seconds ticked by and air grew short, but they fought on valiantly. The enemy pirate finally fell away, the hook still stuck in his chest. Lyn felt the rope tug around her ankle and squeezed Captain's shoulders frantically. Grinning with relief, she pushed the knife into Captain's waiting hands. The captain caught it and slashed the rope just as it pulled taught.
When they broke the surface, they floated for a while and only gasped for air. Lyn recovered more quickly and beamed at the woman holding desperately onto her. "Next time you go for a swim, do it without somebody who's trying to kill you, huh?"
Captain finished her wet, hacking cough by spitting hard and wiping her mouth. "Thank you. You saved my life."
"I owe you mine a thousand times over," Lyn replied cheerfully, "so don't worry about it!"
A loud explosion sent shockwaves through the water, causing small waves toward the two women. Captain partially pushed Lyn out of the water, causing herself to sink completely. Lyn hit the water just as the waves hit them. She quickly tugged Captain back up to the surface, where she inhaled another deep breath of the briny air. Nodding thankfully again, Captain turned back to where the explosion had come from, and Lyn followed suit.
The enemy ship had been blown apart, enormous pieces of shrapnel hissing dangerously though the air. Captain watched a particularly large splinter that was spinning towards them, its pointed end looking definitely lethal. "Look out!" she shouted, trying to push Lyn out of the way.
Just as it was about to strike, a cannonball gave it a glancing blow and sent it careening to the side. "All right out there, mates?"
Turning around, they saw Alexander poking his head out of a cannon hole, waving the smoke from the recently fired cannon out of his face. They waved back, and Lyn vowed to do something to make it up to him. He flashed them a thumbs up and vanished, reappearing a few moments later on the main deck and ascending to the helm. With some difficulty, he unlashed the rope holding the Knave on its present course and turned it towards them. Captain flung herself onto a piece of wood floating nearby and visibly relaxed before looking around. "Where is Damien?"
A bone-rattling snore drifted over to them, causing Lyn to giggle. Damien was draped across the better portion of the ship's main mast, fast asleep again. Despite the massive amount of wood, his weight still managed to cause the mast to dip deeply into the water. He was also leaving a large trail of blood through the water, but, judging by the feeding frenzy of sharks at the wreckage of the other ship, he was safe from the predators of the sea.
"Well done," Captain praised. "Not bad for your first naval sortie."
"Even though all three of us had to save your butt at some point?" Lyn asked her.
The first mate's cheerful grin never left her face, even when Captain's slow punch connected with her head.
And the chapter ends. A naval battle's just the thing to christen a new pirate crew, right?