Pirates of the Carte Seas - Chapter 4 | Drownings & Deceptions
There is a crowd gathered, nobility, dressed in silks and cottons, navy-men with their fancy uniforms. Somehow, it makes her throat feel tighter. She doesn't care to be here. It isn't as though she is nervous, simply uncomfortable. Frustrated even.
She tries to feign interest as her father takes the sword and its gold-covered scabbard from the presentation case held by one of the navy men - Luftar, was it? He stands as stoically and emotionlessly as ever. Of course, this is a serious occasion, but that doesn't necessitate it being so lifeless, does it? As Governor Vermillion slips the sword back into its scabbard - a needlessly ornamental thing, really, for something that was only meant to kill - her gaze can't help but falter, slipping back down to the fan she'd taken for the occasion.
Fire lilies printed on fine, lacy fabric. Her mother's favourite. She had figured it might make this nonsense easier to stand through.
As her father reaches the sword out, vertically, in front of Augustus, she finds that it didn't actually help. Try as she might, she couldn't think back to anything that man had done that would make him more deserving of this promotion than any one of the other men.
They don't share this observation of course. Smugly, her distant relative grabs the scabbard above her father's hand, which the elder lord promptly releases. She has the distinct, uncomfortable impression of him staring at her expectantly. Augustus pulls the sword out, with a clumsy flourish and snaps the blade towards his face, very nearly cutting himself, she is sure. Honestly, it was more surprising that he hadn't cut himself yet. Her father steps forward - face unreadable (she wonders if he's about as keen about the promotion as she is, realising the stupid politics of the Kiras being as powerful as they are - he probably doesn't have much of a choice - and tries not to visibly frown. Tries.) - pinning a medal onto the Kira heir's jacket, before reversing, perhaps a little too quickly.
Augustus nods, turns and - looking like the cat that got the cream - nods over to his fellow officers. Their expressions are neutral. Some perhaps supportive, most likely frustrated and jealous. 'At least they had some semblance of a chance...' she couldn't help but think to herself bitterly. Kira then nods to the gathered noble audience - merchants, dignitaries - and with another spin, he puts the sword back into its scabbard.
A loud - socially obligated - applause resounds through Fort Lumiere. Reluctantly, she claps along. Congratulations could be heard from the other navy men - perhaps attempts to get into a new top dogs good graces -, hand shakes. Augustus seems almost repulsed by any physical contact, as if he's touching something slimy, every time he shakes someone's hand, or has his shoulder patted. He doesn't even appear to try and hide, but then... there is really no need. Nevertheless, he holds himself tall, enjoying having the attention and praise, however fake it may be.
The sun beating down on them doesn't normally bother her - she'd always been a creature of warmth -, but today it feels particularly hot, and despite the corset feeling loose, it feels as though she's suffocating. Augustus looking back to her every now and again doesn't exactly help.
Food poisoning? She'd barely had time for food. Maybe it was hunger? An illness?
Nevertheless, she tried to remain as composed as possible.
If at least she could distract herself, somehow -
She fans herself some more, perhaps it's the still air. She'd kill for a breeze.
"Lady Mereoleona!" a shrill voice exclaims. Augustus appears before her, and, looking down, she notices that his hand is extended towards her. He looks sweaty, perhaps because of the sun, or nerves. In fairness, she's not in the best state herself, but it only makes her recoil further into herself on the inside. Nevertheless, she takes it, the other hand still fanning herself, this time, more rapidly. It doesn't help any. She finds herself being taken away from the party - honestly, that is probably for the best - towards the parapet. The awkward silence isn't one Mereoleona cares to break.
"You look stunning, Mereoleona," he blurts out. Considering she was in layers of fancy material, she'd better. "Hadn't thought you had this side to you..."
What side...? Irritation bubbled up inside her.
Augustus cleared his throat, looking all the more nervous. Had she showed her annoyance in some way? Something stabbed at her stomach. She feels dizzy. Perhaps she ought to-
"Looking at you now, I am surprised a fine woman like yourself is yet to be married." If he'd assumed that this would improve her mood in some way, then he'd assumed wrong. "And now that I have achieved my career goals through this promotion, I have come to realise there is one more goal left to achieve. Marriage. To a fine woman..."
If he'd said anything else, the words slowly faded into silence, as she wobbled a little, finding herself growing weak, her surroundings fading from view. "I need to sit down..." she mumbled, leaning back against the wall, and then shakily propping herself up onto it, wanting as much space as she could get from him. The last thing she cared about is marriage right now. A bucket would be more useful. God, she felt like vomiting-
"I understand an impressive offer as this must be a lot to take in-"
- it feels like her stomach is floating in nothingness -
Fuck. This was not how she'd wanted to go.
"Mereoleona!" her father's voice calls out to her, and then she feels something cold against her skin. Fluid. Powerful. The usually calm seas seem to have grown wild.
Meanwhile, at the navy dock, two young sailors are on sentry duty, their hair - one dark haired, the other fair haired - unruly and their uniform crumpled. They have an immature aura about them that betrays part of the reason why they hadn't been invited to the ceremony. They stick to the shade, none too keen to sacrifice their pale skins in the sun. Especially not with the dark haired one's forehead scar. Yet, as a stranger saunters up to them, their job obliges them to step outside the comfort zone and be alert.
"This dock's off limits to civilians!" the taller, dark haired one exclaims.
"My bad," Captain Yami Sukehiro responds nonchalantly, even bored.
Festive sounds of instruments being played by the band at Fort Lumiere reach their ears. Yami smirks ever so slightly, as he shields his eyes from the sun and looks up towards the source of the sound. The elder sentry seems to tense up, perhaps unsettled by his carelessness.
"A party at the fort, huh? Guessin' you two weren't invited?"
The ravenette narrows his eyes at the pirate. "Someone has to make sure this dock remains off limits to civilians," he insisted.
"Must be some important boat," Yami lazily gestures his hand towards the ship on his right.
"Ship," the fair haired one corrected, and the captain notices he hasn't stopped grinning since he'd first sighted him. Well, if that wasn't creepy as fuck.
"Ship," Yami was more amused than anything. This would be easier than he'd thought.
"Captain Kira made it his flagship. He's going to use to hunt down every last pirate in the Carte Seas," the ravanette said with pride not his own. Big ambitions this Kira guy had. More powerful men had tried though. It would be amusing to watch the navy bastard fail... from a ship to call his own, preferably.
"Commodore," the blonde corrected his colleague.
"Commodore Kira, right," the ravanette huffed.
"A fine goal," Yami nods, disingenuous, "but I'm thinking a ship like that one," he gestures towards "Integrity" standing proudly beside it, "makes this one a bit... unnecessary?"
"Well, yeah, but for all the power Integrity has, it's got nothing on Faith when it comes to speed," the ravanette insisted.
Yami hums, entertained by their stubbornness. They have chosen the wrong profession in his opinion. They might've fared better as part of his crew with all that bull-headedness. "That so, huh? Well, I've heard of one; supposed to be fast. Uncatchable even. The Black Bull."
The blond rolls his eyes at the name and laughs. "Hah, there's no way a real ship can match Faith."
"The Black Bull is a real ship," his entertainment falters, turning into annoyance. Was this one dumb or just stupid or something?
"Yeah it is. I've seen it!" the ravanette exclaimed, surprising Yami, who raised a brow.
"Seriously, Magna?" The blond turned to his colleague.
"You've seen the Black Bull?" the blond seemed almost intrigued. Excited even. He had every reason to be.
"No, you haven't!" In fairness, "Magna" didn't seem to be giving any additional details, so there was plenty reason to think he was lying. Chances were he was making it up to look cooler, or something.
With a mixture of impatience, scepticism, and still that creepy ass smile (albeit more terse), the blond clarified: "so... you've seen a ship with black sails that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so dark that hell itself spat him back out?"
"But, I've seen a ship with black sails," Magna insisted.
"Yeah? No ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails and so there's no way it could be any other ship than the Black Bull?" That's what you're telling me, Magna?" Luck challenged.
"So, like I said, there's not real ship- hey-!"
Meanwhile, Yami couldn't help but think about all the celebratory sake he would be having for a ship so easily stolen, as he inspected the wheel of Faith, standing on its pristine deck. Oh, yeah, this was definitely much nicer than the Stubborn Bull, he decided.
"You!" the blond exclaimed, which Yami responded to with a mocking raising of his eyebrows, as if shocked to be caught. Leaping into action, the shorter sentry rushed towards the gangplank, followed by an equally determined Magna. "Unless you plan on fighting me, you better get down from there - you're not supposed to board Faith without permission!"
Yami spreads out his hand in faux apology. "Sorry 'bout that. I just... couldn't help myself with such an impressive... boat -" he could see Magna's eye twitch -" ship."
Apparently they didn't see so dumb to immediately fall for it.
"What's your name?" Magna asked.
"Well, what are you doing in Port Raquey, Mr Smith?" Luck's smile twitched, and he seemed ready to pull out his sword. Blood thirsty little shrimp. Well, he could respect that, if nothing else.
"And no lies!" Magna added.
It was fast becoming apparent those two had likely never met a pirate.
"None? Alright then," Yami huffed. "Guess the gig's up. You got me. I plan on commandeering one of these ships, pick up a crew on Diamond Island, and then do some honest pirating," his eyes lit up a little, noticing the disbelief and doubt in the eyes of the two sentries.
Magna continued to glare. "I said no lies."
"... I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth, actually," Luck remarked.
"He's not telling the truth."
"But he could be," the blonds hand grabbed the handle of his sword.
"No way - if he were a pirate, he'd never tell us he was a pirate." Well, that was how it normally went, but...
"... Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth if he told you," Yami interjected.
Magna and Luck look among themselves, considering his words. All true, of course... he didn't bother wasting energy where it didn't need wasting. And, besides, watching them figure it out was free entertainment. Almost better than Diamond Island's finest booze and women.
A loud exclamation interrupts -
Yami whips around, pushing past Magna to see the commotion.
A splash breaks the commotion at the port as everyone's attention is now on the sea. Someone had fallen in - woman, probably a fancy one, right off a cliff. If that wasn't going to kill her, chances were the waters might do. The men at the port, and those at the fort both seem panicked, fumbling. She'd narrowly missed a sharp rock, but with the restless waves, she might not be long from hitting one, losing consciousness (if she hasn't already) and drowning in the waters. Of course, that would work just fine for him, but -
"The rocks, sir - she's lucky to have missed them!" a voice exclaimed from the Fort, and Governor Vermillion pushed past him, ready to jump for his daughter, only to get pulled back by the lieutenant. He pries his arm off, not about to waste any time, as he runs down, skipping steps and tries to get to port as fast as possible.
- Yami turns to the sentries. "You're not gonna save her?"
"I can't swim," Magna confesses.
Yami rolls his eyes. "Sailors."
He can tell help is far off, and the sentries are useless. He doesn't fancy helping some posh, rich lass. However, the image of one such high born lass crosses his mind, and he - with much annoyance - realises that he can't quite let her drown. "Fine." Pissed off, he hands his gun from his sword belt to Magna, and then the belt to Luck. "Don't lose these unless you fancy losing your heads," he growled threateningly, which seemed to do the trick (at least with Magna), and then dives into the water.
He'd swam in worse conditions.
Soon enough, he's gotten to where the lady had sunk, having frustratingly enough already lost consciousness. He doesn't pay enough attention to note the medallion around her neck, which had now slipped from under her bodice, glittering under the water refracted sun.
