Warning: This chapter contains underage drunkenness.
Tortuga
Tortuga, the turtle shaped island originally governed by Spanish colonists before losing it off and on to the French and English, as well as a few Dutchmen.
Tortuga, the bane of every government's existence as it proved to be the perfect hideout for the buccaneers of the Caribbean.
Tortuga; where the French and Spanish signed a treaty in 1684 to abolish piracy from the island once and for all.
And yet for some ungodly reason, piracy continued to thrive in Tortuga, and there were no signs of it stopping anytime soon.
Flora gaped at the party of pirates having the time of their lives, eyes wide and utterly horrified. Her mind continued to scream "Nonononononono!" in a panic-stricken loop before eventually ending on one word: "NOPE!"
She swiveled onto the harbor, ready to call Jerry out and get as far away from this island as possible, only to freeze in her tracks. A number of buccaneers were making their way down to the docks.
A nasty oath was expelled, the worst she had ever let out, and she hunkered down in the shadowy corner as much as possible. This island, it had to be this island!
Eagerly she watched the seaport, watching the pirates wander back and forth, carrying goods in or out of their vessels. There was no way she could summon Jerry without drawing their attention. She was trapped.
Flora pinched her temple. Did she really want to depart this hellhole without a ship and wander aimlessly across the sea again? Half of her screamed "YES!" and yet she stood her ground. The girl dragged her fingers down with a frustrated growl. The last thing she wanted to do on this godforsaken earth was associate herself with law-breaking corsairs! Even if she admired their freedom, even with the fact one risked his life to save hers, it didn't change what pirates were!
They were still treacherous oath breakers, and fraternizing with them would only solidify her status as a fugitive!
Her heart suddenly sank, the unfortunate truth sinking in as she glanced back at the dark blue that was the sea. Even if she made it back to a proper civilization, she would have to spend most of her time hiding because of her unveiled secrets. She would still have to conceal herself or risk being imprisoned or hanged simply because of what she was…
Here, within the favorite hideout of the Caribbean, she could blend right in. No one will be looking for her, and many of the denizens here were outcasts as much as she was.
Flora shivered and curled up like a frightened child. She still didn't want to go out there, not without someone by her side. Stephen, where are you?
The girl patted her shoulder, but the crab was nowhere to be found. She was alone in this.
Flora squirmed. Come now, you are nearly an adult! Her inner-self berated, if ye can survive alone at sea, then you can survive pirates! On your feet!
Reluctantly, she stood up and peeked out from her hiding spot. Oh she didn't want to do this. Not one bit, and yet what choice did she have? I'm in hell…
The young sailor exhaled a shaky breath, flexed her fingers, and then reevaluated her situation and needs. Refreshments and a change of clothes, she thought. And then…then what?
She had to join the crew of a vessel bound for the war against Roger, but…
The girl cast an uneasy glance back at the Queen Anne's Revenge and a chill crawled down her spine. I'll find a way, she affirmed uneasily. Take it slow and stick to the shadows. One thing at a time…
Satisfied, but far from confident, Flora stood up and steeled her courage as she took her first steps into the pirate town of Tortuga.
Sticking to the shadows did nothing to help Flora get by. Nearly every second she had to dive and perform embarrassing maneuvers to avoid gunshots, thrown rum bottles, and even furniture. Everywhere she turned mud-streaked pirates and wenches committing atrocious feats-from the most baffling to the most horrid-greeted her.
I'm in hell.
The teen froze when two residents, a short plump woman and a bearded man of similar stature, stumbled past her, locked within a battle of tug-o-war over a caged owl.
"Birb!" The man chirped gleefully as he pulled on the cage.
"Mine!" The woman screeched as she pulled the cage back, "I worked hard to get this bird, you're not eating it for dinner!"
"But birb!" The man replied, obliviously.
The owl hooted and shrieked, clearly displeased with the situation, and Flora watched the turmoil spin down the streets before quickening her pace.
It wasn't only the adults either. More than once, Flora glimpsed children of varying ages running amuck within the port town, including a ragged boy and girl chasing down a donkey.
How can anyone raise young'uns here?
The girl balked when she saw a tied up man being drawn out of a water well by rope, and was quick to leave the scene behind. Nothing she came up with could explain what the purpose of that was, and she didn't plan on stopping to ask why either.
Flora exhaled, shakily, trying to stay focused without losing what sanity she had left. She should ask for directions, but her boots quaked at the mere thought of it. Not only could any interactions with these people lead to disastrous results but her social skills had waned during her lost time at sea. Too much socializing with these deranged residents and she feared she would keel over. On the lawless isle of Tortuga, keeling over was the last thing she needed!
The young sailor leaned against a wall down an alleyway to gather her bearings. She about to straighten out and look for a tailor's shop-if any existed on this island-when she heard it.
"H-Help-!"
Flora paused. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, a cry for help managed to breach her ears.
"Shut it, scum! What did you do with it?!"
"I don't know-help!"
Flora turned in the direction of the cry, heart pumping with unease. The commotion was coming from further down the alleyway, leading to a surprisingly well-kept garden. She grazed the hilt of her sword, and before she knew it she was marching down the alley, searching for the source of the disturbance. It didn't take long for her to find it.
On the far side of the garden, nearly hidden by the shadow of a household eave, a sober man was cornered by a drunken scoundrel.
"Where is it?!" The blackguard snarled as he kicked the man in the knee. "Where's my money?!"
"I don' know!" The drunkard's prey brayed. "I swear it was in my pocket, but then it was gone! It's the truth, I swear-"
"LIAR!" The scoundrel delivered a nasty punch to the face, breaking the man's nose. "Ya spent it all on drink, didn't you?! Tell me the truth or I'll have yeer guts for garters!"
The man howled as his nose began to bleed, and Flora narrowed her eyes.
Leave it be, her inner-self affirmed in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Athair. This is not the time or place for sentiment. Turn around, and walk away.
Yet Flora found that she couldn't turn away. What if the man was innocent and was suffering for something he didn't commit or deserve? What if he was telling the truth?
Leave it be.
The injustice escalated, the scoundrel's beatings and threats growing more severe. His victim won't last much longer.
Flora glanced behind her. No one else took notice of the disturbance. No one was going to help…but I can.
Remember what Athair taught you! Her conscious insisted more aggressively. Life is cruel!
A trembling hand gripped her sword. It doesn't have to be.
Ignoring the instinct urging her to walk away, Flora strode toward the scene with determined yet frightened resolve. "E-excuse me."
The mannerly words went ignored, and Flora's gaze hardened. "Excuse me!"
The perpetrator swiveled in her direction, his face twisted with hate and intoxication. "Whatta' want, shrimp?"
Her eyes flashed at the insult. "What-" She hesitated, and then took a breath. "what-did this man do to wrong you?"
"That's none of your business!" The dastard snarled. "Go away, or you're next!"
Her stomach lurched. Leave now! Get away! Her unease ordered, and yet she didn't move.
The dastard's lips curled into vile smile. "Last chance, shrimp! Do ya want to get involved?"
Flora tightened her grip on her grandfather's sword. She glanced at the bloodied victim. He was shaking his head at her, silently begging her to stop and leave.
The girl turned back to the scoundrel, bracing herself. This is it. "Yes, I think I do."
The smile widened, and the dastard dropped his victim. "Big mistake!"
The blackguard drew his sword and Flora drew her own before they charged. The dastard sliced at Flora's head, but the teen ducked at the last second and parried a blow before delivering a sharp, unexpected kick to the shin. Her opponent yelped and flailed. For a moment it looked as though he was going to fall flat on his back, but then he pulled himself up and rushed at her with a snarl. Flora doubled over when the thrust struck her blade, and rolled out of the way before the man could swipe at her again and got back to her feet. After trading a few more blows, a memory jumped out at her. One of Athair's more recent lessons.
The girl suddenly grinned, and when the timing was right she performed a feint. The scoundrel fell for it and tripped over her leg, hurdling into the house beside them and cracking his head against its walls. The dastard slumped onto the ground and immediately started snoring in a drunken stupor. As quickly as it started, the duel was over.
Pain pulsed through Flora's leg and she quickly rubbed at it with bared teeth. How did Athair do that? She wondered before recalling her teacher's armored crab leg. The girl snorted and kept the weight off her now bruised limb. Her first official duel, and it was against a greedy landlubber drunk up his ass. A far cry from the first battle her younger, more naive self imagined. Least he fought well enough…
Flora sheathed her sword, just as the scoundrel's bloodied victim staggered over. "Th-thank ya for that, lad." He started before getting a better look at his savior. "Or…lassie? 'scuse me, my apologies."
A sly smirk crept up her face. "You alright?" She eyed the man's broken nose. "Ya need any help-?"
"No no! Is all good!" The man drew out a handkerchief and started wiping the blood away. "I'm used to it."
The statement made Flora pause and mull over the implication behind it. She shook her head, ultimately deciding that it didn't matter right now.
"Any-any way I can repay ya?" The man asked while she was lost in thought.
The teen stiffened. Another debt…"Well…" She considered the prospect. "Would ya be so kind as to direct me to a tailor's residence?" The words felt strange as they drifted off her tongue. It'd been so long since she spoke politely like that, she wasn't sure she liked it.
"Aye! I could do that!" The man wobbled toward the main street and nearly tripped over a cobblestone. Flora rushed over before he could fall over and carefully guided him out of the alleyway. "A-ahh, you didn't have to do that." The man said, "but much appreciated!"
Flora nodded with a small smile, only for it to fade when she glanced back down the alleyway.
A sword suddenly burst out of the gentleman's chest, and she leapt back and shrieked as the man choked on red before collapsing onto the street…
The dark memory dropped back into the pits of her mind when a smuggler suddenly hurdled out of a window above, crash landing next to them with a heavy THUD!
Flora gaped at the scene, surprised the smuggler was still alive as he got up and stumbled away. Oh bloody hell…"Is it always like this?"
"Nah, tonight's a special occasion!" Her companion answered as they limped down the street. "Tortuga's not all bad once ya get to know it."
"Hrmph!" Flora grunted, not convinced in the slightest. "What sort of occasion-"
"There you are!" Her companion interrupted as he pointed with an outstretched hand. "Callecutter's Tailor! That's what ya be looking for!"
Flora followed the man's gesture to a dreary looking building nearly hidden behind a riot of marauders crowding around nearby taverns. Isn't that lovely…
The girl sighed, thankful that the attention was drawn elsewhere at least. "Thank ya then-" She turned to her injured guide, only to find he had slipped from her grasp and wandered off somewhere into the crowd. Her stomach lurched and she quickly checked her belt. Her belongings were still in place, including her small pouch of money. She sighed with relief. Hopefully saving the man's hide convinced him not to steal from her, if he was gambling thief that is.
What if that's not the case? A cold thought hissed. What if he saw…?
The young sailor instinctively reached for her neck. The gills had folded back into scar-like wounds long ago, and taking the chaos of the township into account, there was no reason for anyone to suspect her true nature, much less notice.
Flora eased down. Now if he had noticed the gills and started spreading deceitful rumors, oh there will be hell to pay!
The teenager brought her attention back to the tailor's shop ahead, braced herself and then dove into the crowd as though diving into the sea; weaving in-between the bawdy residents like a stealthy snake or octopus. She ducked to avoid an incoming white ball, and leapt for the tailor's before any more debris could be thrown her at her head.
Flora stood up, panting a little, and triple-checked her belt. Satisfied that her belongings were still in place, she stepped into the shop.
"Cutter! There's someone at the door!" Callecutter jerked his head up at the sound of his wife's shrill voice, took a gander around, and then fell back asleep against the counter. "CUTTER! Get up, we've got a customer!" An obnoxious snore was his in response.
Flora halted in place, hidden perfectly within the shadows of the small, candlelit store. She should wake Cutter up so he could take measurements and decide what would fit her best, but the way the tailor held onto the half-empty rum bottle as he slept, and the sharp pitch of his wife upstairs made Flora reconsider. I'll have to do this meself then…
The teen crept through the store, staying as quiet as possible. A fresh, white cotton shirt and dark brown breeches were snatched up as soon as she found them her size, and a pair of black leather boots followed. Flora kept a firm grip on the newly acquired attire and continued her search. A shadowed silhouette caught her eye.
She whipped her head toward the uncanny figure, only to find a dark, blue-gray almost black coat hanging on display. Flora bristled at the unexpected scare and went for a closer look. The coat was surprisingly well kept with gold fringe around the cuffs and buttonholes, fit for someone of high stature in the Royal Navy.
Flora tilted her head, drawn to the fancy uniform. It was a little big, but she may yet grow into it. The dark coloring would also pose a problem under clear skies, and yet…
The young sailor cast a quick glance at the other coats on sale, and then checked the price of the black. Her heart sank. It was too expensive for her tiny purse; in fact, everything she picked out all together would cost at least twenty more pouches of the coin she had!
At least check if it will all fit first, Flora decided, grinding her teeth. Then…we'll see what happens.
With that, she snatched the coat from the display, picked out a few accessories and a matching gray-blue waistcoat, and then darted into the changing room. Once inside, she unbuttoned her ripped and sullied shirt and sighed fervently as she did away with the ragged attire that had stained her for a month. In the dim candlelight, Flora examined the lacerations etched onto her body like birthmarks. There was the long, hideous scar down her arm from the night the Barton settlement fell, a glimpse of the lash marks down her back from her failure during the first storm at sea, and all manner of sores and scrapes received from her cabin boy duties, Athair's training sessions, and her time lost at sea.
And of course, there was the new black mark sliced across her palm from when she made her new vow. It didn't look as ingrained as the other lacerations, but Flora had a feeling-no she knew-that it would not be healing properly anytime soon.
All of them gained within only a few years, and yet it felt like multiple lifetimes. How many more will I have when this is over? A massive weight settled onto her shoulders at the thought.
The teenager sighed, uncertainly, and went to untie the rags she had wrapped around her breasts. She paused, reconsidered, and then loosened the rags only a little before leaving them be. She didn't really need them anymore now that her secret was out, but old habits didn't die so easily.
With that, Flora began the tedious process of putting her chosen garb on. When she finished and looked into the mirror, she did a double take. Between the waistcoat, the black coat, the bright teal bandana covering the whole of her head, and the navy-blue scarf wrapped tightly around her neck shielding her gills, she looked like a completely different person.
The girl examined her reflection, tilting her head and trying different poses. No longer did she resemble a feral child lost in the wilds of the world. Now, she could almost pass for a well-dressed and respected captain! Almost, she reminded herself.
It wasn't the look of authority her new, regal appearance gave that took her off guard, however. Getting a closer look now, the younger sailor couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between her and Athair…
"CUTTER! Did you deal with the customer yet?!"
Flora jerked her head up, panic replacing speculation as footsteps echoed down from above. Bollocks!
There was no time for debating morals. Instinct shrouded the young sailor's mind as she gathered her former attire, and hastily made her way out of the shop. By the time Cutter rose up from his intoxicated sleep, his wife was standing behind him with folded arms and pursed lips. Aside from a single coin left on the counter, there was no sign of their mysterious client anywhere…
Flora wrapped part of her newly acquired scarf around the lower half of her face as she watched her previous garb burn.
Ye've finally done it. You've taken something that doesn't belong to you!
It took every fiber of her being not to give in to the guilt cracking through her like the lashing of the cat.
A petty thief, that's what you've become! Her mindset continued to berate venomously. Wretch! Scoundrel! Do you know what this means!?
It meant she had finally gone against her beliefs and integrity, and as a result her status as a fugitive had only strengthened further. Now she truly was no different from the plunderers around her.
I had no choice! The teenager squeezed her eyes shut and battled against the remorse coursing through her like poisonous tendrils. I didn't have enough! It was the only way.
She kicked at the smoldering pile of charcoal in front of her-all that remained of her former get up-until the fire was doused. She stood there in silence for sometime after, basking unwillingly in her new position in the world. How many more laws will she have break to get she wanted? How long will it be before she was officially declared a pirate?
No, it will never come to that. She may walk among them now, but she will never be one of them! I will not sink so low! She tried to convince herself, I will make sure of it!
The guilt still gnawed at her as though she were starving again, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. The young woman bristled and straightened her new coat. At least she was finally warm now, something good to come out of the theft. Warm, and a step closer to feeling like her true self...
Flora gritted her teeth and glanced behind her. Back at the streets of Tortuga, back at the chaos…She'd gotten her change of clothes, now she needed a proper meal and then….
Don't think about it yet! She insisted before the remorse got to her, and steeled herself up once more as she marched back out into the madness.
Flora was forced to duck over from another incoming white ball the moment she stepped back onto the streets. What the hell?!
The sailor lifted herself up when it was safe and scowled in the direction of the thrower-wherever they were-as she continued on her way. She had to find a tavern to get some refreshments now. The trouble was, there were so many taverns dotted across the port town that Flora had no idea where to start!
A bar droning piano music from within held promise, only for that possibility to be swept aside when two brawling drunkards fell on top of said piano, destroying it instantly. Another tavern had musicians playing a frantic version of 'Two Hornpipes', with a crowd dancing and cheering to the merry tune. It was appealing, but too cluttered and claustrophobic for Flora's liking, and she watched the dancers enviously before moving on.
As the young sailor searched for a proper cantina, a carriage nearby was forced to stop as a brigade of swashbucklers paraded through. The young coachman driving the carriage leaned back with a light-hearted sigh. "Nothin' like a night on Tortuga wouldn't you say?" He asked the passenger sitting beside him.
The passenger, a pale woman with black curly hair and wearing red garments, took a gander around her and then shrugged. "I've seen worse."
The coachman nodded politely, and then immediately did an about face. He was about to ask how in the world the woman could have seen worse when Flora approached the caravan. "If I may ask…" The teen gently soothed the horses when they grew nervous at her presence. "What's the special occasion for tonight's celebration?"
The coachman frowned at Flora's approach, but then brightened at her question. "First time in Tortuga then?" A nod confirmed his suspicions. "Thought so. Well tonight-" He gestured all across the town as though introducing an audience, "-this fine residence is celebrating its victory against Jolly Roger!"
The color washed away from Flora's face. "Victory…against…" She swiveled back at the town riot, just as another white ball hurdled toward another resident. Not white balls, she realized with dawning horror, skulls!
"Aye, the bugger tried to cut off the rum supply again." The woman answered in a rather dry tone, "but Captain Barbossa and his fleet ratted him off before 'e could even try."
"That's puttin' it lightly!" said the coachman, "Some of 'is bilge-sucking army made landfall, but they couldn't even make it past the port!"
That explains a lot, Flora thought as she inspected the surrounding partygoers with new eyes. It certainly explained how and why Tortuga evaded destruction when the other island couldn't, but for goodness' sake why did the residents have to play with the remains of Roger's cohorts like that.
"Hah! Is that what you heard?" The woman cackled at her companion, "Then why is he supposedly recruiting new crewmates right now? Not as one-sided a battle methinks if that's the case."
The coachman scowled, "How do you know? You weren't even there!"
As the duo bickered, a memory came back to Flora, and with it, an epiphany. "This Barbossa," she started. " Is he the captain of the Queen Ann's Revenge?"
"That he is!" The coachman eventually answered.
"And you say he is recruiting?"
"Supposedly." The woman said, "If yer' interested, best try the taverns over there." She gestured down the street behind them. "Last I heard, 'e was roaming around there."
The coachman rolled his eyes, "So you say." He turned ahead and his scowl brightened. "Cobblestones are free now!" He straightened himself and tipped his hat to Flora. "We'll be off then, lad! Fare thee well!"
The woman huffed, and with a quick flick of the coachman's reins, the duo set off towards who-knows-where.
Flora watched the carriage disappear down the road, her mind whirling. Captain Barbossa…she'd heard the name a few times. The rival of Jack Sparrow, said to have stolen Sparrow's property on more than one occasion, and rose to the rank of Pirate Lord after a scuffle with pirates who refused to follow the established code.
If Barbossa captained the Queen Anne's Revenge, with an entire fleet at his command, and he was recruiting after a successful victory against Jolly Roger, then he was exactly who Flora needed.
PIRATES! Her mind roared in defiance, and she almost had to cover her ears. If she threw her lot in with the likes of Hector Barbossa, who was said to shoot his own crew members dead for the slightest annoyance, then she might as well call herself a marauder as well!
I will not! The teenager reminded herself. No matter what!
Flora huffed and straightened her coat. She peered down the street where coachman said Barbossa might be skulking about. This was her best shot at joining the war against Roger, whither she liked it or not.
The girl bit her lip and made her way down the street, searching for the most probable tavern Sparrow's rival would take residence. In the end, the search took her to one of the larger and quieter cantinas of Tortuga known as the Faithful Bride.
The barmaid glared at the sight before her and tapped her foot rather viciously. "Thank you very much for that!" she yelled at the clearly drunk residents splayed out across the tavern floor like dead fish, "Do you realize how long it took to find and repair the last one?!" She pointed at the shattered chandelier in the center of the drunken pile. "Clean that up before someone gets hurt! I'm not taking responsibility for that!"
The intoxicated occupants slowly rose back up feet with many defiant groans, and the barmaid stomped her way upstairs with a hand on her temple. "Mummy's going to kill me for this…" She moaned as she disappeared behind a doorway on the second floor, just as Flora entered the tavern from the first.
The teen gawked at the unsavory sight before fitting the pieces together. Clearly, the reason why this tavern was quieter than the others was because a party had already occurred, only to be silenced by the destruction of the expensive looking chandelier at the center of the hold. Now the residents in charge of the broken specimen were back on their feet and cleaning up their mess, while the musicians went back to playing in the background and the party resumed its course, albeit much calmer than it was before.
Flora took a gander around. There didn't appear to be anyone recruiting here, maybe she'd chosen the wrong bar. She was considering leaving when her stomach suddenly growled. The girl paused, and then sighed. She might as well get a proper meal while she was still here. It was better than any of the options behind her at least.
The teen flowed inside like a living shadow, and took a seat at one of the tables further away from the crowd. She sat there for some time, lost in thought before a barmaid approached her. "What'll it be?"
Flora hesitated, "The…the usual, I suppose."
The barmaid held out her hand, absently, and Flora stared before realizing what it meant. "Ah." She pulled out her small pouch of money. "Will this suffice?"
The maid opened the pouch and counted the coin inside. "The perfect amount!" She said. "I'll be right back then."
The waitress strode off, and Flora's heart sank. There goes the only bit of money she had.
You made the right choice back at the tailor's, then. Her inner-self tried to assure her, but it didn't make her feel any better.
Flora rested her arms across the table, the commotion of the Faithful Bride echoing listlessly through her head as she mulled over her thoughts. Ya don't even know if this Barbossa will take further part in the war! One part of her growled; it's a lost cause!
But what if 'e is? Another part argued, then this is my only chance!
The young sailor sighed, miserable and uncertain.
"Whatever happened to ol' Adolini?" asked a corsair sitting at the table behind her. "Haven't 'eard from him in ages."
Flora paused and leaned in to the conversation. "Adolini? Ya mean Raphael?" The man sitting ahead of the pirate inquired, "Last I heard, 'e and his crew sacked a church for gold. Headed for the Guinea Coast to repay their sins, never came back." The man shrugged, "guess they couldn't repent, ey?"
"Oh." The pirate said. "That's a crying shame."
The marauder went back to his cups, and Flora tilted her head, intrigued. She'd heard too many stories like this, smugglers stealing treasure and either disappearing or paying hefty consequences as a result. Even after all she's seen and gone through, such tales still captivated her and ran her imagination wild.
The world isn't as small as some believe. The girl smiled grimly and turned back to her table.
Someone was sitting across from her.
Flora's blood ran cold. "Heh. Apologizes for the scare, señorita." The man chittered in a faint Spanish accent, "I couldn't help but notice you sitting all alone over here."
The words made Flora want to stand up and bolt, but before she could the barmaid returned, carrying two plates of food on her tray instead of one. "Ahh, thank you misses!" The man tossed a coin once the plates were set, which the maid accepted graciously before leaving. Flora glowered as the man took off his dark feathered cap. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, bearing dirt-streaked olive skin, long black hair, and a ruddy brown-orange coat with white and gold fringe that might have been pleasant to look at, had it not also been covered in muck as well.
Everything about him screamed pirate.
The young sailor continued to glare, too tense to move or lower her guard. "May I inquire as who the hell you are?"
"Riley Beaudrick," The pirate smirked, gold teeth glittering like molten metal in the candlelight. "Captain of the Wolf's Nail, at your service."
The Wolf's Nail…she'd never heard of it. "What do you want?"
"Just wonderin' what a young, able-bodied lass like you is sitting all the way over here and wondering if you wanted company."
Flora adjusted her scarf, wondering how he figured out her gender so easily. "Come now, there's no reason to be so nervous." Captain Beaudrick insisted as he grabbed hold of the chicken leg on his plate. "I just wanna talk. Go on, you look hungry, we can talk and eat at the same time."
She didn't trust this, not one bit; she should get up and leave right now! Yet despite the obvious skepticism and Beaudrick's calm, tongue-and-cheek manner, she didn't detect any malice in his intentions, and there was no unease shrouding her instincts. She gazed at her own plate of food. It was the same as Beaudrick's: a helping of chicken, bread and potatoes with a pint on the side. A genuine meal, after so long…. Saliva threatened to pour out from her lips, and she quickly straightened out before casting another suspicious glare at the pirate captain.
"It's not poisoned if that's what you're wondering." Riley sneered. "Go ahead, eat."
Flora gave a hoarse 'hrmph!' Fine…I'll listen to what he has to say.
She took the chicken first and ripped into it, relishing the taste of real food as it dribbled down her throat before speaking. "What is the Wolf's Nail?"
"My ship," Riley set his meal to the side and clasped his fingers together, covering half of his face. "She is in terrible need of more crew."
The potatoes followed once all the chicken was devoured. "Apologizes, but I have another vessel and crew to join in mind." Flora said rather rudely as she ate.
"Ya mean Hector Barbossa and the Revenge?" Riley's lip twitched. "He's got plenty enough whereas I have none." He shrugged then, "It's up to you, think it over. There's another ship I have business with either way."
Flora shoved the bread into her mouth. "Which ship?"
"I be going after the Crimson Dragon."
The teen paused as she swallowed the rest of her meal down. The Crimson Dragon…it was another one she hadn't heard of, yet the name oddly struck a cord with her. "I've never 'eard of it."
"Heh, of course not." Riley smiled. "Her birth is a rather long and obscure story."
Flora narrowed her eyes as she took the words in. "And what sort of business do you have with this Dragon?" She took a drink for her pint and nearly spat the liquid out. "Argh! What in the-?!"
The teen peered into her cup as a sweet, honey-like aftertaste simmered in her mouth and throat. "Haven't tasted rum before, have you?" Riley laughed, "You're in for a treat then!"
Rum, the infamous drink so beloved by pirates, even normal landlubbers enjoyed its addicting taste. Milo's favorite as well.
Flora examined her pint. It really didn't taste as bad as she'd thought. In fact it was rather delicious! "I sincerely hope you're right, Master Beaudrick."
Ignoring the instinct warning her to stop, the teen leaned back and drank up the remainder of her pint whole.
"Alll the way around the world!" Flora slurred as she waved her fourth pint of rum back and forth. "All the trades and foods and elephants, and no sign of Mum or Dad anywhere! Instead I get treated like a bastard, can ya imagine that!"
Riley grinned in both amusement and impatience. "Ye've sailed around half-the world then?"
"Weeeeeeee…" The sailor twirled her finger around, and Riley bit back a roar of laughter. "What an adventure you've been on then!" The Captain of the Wolf's Nail nodded to the shadows behind them. "Are ya up for a little more then?"
"The hell I am!" The clearly drunk teen stood up, spilling her drink all over. "No more adventure! I wanna go to war!" Sweat poured from her beat-red forehead as she hollered. "Gotta make Jolly Roger pay! Vengeance is what it's all about! A sad life! It hurts I tell ya, but it's great!" Flora laughed maniacally as she continued to spout. "Gonna lead that sad life 'til I get what I want! Gonna get my bloody revenge, write my songs, impress Athair, and live happily-"
There was a pause, Riley knew what was coming, "-ever-" Flora performed a dramatic twirl that was nauseating to watch, "-AFTER!"
The teen went to bow, only to collapse headfirst onto the floor and start snoring in an intoxicated slumber. "There goes another one!" Someone cheered, and all the residents of the Faithful Bride raised their bottles and pints in celebration.
Captain Riley Beaudrick decided not to join them. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and stood up. "Well, that was easier than I thought." He straightened the cuffs of his shirt. "The pan wasn't needed after all."
The shadowy figure behind the snoring Flora placed the frying pan he'd been holding aside, and walked into the candlelight. "Glad of that," he said. "Wouldn't sit right with me to bash a kid's head in."
"I know you, Eric." Riley gave a sideways smile, "you would have loved to."
Eric shrugged, precariously, and leered down at the unconscious teenager. "Think she's the one that priestess spoke about?"
"I'm certain."
"Awfully scrawny if ya ask me." Eric frowned, "I dunno about this."
"She's the one, Eric. The description fits perfectly, and she blubbered it all out to me." Riley placed his feathered hat back on his head and smoothed out his coat. "Bring her aboard with the others, and prepare to cast off."
PHEW! About time I finally get another chapter done! Once again, I am sincerely sorry for taking so long updating this story. These next number of chapters may be hard to get through because I never fully planned them out. Sadly, they are needed in order to get to the ending, so please bear with me. I also apologize for the drunkenness warning. I'm sure most readers here have read worse, but I felt the need to put it up just in case.
Anyway, Flora really made an ass of herself at the end there, and now she's going to be shanghaied into a pirate's crew! She was so close to joining Barbossa too! (thank goodness she didn't because I have no idea how to write his character). I put in a few more fun cameos and easter eggs here, if you know what the incident involving Raphael Adolini was about, without looking it up, then you get a cookie.