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@darrencavanaugh-blog
Discussion? I thought we were simply flirting with each other…
but I won’t say no to another drink. Surprise me, I usually only have wine.
It was just a phrase, love.
Wine? That’ll never do. Whiskey is the key to a good time. It even has the word in its name.
“Is that some subtle way of saying you have an axe to grind with me? How I’ve won that honour over our hard-headed friends, I’ll never know.”
“Are you telling me that a man who slit his captain’s throat doesn’t care for a little more bloodshed? Then I’ll gladly take those instruments off of your hands, because at least one of us has to deal with these imbeciles properly.”
“Oh, Celine, Celine, Celine... your mind does work in mysterious ways, love.”
“How you love to twist my words about. Would you rather I draw my sword against you and dull it with a pointless duel, or that I save it for those deserving of its bite?”
The man Serena had approached was dark-haired and bright-eyed, and while there was no denying that he was handsome—exceptionally so—there was no denying that he seemed rather dangerous as well. There was just something about him…perhaps it was the coarse stubble that lined his sharply-defined jaw, or the lean tautness of his frame that moved with an almost predator-like grace, but Serena definitely couldn’t recall having seen him at her tavern before—she would have definitely remembered a face like his.
She also would have remembered just how rude he was.
When he took her by her dainty shoulders and urged her away from him before insinuating that he had no interest in fucking her, Serena’s eyes grew wide, and her lips parted on an indignant little gasp. Her cheeks flushed with rosy heat, not out of embarrassment or anything of the sort, but rather due to the very same indignation from before. Oh, he—how dare he!
With an incredulous huff, Serena placed one of her slim hands on her hips and arched her eyebrows in disbelief, the bet from earlier put aside for the time being in favor of dealing with the man whose mouth she was halfway to washing out with soap. “I’m sorry, but I’m fairly certain I didn’t mention anything in regards to fucking,” she stressed, her voice high and clear and concise. “I asked you to dance with me, and only because that man over there—“ At this, she pointed over her shoulder to the bartender who was watching them with a half-curious, half-amused expression on his face. “—bet me a brand new stage that I couldn’t steal your wallet and get away with it. Oh, and—don’t even start on that. I was going to give it back as soon as I took it. But the point is—“ Pausing once more, she stepped towards him, and she gave his chest a very firm poke with one of her tiny fingers. “—you shouldn’t just be assuming that women want to sleep with you after all they’ve done is ask you to dance. It tends to make them think that the only thing that’s big and impressive about you is your inflated ego.”
Darren laughed, something that he did more than some may have thought. It wasn’t what one would call a “happy” or “humoured” laugh, however. It was cold, emotionless, and seemed to come from the darkest corner of his soul. The angrier she seemed to become, the more amused he grew, and the worse his laugh became. He was keeping it quiet for now, but he didn’t exactly care who heard him and what they thought of him. She could become as huffy as she wanted, but it was next to impossible for him to take her seriously at this point. Seeing her angry was just, well... it was funny. If she had ever so much as smashed a mosquito or gnat, he would adopt a hook for a hand.
“Maybe not with you words, mon cher,” he replied. “But someone the likes of you knows all about body language, no?” No one ever did something accidentally. If he had thought that she was coming onto him, it was because she had been. He wasn’t the type to see sexual attraction or teasing if it wasn’t there. She’d made eye contact, swung her hips, and invaded his personal space. Everything about her approach was supposed to make him want her.
Glaring down at her hand as she jabbed him rather forcefully, he spared not a second more in grabbing it in his. “I don’t assume anything, and you would do well to do the same. Unlike you, I look at facts and evidence -- I observe -- and I draw logical conclusions.” With a quick wink, he leaned down and pressed a quick peck to the back of her hand. “Pleasure meeting you, though, mon cher. Try to keep your blood pressure low.”
Shadow in the Night || Darren & Crowe
When it came to making his own decisions, Crowe had no planning eighty-five percent of the time. He just did what he wanted or what felt good and went from there. There wasn’t a whole lot of higher reasoning or thought, unless he was attempting to pull a long con. Those times accounted for the other fifteen percent of his time spent on his own devices. Right now? It wasn’t the smaller of the two percentages, and he was back on the Poseidon’s Rift without much thought as to why. Maybe he had been planning on doing something when he got here? Seeing as how there were no women on board currently, he couldn’t imagine what that would be. Since Darren liked to keep the ship out at sea more often than not, shore leave was a welcome and exciting thing. Especially for someone like Crowe, who didn’t necessarily hold the same view of being out on the waters. Many pirates craved it; needed it. He just needed a way to make some money and keep occuped.
Darren helped with that. As a rigger, there was a constant physical demand, and being exhausted was good for Crowe. Like a dog with too much energy, he got a little unpredictable when he had too much time on his hands. Now that they were all but stuck in Ronsanella, Crowe was getting to be a little unpredictable.
He liked his captain. The man was good at what he did and he wasn’t overly annoying to listen to. But, then, Crowe could have just as easily worked on just about any ship that came his way. His job wasn’t overly specific to pirating and his sense of duty or honor was skewed to the point that anyone that would hire him would likely make a fine boss. He wasn’t picky. But it was the familiar voice of his captain he heard as he stood on deck and not that of someone else that would offer him a job. Turning to face the man, he flashed a smile. Again, to what did he owe the pleasure? He still had no rhyme or reason to returning to the Rift, except that his brother wasn’t here. If his brother wasn’t here, he didn’t have to feel guilty about all his shortcomings. With a shrug, he glanced around at the vessel. It seemed quiet; empty. Most of the crew were probably back in town somewhere; finding drink and game and women. Exciting, but it was losing it’s edge for Crowe at the moment. He needed something that offered a little more interest and a little more challenge. Pirate wasn’t his only profession, after all. He was, first and foremost, a con man. What good was a confidence man without a con to pull? Next time he went ashore, maybe he’d find himself a nice little situation to work himself into. Something that would be fun and promise some pay out at the end.
“Bet you’re excited to see me,” Crowe replied with a nod. He doubted the man actually cared. (He should have, though. Crowe was pretty special, if he did say so himself.) “Just making sure she’s in one piece and all.” He nodded to the sails that had be furled while he was on shore. “Storms can cause problems with the rigging and all.” Did he care about the sails? Not in so serious a manner that it’d draw him back to the boat. Enough that he would have been irritated if he let them get dilapidated to the point that they’d be nearly impossible to fix when they finally did want to leave shore. But to leave the comfort of a warm bed and the company of others? Hardly. It was a believable lie though, and if there was one thing Crowe did well, it was make a lie believable.
Darren let his head swing down and around to shoot an incredulous look at his crewman. He’d known Richardson for years now, but sometimes even he couldn’t be sure if the man was just pulling his leg or not. Most of the time, he just assumed that the man was having a go at him and let it go. For as troublesome as he could be at times, he had yet to cause any severe commotion upon Poseidon’s Rift and so Darren just tended to let him about his business. All Darren asked of Richardson -- all he asked of any of the men on his ships -- was that he do his damned job, that he do it right, and that he didn’t take a year to do it.
“Look at me -- I’m practically leaping from joy,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow and sardonic smirk. Still, it was nice that at least one of his crew gave half a damn about Poseidon’s Rift. Not that Darren was about to admit that (and certainly not out loud for Christ’s sake).
A strong wind gusted past them, bringing with it the smells of salt from the water and ozone from the lightning. The storm didn’t seem to be coming any closer to shore, for which Darren felt a small glimmer of thanks. The last thing he needed was for the fucking fish to bring their storms closer to land and to dash all the ships they could upon the rocks that lined the coast. Luckily for him and the other pirates, the merfolk seemed to actually give half a damn about the “innocents” on the waters. Their unwillingness and inability to do what was necessary to rid themselves of their enemies would surely be their downfall. Darren didn’t give a damn what happened to them. As of yet they hadn’t personally slighted him and so he wasn’t going to waste his time or energies on their extermination.
“Good. Don’t let me disturb you from that, then,” he said stiffly, turning away from the rigger. As good as it was that someone beside himself cared enough about the ship to check up on her while they were land-locked, he wasn’t exactly looking for “buddy-buddy” time.
“Really, Darren? We’re swimming up shit creek and you pick this as an opportune time to sass me? Does anything other than your tongue have an edge to it?”
"You know as well as I do that a sword without a whetstone will dull. I consider you my whetstone.”
“But since you asked, I have many sharply-edged implements. I just don’t care to clash them at every single opportunity, like some people do.”
“Oh for God’s sake! Who is the bloody hell is responsible for this? Where are the others?”
“Screeching isn’t going to make anything better.”
Participatory Ribbon || Darren & Open
There was this concept -- apparently, it wasn’t a well-known concept, and that confused Darren more than just about anything else. It wasn’t a difficult concept, but it seemed like a minuscule number of people in the world (especially his peers), were capable of grasping it. The concept truly wasn’t that difficult. It was called thinking. All a person had to do was pause and let their mind roam over what it was they were thinking of doing and what the consequences would be. It hardly took any time at all, really, and was always worth it. Few things went to shit simply because a person stopped and thought. Usually, if things were going to be fucked, it was because of a lack of thought. For example, Barrett taking the mer Princess hostage and these fucking rogues attacking a village right by the fucking castle of Ronsanella’s monarch. Like... seriously? Fucking Christ.
When he’d first been alerted to the battle that was brewing and the bloodshed that was about to occur, he had laughed it off as a poorly-timed prank. Even Barrett had more sense than to perform a solitary raid on the village right next to the fucking monarch of all of Ronsanella. Basically, he knew that none of his fellow Lords would have commanded it -- they worked together; they had sworn oaths and agreed upon codes together -- there was no way just one of them would take a couple of ships and launch such a pointless attack. Not even the most bloodthirsty of them would do this. That was why he hadn’t taken it seriously when he’d first heard the news. It was just misinformation to set the population of the Kingdom even more against the pirates as a whole. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of a band of rogue pirates, who followed no code and obeyed no Lord, as the instigators of this whole affair. Once he’d learned, once he’d realised, then the phrase “seeing red” suddenly made sense. Darren had been livid and had nearly eviscerated the poor bloke who had been charged with breaking the news to the Lord.
After all, they’d just finally gotten back on the sea and bullshit like this had to happen?
Darren had roared to his crew to continue about their jobs and left his first mate in charge while he stormed to his private cabin and let out his rage in a controlled settings. Control. That was what he needed now, most of all. He couldn’t lose his head in front of his crew. He couldn’t literally shoot the blasted messenger, as much as he wanted to. However, what he could do was bury an axe (or a cutlass) in the face of the fucking imbeciles who had put them in such a situation. The village was rising up and the merfolk were finally deciding to make good on all their pitiful threats to wipe out the pirates. They were being attacked on both sides now. Darren could keep his ship out on the sea and refuse to partake in the bloodshed, but he did have some morals, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t going to abandon the closest things to “friends” he’d ever had.
And so here he was, wandering the streets and staring at the mayhem. His sword was drawn, and while it should have made him a target, most people eyes him warily and refused to engage. Well, that was fine by him. However, his luck wasn’t to last (obviously). A tell-tale whistle cut through the air and he spun to the side just in time to see the sun glint off of a blade.
“My god, man, I’m right in front of you and you can’t hit me?” he spat in disgust.
You, love, are too sober to be having this discussion with me. Why not partake in a little more gin, eh? Or whatever your poison is.
I’ll give you four guesses. If you can’t figure out who exactly I’m referring to I think I might just up and leave you imbeciles to fend for yourselves. And once the two kingdoms have finished executing your dumb asses, I’ll come back and say ‘I goddamn told you so’ to your swinging corpses. Yeah, I’m a real ray of sunshine today.
And where the hell have you been Cavanaugh? You’ve been entirely useful these past few months.
Well, using my very logical brain and the things I’ve heard through the so-called grapevine, I’d have to say you’re still pissing about your little spat with Barrett. Congratulations, by the way, for finally seeing him as I always have.
Where have I been? If anyone really cared to have me around, they know how to find me.
“H-Hold on a moment...”
"I’m not lying." She shrunk back slightly in the presence of the intimidating pirate lord. "I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, sir, but I didn’t do it. At least, I’m sure I didn’t."
“Actually, I wasn’t accusing you of anything at all. I was just messing around. You’d be surprised the things people have confessed to me after I give them a withering glare and some harsh-sounding words.”
“But seriously, what are you doing in these parts looking so terrified for?”
“Well, when you are mad, you must scream to Mary herself. Trust me, I have heard what you can do. I will stick to making you agitated at best, Sir.”
“No, it wasn’t hard. I just never really needed to speak like that to someone.”
“A smart one, you are, then. I think I might like you, given time.”
“Well, if you’re planning on staying a pirate long, you’ll need to get used to it. I would recommend sooner rather than later.”
"What I thought, sir, was that finding my way back into the ocean and returning to my family was worth absolutely any risk that I might stumble upon in the process. I…failing to do so wasn’t something that I took into consideration.”
"Don’t you dare insinuate that Captain Barrett and I have anything in common. He…the last thing that we are is perfect for one another. The only thing he wants to do with me is kill me and sell my tail on the black market—something that he’s made exceptionally clear. Who…who even are you, anyway? Why are you talking to me? Did he send you here to watch over me?”
“Wait, you’re trying to tell me that attempting escape was worth some grand risk, but you didn’t think about the single most important risk of all, which was the risk of getting caught? And now that you have been caught, which you didn’t think was important enough to even slightly consider, you’re going to whinge and bitch about it like a petulant child?”
“That makes you exactly the female merfolk-equivalent of Barrett. My God, you two couldn’t be any more alike.”
“And no, love. For someone who has spent so much... quality time with my favourite fellow-Pirate, you know absolutely nothing about him. He’s not going to kill you just to sell your bits for some extra coin. He’s not that merciful. It’s one of the things I like about him, actually.”
If I catch any of you boys even remotely close to my ship right now, I’ll nail your pencil dicks to my fucking mantle. Have I made myself clear?
Honestly, your collective idiocy will be the death of me.
Aren’t you in a cheerful mood today, love. Which of my male comrades have got you in such a tizzy?
“You want something, or are you just going to stare?”
“Who says I’m staring at you, mate?”
“Maybe I’m just looking for a good time.”
"And I know the scariest part is letting go, cause love is a ghost you can’t control." - Words, The.
“H-Hold on a moment...”
“It’s not my fault. I didn’t….I didn’t do this.”
“Are you sure you want to be lying to me, little girl?”
