And here is the next installment of the Black Glove Pirates. What does Cassandra have in mind for the mercenaries? Only I know... (though you will in under a minute)
Twin dark shadows raced across the rooftops, barely disturbing anything in their path. Cassandra had not run like this in months, but her body was fueled with adrenaline and her muscles were flooded with energy. Her breathing was light in spite of the weight of her weapons and the vigorous pace the pair was keeping. A wisp of a smirk still hung on her lips; even in the face of the dark act she was about to commit, she was enjoying herself.
As she vaulted over a chimney, she gave a sideways glance at the woman beside her. Raven was moving more easily than her captain, considering the fact that she only spent half of the time actually touching the rooftops and the other half flying through the air. Cassandra shook her head at the ease with which the smaller woman traversed terrain. Raven's family may have had the advantage with mobility and secret techniques, but the Negras' were trained not to stop until the target was dead and the assassin was safely out of harm's way, without drawing attention to themselves. They were some of the brilliant strategists in the world, after all.
Catching sight of the church before her, she glanced upwards and realized it would be an excellent vantage point. Unwrapping the rope from around her waist and quickly knotting it into a wide loop, she began whirling the lasso above her head as she approached the edge of the roof. Hopping up from a ceiling vent onto a clothesline, she prepared for her leap, having not done such an action in ages. She braced herself ever so briefly before hurling herself into the air, still swinging her rope above her head. She soared forward for a moment, then threw the lasso with all of her might, aiming for one of the gargoyles decorating the walls of the church.
Ordinarily, such a throw would have been a foolhardy act. But Cassandra had worked endlessly to perfect it and had used it countless times in previous assassinations. The rope snagged the stone creature's neck and drew taut with a quick yank on the pirate's part. Cassandra began working her way up the rope even before she struck the church wall, using all of her arm strength to pull herself up. Feeling gravity take over and swing her towards the church, she grabbed on tightly and placed her legs out in front of her, bracing for impact.
Upon colliding with the wall, she used her toes to grab onto a decorative furl curling along with wall, preventing her from bouncing away. She felt every joint in all twenty digits cry in pain as they were pushed to the limits of their capabilities, straining to keep hold of their respective anchors. Despite the pain, she released her hold on neither the wall nor the rope. After letting the flares subside to throbbing aches, she began scaling the wall with practiced ease, reaching the stone gargoyle in no time. From there, she unwrapped the rope and began spinning the lasso once more, aiming for a protruding piece of décor further up the wall. She ascended in this manner, wasting no time to get to the top.
When she finally arrived at the enormous bell hanging near the top, she found that Raven was already waiting for her. Shaking her head slightly, she pulled herself into the belfry and sat down, catching her breath. "Curse you and your ability to move freely in all six directions," she said jokingly, resting against a supporting column.
"Where is the mercenaries' base of operations?" Raven asked, peering around at the city. "It would be most unwise to have them this close to the ocean."
"Oh, they're quite a ways in that direction," Cassandra responded, taking time to slow her breathing. "But this is close enough for me."
Raven turned to her. "You intend to kill them at this distance?"
"No, I only brought the rifle along to look cool," Cassandra retorted sarcastically.
"But it would be useful now."
"I'm being sarcastic."
"Then why did you bring the pistols?"
"There are operatives all over this city. It wouldn't be hard to find me when I start sniping because I didn't bring my silencer and I want to be able to defend myself if the need arises."
"So what was the purpose of my accompaniment?"
Cassandra sighed and lay back on the dusty floorboards. "You, Raven, are going to enter the facilities and cause as much mayhem as you want."
"Very well," Raven droned. "Where is the base?"
"I'll show you." Cassandra sat back up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from her back. She unfolded the legs from the barrel and anchored them to the floor, ensuring the stability of her weapon. Removing her ammunition-covered bandolier and setting it aside, she lay down on her stomach and peered through the lenses. She scanned the distant town for the building, locating it in just under a minute. Grinning with satisfaction, she zoomed in on the mercenary base, searching for her target. "Where are you…" she muttered to herself.
Her smile widened as she located the object of her ire. "Here we are. Mick Barroy, codenamed Zulu. Blond hair, scar on left cheek that my aunt gave him."
"Why did your aunt injure him?" Raven asked.
"Long story," Cassandra murmured dismissively. "And look, he's decked out in all his finery, save for his helmet. Four-year old battlesuit, standard model: machine gun, targeting system, plate armor. Except for the flamethrower. That's specially requested."
"How do you intend to kill him?"
"Easy. He has pressurized gas cylinders for his flames. Now shush for a second. Voluntas Carnae…"
Cassandra felt adrenaline course through her system once more, enhancing her senses further. Simply because she knew where the gas tanks were didn't mean she could easily eliminate him. Her job was not simply to kill him, but to give a clear indication of the base so Raven could infiltrate it. She needed to wait until he was a certain distance from any sources of heat before firing, a difficult task when he was in a room filled with torches. She focused on his back and squeezed ever so slightly on the trigger, preparing herself for the shot. Her mind began running through a series of calculations, factoring in wind speed, the distance to Zulu, the time delay between the shot and the impact and the countless other aspects that could alter the course of the bullet.
Exhaling completely, she aimed the rifle towards a blank portion of sky and concentrated, her finger tightening on the trigger. The rifle practically convulsed as it spat out the round, a loud retort echoing through the air.
"Boom," she said, looking through the lenses at Zulu one more. "Minervae Manica Nigra."
She waited patiently for the bullet to reach the building, having lost sight of it the moment it had entered the dark night. She idly wondered what would happen if she missed. The mercenaries would certainly be alerted of her presence, but that was a risk she wanted to take. She decided against firing another shot immediately afterwards; there was no need to kill Zulu that badly. The goal was to send a message. If she killed him, message clear. If not, warning shots were always nice too.
When the bullet smashed through the glass and struck his armor, she grinned and held up her gloved hand. "Wait for it…"
The sudden release of pressurized gas propelled the mercenary leader forward, the weight of the battlesuit the only thing preventing him from blasting through the wall on the other side of the room. As it was, he was knocked off his feet and sent crashing along the ground, receiving no help from the mercenaries running for cover. "Wait for it…"
The area was illuminated as the fuel finally reached the nearby torches, instantly catching fire. The room exploded apart, the glass shattering, the roof collapsing, the walls buckling. Mercenaries where hurled through the air like ragdolls along with debris, most of them having caught on fire in the initial explosion. She watched with perverse glee as other men and women rushed to contain the conflagration, but were unable to approach it due to the intense heat. Raising her head and catching sight of the tiny yellow speck in the distance, she pointed at the light as if shooting a gun, her thumb out and her pointer finger extended. "Go."
Raven nodded once and leapt from the building in a graceful dive, disappearing over the edge. A quick glance over the edge revealed that the woman was shooting quickly through the air, only visible outlined against the brightly-lit city below her. Cassandra leaned back and ejected the spent round, strapping the casing back onto her bandolier so as to leave no evidence. "And that's how Cassandra Negras shoots a rifle."
Staring at her smoking weapon, she decided to wait for Raven to reach the headquarters before firing again. She exhaled deeply and mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. She was immensely pleased with herself; not only did she prove that her skills and knowledge had not been forgotten despite her change of profession, but she had done so better than she ever had before.
She was in the middle of reloading her rifle when she caught sight of something lying on the dusty floor that hadn't been there before. Raising an eyebrow, she got up and walked over, staring down at it. Her eyes widened when she realized that it was a small black glove, and a right-handed one at that. Picking it up, she was wondering how it had gotten there when recognition struck her like a thunderbolt. She gave a small laugh as she tucked the glove into her pocket, making sure it couldn't fall out. "As of now, Raven, you are officially no longer an assassin. You are a Black Glove Pirate."
Cassandra lay back down and gazed through the lenses, doing her best to locate her crewmember. She saw with amazement that Raven was almost there, thirty seconds away at most. The black-clad woman was hopping from treetop to treetop, conserving her energy by using the natural spring of tree branches to move along. Arriving at the edge of the distant village, Raven landed gracefully on top of a water tower, crouching down and catching her breath. After pausing for a moment, she vanished, reappearing inside the mercenary compound. She moved with effortless fluidity, cutting down a dozen men before anybody figured out what was going on.
Squeezing off another shot for good measure, Cassandra sighed and began to reload. Her initial adrenaline rush over and her desire for vengeance vanishing, she began to reflect upon the massacre she had allowed to happen. She usually did not relish killing another person, so some part of her was still against the murder of so many people. Comforted by the fact that Lyn and Alexander weren't there and the knowledge that this was the best and probably only way to send the message across, she shook her head and put her eye to the lens again, picking out another target.
Things continued in this vein for several minutes. Cassandra only halted after all twenty one rounds were spent, having amassed a total of thirty two kills excluding those felled in the initial explosion. Raven had apparently been counting the shots, for she had disappeared the instant the final shot blasted a hole through a trio of mercenaries attempting to sneak up on the petite doctor. Cassandra had largely ignored the shouts coming from directly below her until now, but she felt that now was the time to address them. Standing up straight and rolling her neck and limbs around to alleviate some of the stiffness, she glanced downwards, spying several people rapidly ascending the stairs to the belfry.
"Time to go," she whispered, folding her rifle's stand back to its original position and strapping it to her back. After scanning the area to make sure she had not left anything behind, she took a running jump off the edge just as the trapdoor slammed open and mercenaries began pouring forth. She twisted around in midair and drew her pistols, firing off shots at the souls brave enough to peek over the edge of the drop. Holstering them as the earth rushed up to greet her, she unraveled her rope with a flick of her wrist and formed a hasty lasso, flinging it back towards the building. This time, the lasso caught on and pulled off the object she was trying to anchor herself to, falling uselessly towards the ground. Panic welling up within her chest, she pulled the rope back and withdrew her old throwing knife, wrapping the rope securely around the end and heaving it with all her might.
Luckily, this did the trick. The knife embedded itself in the masonry and she was pulled towards the church wall once more. Seeing that she was flying towards a window, she raised her knees and bowed her head, shielding her body from the inevitable encounter with stained glass shards. The knife was pulled free as she crashed through the window, tumbling head over heels along the wooden walkways. She pulled out of her roll with a mighty thrust of her torso, wrapping the cord around her waist as quickly as she could. After locating a spiral staircase, she reached the end of the rope and released the knife from its knot with a swift movement, tucking the blade back into her belt. Ignoring the twisting stairs in favor of zigzagging down the middle from banister to banister, she practically fell downwards, occasionally glancing upwards to keep track of her pursuers.
She burst out of the front door like an angry bull, plowing through anybody and everybody that was in her way. Speed was of the essence now and she didn't think for a second that she would be able to evade her pursuers by ascending to the rooftops. Knowing that her location was known by everybody in town who was after her head, she wasted no time before hollering at the top of her lungs, yelling for everybody to move out of her way. She found that when the person shouting such things was armed to the teeth, people generally tended to listen to them.
She was vaulting through a street merchant's stand in a single bound when a shot rang out, splintering the wood beside her. She cursed aloud and began dodging and weaving from side to side, pushing anything she possibly could into her followers' way. Her breath began coming in heavy gasps as her muscles began to tire, but she forced herself to press onwards, doing her best to avoid more bullets sent in her general direction.
After a particularly close shave where the bullet had whizzed close enough to ruffle her hair, she withdrew her pistols and began shooting behind her whenever an opportunity became available, whether by flipping over low walls, sliding beneath a cart or simply turning a corner. While it was evident that she was barely hitting them because she was more concentrated in fleeing than fighting, it caused the gunshots to lessen as the mercenaries were forced to focus on dodging her bullets as well. This extra breathing time was what she needed to keep a level mind as she raced towards her ship.
Regardless of how weary she felt and how close the shots had come to striking her, she managed to redouble her efforts when she rounded a corner and the Howling Knave came into view. She fairly flew over the paved road, energy pumping through her legs and arms. A small smirk grew on her face as she felt the rough transition from stone street to wooden dock, almost loosing her footing slightly. Putting on one final burst of speed, she leapt into the air and grabbed ahold of the edge of the deck, barely managing to heave herself aboard. She collapsed onto the deck, chest heaving with exertion.
After recovering her breath for a moment, she hauled herself to her feet and stared about. "Black Glove Pirates! Your captain has returned!"
Receiving no response, she frowned and glanced about. Only the light in the galley was on. Sighing heavily and walking over to the galley door, she peeked inside the porthole to see her musician and first mate both drowsily peering at the cards before them, doing their best to stay awake.
"Uh… got any threes?" Lyn asked tentatively, rubbing her eyes sluggishly.
"We're playing poker," Alexander moaned with the air of a man who had just repeated the same phrase for the umpteenth time.
"Oh…" Lyn yawned widely and tilted her cards to the side. "Slapjack?"
The musician groaned and let his head fall to the table, still holding his cards in the air. "We're playing poker."
"Right… bingo?"
"We're playing- Bingo isn't even a card game…"
Shaking her head and chuckling lightly, Cassandra began to search the ship for her navigator. Upon searching every room and finding neither hide nor hair of the wayward pirate, she ascended once more to the deck. Unfortunately, she was not given the chance to search for him in the city, for mercenaries had taken up residence in and on nearby buildings and had begun firing indiscriminately at the ship. Cassandra was forced to hide in the front storage room, taking retaliatory potshots around the bulky cannon. Eventually, the men began rushing forward in waves and she had to use the cannon itself to blow them off the dock. Despite their best efforts, the proximity of the cannonballs and gunpowder to the ship's lone defender was the only thing keeping the mercenaries at bay.
It was a few minutes before the shots suddenly lessened, prompting the pirate captain to glance outside once more. A black shadow she easily identified as her doctor was flitting about, eliminating the gunmen with practiced ease. She gave a sigh of relief and slumped against the massive forward gun, wiping her brow with her sleeve. The petite woman soon appeared on the cannon's itself, her lengthy ponytail as immaculate as ever. "You put up a solid defense against them, considering your lack of backup. Where are the others?"
"Two of them are here; one of them isn't," Cassandra answered, still breathing fairly heavily. "Guess which one isn't."
"Judging by the fact that Damien is approaching the ship now and was not defending you previously, I would have to say him."
"He is?" Cassandra asked, straightening her back. "Where the hell has he been?"
"You should probably ask him yourself," Raven deadpanned.
"Good point," Cassandra conceded. "Rouse the others, will you? I want them to put themselves to bed instead of Damien throwing them inside their respective rooms."
Raven nodded and vanished instantly, a small cloud of dust the only evidence that she had been there previously. Cassandra hoisted herself upright and slowly trudged up to the deck, feeling more tired with every passing second. After dealing with her crew would be a long, long rest…
When she arrived on deck to find her crew assembled and more or less awake, she sighed and began confronting the current target of her irritation. "Damien, I told you to stay on the ship. Why did you leave?"
"And where are your pants?" Raven droned, prompting the other pirates to waken enough to realize that he was not, in fact, wearing any clothing at all.
"Woulda been back by now," he yawned, removing his black armored gauntlet from between his teeth and beginning to wiggle it back onto his immobile left hand. "Fuckin' took too long."
"What do you mean I fu-?" Cassandra asked, before sighing and waving the matter aside. "You know what? Never mind. Either way, you're here now and that's what matters."
"Furthermore, you're the first one the entire crew has seen naked," Alexander said with a chuckle. "I was sure Lyn would have that honor first."
"Hey!" the first mate shouted, suddenly rejuvenated. "I was too the first person to have that… thing! Back on the first night when it was only… Captain and… Captain… and me, she saw me naked!"
"You can't say a single person is the entire crew," Alexander shot back. "So it doesn't count."
"It does too count!"
"Does not."
"Does too!"
"Does not."
"Does too!"
"Does not!"
"Does too times infinity!"
"Look," Alexander said, holding up a finger. "One person can never be considered a crew and you can't count yourself, so there. Damien was the first."
Lyn opened her mouth, but eventually closed it again. "Well, I can be the second!"
Cassandra leapt forward and grabbed the woman in a bear hug, preventing her from removing any clothing. "What are you, children? I can't believe somebody would even have this contest! Alexander, Lyn, go to bed, both of you!"
"Yes, mommy!" Lyn chirped, twisting about and planting a long kiss on Cassandra's cheek. "Good night!"
The pirate captain released her and watched in amazement as the first mate bounded upstairs, slamming the door behind her. Shaking his head, Alexander gave a quick salute as he crossed the deck, yawning heavily as he entered the men's quarters. Nodding in satisfaction, Cassandra turned to her last problem crewmember and planted her hands on her hips. "Now, can I trust you with the task of navigating us away from the island safely and quietly?"
"No," Damien said bluntly.
"No?" Cassandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why the hell not?"
"Yonder black'earted bitch promised me a figh'," he growled, jerking a thumb in Raven's direction. "I won' leave till then."
Rolling her eyes, Cassandra turned to Raven, imploring her to accommodate the navigator's request. The doctor paused for a moment, then blinked and turned to face the scarred fighter. "I will allow to land one hit on me. Will that satiate your desire for now?"
"Ah?" Damien grumbled, cocking his head to the side.
Raven rephrased her question. "Will you do as Cassandra asks if you hit me once?"
The man pondered this for a moment, then nodded and leapt off the ship, landing on the street lining the docks in a surprisingly small crater. Raven glanced at her captain before vanishing, reappearing before the crazed navigator. Carefully leaning on a sturdy patch of railing, Cassandra watched on curiously, wondering what the doctor planned to do. There was no way Raven would let Damien land a fatal hit on her, but she knew that anything else could cause the larger pirate to demand a fair blow. This would be a curious event, to say the least.
After exchanging a few words, Damien drew his right fist back and lashed out with a powerful blow, slugging Raven in the chest with as much force as he could muster with his total blood volume three quarters of what it should be. Cassandra barely caught sight of the doctor lowering her center of gravity before the hit landed, beginning to realize why she had accepted the request: Raven surely had a way of withstanding such a blow. The small pirate skidded along the street for a moment, her feet plowing twin furrows in the smooth stones, before losing her balance and tumbling backwards, disappearing from view an instant later.
Wringing his fist out, Damien nodded in satisfaction and sprang into the air once more, landing heavily on the poop deck beside the wheel. "Wind's good, mateys! Weigh anchor an' lower th' sails, Cap'n, we're settin' off!"
Cassandra nodded and began winding the winch to raise the anchor before pausing and glancing up at the man. "Aren't I supposed to be the one giving you orders?"
"Yeh wanted t' get goin'!" he yelled back. "Why're yeh fuckin' complainin'?"
"Just get us out of here!" she shouted back humorously. He gave a thundering laugh and planted his feet firmly on the wooden boards, gripping the wheel tightly with his functioning arm. Cassandra was about to unfurl the sails when they fell open seemingly of their own accord. She grinned and walked over to the stairs leading to the women's quarters, slowly climbing them as her muscles began to protest with so much activity with so little rest. Just as she was about to enter the room, Raven appeared on the railing beside her, breathing heavily and brushing specks of dust from her pitch black outfit. "You need to get some rest."
"I will, I will," Cassandra said dismissively. "How did you take that blow of his without passing out? He nearly knocked Darren Madaxe into a coma with that!"
"One of my ancestors' techniques is focused on withstanding such strikes," Raven droned, one hand resting on her chest where Damien had struck her. "I will explain it to you later. Sleep well; I will be on watch duty tonight."
"Okay, but I want you to get some rest too," Cassandra told her. "Have Damien watch for some of the time."
Raven dipped her head once and vanished from sight. Cassandra wearily walked into her bedroom, carelessly discarding her weapons as she ambled towards her bed. She barely had time to shed her clothing as well before collapsing facefirst onto her pillow, closing her eyes sleepily. Foregoing all personal hygiene and her normal sleeping attire, she wormed her way underneath her blankets and fell instantly asleep.
Well, that was fun. Cassandra got to snipe a bit, Damien finally got to hit Raven, Lyn lost her chance to be naked, Alexander showed incredible tolerance with the first mate's antics and Raven is officially part of the crew. Not a bad note to leave Autumn Isle on, I think.