[alicebaudin-blog]

     Alice held her breath as Delmar started to clean the bleeding gash on her side, her fingers curled into fists but the pain was bearable.  It only made her anger towards the Rogues that plagued the Kingdom’s streets burn hotter, their still-beating hearts driving Alice to murderous intent upon those that would see her kind hung for acts not of their doing. Slowly, her attention refocused on the man and his words, calm anchoring her to safer harbors. No one was coming around the corner, the world eerily quiet in the aftermath of chaos. She met his eyes again with her own and nodded in understanding.

“There’s a tailor’s place just up the street,” she jerked her chin in the direction of it. “I’ll get there and stitch myself up.”

[delmar-rendon]

     Though he noticed the shift in Alice and the curling of fists, he didn’t bother to stop. His threat, though made rather nonchalantly, was still a threat. It showed that she wasn’t naive enough to just trust him; he wouldn’t have. He didn’t trust her, even though he was currently helping her and taking time away from finding those he really did care for. When he leaned back, the wound as clean as he would be able to get it, his eyes lifted to hers.

     “Can you make it on your own?” He asked, though by the way he stood an stepped back before her answer betrayed that he believed she could whether or not she said she would. Though, with what he  knew of Alice Baudin, she wouldn’t consent to help if she wasn’t forced to, and he wasn’t going to force his help on her in this matter.

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

Blindsided | Melanie & Delmar

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

There was nothing and then there was air. Her head was pounding, ears were ringing and she noticed that every time she took a breath she felt as if everything was burning. As soon as fresh air could be felt on her face she coughed up water, gasping as a chill ran through her body, the air made everything seem colder. Shivering, she could feel someone dragging her to the edge of the lake and tried to help by not being dead weight however her many layers of clothes made that hard to accomplish. 

Her mind was in a whirl of confusion at what had all happened. Why had someone done that to her in the first place? Melanie hadn’t done anything recently to warrant an adversary, that she knew of anyways. Especially these last few days where she had been doing her best to help out the villages affected by all the battles. She could have stayed in her safe rooms, ignoring the outside world but she had decided against that and in return this is what she receives? All she knew for sure is that she was very tired of almost being killed. 

“Thank you, for jumping in for me.” she managed to gasp out. Still not sure of who her savior was, she still needed to get out of the freezing water before taking a good look at the man who saved her, and she was sure it was a man, the utter strength he possessed and the lack of soft curves told her that. Oh what a horrid way to start a new day.

[delmar-rendon]

Had it not been so difficult, Delmar would have peeled the layer of clothing fromthe woman’s body to make pulling her back to the land easier. Unfortunately, it would have likely taken just as long--if not longer-- to get her free of those constraints. In the end, it was easier to simply wrestle all of her back to the surface, drawing in a deep breath as they both broke the water and into the air. 

When he got them to the side, he was lifting her up just enough so that her head would stay above the water before he climbed out of the water himself. It would be easier to pull her out than it would be to lift her, and it gave him he leverage to help her onto land without as much trouble as he’d experienced just getting her from under the water. Though, she still felt like she weighed several hundred pounds with the dress and the weight the water added.

Drawing in as deep a breath as he could, Delmar’s gaze momentarily left the woman to look around. The place was nearly empty now; whoever it was that had shoved her in had taken off, and the lull in other people in the area made the place eerily silent. A shiver ran through his body that, despite being used to the water normally, made him realize how cold it was. Peeling off the drenched shirt he wore, he looked back to the young girl. “We need to get you warm. Can you stand?”

[alicebaudin-blog]

     “Rendon…” Alice warned, her mouth turning downward as it fell on deaf ears. The stubborn quartermaster held the other at a distant regard, his relation to her not falling into enemy or close friend, and Alice was unsure if she could trust such a thing. He was intent on staying, for whatever reason, and Alice quickly lost hold of the situation as he looked up with a hardened, stubborn expression. She looked away, removed her hand, and lifted her shirt, allowing him to take in the wound. 

      As he took care of her wound, she remained vigil, emerald-sparked eyes taking in everything around them. Watching his back was the least she could do for him in return, Alice never fond of owing anyone, anything. “You are an odd one. Staying for someone who isn’t your own.”

[delmar-rendon]

“If you continue to complain,” Delmar started, lifting his gaze to look up at her for a moment before back to her side. “I’ll find a way to gag you.” The threat was made casually; he had little intentions of following through on it. If nothing else, it got the point across that for as much as she wanted to say that she was fine he was going to be sure of it before he left her there. The last thing he needed was the Pirate Lord Barrett to be on his ass about that. He was irritated already with the man, and any further communication with him would likely end poorly for one or both of them.

When Alice moved her hand so he could see the wound at her side, he drew in his breath slowly to look at it before nodding. There wasn’t much he could do, but the small water pouch he had at his waist was removed and used to clean the gash, a portion of his own shirt pulled and ripped off to dab at it and make sure it was as clean as could be. “If it doesn’t get bandaged or stitched you’ll be lucky to get out of this without an infection,” He said, looking up to her again and, for the moment, ignoring her comment.

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

Blindsided | Open

It was all really sudden. One minute she was admiring the view before her, the sun highlighting the trees covered in frost and the ice cap over the man made lake not that far from the castle. This village was Melanie’s favorite to visit, they had the loveliest gardens and nature was left on it own, invading the buildings and covering anything grey and made of stone. It had a magical effect on the town. The sight before her was a stunning vision of light and what seemed like crystals that left her breathless.

So captivated by the sight in front of her she never heard the footsteps behind her, but she did feel the push, the lack of control over her body as she fell forward. Screaming she managed to twist at the last second before her body broke through the ice and ice water surrounded her. Pain overwhelmed her senses she knew no more.

[delmar-rendon]

Much of the chaos from the last few days had slowed; either the king’s guard were doing their damned jobs or the pirates that were causing this mess were getting too tired to fight. Either way, Delmar was pleased with the fact that the incidents were far more contained. It didn’t make move through the town any less cautiously. Should one of the guards or another pirate come into his line of sight, he made sure to keep himself alert and ready. He wasn’t going to die. 

It was one of the guards that he spotted, and instantly he was changing direction and turning down another street. Rather than run and draw more attention to himself, he simply weaved through different streets until he was in a portion of the village that opened into a garden area. It was quiet here; and though it would have been nice to relax he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. He wasn’t alone, after all. Moving slowly, he watched all the others that were around to see what their intents were. Where they were going. If he was noticed. 

He saw her first. Melanie. They’d met, some days ago; before all of Ronsanella had lost it’s mind. He wasn’t quick enough to stop the course of events as they unfolded, but he saw them happen. His hand tightened around the handle of his sickle as he saw her pushed forward and his anger was stilled only by the fact that it was water in front of her and not the hard earth. Delmar was jumping forward instantly, moving quickly on his feet and avoiding any of the snares that would try to trip him up. There was only a moment’s hesitation as he reached the lake’s edge;  he didn’t want to land on her. But, as soon as her form could be seen, he plunged in, his breathe taken away from the sudden spike of cold through his chest. When he surfaced, he drew in as deep a breath as his protesting lungs allowed and dived back under so he could grab the girl. The amount of clothing she had prohibited an easy hold on her, but with his arm wrapped as firmly around her as he could get and a portion of her skirts held tight in his fist, he dragged them both towards the surface of the lake.

[alicebaudin-blog]

       Alice knew her limit and had no qualms with being led from the street. There were few people she would trust to be around her in a weakened state but there was nothing she could do about it, Delmar was not a man she feared– she had never been at the point of his sword– though she wasn’t fool enough not to be wary of him. For whatever reason, he’d stopped, though, and went out of his way to help her despite being from a different crew. An action that caused Alice great confusion, seeing as how she was neither used to acts of kindness from strangers nor from people from other crews. As befuddled by the gesture as she was, she held her breath for the other shoe to drop, the pain accompanying the wound. 

      But it never came.

      “…Thank you.” Alice found the words to be foreign sounding, the rare coupling rare to those outside of her own crew. The streets around them had cleared somewhat, the sun’s slow crawl across the sky nearly come to an end near the horizon. She leaned against a wall and continued to press her hand against her side, a crate holding up against her weight. The man still loitered before her and she indicated with her hand for him to move on. “Go to your crew, once the bleeding stops, I will be fine.” It was a shallow cut, one that probably looked worse than it actually was, but paired with Alice’s exhaustion it would be somewhat hard to pass it off to Alexander as minor.

[delmar-rendon]

     Once Delmar had gotten her a safe distance from the openness of the street and anyone that might come past, he was looking to her. Looking her over. Searching out what he could see as injuries apart from the blood at her side before a brief glance at her face. She wasn’t pale enough for him to think that the blood loss was horrible; most likely a flesh wound. But he was crouching slightly anyway; though his sickles remained close as hand should he need them, either to defend against the woman in front of him or to stop someone that attempted to fall on them while they were occupied.

     He simply nodded at the thanks, nodding towards her side. “Let me see,” He spoke simply. Delmar was no doctor, but he had treated his fair number of cuts and gashes in his time; many of them on himself, a few on the crew. Despite her attempt to wave him off he was simply repeating the command and letting his gaze shift to her face with a more hardened edge than before. It wasn’t as if he wanted to avoid the crew or finding Dimitri. But he also had the undeniable urge, however annoying it may have been, to make sure that others were also okay. Especially ones that he knew. While he wasn’t sure he would go so far as to say he cared for her, as their interactions were limited, and would certainly not lay down his life for her, it was enough that he knew who she was and couldn’t just turn his back without a worry itching at the back of his mind. 

     For his own sake as much as hers, he supposed, he stayed.

[alicebaudin-blog]

      Alice tensed as she felt someone near her, her surname in a tone familiar to her accompanied by a warm, supportive arm. The growl emitted from the other was the shared sentiment towards the wound at her side. She was nearly ashamed that she’d been caught by an errant blade if not for how she had been fighting all day, the exhaustion more cumbersome to her than the wound itself. She held a useless hand to it to staunch the flow of blood, looking up to take in familiar sights. 

     “Rendón,” she greeted with a wince and tried for her signature, easily reckless grin though it fell short of its usual lightness, “it’ll make for a decent scar.” She let him guide her away from the open area, figuring if he helped her out of harm’s way, she could wait till the bleeding stopped and move on her own after that. Her try at lightness turned to concern as she realized what his presence next to her meant.

     “Why aren’t you with your crew? You shouldn’t be out here.”

[delmar-rendon]

     With Alice’s current state, Delmar’s hesitation to approach and put an arm around her had nearly vanished. She looked as though she was about to drop to the ground if she didn’t have something solid behind her, and the chances of her trying to run him through for helping were slim. At least, not to a level where he wouldn’t be able to stop her before she’d killed him.

     The mention of a scar caused a bit of a calloused laugh, a shake of his head as he ushered her out of the line of sight of the main streets. He didn’t wait to see if she was keeping time with his steps, more than content her drag her with him if it came to that. Scars were not something that Delmar wanted to collect, despite the fact that they littered his body like paint on a canvas. He supposed he nearly had more scarred flesh than that that was untouched, but he did not want more. They were a sign of your inferiority to someone else; a weakness. Each scar he wore now was a sign of the time he’d spent making himself better than whoever had given it. He wasn’t sure if it’d be the same for Alice.

      The question of his crew had his jaw clenching, finding a quiet place first to help her sit. “The men are fine,” He said, though the lie was a little less believable in the current situation than it would have been otherwise. But he thought it true; it wasn’t the crew he was concerned about, after all. It was their captain he wanted to find.

[delmar-rendon]

Foreigner's God | Melanie&Delmar

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

Melanie chuckled, not at all surprised by his statement. She didn’t assume many ladies were as forward as she normally was, most too timid or scandalized at the thought of letting others know what they wanted but if they didn’t ask for what they wanted how would they ever get it?  Her chuckles soon died out and a beaming smile replaced them as he accepted her request. All the trepidation she had been feeling vanished in an instant and she almost wished she had her materials in her hands so she could draw him that instant.

“How about we head towards the nearest local gardens? Being this early in the morning will ensure that its not overly populated and its perfect for both conversation and inspiration. Its also sure to be near other small shops in case we find ourselves in need of food or drink.” And it also ensured that they wouldn’t be completely isolated, Melanie knew better than that. She hoped Mr Rendón wouldn’t turn out to be a despicable human being but should the need arise she could cry out for the guards and have help come instantly. She didn’t really see this encounter coming to that end however. So she pushed such thoughts aside. Instead trying to commit to memory the way that small smile he flashed at her earlier changed his whole face, made him more inviting in appearance and more handsome than she thought possible.  She would definitely do some sketches of him smiling.

“I’m sure you’ve unknowingly been someone’s muse, and well… why not you? Monsieur, you are very beautiful. Being handsome is one thing but your features are just…” she paused trying to think up something to say beside “wow”, “…very impressive. “ she finished lamely. Melanie walked alongside the man and smiled to herself before continuing her train of thought aloud. “The trick will be me doing you justice, its been awhile since I last drew anything. But when I saw the way the sunrise hit you and made you look otherworldly for a few moments, it was breathtaking and I wanted it on paper. Is that odd?”

[delmar-rendon]

This woman switched moods quickly, from curious to nervous to excited. He watched her cycle through them and nearly considered taking back his offer had she not been so pleased with his yes. While he spent his time among a crew that often had waves of emotion shift through them, it was of an entirely different feeling. There was anger and boredom and the kind of stir crazy that some men could only feel when at sea for months at a time. A desperation for something else, something more, something different. But the emotions of a woman, he found, were less predictable. While he was perceptive enough to pick up on many of them, they were not always so based in a primal desire for something else. They shifted, quickly, as Melanie’s had. They came and went as if they had no bases or grounding and could move as the sand did under the rising tide. There was nothing steady about it, and there was something in that idea that made Delmar uncomfortable. 

Delmar nodded at her suggestion regardless. It wasn’t fear that filled him at the thought of being near her; there was nothing he would claim that held fear over him. But, rather, an unpleasantness perhaps at feeling as though one needed to be extra careful in their dealings. He didn’t consider himself a harsh man; at least, not always. He could show his force just as easily as compassion if the time called for it. But he was not a soft man to those he did not know, and this woman beside him was a stranger. One wrong word and he could easily send her away in tears, he assumed. 

Her compliments in reply to his question of why he should be the subject of her drawing had him chuckling slightly, shaking his head as the small smile was once again on his lips. Art fascinated him, surely, but he had never been surrounded by the visual kind. There wasn’t a great deal of place on a pirate ship for paintings. Some of the men, he assumed, would draw sketches and things of home or of women. Anything to keep their minds and their fingers occupied when times dragged on. But Delmar had always been far more drawn to the musical side of things. While the moment a song was over the sound would end, he hardly thought that the impression it left was so quick to leave. Art wasn’t a thing he remembered, but a song from one to their lost lover? That was a feeling that could take hold of your chest and refuse to let go. “I doubt it,” He replied quietly, a slight shake of his head. “One must be far more inspiring to be a muse,” As she continued, he glanced her way for a moment before looking ahead of them on the path they walked. Shaking his head, his smile grew slightly. “I wouldn’t know. But I’m also not one to keep up to date on what is considered acceptable or not by others.”

[tatianavalentinaa]

One moment, Tatiana had been attempting to defend her father’s bakery with nothing more than a heavy-bottomed frying pan and every last ounce of courage she could muster, and the next…another man was encroaching upon her. He was tall, dark-eyed, and dangerous, if the two sickles he held in his large hands were anything to go by, and she felt her eyes widen as she struggled to determine whether or not she was going to have to fight him off as well. She didn’t understand how it was that he had gotten hold of such frightening weapons in the first place…as far as she knew, those were not the sort of instruments that the men of King Christian’s army boasted. However, before she could so much as cry out or scream for help, the strange man was moving towards the half-circle of looters that had formed around her bakery with all the grace and agility of a seasoned fighter, and he made the group of dirty-faced men appear clumsy and disorganized in comparison. Then, without any sort of warning whatsoever, he was reaching for the looter that was the closest to him, the one with the broken bottle and the stained teeth, and Tatiana felt her last breath escape her parted lips in a shuddering rush as…in a handful of mere seconds, he was dragging one of his sickles across the swell of the looter’s throat until it tore open and gaped into a deadly, bleeding gash. 

He…oh God, he had killed him. Without so much as a single thought, this man had killed him.

Tatiana wasn’t even aware of the rest of the raiders leaving in a hurried rush in response to the murder of one of their own. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she felt shaky, dizzy, and nauseous, as well. Only once before had she seen someone die in front of her, and that had been her poor mother, gaunt and pale as she allowed her sickness to consume her entirely as she said her goodbyes to the family she loved more than anything else in the entire world. Tatiana knew that the man standing before her now had only been attempting to help her, to shield her and her bakery from the gang of looters that would have done unthinkable things if left alone, but she still couldn’t tear her wide-eyed gaze away from the sight of the lanky man on the ground with his throat torn open and the last vestiges of life quickly leaving him. “He is–he is dead; oh–oh God, he is not…on ne ostanovitsya krovotecheniye; on umirayet, Bozhe...” Shakily, and without answering the stranger’s query, Tatiana was falling to her knees before the dying man, and her fretful little hands sought out the jagged gash that had been dragged across his throat, only to come away bloody and useless as she realized that there was no longer anything that she could do. She had wanted him to leave her bakery, of course, and she had been willing to beat him over the head to do it, but…oh God, she hadn’t wanted anyone to die today.

“We must be giving him proper burial,” Tatiana managed to say in a quivering rush, and with hands that trembled just as badly, she reached out to close the fallen man’s eyes, feeling her own well with tears all the while. She looked back up at the stranger that had single-handedly defended her and her bakery, and she wasn’t angry or accusing at all, but rather…sad. Sad, and determined as well. She didn’t know who this man was, or why he was carrying around a pair of sickles, but…he couldn’t be too bad, could he, if he had taken time away from whatever he was doing to rescue a girl he didn’t even know? “Please, I–I am wanting to take his body into the woods…no one should have to lay dead in street for everyone to see. You are already doing much for me, big man, but I am asking for just this one more thing and then I will be pretending as if I am not seeing you at all. Please…help me bring into woods.”

[delmar-rendon]

Death was an interesting concept. Killing another brought some people a large amount of trepidation. The taking of another life wasn’t necessarily ‘easy’, and Delmar wouldn’t have claimed as much. But the decision to do it became a lot more clear when faced with a situation like this one. As soon as someone else decided that they were willing to fight or try and kill another, they had forfeited a right to life. Assuming, of course, there was someone there that could best them. Among this crowd, Delmar was not worried about whether or not he could win a fight; they were untrained. Looking for an easy steal or a woman they could force to the ground. They’d nearly found it here, with the young blond that clung to a frying pan like it was her savior. It wouldn’t have served her much good if they decided they wanted to take her. Too many of them and too few of her. But the thought of death--of what was allowed and wasn’t, was never far from Delmar’s mind. He took lives of other men, and as such had forfeited his own should someone be strong enough to take it. For that reason, he made as certain as he could that he remained skilled enough not to lose his head.

The man that crumpled to the ground at his feet was not so lucky. His grip remained tight on the sickles for a moment before he was looking to the girl finally. Naturally, she seemed quite shocked. He didn’t blame her. Had he been in her position, he supposed he would have been just surprised by the actions of a stranger.

The shock set in quickly in the young girl, and rather than answer his question she was gasping and spouting out worries about the man that had fallen between them. For a moment, the dilect shifted and he was sure she was speaking a language he wasn’t familiar with. Russian, perhaps? Though he wasn’t familiar enough with it to know what she said. The concern on her face was enough to give him the vague idea that it was the same thing she’d been gasping when she spoke in English. He frowned a bit, his gaze turning towards the streets for another minute. There was chaos all around them and this woman wanted to deal with the dead body of a man that would have killed her in a heartbeat. She’d dropped to her knees, and if that’s what she needed to get past her shock at what had happened then so be it. His fingers flexed over the handle of his sickles before he shifted them both to one hand. The wooden handles, carved in a way that they could fit together and form what was basically one blade, he looked to the blonde and gritted his teeth. They needed to get out of the street, or she would be seeing a lot more killing than she had likely expected. From the looks of it, she didn’t expect to see any. The blood was still sticky and bright on the blade of his weapon, slowing dripping from the curved tip to the cobblestone below. No doubt an image that didn’t help to calm the young girl.

But, then, she was speaking again. Two words he hadn’t expected and nearly made him laugh. Proper burial. Surely, she wasn’t serious. He was ready to ignore it when she continued to speak and a look of blatant disbelief crossed his face. “A burial?” He asked in almost a laugh, though there was no humor. Stepping forward, he shook his head, ignoring the fallen man between them. “The dead care for their own.” He said simply. This man had taken his fate into his own hands and he had come up short. Whatever demons had been following him would certainly see to it that he got what he deserved. A proper burial was not what he deserved. He could sit there and rot for all Delmar cared; it wasn’t his responsibility to pay his penance or see to his funeral. “It isn’t safe here--this man would have killed you had I not done him first. You need to get inside and lock the doors. Now.” He stepped forward again, look hardening and jaw clenching again. Should she not comply, he supposed he could drag her. Perhaps leave her there. He’d done his part, after all. He couldn’t feel guilty about saving her life if she was going to be just as stupid with it as the man that he’d already killed.

[alicebaudin-blog]

     “Bleeding?” Alice looked down to where she could see the slow spread of darkened crimson blooming from her side. It’d probably happened during one of the previous fights, Alice to pumped full of adrenaline to notice it at first.

      “No matter, it won’t keep me from my–” her world tilted then, her words stolen as she grabbed her side to stop the bleeding, steps faltering when she tried to advance.

[delmar-rendon]

     Delmar still hadn’t found Dimitri, he had only found a few selected members of the crew and promptly told them all that if they didn’t want him to cut their heads off himself they’d been get their ass far from this mess, and he’d instead spent the majority of his time saving young women. This was, apparently, what his life had become. As he rounded the corner and saw another woman he almost turned to run in the other direction--and he would have, too, had he not caught glimpse of her face and realized that he knew her. Fuck.

     He was at her side just as she started to stumble and an arm came around her to keep her steady. “Baudin,” He said, by way of a greeting and a question of how she was. Delmar’s gaze dropped to her side and he growled slightly at the blood that had begun to seep through her shirt. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the street.”

[coralinemermont]

The Space Between || Coraline & Delmar

It was as she was attending to an elder woman who had a large cut along the length of her forehead that the church caught fire. Those sheltered under its shadow that were still conscious began to scream as half a dozen pirates came out of the surrounding smoke, yelling and tossing flaming torches onto the roof and through the windows. Cora’s heart jumped into her throat, threatening to choke her as many of the helpers fled. Some stayed, trying to rally those on the ground or carry out the more seriously wounded. 

She wanted to run. Gods, she wanted to run far away from this and never return to land, but there were little children and mothers with babies struggling to get away from the circling pirates. The men laughed as they slashed at the human’s feet, purposefully missing but pushing the group farther back towards the burning walls as the injured shrieked for mercy.  

Rage welled in her chest like a spring, hot and volatile, and the water in the basins the mer had gathered began to tremble. Cora stepped towards the church and raised her hands, splaying her fingers towards the flames without consciously considering what she was starting. Every available water source within 100 feet rose into the air, shimmering and twisting violently, before crashing into the church with a deafening impact. The infant fire was no match and extinguished instantly, hissing and screaming as smoke erupted from the blackened wood. 

“Filthy fucking fish!” The pirates standing beside the church gaped in fury at the woman they’d overlooked, allowing time for the humans to flee, soaked and terrified but alive. 

Cora didn’t have more than a moment to take satisfaction in her actions. Something cracked against the back of her head hard enough to black out her vision and when she regained herself, she was on the ground. Six men stood around her; one wrapped his first in her hair before smacking her face into the cobblestone. Cora screamed as blood streamed from her nose, wet and thick, and pain and terror clouded her senses. 

“Looks like we caught a fish out of water, lads,” the man who had her hair spat, pulling her up. Two others seized her arms, holding Cora in place as she struggled. “Think she burns like a human?” 

The pirate leading the group leered and stepped forward, his fingers finding the silver chain around her neck. It held a translucent vial of salt water that she always wore on land to keep up her strength. With a snap, he broke it from her skin and smashed it on the ground. 

“No better time to find out.” 

[delmar-rendon]

He should have avoided the screams. Stayed focused on the task at hand. He needed to find his captain and find the crew, and instead he had been led astray when he passed the lighted church and heard the screams within. He didn’t believe that the crew would be inside, but he reasoned that checking was for the best. Before he’d even reached the door, the flames were extinguished by a display of control that could have only come from one of the mer. While most pirates would have rushed to find the culprit, he felt little. He wasn’t one to hunt the mer people; whether on land or at sea. It wasn’t something that had ever interested him and he had avoided nearly all the times the crew were roped into the hunting of such people. When he stood at the door, the water dripping from the wood of the entrance, he told himself he wouldn’t completely go inside. He could see it was where the wounded were being treated; but they weren’t the ones that drew his attention.

The shrill scream that erupted from a woman pushed to the ground was where his eyes settled and almost instantly his grip on the handles of his sickles was tightening. 

Coraline.

He could walk away. He’d learned she was mer by accident, and it was clear now that she was the one who gave herself away through the saving of the church. It was her own fault, his logic told him. He could walk away with no responsibility. But, as the men pulled her to her feet, Delmar was pulling himself forward into the building. He didn’t run; there was no reason for that, and it wouldn’t accomplish what he wanted. Running meant fear, and he felt none of that. Instead, he moved deliberately. Picking his way around the wounded and those helping that still tried to flee from the building and the scene developing. His eyes looked not to her, but to the men around her. Looking to see if he could recognize their faces; he had no doubts that they were pirates, but he doubted any were from the crews of the pirate lords. He didn’t recognize any of them, and he made it a point to keep tabs on those that he met when near the others that led the pirate forces. 

“She’s mine,” He said before he’d gotten all the way in front of them, with a casual air of confidence that he thought left little room for argument. Apparently, they disagreed. One of them turned and scowled at him, laughing at his blatant claim of ownership. Clearly they didn’t know who he was. His head just tilted and he rose an eyebrow. “I don’t like to repeat myself. So unless you’d like me to gut you before I do the fish bitch, I suggest you give her to me. I’ve been looking for her for awhile now.” He shifted the sickle in his hand, intending to draw their focus to it. To the mostly dried, brown layer that covered it. The clear mark of lives that he’d taken not too long ago. He stepped forward, lowering his chin slightly. He didn’t puff himself up to show dominance; instead focusing on being prepared to fight them, should they not comply. His blade twisted again and he watched them.

“You have five seconds to decide if you want to live or die like one of them.”

[tatianavalentinaa]

"No no no—I am telling you, stay back! Stay BACK!” 

Tatiana hadn’t been at all prepared for the incoming raid on the village, and with her father out of town on business and no one but her to protect their beloved bakery, she had taken it upon herself to snatch up the first weapon she could find—a heavy, cast-iron frying pan—before leaving the relative safety of her home to stand guard outside of the last true memory of her mama that her and her papa had to hold onto. Everything about their little bakery had been dedicated to her late mother—Sweetums was the affectionate little pet name that had been used when her parents thought that Tatiana was within hearing range, and each and every single one of the recipes had been taken from her handwritten notes. The young Russian girl would sooner give up her own life than abandon the bakery that she loved so dearly, and now, she was standing outside of it with her frying pan and her heart on her sleeve, surrounded by a half-circle of looters who seemed to want nothing more than to ransack everything of value from their little shop before burning it to the ground.

Brandishing her weapon of choice defensively, Tatiana let out a shaky breath as she glared heatedly at the numerous men who encroached upon her with their dirty hands, guns and swords strapped to their sides and broken bottles made out of jagged glass in their hands, wondering how on earth she was supposed to manage to take them on all at once. Wide-eyed and scared, she did her best not to let it show, stubbornly staring down each and every one of the men who so much as dared to take another step towards her and her bakery.

"I am meaning it—if you do not leave right this instant, I will beat you bloody until you are not breathing!”

[delmar-rendon]

Delmar was angry. The tensions that had spread over the land the last few months had finally broken and the result was going to be disastrous if someone didn’t get a handle on it soon. While he knew it had to be done, he was not naive enough to think that it was his role to fill. His goal was only to find Dimitri. The captain had left the ship a few hours before Delmar, and by the time the quartermaster had gotten into town things were falling apart.

It was as if war had taken to the streets with little regard for anything. There were no rules here; there was kill or be killed, in some situations. There was fear and evasion. Many people were running around. It was the perfect opportunity for many to break into shops and steal things or take women where ever they found them. With both sickles in hand in preparation to defend himself, Delmar picked his way through the city towards the places he expected to find his captain or other members of the crew. Dimitri, he knew, could care for himself. Some of the other crew were less gifted. Regardless, they were all his responsibility.

When he’d rounded a corner, he came face to face with a small crowd of men moving towards a young woman that was armed with nothing but a frying pan. She’d be lucky to make contact before one of them got a hold of her. With the number of them compared to one of her, she was hardly in luck. Gritting his teeth, he was prepared to walk away when an annoying sense of duty clawed at his chest and had him turning.

Grip tightening on the handle in his right hand, he moved quickly towards the group. It was the one on the outside that he got to first, hand holding the handle and reaching to turn the man at the same time. Before he could react, Delmar’s other hand was raising and the sharp edge of the sickle was drawn across his neck. The man crumbled, and Delmar’s attention turned to the others. “Run or die,” Most of them moved instantly, fleeing from what they perceived to be an easy target in the young woman when faced with someone that would--and did--kill. The sickle provided a slightly more lethal weapon than a frying pan. His gaze stayed on the men for a moment longer, certain they were leaving, before he glanced to the woman. His body was still tense; ready for others to come from the woodwork as they were wont to do. “Are you okay?”

[delmar-rendon]

Foreigner's God | Melanie&Delmar

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

“No I don’t think you are…. wrong that is. I’m quite good with faces myself usually.” After all her job required remembering special details about certain people in order to fulfill their every fantasy. It also helped that she enjoyed drawing, remembering faces after all that was not difficult in the least.  “I think its safe to say that this is our first meeting Monsieur Rendón, and the pleasure is all mine.” He didn’t seem really receptive to her being around him the way most males were. Not once did his eyes try to sneak a peek at her cleavage and when his gaze roamed her figure it never felt sexual in nature. Rather than be upset about this new development Melanie brushed it aside, she was aware that she was not always someone’s type, thank heavens for that (there was only so much men she could take). This wouldn’t stop her from flirting however, that was just her nature. And fun, flirting was so much fun, she just wouldn’t expect anything more from Mr. Rendón and if he happened to change his mind later…well she wouldn’t be opposed to that either. 

“I’m glad to hear that monsieur, I would hate to be responsible for delaying you in any important quests.” She was intrigued by this man but for the first time in a long time she began to feel awkward, playing with the small details on her bodice Melanie took a deep breath before blurting out what she was thinking. “Would you be opposed to joining me for a simple stroll among the port and its stands? Honestly, I have this desire to sketch you, and being in your company for a few moments could help be do so without asking you to pose for me.” Melanie was unsure of what the Mr. Rendón would think of her offer, and was in a way cringing in preparation of rejection. Where she had been keeping eye contact before the request, she now avoided his eyes. Had this been about anything else, a sexual offer, a night of fun or even to get tipsy in the bars, Melanie would be assured and confident. But this was about something much more vulnerable and delicate than that. Her art was a talent she was not sure of, a talent she had for no one but herself. Therefore in comparison to everything else, she simply was not the arrogant lady who knew she excelled in practically everything she put her mind too.

“Feel free to say no Monsieur, I’m aware of how odd this request is, but I also want to add in that it would be lovely to be in your company. I enjoy making new friends wherever I go.” Still playing with the details of her dress to give her hands something to do she gave him her most sincere smile. 

[delmar-rendon]

Delmar nodded and was happy to hear that she agreed about the fact that this was, in fact, their first meeting. He liked to think that he was fairly good at remembering others, and while it wouldn’t have hurt him in any way if he hadn’t recognized her, it still seemed rude and unfortunate that she would know him and he wouldn’t know her. It wasn’t often that he found himself on land long enough to make friends and connect with others, so it didn’t surprise him when she agreed to the fact. Even if she had been the type to travel, she didn’t appear to be the kind that would find herself on board pirate ships. Especially not the Dauntless, where he spent the majority of his time. Dimitri was very particular about the fact that women were not to be aboard the ship. They brought nothing but bad luck, he would say; though Delmar would be more apt to say that they simply brought trouble. While the men were likely to get lonely when away for long times, he hardly thought introducing a woman as company would be what would help them.

When the woman seemed to lose some of her confidence, dropping her gaze and occupying her hands with something other than just sitting at her side, he tilted his head. While he knew there were times he could come across as intimidating, he hardly thought he gave the woman cause to be nervous. When she finally spoke again and posed a question, his eyebrow rose. It was certainly not one that he had expected to hear, especially from a young woman that he had only just met. Drawing was something unfamiliar to him, if only because it was not a skill he was often around in his line of work. Drawing was the kind of art given to those that could afford the luxuries of extra paper and writing tools. Either this woman was one of the court or had money; perhaps from family? It wasn’t much of a concern to him. The art itself was fascinating, and the idea that she would choose him from the number of people that she had likely met was an interesting thought. His head tilted a bit as he regarded her and realized he was letting the silence hang a bit too long between them. “I will admit... I’ve never been asked that, before.” He smiled, only slightly, and finally nodded his head. “It couldn’t hurt.” He replied finally, with another nod of his head. It was curious to him, and while he watched her a moment longer he finally turned his attention back to the larger market around them.

“Is there a place in particular you would like to walk to?” He asked, looking back to her and watching for a sign of that nervousness to fade away. Whatever it was about himself that caused it, he wasn’t sure. If she was daring enough to ask that he join her simply so she could draw him, he wasn’t positive what it was about himself that would set her on edge. “If I may,” He ventured, once they had started walking. “Why me? I can’t say I’ve been drawn by someone before. At least, not that they asked.”

[delmar-rendon]

Foreigner's God | Melanie&Delmar

[melaniederrieux-deactivated2015]

Melanie returned his smile and tried her best not to giggle at the confusion that tinged his expressions, he was for lack of a better word, adorable. “No apologies necessary monsieur, your stares were not aggressive nor uncomfortable, and if that had been the case I never would have approached you.” Melanie smiled in what she hoped was a nonthreatening way, she didn’t want to come off too strong, which she knew she was prone to do at times. “I had originally come over to see if we actually did know each other, I’m pretty well traveled but now that we have clarified the fact that we don’t, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Melanie Derrieux, and you are?” 

Initially Melanie wasn’t sure what she was seeking that early morning, if she were honest with herself she was simply running away from her problems but she liked to deny the fact that she could be a coward at times so she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Now that she was standing there before him she found a sudden itch to sketch him. The lighting of the morning sun and the way it kissed his skin was a beautiful sight. She has not touched her sketch pad since first arriving on Ronsanella, dedicating her free time to shopping around the town, socializing and if she felt like it playing on the piano. Although she was surrounded by inspiration she never really felt the need to draw until now. His features were striking,  Manly and sexy no doubt, but adorable fit in there too. His intense eyes and scruffy facial hair really worked well for him, and she appreciated the structure of his face, her fingers twitched. She almost wanted to ask him if he would be willing to pose for her but she stopped herself from speaking her thoughts aloud. It was a bit weird to ask a stranger to just pose for her just like that. They weren’t even acquaintances!  Not only that but he looked like a man that had places to be and things to do. A worried frown appeared on her face, “I’m not keeping you from anything important am I?”

[delmar-rendon]

“I’m glad to know that I didn’t put you off, then,” Delmar smiled, if only slightly. He was sure he didn’t know the woman, but he had to believe there was more reason than just his stare to draw her to himself. His look was not as enticing as all that, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps that was due only to a lack of interest in his own appearance. His body was a tool, not a means of attracting another. Especially not one like the woman in front of him. “I could be wrong,” He replied simply, tilting his head and searching her face once more. She didn’t seem familiar to him, but it was possible that his memory of her had faded. “Delmar Rendón, Miss Derrieux. The pleasure is mine.” He inclined his head towards her a bit, but withheld his hand for the sole purpose that she seemed far higher socially than himself; if she should want to shake the hand of a seaman, that would be her own choice.

A silence hung between them for a moment and he drew a slow breath. He wasn’t sure exactly what the woman was seeking from him, or if he had the means to offer it, but standing there staring back at he without speaking seemed to border on inappropriate. Surely she had better things to do than be trapped into a conversation with him. But then, she had been the one to approach him, and he knew full well that basing assumptions on what you see could easily lead you astray. Letting his gaze wander, he looked to the others in the small market. Many had likely been up for hours, based on the way they looked to be the working class. Preparing farm land or animals or food for the others in town. There just started to be a growing number of people in finer wear; out for shopping or a morning meal before going about their day and whatever pointless things filled their hours.

As she spoke, he looked back to her with a slight raise of his brow. He frowned a bit as he shook his head, giving her a smile as his attention moved to her. “Not in the slightest,” He looked around again. He had no need to rush back to the Dauntless, as much as he may have enjoyed spending nearly all of his time there. But for now--for the next few hours--he was spending his time in town with little plan for his time. The thought almost made him laugh. He would be one of the people filling his time with useless things, rather than the ones that he was quick to dismiss for laziness. “You’re not keeping me from anything.”

[coralinemermont]

“On the contrary, you’re very welcome,” Cora countered, looking over at Delmar. His stance suggested protection, maybe even hostility, and she wondered how well the two men knew each other and what exactly was about to occur. Hopefully nothing too violent, though seeing the Pirate Lord punched would be gratifying. 

She paused when Alexander made it glaringly obvious that she was a mermaid but Delmar showed no reaction to the news. It could be put aside for now in the face of a much larger problem.

“Merely happy to see a friendly face, land-dweller. You do know that I don’t have the face of a fish, right? It’s the other way around; I have the tail, though not right now. Your insult’s a bit misguided.” 

[alexxanderbarrett-blog]

Had Dimitri sent the little leech to spy on him or something? To see what, exactly, Alexander was up to? The idea was nauseating enough, but coupled with the stranger’s words—about being unwanted anyway and not stopping now—it took everything in Alex to keep from doubling over and vomiting in disgust. Instead, though, he merely rolled his eyes, hellbent on ignoring Delmar.

“It’s an expression…like with every disgusting member of your species, being a fish runs through your veins,” Alexander spat, his voice low, cold, and crisp as he addressed both the mermaid and her apparent pirate accomplice. Did Dimitri know about this too, then?

“Tail, head, torso, it’s all the same to me,” he said with a wave of his hand, crinkling his nose in repulsion. “You’re all scales and gills to me. Disposable, even.”

[delmar-rendon]

This was cute. A pleasant little conversation that he had pushed himself into without fully thinking through what it was that he would find. It wasn’t surprisingly that Alexander’s behavior was less than cordial. The news of Coraline’s actual origins were a bit more shocking, but not enough to have him back down. He’d enjoyed the girl’s presence, and unless she did something incredibly stupid, he saw no reason to hurt her simply for the fact that she had a tail. Unlike some, his desire towards the maiming of another person was low.

“Is there something I could do for you, Barrett?” Delmar debated sticking ‘lord’ to the front of that, but he was certain that he would be unable to do it without a biting level of sarcasm. It was one thing that wasn’t necessary, and more likely to spur a bigger issue. He shrugged, tilting his head and all but ignoring Coraline’s presence just a step behind him. “Or maybe insults are all that we can expect today.”

[celinedahl-blog]

“Maybe not all. The first man I ever killed was a quartermaster, so I suspect that it may be an exclusive gift.” Celine smiled coyly. As much as she had detested the circumstances leading up to that first kill, she was still a smidgen proud of how well that particular part of her plan had been executed, given the circumstances. “On the other hand, this was before my reputation with men was well known.” That was perhaps the only time she was grateful for the simple-mindedness of the male species. Now that she had to keep them alive, it was far less useful.

She scoffed at his idea, however. “Being a Pirate Lord is a glorified title. I could still kick their asses without it. I’m half-tempted to do that now, really.” The boys really could use a good smackdown. Some more than others.

She burst out into laughter when he challenged her, eyebrows raised in her skepticism. “Oh really? You don’t think I could do it? Darling, if I wanted you dead, you would be.” Given how much her temper had cooled since she had run into him, it was unlikely that she would actually put that into practice. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can turn you into some fine-looking shark bait if you insist.” 

[delmar-rendon]

“I can guarantee you that your reputation has no bearing on the way that I’m acting, so I’m not sure that has any affect either. Perhaps Lamai and I really do just have a special gift.” He wasn’t sure what exactly that gift would be; while he knew the man, in name mostly, he didn’t know him well enough to be able to ascertain what it was that would make them similar. Perhaps now he would have to take the time necessary to get to know the other quartermaster a little better.

“You could. But you have got the title,” He smirked a bit, tilting his head. “Would a queen reject her title simply because there were other, horrible queens. Put the other queens to shame, my dear,” Delmar said, shrugging. She didn’t need the title to be what she was, that was clear neough based on her history. But neither did she need to negate her title because a certain pirate lord had no concept of planning or intelligence.

Delmar’s smile matched hers and he shrugged yet again. He watched the woman; not necessarily on guard but half expecting that she should try to follow through on that threat here and now. The two sickles at his sides would be ready in an instant, but he doubted that it was more than banter. At least, for now. “You’re good at killing, I’m good at staying a life. An unstoppable force and immovable object, it seems.”

[delmar-rendon]

Sloth

Sloth: Your character has nothing to do all day. No work, homework or upcoming projects. Even their friends aren’t answering their phones. So how do he or she spend their lazy afternoon?

“Reading is more than likely how I will spend my afternoon. I will readily devour just about any literary work I can find if it’s in my native tongue. Those are sometimes hard to come by in Ronsanella, but frequently when we’re out at other ports I will come across a Spanish work. And, of course, it need not be a new book to keep my interest. I’m willing to read the same book over again if the need arises.”

[delmar-rendon]

Gluttony

Gluttony: Write about the one food or dish your character would eat every day if they could. Describe why they like the taste or what got them into this particular dish. Is it a family recipe or something they read/watched being demonstrated elsewhere? Would they cook it for their lover and/or friends?

"I don’t know that there’s one thing in particular that I like enough that I could limit my diet to that alone, but I do have a soft spot for hot gingerbread. Especially when it’s freshly baked. Even better if I’ve a glass of brandy to go with it. It is, however, something I’m not granted often. We don’t tend to have much of it when we’re out at sea, so it’s a rarity that I enjoy when I do have the chance. “It didn’t come about as some family recipe or anything so nostalgic. It was simply something that I had the pleasure of trying one day and I’ve been a fan of since. And I also, unfortunately, am not gifted in the art of baking, or I would be more than happy to make it for myself and others.”