Look, I know this seems like excuses, but I promise I work on this story every week (just not the part I'm supposed to be working on).
I have so much planned!
I'm just so excited for the end that I can never sit down to concentrate on the middle.
(Just a little taste of coming attractions: I have three books planned for this series, some more indulgent for me than others, but all in good, very non-canon fun.)
Ahhhhh,
It's been too long.
L & D
—
Jeanne watched her captain with a sharp eye.
The woman was a mystery veiled in good humor.
The way that she spoke to Hyoji only reaffirmed Jeanne's confusion—such a diplomatic pirate was uncommon, even uncharacteristic for the trade.
Pirates were not bound by pleasantries and explanations, nor did they offer assistance that inconvenienced them. Pirates did as they pleased—Anne seemed duty bound to help the people of Swallow Island; so strange when pirates themselves escaped the causations of duty and honor.
Anne was a different beast, one that Jeanne knew well, one that Jeanne grew up with, feared, and admired all the same.
Anne was a businesswoman—a skilled one at that.
The deliberation displayed between Hyoji and her made that abundantly clear.
Her precise use of nonchalant, her sympathy, her conviction, her need to trade one service for another, never at the expense of herself, but rather for her own personal gain—all were tell-tale signs of an entrepreneur signing a contract, unwritten as it was. This revelation produced more questions than answers. Where had Anne learned such rhetorical and persuasive skills? Where had she down her business in the first place? How did she become so honed in the art of suasion? There were many questions that lingered in Jeanne's mind—many that she doubted would be answered anytime soon.
(It was terrifying to Jeanne that Anne could speak so little yet say so much. It was unnatural, beyond anything she had ever witnessed in her lifetime.)
"Catch me if ya can ya little brats!" Anne hollered as she raced past Jeanne. Anne grabbed Jeanne's hand and she hand no other choice but to run.
"Come on, my one and only cook! We have to escape the little devils over there!"
They ran around the cave for a good twenty minutes, only just evading the hordes of swarming children that desired their immediate arrest.
(Jeanne saw Hyoji watching them from a distance. That man didn't trust them one bit. Jeanne thought he was right to do so.)
Finally, Anne got tagged by a four year old and collapsed to the ground:
"I am vanquished!"
The children squealed and piled on top of her, yelling and hollering (quietly? It was a very strange event) and Anne laughed a muffled laugh from under the dog pile.
Jeanne didn't know what to think of her captain at all.
She was a strange mixture of simplicity and mystery, of kind and callous, of witty and shrewd.
Anne was in all honesty unknown in so many ways to her—too many—and it made Jeanne's skin crawl sometimes. A voice whispered to her that Anne had things to hide, and these things were dangerous, dangerous.
Hyoji beckoned for the captain and Anne rose from the pile, as elegantly as she could (which was not very).
Anne whistled, and the crew assembled in quick order. They followed Hyoji back into his quarters, and they all settled down.
A young girl hurried in with hot water and tea made from forest herbs. The smell was unpleasant, but Anne drank it willingly, and the crew followed. It would have been a clear dishonor to the people to reject such a hospitality from them.
Hyoji, that cold man, assessed her captain and smacked his lips. His handsome face was still distrustful, and he tapped his knee in a nervous tick.
"Yesterday, you said you understood our plight," he began, addressing Anne, "how?"
Jeanne knew it was a test.
She made eye contact with Anne, who smiled and shook her head.
Her captain knew it was a test as well.
"Hyoji, do you know what a Buster Call is?"
Everyone in the room paled, and the young man started sweating immediately. He wiped his palms against his pants and scratched his wrist. Jeanne noticed that scratched wrist, red and raw from days of nervous scratching, of lip-biting and fever-inducing stress.
Such a weight on him, she thought.
"I do." He said quietly, almost in a whisper.
"You see, Hyoji, my home island doesn't exists anymore. My entire family was slaughtered. My village, gone. My brother and I are my village's legacy." She bowed her head. "Please, believe me when I say I understand what you are going through. I don't want this conflict to end with that."
Poppy and Maigo looked at each other, and then they glanced at Jeanne.
The crew bowed their heads as well, acknowledging their captain's loss.
Hyoji swallowed thickly.
"Why?" He uttered, and for the first time he looked his age. He looked at Anne and there was a plea in his eyes, a look that spoke of a man who was lost, who was trying to be strong, but didn't know what to do.
Anne shrugged.
"Hell if I know. This world is cruel." Anne said firmly. "Don't look at it with rainbows when you see rot. Hope is necessary, but so is reality. Preferably both."
She breathed, and Hyoji hung upon it.
It was like that minute had changed their entire dynamic; there was sudden, instant respect, and Jeanne observed it, how he softened, and the subtle, almost imperceptible loathing that tinged Anne's gaze.
"What do we do?"
Anne sneered.
"First of all, stop looking at me as if I've hung the stars. You respect me because I'v e suffered, but don't you dare respect me for that alone. I am more than my suffering, and so are you. We are human beings, and we are made to suffer, endure, and make that suffering into something worthwhile." She leaned forward and grasped the front of Hyoji's shirt in a controlled sort of rage. "You will never be able to defeat these people unless you understand that. You may claim victory over them in the flesh, but they will haunt your spirit and terrorize your mind. Don't let your suffering define you."
She let go, and stood.
Her tea cup was empty, and Hyoji's was cold.
"Come talk to me after you've actually thought about what you're going to do about this, and then I'll have some pleasant suggestions."
Anne abruptly walks out, and her crew clamored after her.
Maigo shoots them a look, and Poppy nods, and Jeanne purses her lips.
They follow her into the jungle, and when Anne marched up to a large tree and turned around and plopped down at the roots, she looked at them and frowned.
She frowned and frowned and gesticulated for them to sit. They do.
"I don't want to talk about it." She said bitterly, then shook her head. "Yet. Yet, I mean. I want to tell you, I really do, but not yet."
Maigo nods.
Poppy and Jeanne are silent.
"That boy doesn't know yet, but if he doesn't get himself together, this will happen again—they'll come back, and they'll do the exact same thing again and again. That's how they are."
"The Marines?" Jeanne prompts quietly.
"Yes." Anne hisses. "The Marines." She spits and shutters.
Jeanne watches her crew.
Anne is the heart. When she feels, she feels, and no one was immune to it. She breathed life into their community, and was the tune to which they all danced to.
Maigo was the legs—the silent mover, the strong support. He was there without being asked, without fail, without utterance. He looks at his captain, and there is such empathy, such compassion in his eyes that Jeanne knows he would reject such a think if she ever dared put it into words.
Poppy, the lungs, the steady breath that calmed all. Her slight hand on Anne's knee was gentle, and warm. Jeanne realized her captain didn't even notice it—she didn't even take it into consideration, but Poppy was there, like a new breath ready to breath in life again.
Jeanne considered this all, and when her captain met her eyes, she was shocked by the warmth that greeted her.
Her captain laughed, and shook her head.
"How silly I am!" Anne flashed them a brilliant smile.
"I keep forgetting it's not just me anymore!" She winked at Jeanne.
What for, she didn't really know.
"Let's go back." Anne said suddenly, helping to pull Maigo and Poppy to their feet. "No use in brooding out here, hm?"
—
Later that night, they are once again requested of by Hyoji.
He sits in seiza, awaiting their arrival.
When Anne sits, he bows his head low, until his nose touches the straw mat they were all congregated on.
"Please excuse my disrespect, Anne. I'm sorry."
Anne observes him gently.
"I forgive you. Now, look at me in the eye, would ya?"
He rose, and shifted into a more comfortable position. He nodded and Anne took that as the queue for her to speak.
"I need a map of the island, as well as all known Marine positions. HQ and the village need to be surveillance, and I need an accurate account of the Marine's numbers, weaponry, and relevant personnel. I suggest sending a man from your people (a hunter would be preferable, they know the terrain well), and my cook Jeanne here. She is skilled in illusions, and can make sure your man and she are undetected. Two accounts also ensures that mistakes are minimal." She pauses. "Information gathering should take one day, max, and then I propose that night is spend preparing weapons, traps, plans, and anything else you can think of. We rest the next day, and then, we attack before daybreak."
Anne rubbed her chin.
"Depending on who the head officer is, we might need to figure out who is best suited to take him down, and the best manner to do so. I warn very strongly against assassination though. That's very noticeable, and punishable by death. Not ideal." She nods to Poppy. "For now, I would like you to give a map of the island to Poppy for her to study, and that hunter man (whoever you have in mind is find). They will be able to discuss what areas of the map are slightly off, and to our advantage."
Anne stops abruptly and blinks.
Hyoji blinks back.
"What?"
"Who are you?" He wonders aloud.
Jeanne can't help but agree.
Anne scratched the back of her neck and chuckled nervously.
"Turf wars tend to make you good at these sorts of things."
Maigo turned to Jeanne, horrified, and mouthed 'Turf wars?'.
Jeanne shrugged helplessly.
Poppy slapped her forehead and sighed loudly.
"What!" Anne demanded as her crew stood and left the room.
"Guys!"
—
The fire was dying.
Jeanne watched the embers breath their last, she watched them splutter and smoke and fizzle out with a quiet sigh.
The rest of the camp had fallen asleep.
There was no one else awake but her and the two watchmen at the front of the cave.
"Jeanne?" She hears from behind her, a sleepy voice, a voice that soundly like yawns and heavy eyelids. She turned.
Her captain was there, wild hair and all.
There was a silence between them that was hard to overcome.
Jeanne didn't trust her.
Anne knew it.
Her captain sat down beside her and hummed.
"What is it, Jeanne?"
In a moment, in a hushed, frantic voice, a river of unanswered questions spilled from Jeanne's lips:
"What happened to your drawl? How can you speak to Hyoji so confidently? How do you know so much about speaking? You have a brother? We're you a business woman? What was your business? Why were you in a turf war? How did you know about all those battle things? How were you so calm? Where are you from? Who the hell are you? What happened to you?"
Anne listened patiently.
"I can't answer those all tonight, but I can answer some."
Jeanne nodded, the embers dying faster and faster.
"On the island that I lived on after that, I ran a black market empire." Anne rested her cheek on her palm. "Every vender on the island answered to me, and me alone. If they had beef with each other, they'd come to me to settle it. It anyone stepped out of line, it was my job to straighten them out. My drawl—" Anne laughed, "It's a farce. It makes people underestimate me. It's a habit—a bad one. It's not like a don't trust my crew. I don't know you well enough yet, I suppose."
Her captain sighed.
"I wish I was charismatic enough to gain each of your trust instantly, like a strong gust of wind in a ready sail, but I'm not. I'm just Anne. You'll have to get used to that. As for my 'speech', I had enough cash to by some good books and educate myself. I'm not stupid, and I refuse neglect that part of myself. Oh—" Fire, the fire, it burned in Anne's eyes, "—my brother. Yes. I hope you get to meet him one day."
There is silence again.
"What about you, Jeanne?" Her captain stuns her again, and with dark eyes that were like molten bronze, she focused in on her, like Jeanne was the only person in the world. "Who are you?"
The cook recoiled, the genuine interest taking her aback.
She recovered, and breathed in deeply
"On a small island in the South Blue, I was born and raised with three sisters..."
—
The sun shone on Jeanne's face the next morning.
Next to her, her captain slept, her head in Jeanne's shoulder, and drool all over Jeanne's favorite work dress.
The cook smiled, though, and thought more fondly of her captain than the morning before.
—
The war drums began to beat. Slowly, slowly.
The Marines couldn't here them, but they rattled Anne's bones, and she could hear them in the creaking of the wind.
She laughs.
(how could she not? the carrion were circling and those dear boys had not single clue.)
—
Just to let you guys know, I'm probably going to be going back and editing the previous chapters to correct mistakes and maybe clean some things up? I don't know yet.
Review, Favorite, and Follow!
These are my lifeblood, the very way in which I find motivation and passion for this story!
(Also, would you be mad if I write a story for My Hero Academia? I've been considering it, but it's nothing fleshed out yet. Idk. I have a lot more material for The Reckoning, and I really should get to that. ALSO I'VE DRAWN SO MUCH FAN ART BUT HAVE TO PLACE TO PUT IT. I have so many concepts for new faces, but I don't what to have to redirect you guys to another site. I'll figure it out ig)
Thank you all for reading!
See you eventually!
(It's been over three years since I started this, how crazy is that?)
Sincerely,
L & D