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Pirate Quote! where is the thump-thump?
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H e a r t I n A H e a d l o c k
The port of Tortuga, the pirate capital of the Spanish main, was one of the most dangerous places in the entire world. Not because the people there happen to be worse than everywhere else. It wasn't some colossal flock of inbred, disgusting, moral-less ingrates. No, the people in Tortuga were exactly the same as everywhere else in the world: there are some that are bad, some that are really, really bad, and some that are not so bad as the others. What made this port-town something special in the ways of debauchery and wrongdoing was the rate in which the more wicked of individuals happen to be accepted by the general populace. Pirates, thieves, rapists, the undead, homosexuals, -- all manners of outcasts, really -- they made their home here and their living by staying down and out of as much trouble as possible. All they want to do is live, and living normally stopped when you started sticking your nose into other people's business; Justice has a way of making you get noticed. To live, and to make a bit of profit along the way, that was a Tortegean's true quest.
Lou was just trying to live. Well, she had just been trying to live up until a few weeks ago. That was before dreams of fire had filled all of her thoughts and left no space for her pretending, her acting, her "just living." It had been almost three years, her just getting by, working at the Gilded Garter, which Steven McCook, an old friend of hers, had opened just to give her a place to sing. All of this time she had given little to no thought to all of the sailors that had died, practically at her hand, or to the flames or to snake-slitted eyes. In a way, Lou had been colorblind for these three years. She knew the basics, black, white; shadow and light; the moon from the sun; but… but she had held no sense of flavor; rum hadn't burnt and cigars had been idle smoke. She had been numb to the tattooing effects of life, the imprints it left on you, Louene Rivera had been a ghost.
Something had died with her when her ship had been hijacked and then ruined. Something had died within her… Yet, like a phoenix, the fire would give her a new life. A life that would let her deliver pain to those that had one brought it.
So, without much thought to the dancing friends who thought they knew everything about her, but really knew nothing, she had organized her own escape. An escape from this rut. She had taken the one dress that would fit her perfectly, like her own would, and stolen back from the dark-wooded shop what she had given the clerk years ago. It had been to ensure her own safety, giving it away. She had told the clerk to sell it, but he had held onto to whatever reason and now he faced the punishment. It was his own fault for not making his money while he could.
Apparently Lou had blown off a few too many fingers, though. There was a threshold in each person, if you didn't cause enough pain then he wouldn't be scared and keep his trap closed, but if you went to far over that threshold the victim would tell anyone anything in fear that it would happen again. When she had given him the spoon, life had been, life had been, the most important thing to her. Suddenly she had become all about conserving her own existence until death took her and she could be with her men; she had decided to give up, in memory of her men, the sea as a kind of redemption. However, her men would have told her to go kick the guy what did this to them's hairy ass. She had been afraid, not her men, and now it was time to go and do what she had been avoiding.
Lou would use that which he had given her; she would deliver pain.
Somehow Blaze had been able to keep her novice little self from talking up a storm while they moved towards the harbor. Near death, or being thrown into a brothel, experiences were obviously good for the girl, who was probably contemplating what could have happened if she didn't have a friend with a nose for trouble. What she should have been wondering is what would have happened if she didn't have a friend with an incredibly guilty conscious. Louene really did care about Blaze, more than any of the other girls at the tavern, or that she had ever met really; it was just that she had a difficulty with most women. Blaze wasn't a habitual whiner, didn't dote on men like they were pieces of candy and she must try each one before choosing, and she made it a habit of having more than a half-a-lick of sense about her. Still, Lou found herself tiring of the woman a few years younger than herself rather frequently. This was one of those moments.
Her eyes, big and light brown, were constantly on her in this doe, "please-make-it-all-right!" way. It was maddening. Half of Lou very strongly desired to tell the girl to look at her own hands if she simply must stare at something, but instead Lou just walked faster. It wasn't her fault, she tried to remind herself, but she didn't entirely believe there could be anyone else to blame.
Her feet, the soft leather of her boots barely audible on the planks, guided her towards where she had tied her boat up; it was dark, so dark that her eyes were practically useless. Blaze followed her without much mishap, except for once when her dress caught on a nail that was sticking out and she ripped a huge chunk of red, blood-stained fabric out of it in her rush to keep up. The "RIIIIP" noise caused Lou to send a piercing glare in the incompetents direction. "Obviously," She turned back around and pressed on, but her voice held more rage than most would ever thought possible for a whisper. Any good captain could hold a sense of anger at any decibel. "even some human bein's be havin' problems wiff walkin' right-up." Blaze lowered her eyes timidly but kept walking forward until she was practically glued to Lou's back. Funny how gingerly some acted after being scared shitless. Lou had never been the kind to act like this… she had only gone from angry to pissed off when interrogated, tortured, whatever the day called for.
A twenty-two foot boat with a single mast was bobbing with the ebb and flow of the black waves beneath it. The water rippled and attempted to catch light that wasn't there. It looked like a finely cut onyx, only reflecting more blackness onto the owner. The dingy wasn't very impressive to someone who knew nothing about them, but to someone who did, like Lou, she knew she had gotten a bargain for her money. It was a bit shallower on the draft and had a good stable build. Yes, it had been an exceptional find. Lou hopped from the dock into the vessel without much thought, these types of things, how to correctly place her foot so she would be stable, were memories long conserved in her muscle tissue and heart. It was like bringing an old friend back to life. She began pulling on a few lines, fully preparing and checking all of the rigging. Blaze made to follow her but obviously thought better of it, because she sat down on the bit of the dock nearest the dingy seconds later. Apparently the ruby-dressed dancer was more than content with staying out of Lou's way as she did whatever she needed to. She had taken the reprimand to heart.
Lou climbed without any aid from footholds or rope up the mast. She had to have something to her advantage on a ship ton of good men twice her size; speed and agility and parlor tricks of great aerodynamics were her type of advantages. She secured the cables, tightened the lashings, and checked the wind… all seemed proper. For a moment she just watched the waves rolling out far beyond all of them. The lamps on the shore to alert sailors of the island's location gave her enough light to see if any boats were there to get in her way while she was leaving. However, it looked like there wouldn't be any huge windblocks as she left. Good news. Jumping back down into the main bed of the ship she let loose the canvas. It dropped and hung properly. Lou reached her hand out intending for Blaze to take it.
They were ready to leave.
"Ye leavin' already, gel, without comin' to say goodbye?" That voice. Shivers literally crawled up and down her back. She glanced, absently, from the yellow-white eyes that shone in the darkness to the sails of her dingy. There were two huge diagonal slashes ruining them; useless, they were bloody useless now and without them so was her escape. The old man had bloody one-upped her. She was trapped.
"'ow the 'ell did ye know; 'ow did ye find me, Hector?" Blaze had already stood up and was now looking down the end of this obvious pirate's pistol. Today was definitely not that girl's day. A second later she was wrapped up by his arm and held in front of himself like a shield. He was wary of her knives; he was a smart man, too bloody smart for his own good. Unfortunately for him though, his head was still exposed. She took note of it.
Barbossa's only answer was to smirk pompously at her. He knew that he had won this battle. Every single cell in Lou's body was shaking from anger. Of course Jack hadn't come alone, she had said it herself, but she hadn't know that Hector Barbossa and Jack Sparrow did anything together anymore other than fight. Working together against her shouldn't have even been possible let alone happened. Her curly locks blew into her face, but she made no move to pull them out. "I need the spoon." Lou frowned at him.
A deep frown, a scowl, one that encompassed all motherly dislike of her child. Barbossa was definitely not her own offspring, good lord her was a decade or two her senior, but this wickedness she had once contributed to. "Ye do not. Ye want it, as everyone else does, but that doesn't mean ye 'ave any right to claim it as yer own." Blaze was one the verge of hyperventilating. The older man followed her eyes down to the zoned out, already bleeding, held to gun point girl; his solution was to shake her out of her stupor and give her a disapproving look. Surprisingly, it worked; Blaze ceased all attention-seeking behavior after that.
He gave Lou a smile one that showed teeth and everything. He was apparently amused by her retort. His ringed finger came to rest on the pistol's lever, her eyes followed it the threat was understood, and his smile became cruel. Blaze couldn't get her brains blown out by this man on the slimy dock of Tortuga. No, they both weren't mean to end in this rum-soaked land and so they would leave now together someway. "Where it be, gel." She had to tell him something; Barbossa wouldn't have himself diverge from the point.
"I don't 'ave it 'nymore; ye are botherin' the wrong person. I might be trying to get away from him, that's why I be leaving, 'cause I've been 'ere too long. 'e 'as it if 'nyone does." She was slow with her words, choosing the lie carefully. Barbossa was a hard one to lie to, but if he knew no better than this would be easy enough. The wind shifted, the sails fluttered depressingly, and the boat rocked a bit, but even as she shifted instinctively with the boat her gaze on his large, yellowish eyes didn't waiver and neither did her resolve. The dock itself creaked ominously as the direction of the whitecaps turned out of her favor; all hope was officially gone if mother nature had turned against her as well.
"Snake-eye?" He had taken the bite, thank God. A sigh of relief was barely caught in her throat. Obviously Lou had been out of the loop for far too long, her emotions were far to easily perceived now. Her fingers pulled down the bottoms of her shorts a little finding them a little too short when Barbossa let his vision slip. She felt like a whore when he looked at her like that, a few too many near-rapes had made her wary of those kind of looks. Men were on the ships without women for a long, long time, she almost didn't blame them for their actions, but it was hard for her to use desire as an excuse of bad behavior, but she made no mention of it, not when things were going her way.
"Aye, 'e 'as it." Barbossa looked out at the sea behind her obviously sensing the storm coming just as she had. Thinking of his ship and crew, the two things she had lost, and what he should prepare to do on the morrow. His eyes drifted back down to her, she could see the gears turning behind his eyes.
"Is that so?" His muscles tightened a little. The movement was miniscule but led to a slight rise of his brow. She knew the look. It caused her to swallow hard.
Lou could tell it was meant rhetorically but her mouth opened on it's own to immediately quip back, "It be so." Trying to sound final, hoping that he would just walk away, but knowing, deep down, that this would already not work.
"Then, answer me this, Missy, why would 'e be lookin' for ye and something that 'e already 'as?" He had just been pulling her chain, seeing the pull of her conscious. Waiting to see if she would lie to know if he could ever trust her again. Apparently, she had failed the test and would probably never be trusted by her own sea-mate again. He had caught her and now knew she had it, or at least knew where it was. If he knew that it was on her he probably would have already killed her. "Do not try to toy with me, E'Louene Vera. That be what ye go by these days, isn't it?" The tone of his voice was more condescending than an spoiled, piece-of-shit older brother talking to his younger sibling.
She snarled. Putting all her distaste for the scraggly-bearded man in front of her into a single guttural noise. Her own hand flew to her belt where her knives were and clutched it tightly. It had been a while since she had used them for what they had originally been intended. A gift from a friend in Singapore, the only thing she had left to remember him by anymore. "I will always, always be Captain Lou Rivera, and ye'd do well to remember it, sailor!" Her voice was much louder than she had expected it would be. Almost everyone these days had heard the story, used it to hush the gutter children, entice a bar wench, or ease the burn of rum. More than a few ears perked up at the sound of the infamous name. She had damned herself. If someone saw her than everything, all her trials and laying low, would be for naught.
Barbossa gave a nod of concession. She was a capable pirate and sailor, far more so than most any man he had ever seen in his entire life. Hard-working, dedicated, smart, hard, and passionate about all things to do with the sea and her tossing waves. Something inside of Barbossa wanted nothing more than to just grab Lou and take her with him to the Pearl. Work out some accord of equal profit. It is rare when you can look back at a blood-thirty past and find one moment of innocence and brightness. His time aboard the Widow was that. They were pirates, yes, but then there had been honor in it. Power in the amount of loyalty you held, not the other way around. It had been a different time, but he wasn't necessarily sure if it had been so much better than how he was living now.
He had been young, well, relatively so anyway. It had been just past his twenty-ninth year and had been hand-picked by Captain Ghost Conurei himself for his "honest nature" of all things. Appearing on such an infamous pirate vessel he was looking forward to just doing the duties he enjoyed and serving such a grand captain, and so he did them and so he served; however, after a raid of a small settlement on Nassau the captain brought back a girl. She had been horribly skinny and shy, Barbossa had barely believed that she was in fact a human being and not some zombie there to feed on them. Funny how things turn out. Damn, no one could quite understand how glorious living could be until they hadn't had it for such a long time.
Zombies. Both of them had been zombies, just in different ways. "Tell me, Captain, Is it worth more than her life?" He pulled back the lever. Never gain would Barbossa allow himself to be lowered to that level. Never again would he let someone take his own destiny in their hands. He had lost all will to trust, and sometimes… in the darkness… it hurt to realize that. There was a click from the gun, the lever secured, ready to kill Blaze, throughout the dock area. It echoed loudly inside of Lou's head; she was sure that those people two or three rows over could hear it. Hear it threatening her and Blaze and the new life that she had promised to start.
Lou looked at Blaze a long time, thinking… evaluating. It felt like a long time, anyway, but it had probably not been more than ten or fifteen seconds. "Tell him." She was quiet but sure of herself, attempting to reason with a would-be friend; however, she would be okay, Lou was sure of it. "This cannot be worth more than my life, Louene. Tell him." Here was another choice, another rock and another hard spot. Hadn't this been, essentially, already played out three and a half years ago… except bigger. The choice here was the same. The pull and strain of different responsibilities. She had made a promise to guard and protect two different things. They were both in situations where giving them over would leave them helpless. She had to choose.
… but there wasn't even a choice to make. "It is, Rose." She looked down at the surface of the boat for a second. When she looked back up at Barbossa and Rosalie, Blaze, Lou was firm. "It is more important than him, you, or me, and I cannot allow it to become tainted. I am sorry that you are stuck in this, and I pray they spare you, but you aren't enough… too many have died for it already for me to just hand it over now." During her little speech, she had started edging backward, but her passionate, musical voice had kept Barbossa distracted just long enough.
Her foot caught on the wooden, raised railing of the boat. She let herself go, no tightening of the muscles or resistance. "Please, forgive me." The words were soft, breathy, and if it hadn't been for the wind probably unheard. Blaze felt the burn of betrayal.
As Lou began to fall backwards Barbossa lifted the gun away from Blaze's forehead and pointed it towards the water, but Lou was speed personified. Her knife had already been let loose. It took out his large felt hat and pinned it to the side of the boat behind him. She hit the water half a second later and let her body drift noiselessly to the bottom of the ocean. Hector fired a few shots into the depths but highly doubted he hit anything but that big damned puddle they called the ocean. "Damn," he muttered to the wind. How was she so slippery? He had cornered her and yet still the woman got away completely unharmed. Although he shouldn't have been surprised, running away was a pirate's specialty.
Blaze looked up at him with big eyes, doe eyes. They begged for her not to be harmed and that was the only thing Barbossa wanted to do with them. Kill, shed blood, relieve some of this stress and frustration inside him, but he thought better of it. His hand unwrapped from around her the muscles aching to be stretched, but a second later he wrapped his hand around her throat. For a second he was sure he saw something akin to relief in those eyes. No, he just wasn't that kind of guy. Rosalie Hawkings tried to breath around the obstruction but only got a wheeze in and out. Her eyes were dancing wildly around in panic. Would she die here, now, at the hands of a psycho, because of something Lou had or hadn't done? No, she would find her own avenue to secure her safety. Hector, this man, would not kill her easily. One of her hands, seemingly with ideas of it's own, raked down the side of his face. She could feel the skin beneath her short nails. He wouldn't take her easily, she would fight.
Hector felt surprised for the second time in five minutes. This little slip of a girl, who had been so meek throughout all of this, dared to… scratch him? He slapped her, not very hard considering he still had her in his grasp and he didn't want to cause himself pain, but hard enough to show her that was a very bad idea. Her face whipped to the side, her cheek turned a cherry red to match her dress, and she could taste a metallic something in her mouth. "I would not be doin' that if I were you, lass." The stare he settled on her then was far more intimidating than any strike could have been.
Blaze wanted to crawl inside her own skin and hide. Hide away from the harshness of reality. There had to be someway out of all of this. "What would you 'ave me do then? There must be somethin' worth the value of me life I could offer." She hadn't meant it in any seductive kind of way, but the way the old bloke made her realize that was being taken into consideration. Somehow everything had gone full circle to her offering her body to a not-so-desirable seadog. It's ironic the way the world turns upon itself.
Something inside Barbossa clicked. Lou would still be leaving, not in this boat, and not under his watch, but she would be leaving. Leaving to go to the same place she had been intending to go before their little interlude. All he had to do was know where she was going. There was still a chance. "There be only one thing I want from ye." The way she closed her eyes and prayed that it wasn't what she thought it would be was rather annoying. Hector thought about toying with her just because of it, but opted for the fiscal profit. "Where was Lou going?"
"Ye will let me live if I tell you?"
"Aye, on me honor as a pirate." The girl gave him a 'yeah, right.' look that could have showed even the most sarcastic of looks a thing or two. "… and on me love for the sea." Blaze looked a little more secure with that, but only a very little bit.
"Nassau Port. She was going to someone strong enough to watch over me for a while." Barbossa was blinded by the obviousness of the choice. Of course she was going back to the one person who had loved her more than his own son. Her financial backer, her would-be paternal figure… of course. Normally he would have doubted this Blaze, Rose, whoever she was, a little more, but it made sense. Still, he wasn't just going to let her go run away back to her little tavern.
"Very well, let's go."
The girl erupted into a fit screaming of honor and things promised, but Hector just continued onward dragging her along behind himself. The rowboat they had brought to shore from the Pearl was but a few dozen yards away. "Ye bloody promised on yer love for the sea." He rolled his eyes; it was embarrassing for her to be shrieking so unladylike.
"Aye, that I did, but all I promised ye was yer life… that you continue to have, but not very much longer if ye don't bloody hush. As for yer release, you were mum to the conditions of yer livelihood so I will continue to hold that much of ye in my hands." After his quiet declaration Blaze settled down a little, but refused to walk normally… making him pull her along after himself. It was like dealing with a child, he wanted very much to slap her around a bit more so maybe she would learn some manners.
Robert, Mack, and Gibbs… and Jack whom had dozed off on the floor of the small boat, were all waiting for him to see how he faired. He neared, red temptress in tow, and they let out a hoot of supposed victory. Jack opened one of his eyes and righted himself due to all of the noise. When he saw Blaze with Barbossa a scowl of disapproval tore across his lips. Blaze tried her best to hide behind Barbossa, but it did little good, because he kept moving around.
"So ye got her, did ye?" Jack asked in quiet defeat.
"I got something', but this gel is not Lou Rivera. She knows nothing of the spoon." Robert had the decency to help the unwilling girl onto the small craft after Barbossa slid easily onboard.
"Then why do ye 'ave 'er, then?" He looked rather sulky for a pirate captain.
"'cause she knows someone who does."
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