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κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

“Yes, if only you were,” Nathanael sighed, merely to mock her tone for lack of anything else to do. This was the most conversation he had bothered to have in what felt like weeks, especially since he usually reserved his oh so glorious company for that of Elias, whether or not his friend wished to hear it. When they had their little staring contests, it simply gave Nathanael moments to take in the differences in her features. They were soft – though that was simply a facade that he could see through now that he’d seen the creature in the throes of anger. He could see the razor like edges throughout the woman’s eyes and high cheekbones, and he simply chalked it off as something that was unnatural in nature. The captain wasn’t sure what the gods had wanted when they had created the mermaid before him, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now.

“Prayers? Are you the praying type, woman?” he questioned back, keeping up the ruse of whatever it is they were currently playing. Questions upon questions with no clear answers; this was merely the beginning, though Nathanael knew it was probably just as close to the end. “Perhaps Ammut will swallow your heart anyway,” he mused, always one who favored the scale metaphor. Nathanael shrugged his shoulders, his interest in the woman getting the better of him as usual. He liked listening to her speak, no matter the tone or words that left her mouth – he would always listen. That irked him to no other, since who was she to command his attention? Nathanael didn’t bend towards anyone’s will. Not the gods, and definitely not the creature tied up in his cabin.

“Tell me your merits, then. Tell me whatever it is you wish for me to know. You as well speak as though you hold all the power in simple word. If I am to make a believer out of you, perhaps you should make one out of me as well. Believing in existence is one thing, but I can’t say that anything else comes out of it,” he drawled, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Perhaps I don’t trust your word. You’re a captive; a pawn in a game I’m certain you wanted nothing to do with. Those in your position would say anything to make someone believe they had the upper hand,” Nathanael shrugged, his blue eyes meeting her own green ones, “I take your word with a grain of salt – much like you’ve taken mine. Until we exchange names, you have told me nothing worth of listening to. What else have you done but mock me? Should I take my wounded pride and leave? Perish the thought,” he grinned slightly at his words, because, naturally, he thought he was quite clever. “Ah, woman,” he groaned, rubbing his hand over his eyes for a brief moment before he leaned back against his desk once more. “I have forever dreamed of you. In all your glory – swimming around the icy depths of the oceans; Minerva as your deity that you give all the praise to. No. Until today, I had rejected the thought of such things swimming around with nothing better to do but attack those who live on their ships. Seems such a desolate lifestyle, though your lack of excitement seems to reinforce the ideas.”

Nathanael’s own smile simply widened, as if her mock enthusiasm was the funniest thing he had heard all day, “I don’t wish for your kind to be hunted. And if that’s the only small mercy I have for you and the other women of the sea, then so be it. You hold yourself and your species in such high esteem that one can only wonder if you had even bothered to step foot on land. Where would you wish to go? Or perhaps, where, besides Ελλάδα, do you even know of?”

#ok so ignore the fact that she knew what a heart was in earlier replies #because i'm wondering if this could create and interesting dynamic and relationship development between them down the line #para #para 01

Andromeda wondered as the man stared at her, made mark of her features and face, how he could be folly enough to overlook the life draining from her right before him. She could have been upset about it, but every petty bone in her body preferred it. She would sooner wither to nothing without his help or his realization and die than accept, willing or unwilling, any small mercy on his behalf. She had heard rumors, too, murmurings. When mermaids died they became sea foam and returned permanently to that which had given them life. It was supposed to be a beautiful cycle, a meaningful equilibrium. Andromeda was satisfied by the fact that Nathanael would have no proof of and nothing to show for her alone.

“Do not read me for some mortal below my station,” Andromeda warned, but the only punishment she could force the man to endure was the sting of her words. “But perhaps there is a time and a place for prayer. My worship skills are not what they used to be, unpracticed and largely left behind. But I am not beyond attempts at hymn for the right cause,” she breathed in an airy tone, one nonplussed enough to let him know she didn’t take him seriously as anything more than a wicked little man. “The insecure god with an inferiority complex,” she listed for example. “Or a merciful and swift audience with Hades.”

For the first time a confusion showed plainly on Andromeda’s face when he made reference to Ammut’s scale. Her eyes looked blank for one moment, no traces of the spite working the wheels of her mind behind them. Andromeda’s lips rest slightly parted for a moment before she looked at him in wonderment. “What is a heart?” she asked.

“Even if that’s so,” Andromeda said, her words slow as she chose them carefully and as she pushed them out past her fatigure, “I have already bested you. I needn’t prove anything to you—you saw me and I was revelation. I proved my kinds existence. I saw you, and you were nothing more than the men I’ve seen before. I owe you nothing.”

Andromeda’s body sagged slightly against the pillar she was bound to, and she drew her tail in closer to her. The air was dry and bothered her skin. It was cold as well, to her at least, and she missed her shoreline already. She wouldn’t be back soon, she was sure of that much. If she died she wasn’t sure she would every be consciously back in that place. And if she lived… If she lived there were those she could no longer permit to live to take care of first.

“Is that what you want of me?” Andromeda questioned, letting her head fall to the side and lay against the arc of her pale, delicate shoulder. Her hair cascaded down her front, but she seemed far from distracted by her own beauty, though much of her glimmer and shine had faded in the dim cabin light. “My name?” Her eyes and air when dark again, and she thundered at him the greater portion of what small energy she had left. “I am no woman!” And she was calmer again immediately after the outburst, her hand slackening in her lap and her eyes settling on him once more, watchful, defensive. “Of all the gods’ mistakes, why us?”

Andromeda’s eyes slid closed, though she listened to the headstrong captain prattle at her still. She sighed quietly to herself, a tired and tiresome noise all the same. “Certainly this hell,” she reported back.

Before she had any opportunity to expand upon what she meant the cabin door opened. She opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly, but couldn’t make the figure out right away. The bulk of the doorframe was blocked by his large frame, only offering a hazy outline of him from the sunlight streaming in. It exacerbated the dull ache she was already in, but she refused to show it. When Elias caught sight of her his instinct immediately alerted him that something was wrong. He didn’t allow himself the time necessary to wonder if Nathanael would take him seriously, he knew how to approach maladies well, before interjecting immediately, “Have you done anything else to her? She looks like she’s a moment away from death.”

The fire that had been present behind Andromeda’s eyes for the first half of the interaction was back, but this time pointed at Elias. If he hadn’t waltzed in she would be on her way out now, perhaps in not the most glorious fashion, but in a small amount of time she would have made sure Nathanael’s plan had gone to seed and that by keeping mum about her deteriorating condition she’d have been sent by the gods back to the coastline she had come from.

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

Nathanael was slightly disappointed. It wasn’t a word he thought he would’ve had to use when looking at a mermaid of all things. The whole situation was starting to become lack luster to him. He was simply glad the woman had at least started to talk to him, easily ignoring whatever tone she decided to use against him since he was just thrilled to hear what the sea creature had to say. The captain wasn’t more inclined to listen simply because she was a woman, which was more than he could say for ninety nine percent of his crew. He wasn’t a glutton for sex and women like the slobs he knew roamed around his ship; having a woman wasn’t power, and he was in it for the glory. “You wound me,” he smiled, placing a hand over his heart.

The captain examined the wood with interest, raising an eyebrow at Andromeda, “Feel better?” he asked, pouring himself some rum from one of the many bottles he had sitting on his desk. He seemed unbothered by the fact that the waves hitting the ship were causing more of a sway, standing against his desk and not taking his eyes off of his captured bait.

He didn’t expect her to agree with him, or even humor him with his claim to be more immortal than not. Nathanael’s own smile graced his face, “The world is whatever I wish it to be, don’t you think? Your world is the depths around the island of Minerva, though you sit there in your false mockery of the word. You have not been in the clutches of anyone, mortal or god alike, and your only defense is to deflect. I can see right through you, woman. Tell me, do you claim your lineage to be that of Atargatis? Perhaps, Aphrodite, if you cannot connect back that far. None of this is hidden, though I’m sure you wish to have cornered us in the very place we call home. Home is not here; it is not this ship. There are many things you have yet to understand, yet baiting you with meager facts is enough to make you attempt to redecorate,” he gave a half smile, examining the crack in the fine wood of the ship. “Have you the gall to take a step onto the land of men? I hadn’t thought so.”

Nathanael shrugged at her comment, watching the blood with as much disinterest as the mermaid had. “I see myself playing the same game as you. You now claim that plenty have been plucked from the grips of the sea much like you have, and perhaps that’s the key to it all. I’d assume that this must be a natural occurrence, from only your word, of course.” He played with the hilt of his knife, thinking over her words for a couple of seconds. Not so much about what he wished to say, but how to deliver them in the simplest way possible so the woman would finally understand, “You are simply a pawn in my final goal, woman. My presence will only be a thorn in your side for a bit longer,” he pulled out his sword when she offered her neck, “And as much as I’d like to see your life flood the floors of my cabin, I can’t say your breathing bothers me quite enough yet.”

Andromeda was somewhat aware of the mortal’s waning sense of wonder in her, and she wasn’t sure if that ought to concern her or comfort her. Certainly she could tell from the way he carried himself and the way the air around him was tainted with the stench of blood on him that she could not see yet somehow still stained him that he was not a man who spent time nor resource on something that bored him. No, it wasn’t whether or not she garnered Nathanael’s attention or not that she questioned, that she could tell quickly. The true question was whether or not she preferred the consequences she would face as result of his lapse in interest or the prolonged suffering of his audience. “If only I were so lucky,” she replied icily, her cold stare unwavering in the wake of his grin.

The sea maiden didn’t feel even fractionally better, though she was sure her counterpart must have known this. Chagrined, she watched him pour from one large vessel into a smaller one and drink from it as he monitored her. She stared back for lack of ability or option of anything better to do, and out of a stubborn unwillingness to back down—the same orneriness that had granted her an audience with him in the first place.

“Then what would you have me know, oh great and formidable god?” Andromeda questioned, her voice both lofty and mocking all at once. “And toward what great gift of life should I dedicate my prayers to you? What idol are you, as man or god, to my bone spliced directly of goddess? If I am not more than you as a simple man, then I am certainly no less than your equal as god. No arrangement places your weight on the scale favorable toward mine.” She paused, feeling ill and weak in the dry setting of the captain’s cabin. “But you seem to think I view our merits all wrong. Tell me then, oh great god,” she implored, voice dripping with contempt, “what it is I ought to know, what oversight flaws my logic. Make a believer out of me.”

The shoreline green of her eyes narrowed when he challenged her experience with the working world of man. Inexperienced though she was, it wasn’t exactly for lack of trying. These attempts to get to know man, to see it up close, smell it and taste it, to at least see it in some real way before dragging it down with her to the darkest depths of the ocean always stood in the way of accomplishment or meaningful interaction. Until now. Livid and miserable as she may be, and feeling sicker and fainter by the moment, she was learning about man.

“And what of my word?” Andromeda challenged. “Do you trust it? Certainly you don’t question it—you’ve heard little more than what I choose to tell you.” The reflection of light in his cabin caught her eyes, glinting off of them with a more brilliant glimmer than that of the light’s reflection on the crafted blade. “I can only assume that this must be an occurrence against your nature,” Andromeda smiled, but it looked like the curling of the lips of an angry dog, purely for the sake of bearing teeth, “on the basis of my emergence striking you like some sudden revelation. Tell me, have you long awaited this day? Have you hoped and hunted? Have you reveled in whiled dreams and fantasy?” She asked the questions as if his suspicion of her species existence was little more than the flight of fancy of some juvenile. “Did you pray that this day might come?”

Andromeda had little energy left within her to give any sort of strong reaction to the fact he intended to reduce her to little more than a playing piece. Certainly there must be a game occurring, between this man and what she could only guess. However, she had managed to get herself roped in nonetheless. She eyed the razor edge of his sword, her head lolling to the side in half fatigue and half coyness. Her eyes dropped to the floor, or rather her tail, though she didn’t notice how the brilliance of her scales reflectiveness and rich color had begun to fade to a dull, lusterless gray. “Woe am I,” she signed in sardonic melodrama when he informed her that he had no current intention to end her life, “poor displaced creature of the sea.”

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

“Greek, good choice. A bit unoriginal, but who am I to judge.” Nathanael didn’t move from where he was standing, leaning slightly against the large desk. He tapped his fingers on his forearm, “Oh good, I get to choose?” His smile was simple, and he met her gaze with no challenge of his own, just outright content. The venom with which she spoke only made the captain feel a bit more smug than he already did. The proud creature obviously had never been in this situation, and he idly wondered how funny it would be to watch her drag herself across the floor with her long tail to try and get to him if she was unchained. “And yet, you still couldn’t drown either of us, could you? Such a shame. You had your chance and yet you still failed to deliver. Pity.”

Nathanael wasn’t sure how much torment he wanted to even give the woman, if that was what he could call her. He was far more interested in her background, and the life they lived drowning men that came too close to the island. He knew she’d never reveal what was on there, even if there was nothing, the false allure of the “temple” wouldn’t fade through time. He was thinking too much about the possibilities that he nearly drowned out the mermaid’s next words.

The resolve that went along with her words just made the captain grin, slowly clapping his hands, “Bravo, creature. Bravo. There is no higher entity than I,” he pushed himself off the desk, making his way towards the windows. The sun was nearly below the horizon, casting an orange glow through the cabin. Nathanael worked his way around his quarters, lighting the different candles to allow light to remain. “I am what they call, a god, am I not? Untouchable, richer than a certain king that claims to rule the world. Though you probably have no idea about all that. Locked in the sea; woe is the mermaid. However else it goes.” Nathanael simply perceived his invincibility by the acts of his own will. He did things the way that no one else had, and even though he would not claim to be an Achilles, he knew he had his own name that would be remembered, even if it wasn’t known yet.

“Tell me, is this normal?” He waved his hand towards her and her tail, gaze lingering on the different colors he had seen glinting beneath the waves just an hour before. “Bleeding. Pain, with the possibility of death? Was there ever one of you that was caught? Or are you the one who will bring shame to your fellow creatures of the sea?” Nathanael’s grin became sinister, one that would rather see death and humiliation than any kind of pain the woman in front of him thought she could unleash upon the captain.

As a man who brought unbelievable destruction to the places he visited, Nathanael’s purpose was still unclear. He had yet to find his immortality, in name alone, naturally, yet he wondered if the mermaid was significant enough to inadvertently help with that. The man had no doubt she was powerful, but to him, that power was obviously limited. Her claims fell on deaf ears, yet he could still feel the allure she gave off from a couple meters away. Simply looking at her was probably enough to send plenty of sailors overboard in hopes of greeting such a creature, but to Nathanael, men and women were equally insignificant. When he looted, he didn’t feel the need to bring a woman with him, much unlike the other sailors aboard his vessel. Present company excluded, none had ever become interesting enough to listen to for more than a moment’s time.

“To let you out of those chains would be an insult to your power,” he stated, pulling out his dagger to start sharpening the edges out of boredom, not so much thinking it to be a statement or promise, “to let you crawl on your stomach like you weren’t some mythological being from the sea. I won’t claim to own you; you’re simply a casualty of war.”

Andromeda refrained from any sort of response on his appraisal of her language selection. To her, by the virtue of some immortal gift, there was no distinction between the languages of the world. Each and every dialect processed the same to the mermaid. It was all Greek to her. Her passive expression shifted to more of a snarl. The burning heat she felt in her chest bled into a fire behind her eyes as well. “I can’t imagine how being particular is of any benefit or loss to me,” she responded, her sweet voice coming out in a curt tone. “The real task lies within surfacing sailors again, a privilege I ensure you won’t be extended.”

Perhaps it might have been to Andromeda’s benefit not to present herself as a formidable challenge to the captain. In fact, she was almost certain it would have been to her benefit to pretend she was weak and harmless: the headstrong, display of power was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. However, it wasn’t her style. She refused to give up a single square inch of the higher standing she might still posses, but it only made his mockery of her wounded pride sting more. When he pointed out her failure to drag a single sailor back down into the depths she had come from it seemed the one slight too many. With incredible strength the sea woman lurched forward. Andromeda was unable to break the chains that bound her to the thick wooden pole, but a loud, cracking noise filled Nathanael’s private captain. A large, dark splice appeared in the woodwork and disappeared when her little show of force was complete and she was pulled back securely in her bondages.

For a fleeting moment, Andromeda’s grin nearly rivaled Nathanael’s own. However, it wasn’t much longer than a split second before the sarcastic laughter erupted at the very notion he was anything more than a mere mortal, let alone a god. “You are not,” she replied suddenly, an anger lingering in her tone. “Indeed, if you rule the world, where is this world you speak of? Folly and absorption are your domain.” She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly displaying that from her perspective he was not only the lesser being, but the prey. “Woe are men with boastful hearts hidden away at sea but too gutless to take the first step onto land.”

Andromeda’s icy gaze dropped along with Nathanael’s gesture. For a moment she was unsure of what he was alluding to. Since the wood had split as a result of her sheet force, a considerably larger pool of blood had formed to one side of her. The blood slowly crept along the floor of the dark room. Andromeda watched it, disinterested. When she had sustained whatever wound was the source of the pool maturing the floor boards she hadn’t so much as flinched. “Everything bleeds but gods,” she answered, grim but unafraid.

Andromeda glanced away coolly, her silken locks cascading in response to her the shift in her vantage point. “You play a dangerous game of self flattery to assume that I am the first of my species to be taken captive,” she responded matter-of-factly. The woman kept her face poised away from the man, but her penetrating eyes reflected some of the candlelight as they settled upon him again. “Tell me, oh wise and powerful god,” Andromeda challenged, “why you think it is that no one has heard that man’s tale? And what of you? How will you safeguard your legendary reputation of godly proportion?”

“Then spare me the misery of your company and claim your relic,” Andromeda half growled, tilting her head back to bare her throat to the man.

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

Nathanael only briefly took note of the different injuries that the mermaid had on her body. He idly wondered how long they’d take to heal, perhaps two weeks at the most. Though it only brought the question of how a mermaid actually healed. He vaguely knew the mysticism surrounding mermaids, and how they dragged unwise and unwary sailors down to the icy depths of the unknown. The rest, Nathanael hadn’t bothered to listen to. He spent most of his pacing with his gaze out the window, every now and then looking back at her long tail and wondering if it hurt having it out of water for so long. Or perhaps the healing only worked while the mermaid was submerged? They were simple questions that Nathanael pondered, ones that really weren’t all that important. He didn’t think such a creature could seem so delicate, and any ounce of doubt Nathanael had was gone with just a simple look.

When his gaze met with Andromeda’s, the only thing that gave away his surprise was the smile that slowly appeared on the captain’s face. Nathanael crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the woman lunged and fought against her chains and bound position. It was somewhat amusing to him, how furious she was with the whole situation. He figured this was something that never happened. After all, their part was to drag men to the underworld, not for men to bring them up top. “I think if you keep pulling, you’ll get there. Maybe try sawing your arm off, it’ll probably help.” Nathanael tapped his fingers on his arm, “On second thought, you should probably stay in one piece. Otherwise it’ll look like it was my fault. Gods forbid.”

“You look a little angry. Is that because of me, or…?” he let the stupid question trail off, before just smiling and sitting on the edge of his desk instead. “Great, now that we have that all covered, do you even understand what I’m saying? It’s Greek, everyone speaks Greek.” Nathanael waited, though he didn’t expect an answer. “No? How about….Egyptian? Latin? Or…what is it those northern fools use…right, English? I’m a little rusty on that one, but I could try it.” He said each word in its respective language, simply studying her face to see if there was any recollection of any of the languages he had offered up.

Nathanael didn’t offer anymore words, simply getting himself some more rum as he listened to her struggles. He knew her gaze never left his figure, and he leaned back against his desk, only glancing over his shoulder at the sun to see it edge closer to the waves of the sea. He then drew his gaze back to Andromeda, drinking down most of his rum out of boredom. He had no issue waiting; and he’d only be slightly disappointed if she never said a word. Otherwise she was alive and sitting there, and that was perfect in his mind. He had a mermaid on his ship, and if that wasn’t a great achievement, he didn’t know what was. The man wasn’t sure if she was more fish than human, and if he had wasted his breath thinking she could actually understand him. Pity if the thing was just an animal. Nathanael wasn’t interested in taming.

#dis not great but the wheels are turning again at least #para #para 01

If the men had been speaking to one another in the boat during Andromeda’s first contact, she hadn’t noticed. In fact, if asked she wouldn’t have been able to remember any dialogue occurring during the communion between herself and the land dwellers. The look of fury on her face masked the fact that she had not expected the crude, barbaric sort to possess any organized language skills, nor the shock that she understood what he told her perfectly. Andromeda made the judgement call not to respond immediately, but to continue to follow him with her icy, pointed gaze.

His audacity vexed her, and she pulled her shoulders forward slightly more, wishing for nothing more than the small mercy of just one strike. Surely that would answer the question he couldn’t be bothered to finish formulating. His words, in their various dialects and languages, fell upon her ears as a singular, cohesive speech. Had the captain not explained in the very speech itself that he was transitioning from one language to the next she never would have known, each word he said equally distinguishable from the last. However, there was an additional communication that the man may not have intended include by the virtue of his multiple modalities of language. Each, according to the way he carried himself, was its own specialized, geographical linguistic method, which meant to her that the places he had been and could very well take her were numerous and the territory expansive.

Patience, as previously evidenced through the vehicle of her capture, was certainly not Andromeda’s virtue. Her chest rose and fell with a building fury, further irritated by her lack of mobility. This man was no fool, but she vowed to herself then that he would be no different than any other mortal imprudent enough to test the wrath of a creature closer in nature to the gods than his own.

“It takes but one arm to drown a man,” Andromeda answered, her voice, while still soft and delicate, dripped with a venomous contempt. “Have you a favorite I ought to spare and with which deliver you to your makers?” Her eyes cut through the man, perhaps not daring him to exhibit any sort of signal whether or not he feared her, but rather displaying the insignificance to her whether he did or not.

Andromeda ignore the aching feeling she felt throughout her body, far more concerned with displaying any sort of power she could over the human before her. To keep her bound the way she was indefinitely was an impossibility. There would come some reason or another to move her, and even the smallest mistake or degree of false security would present exactly the opportunity she would need. It was just a matter of waiting patiently, through pain and present company, for opportunity to strike.

“Your fault,” she repeated, staring on at him stonily. “Anyone judging it as your fault would be tragically amiss. You’ve no stake in this, no right to attach your name. You may have spirited me away, and you may with to claim or appropriate me, but no mortal can claim a higher entity as their own.” She glared at him, the intensity behind her eyes burning stronger as her voice carried toward him with absolute resolve. “I belong to no man.”

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

The moment Andromeda sagged against his chest, Nathanael let out the breath he had been holding as well. The sounds of the chaos seemed to have drifted away with the breeze from the ocean waters, still calm as they made their way back towards his larger ship. Nathanael glanced around at the still waters, letting out a quick huff of exhausted laughter as he rubbed his face with his hand. It seemed to reinforce the idea that the gods didn’t really care what was going on within the world. Here he was, sitting with a creature from the sea on his lap, and all was calm. The captain sat up, being abnormally gentle with the passed out woman as he moved away from behind her. He took a moment to examine her now delicate looking features, a stark contrast to what she had looked like trying to escape his grasp just minutes before.

Nathanael stood up, his muscles burning after straining them against the mermaids. He glanced at his arm, though those wounds were only a small sting of memory compared to what he had accomplished. There were too many possibilities, now. He could give her as a gift to Agamemnon, though he hated that king, and the man knew better than to mess with Nathanael, so he was out of the picture. The captain kept his ideas to himself, thinking whether or not giving her away would even be beneficial.

Elias’ voice cut through Nathanael’s thought process, and he held his hand up towards the deck of his larger ship to tell them to hold. The pulling up of the row boat had ceased, and Nathanael drew his sword and held it out towards Elias, placing the tip underneath the other man’s chin and keeping it there, “You are lucky I don’t cut out your fucking tongue,” he glared at Elias, feeling like he was giving him the small mercy of having this privately and not on the deck in front of everyone else. “Next time you make a mistake like that, you’ll never get the chance to find your brother. I’ll make sure of that,” he pulled his sword back, tugging the rope to give them the signal to continue with pulling them back onboard. “When I figure that out, you’ll be the last to know. She would’ve killed you, you fucking idiot, and yet you sit there acting like I didn’t just save your sorry life. You’d belong to the ocean, though with your stupidity, maybe Poseidon would’ve had mercy on you,” Nathanael simply smiled, hopping out of the boat and standing to the side of it upon reaching the main deck.

Most of the men had crowded around the row boat when they caught the sun gleaming off of Andromeda’s scales. Nathanael let out an irritated sigh, pulling out his sword for a second time and holding it out to stop everyone’s advancement. “Gentleman,” he drawled, “We have a guest. And if any of you think you’ll get a chance to see her up close, well, you’ll just have to wait and find out what will happen to you.”

“But it’a woman! They’s a bad omen f’r ships,” one poor soul had whispered a bit too loud, and most of the men turned in his direction, giving away the source of the comment.

Nathanael turned his gaze onto the man, who looked altogether sheepish and scared. “You know what they say to do in that situation? They say…’throw the woman overboard to calm ye mighty gods o’ the ocean’. Well, we’ll give them someone, won’t we, Elias?” He turned his gaze onto Elias, offering him a smile since this was most likely the last part of whatever kind of punishment he felt his brother deserved. “Throw him overboard, Elias. Poseidon will bless you later,” it was obviously a mockery, and Nathanael motioned towards the sky in a fake blessing. Nathanael knew what would greet the man as he swam towards the shore, and he considered it an offering. One of theirs for one of his. He turned towards the boat, picking up Andromeda bridal style as he made his way towards his cabin. “We sail towards Hispania. Get going.”

He kicked the door shut to his quarters, making his way over towards one of the larger pillars that were in his cabin. Nathanael set Andromeda down on the ground, propping her up against the pillar and letting her tail drape out in front of her. He took a moment to look at her scales, noting the small amount of blood that had remained from when she had splintered the ship. He knew rope wouldn’t hold her, so he went for chains, and if he was morally correct, he would’ve felt guilty about keeping her as a prisoner, yet he had no guilt, and he had not an ounce of fear.

The captain placed her arms behind the pillar, using the chains to loop around the pillar then her wrists, one last one around her midsection before he chained the rest off into a simple knot of chains. Nathanael took a few steps back, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it off to the side. He rolled up his sleeves, examining the marks on his arm and walking over to pour some alcohol on it. He grabbed a cup, moving over to the barrel with water in it and scooping some up. He walked back over to Andromeda, pouring it slowly on top of her head before dumping it all at once, “Rise and shine, mermaid.” He paced back and forth in front of her, waiting until she came back to.

Elias, too, was effectively silenced by the hand Nathanael lifted toward the crew aboard the ship. He knew it meant some sort of punitive action was coming his way. It wasn’t hard to guess as much when he had been the root of such a potentially fatal mistake. Nathanael had a tendency to jump the gun in reaction to even the smallest of misgivings, his glutton for punishment worn plainly on his sleeve. Elias himself had never truly been severely punished, a perk of facilitating a cooperative dynamic with the captain right out of the gate, but he had also never made such a hefty error before either.

The man said nothing in response to Nathanael's suggested potential punishment, fully convinced that doing so would be taken as a challenge to the captain to do exactly that. Aside from a hard swallow and the hard flexing of his jaw as he kept his chin tilted upward in the position that Nathanael's blade forced him into, Elias gave no other reaction than signaling to the captain he was listening by locking eyes with Nathanael for the course of the tense interaction. Elias only looked away when Nathanael made a comment on his lost brother and withdrew his blade from the flesh of Elias' throat. He tried not to resent Nathanael for only remembering his plight to rescue his brother when it was a convenient weapon against him.

Elias remained in the smaller vessel, towering over Andromeda's much smaller figure while Nathanael made his display of power to the crew. He steeled his expression against the threatening joke Nathanael made of forcing crew members overboard, simply maintaining his position as an extension of his superior's power assertion that the mermaid's presence wasn't for them to see, question, or touch her. He was half convinced that given one free arm the sweet looking little sea monster would lure them a single inch too close and make sure for herself there was little left of any man for Nathanael to punish himself. But better to let any fool unwise enough to try meet that untimely fate on their own, otherwise he might presently meet his own for talking over his captain. He mad no move to fulfill the captain's orders until Nathanael bad broken away, assuredly to self-gloat and fixate over his new treasure.

Andromeda was infinitely more easy to control in her current, unconscious weight. Though sleek and small in comparison the bulky, muscled captain, her body was lean and her deadweight was heavy. Still, without the thrashing and scratching and pulling, positioning her just as he pleased was no difficult feat.

Even as the man positioned and chained the mermaid, she showed no signs of rousing. The contusions on her neck grew darker, like a violent violet and blue collar, and the reddened skin on her wrists looks more raw and irritated against the chains binding her to the tall pillar. Even when Nathanael doused her with water she still didn't move an inch. It was several minutes after Nathanael had begun to pace the cabin floor that it became apparent she was in a woken state. She hadn't moved a muscle, so much as twitched her great, glistening tail that caught every slight illumination from the candle light in the sleeping quarters. The only change was that her fierce, pale green eyes had opened. She was watching his every movement, tracking him with only the slightest shift of her gaze through the sheets of her golden hair, now dried from the sea and falling about her like rippling waves of silk.

The very second she noted Nathanael's gaze locking with hers she tried to lunge at him, despite the fact she was strategically bound to the thick, stable pillar. She did little but provoke the chains to grate at her skin, but she was too angry to note the way some scratched at her soft skin and how others came together and pinched at her. The first attempt, obviously botched, didn’t deter her. She tried again, this time given the small encouragement of a buckling, splintering sound coming from the wood. She wanted nothing more than to tear the man before her apart, piece by piece, and obviously he must have anticipated it.

Amazingly, her rage was in to way deterred by her immobility. Though she didn't exactly strike up much of a conversation, she yelled out at him furiously in her third attempt to break from the pillar, this time using the force of her tail. She slammed it hard to the ground of the captain's private cabin, pulling herself with it's lean muscle to try and gain some sort of leverage. It didn't manage to help move her forward much, a number of lustrous scales breaking from her tail and scattering about her body, followed by a dark smear of blood seeming to be the only result of her efforts. She glared at him, face lit with anger and teeth gnashed together. She was breathing hard from the effort she was putting forth, either accepting she was defeated or regaining energy to strike again, and refused to break her infuriated gaze as her chest heaved with desperate frustration. She'd be damned before she cried in front of him, but a tinge of fear was beginning to bleed into her outraged features as well.

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

Nathanael had figured his little situation would erupt into chaos the moment he lunged for the creature. The thrill was too much for the captain to pass up, and the riches would be way beyond the time and difficulty it would take to essentially “steal” away a mermaid from the island. Maybe the temple had something in it, maybe it did not. Nathanael could care less about what was hidden within the island, though he figured it would’ve been worth the fight to get to. However, why pass up the first gift from the gods when she basically offered herself to him? The man wouldn’t understand it just yet, though his hand in helping his own fate along was something he would eventually come to despise.

The whole thing escalated quite quickly, though that was to be assumed seeing how he basically manhandled the mermaid into the boat beside him. Nathanael would usually glare at Elias for the use of his first name in front of such a creature, especially since he only allowed his brother of a sorts to ever use his actual name. To him, that name meant a power over a person, and that was the last thing he needed in his oh so difficult life. The struggle of the mermaid was something Nathanael expected, though he didn’t want to crush her windpipe or hurt her too much with his arm locked around her neck. He didn’t care for her comfort, he just simply cared about how she looked when he managed to get her back onto his ship. He could feel the sharp pain of when she dug into his arm, though it didn’t do much to phase him. He tried sitting up a bit straighter, using his overall body weight and size compared to that of the mermaid’s to limit her movements.

The slam of her tail against the ship sent him and his possession off balance once more, and he could hear the splintering wood of the rowboat. “For fuck’s sake, Elias, do you want to drown here?” he yelled at the other man, more furious that they had paused in their little escape. Though when Andromeda leaned forward, Nathanael felt himself yanked towards the water by the force of the two new mermaids that had suddenly appeared from the icy depths of the water. He would’ve focused more on them, but he had already decided that neither would be up to par with what he – literally – had in his grasp. When Elias slammed the dagger into one of the new sea woman’s wrists, Nathanael’s look mirrored the one that Andromeda was currently sporting when he looked at his friend.

Nathanael could only watch as Elias gave the dagger deftly to Andromeda, and he couldn’t wait to think of the things he was going to do to Elias when they got back to the ship for that kind of failure. His hand shot out to grab Andromeda’s wrist with the dagger, basically stiff arming her to keep it at a far enough distance away. He wrapped his legs around Andromeda, hoping to pin her twisting and writhing body down. He couldn’t do much to the other mermaid, instead focused on the one pinned to his own body. Nathanael couldn’t reach his sword, stuck between the wood and his side. He instead simply pressed harder against her neck, hoping that since she was fine to breathe air, she’d have a difficulty without it. “Goodnight, witch.”

Though Elias genuinely felt he was doing his best under the current, chaotic circumstances he tried to focus more clearly on the task at hand than the impromptu battled that had begun around him. In truth, he wanted no role in the abduction of the sea woman. But he was around my Nathanael’s good grace, and he wasn’t about to let himself fall out of it now. From what he had heard through various legends and lore was of course consistently contradictory, but in some legends it was said that mermaids were in possession of mystical qualities, some of which would immeasurably help him recover his brother. If this was the price he had to pay to access a creature with such abilities he would have to commit himself to it now, and pray for the mercy of the gods later.

Mercy, however, seemed to be a completely foreign concept to the volatile third passenger in their small boat. Nathanael’s vice grip on her only seemed to grow stronger, and he restrained her more strategically than before. Andromeda pushed and pulled at the offending arm with a new level of desperation, only one hand free now to try and release his choke hold on her. Then, suddenly, the grip her sister had on her was released. Andromeda had been glancing around to try and discover what had happened to her second sister when she noticed the dagger held out in offering—obviously not to her, but she managed to take it more quickly than the barbarian who had twined himself around her neck.

Before she had a chance to bury the blade into his flesh, she felt the burn of his rough grip on the tender skin of her wrist, raw from where her counterpart’s firmly locked holds had tried to free her. With every ounce of force Andromeda had left within her she attempted to rip her arm free of his hold, a small yell of gruff force departing from her—though even that sounded feminine and soft and nearly melodic. Andromeda could feel herself weakening. The brute had cut off her hair supply, and the sea, only inches away, was too far to effectively provide her oxygen either. Her vision began to blur around the edges and the sound of her own ragged, desperate attempts for breath sounded far away. The only things she felt was the intense pressure in her head and chest, the beat of her heart in her ears, and that forceful arm pressed hard against the base of her throat.

Perhaps in the same moment that the passengers in the retreating row boats became aware that with the plan of robbing the island temple having been abandoned the sirens abandoned their own task of defending it against the unwelcome intruders, so was so too did Andromeda. No one was coming for her who didn’t already have her firmly within their grasp. In one last ditch attempt to liberate herself, Andromeda reached out for the dagger with her other hand, the oxygen depletion making ti so that she saw her arm as little more than a shadowy blur. And then nothing but black.

The dagger clattered against the bottom of the small boat that Elias was fiercely rowing back toward the ship, and every movement of the golden haired mermaid, from the most intense thrashing to the minutest twitch, stilled. The arm that Nathanael had had to grapple with to keep both it and the blade far from his person slacked in his grip, her tail sagged, and her head drew back gently from his ensnaring arm and ultimately rested against his chest.

Elias secured the smaller boat by the considerably larger side of the ship, keeping a steadfast grip to keep the two close enough. He wasn’t sure if it was really necessary to say anything, or if Nathanael would know better than to ask for Elias’ further assistant to bring the unconscious creature aboard. He had a strict rule of not removing anything from the sea that didn’t want to leave it—and this situation certainly applied. He had already compromised his stance against violence with injustice intentions behind it, and the guilt began to tear at him as he observed how small the half human creature looked in Nathanael’s possession. Despite the violent display she had just put on, she looked young and as she slept, if that’s what one could call it, she looked unquestionably innocent. Had the bruises on her neck and arms, already deep shades of violet and blue, not been there even superstitious Elias wouldn’t have suspected her capable of putting up any sort of a fight, and despite them he found himself pitying whatever unfortunate fate Nathanael would deliver for her.

“What exactly are you planning to do with her?” Elias questioned, both aware that the consequences of speaking up would be two fold. Nathanael was angry over the dagger, he was sure of that, and by speaking and calling attention to himself Elias’ punishment was sure to be doled out quickly. Secondly, since Nathanael was more a raw nerve now than his general self, there might be a lashing out and accusation of insubordination, but Elias took the risk anyhow.

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

Nathanael wasn’t sure what was more exciting; the fact that Elias was standing next to him and nervous, or the fact that they were so close to finding something amazing. Little did he know that his greatest catch was watching them a few meters away. He glanced at Elias, looking him over for a few silent seconds, “You that scared you can no longer speak?” he asked, not expecting an answer this time as he shook his head and looked away, his hand resting on the long dagger that rested on his belt. The pirate wasn’t too worried, but the eerie silence just made the sound of Andromeda’s purposeful splashing louder. He tilted his head to the side, able to distinguish the sound of Elias’ rowing from the new one that sounded within the foggy waters.

He finally looked down at Elias once he realized his friend had stopped rowing. The captain refrained from making a joke about him finally coming to his senses in favor of watching the water. “Did I tell you to fucking stop?” he grumbled, though he didn’t say anything once he finally got a glimpse of what was in the water. At first he wondered if it was simply some crude kind of waking dream; seeing a woman anywhere near the water was simply unheard of in these days. It took him a few moments to realize it was a motherfucking mermaid, and the barest hint of a feral smile appeared on Nathanael’s face.

The pirate didn’t want to believe it at first, until he realized Elias was staring at the same thing he was. She looked innocent, though he knew better. It would surprise him if his sidekick even reacted, and by the way Elias was staring, he figured nothing would be happening for the next few moments. Nathanael was practically giddy with excitement. It was something straight out of the stories. He’d heard Homer and his nonsense every now and then, but it was different to see one standing – or in this case, floating – in front of someone. Let alone live to tell the tale. That was exactly what Nathanael planned on doing, surviving this semi-altercation. Island be damned, he wanted the woman. The sea-witch was there for the taking, and gods knew what he could do with her when he dragged her back to the ship.

Nathanael didn’t move much when she glanced at him, and he was enthralled with the colors that meshed together and gleamed from her long tail. Obviously the woman could breathe out of water, and that’s all that counted, right? He debated on simply taking a scale or ten and then hightailing it out of there, by why only take a piece when he could take the whole package. As beautiful as she was enchanting, there was only so much time they had if those old stories were even remotely true. He whispered something in Greek the same moment he drew his dagger. She was hesitating, and he figured it was because Elias didn’t even look dangerous despite the fact that the man was a giant. Hesitation was always his chance, and he definitely wasn’t going to miss out on this one.

It was difficult trying to keep the boat balanced, but he lunged for Andromeda anyway, making the split decision that he was simply going to keep her, locking his forearm around her neck and falling back so she would be pulled from the water. Nathanael didn’t want to think about how much power rested within her mermaid tail, and it only obligated him to hold her back against his chest tighter as he drew his sword, “Elias, row back to the fucking ship. Now. We’re having a guest this evening. And do it with some urgency!” he hissed, already knowing that if there was a higher power watching over this creature, he wasn’t going to stick around to find out about it. Her struggling kept Nathanael moving, and it took most of his balance not to topple the row boat over.

#another real long one but i think there's more for you to work with here?#hopefully?#para #para 01

Elias lifted his eyes from the waters surrounding their small row boat, a small and relatively unimpressive lifeline when the mythos and lore of the island was factored in. His expression was serious, but not particularly bothered. He knew to expect as much from Nathanael at this point. "Scared, no," he half grunted, sculling the boat with what had now become highly practiced skill. "Though I doubt caution and close attention would be imprudent in our current predicament." He was vaguely convinced that Nathanael shared the opinion he had just voiced, his eyes scanning from one side of their small vessel to the other noticing his commander's hand resting on the weapon. Elias silenced himself when he noticed the look on Nathanael's face, a look of focused attention no one dared interrupt without risking severe punishment, and tightened up his technique to reduce and back splash or other noise that might interfere with Nathanael's observations. He tried to see for himself whatever it was that had garnered so much of Nathanael's focus, and it was about this time that he ceased rowing altogether.

"Nathanael," Elias cut in. His tone wasn't scolding but it held the watered down authority of someone, perhaps the role of an older brother, concerned that some grand event was about to be overlooked. "Do you see it?" His eyes skimmed the water's uneven surface, following the distorted dark figure lurking beneath. It drew closer, and without earnestly realizing it, it was drawing both he and his attention in. The boat tilted heavily to one side along with Elias' body weight as he stared straight back at this creature ascended from the deep. Her beauty was otherworldly, and though he knew better than to be lured into false security and complacency by beautiful things, he was far too captivated to think about anything.

The mermaid tilted her head slightly, her penetrating gaze suddenly shifting into a perplexed expression. Slowly, her eyes shifted to Nathanael at the same pace in which his wolfish, hungry smile warped his features. There was no questioning the moral value of this man. Andromeda felt a cold, heavy weight upon her chest the moment she met his eyes. No, not a band soul, but one that was corrupted, infected, corroded... Again, her ambition had gotten the best of her. He would have been the chosen mark of anyone even fractionally wiser than herself. His sudden shift in intentions, unclear but somehow palpable to Andromeda, painted the scene in her head much darker than before. Should she strike first? Or should she quickly break away from the boat and wait for her sisters? By the time she even began to feel either instinct, the captain had made up his mind.

There was a suddenly frenzied, chain reaction of movement the moment that Nathanael lunged for the siren. In the very same moment she saw him begin to spring toward her, she pushed off the edge of the boat to propel herself away. The force of her shove sent Elias, already precariously balanced as he studied her in awe, off kilter as he fell flat on his back onto the bottom of the rowing boat, which rocked violently this way and then the other. The boat nearly capsized once Nathanael felt backwards into it, much more forcefully than Elias' fall, and with the added weight of the mermaid as well. She was small, but every slim part of her lean.

Andromeda shoved hard against his chest, thrashing her tail violently, but managed little progress aside from turning herself around. In front of her spanned the fog and mixed grays and blues of the sea, slowly fading into the slate, charcoal coastline where the mist didn't distort the coastline entirely. She was not meant to be in this boat with this man, and she fought against him so hard it was sure that that point was being made clearly to he as well. Her nails, hard as that of any sea monster, dug at the arms that snared her easily cutting through both fabric and flesh. She tried to rise off of him, the effort straining her muscles and bruising her neck where she pushed against the collar of his arms. She brought her tail down with immense force against the side of the boat. Like small plates of armor, the scales of her tail acted as reinforcements, splintering the side of the ship. Damage to her tail and fins were minimal, though a stream of blood began to settle in the plating of her scales where fragments of wood had penetrated between the scales and wounded her.

Sharp, spiny structures raised from her torso, tail and arms when she noticed Elias desperately attempting to follow Nathanael's orders and take hold of the oars to row back in spite of all the chaos. One of the spines of her tail caught Elias across the forehead, another she shoulder and yet another just grazed his hands. Far too shallow of lacerations for Andromeda's satisfaction, they did begin to slowly ooze blood. She dug her claws deeper into her capture's arms, hoping the pain and shock of the puncture wounds would cause him to release her. Just as soon as Elias managed to begin sculling again and get the boat moving, Andromeda suddenly released her digging grip, outstretching her arms before her. Almost within the same instant, two other sea women burst above the surface, grasping Andromeda's arms and pulling her back with incredible force. She felt her arms were burning as if they were fire, and taking breath was impossible, pulled crudely against the sailor's strong-armed grip around her neck.

Deftly, Elias snatched the dagger out of Nathanael's hand, lodging it deep into the wrist of one of the mermaids trying to extract Andromeda. He had to keep a firm grip on the dagger not to lose it to the depths below as the mermaid pulled off in the shock of the wound. It was only ocne the mermaid was no longer visible above the surface that he caught sight of Andromeda's horrified expression of the act of violence just committed against her peer, and the reality of what her abduction may hold for her. Trying to push it from his mind, Elias quickly held the dagger back out for Nathanael to take, leaving it to him to defend himself against the second mermaid trying to pull their captive back into the sea. It was only when he lifted his head to check his surroundings while rowing with all the force and intensity he could muster back to the ship that he became aware he'd passed the blade off to the mermaid than Nathanael by mistake.

κατάρα του ωκεανού || Para 01

What happens on top of the ocean is what goes down in history, and what lies beneath simply remains a mythological happening that gets written off as a work of the gods. Those were the only words Nathanael ever really thought about every now and then, and the rest of the “advice” people had tried to give him when he was a young boy was simply pushed to the side. He was a pirate; never in anyone’s debt and always in someone’s way. He had managed to piss off a kingdom in the far country of Spain one too many times, enough to send a large fleet of ships after him, in the hopes of killing him and bringing all his wealth back to the king. Nathanael wasn’t an idiot, and as far as he was concerned, he might as well be a myth among half of the kingdom’s throughout the Mediterranean. He was definitely one to brag, but most of the time he didn’t need to. Pirates had their strange curses and myths, including the usual ones about the man-eating women of the sea, never sailing on the day of the god’s, and how those with auburn hair would doom others. Nathanael took pride in the fact that his sun-bleached hair already looked red with the sun beating down on them daily. Needless to say, they feared him, and it wasn’t for nothing or lack of stories, that was for certain.

He liked to think of himself as the king of the sea anyway (the humble man he was). He “ruled” with fear, and he always like to start the new month by cutting off the left hand of some poor soul that they had captured simply to torture and kick off the ship during the calmest ocean tides. Nathanael hardly let anyone on the ship now and days, only if they were to be killed and kicked off immediately. He was on a new kind of mission, only barely reminding himself that he had promised Elias, his one and only trusted companion, which was probably too much to give him anyway, to help him search for whatever that thing was he had been looking for. Nathanael figured if he thought long and hard he’d remember what Elias wanted, but now, he wasn’t in the mood to even care.

Nathanael didn’t care if the others were worried about the curse of the new “island” they were approaching, it was just one of the many things that made the man roll his eyes. The gods were dead, in his opinion. The last time he had mentioned his opinion on their ever watching deities, an oracle had attempted to convince him that there was more to his life and “destiny” than he cared to know. When the island came into view, he could basically hear the hush that fell over his crew and the ship. Nathanael of course took this as his cue, making his way down from the quarter deck to the main deck, slapping Elias on the back as he did so. “What are you standing around for? We have shit to do, Elias,” he smiled, glancing at the few men that were attempting to say some kind of prayer to the gods. Nathanael looked at Elias, or the “quartermaster”, as most of the crew liked to think of him as, “Watch the ship, won’t you?” he smirked, walking away and towards one of smaller row boats. He knew Elias would follow him anyway, he had simply said that to act all high and mighty, though that was a normal thing among him and Elias.

The island was said to have held one of the many temples to one of the many goddesses within the Greek religion, and Nathanael couldn’t bring himself to have paid attention enough to remember which goddess specifically the island supposedly held an altar for. All he had heard was “temple”, and that led him to believe that the island would’ve held onto some kind of myth or aura that would’ve drawn the correct people to it to leave some valuable things there. Ever the patient one, Nathanael snapped at one of the men to hurry the fuck up, as if they didn’t have any daylight left. He picked up his sword, tossing another to Elias and leaving the other men to fend for themselves as they eventually got onto the smaller boat. Nathanael stood with his arms crossed, staying silent instead of snapping orders like he normally did.

The pirate had heard the stories: ships disappearing, whole crews going missing. “You believe that the gods are watching, Elias?” he asked, his voice staying nearly as quiet as the sound of the crashing waves against the rocks on the island ahead of them. The question was one he asked Elias often, always awaiting the day that the answer would be something different, or even awe inspiring. “This should simply prove them dead.”