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TwilightMoonDragon

Shadows: Whisper | Assassin's Creed

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(Alright. Well a lot happened while I was at school. Thanks? xd.png)

 

Abe paused a little. She didn't particularly want to follow them down. But after they'd left and she deliberated with herself, she went down, only to see Poppy on top of Garrett and Garrett then refusing her. Clearly her throat loudly to make her presence known, she pursed her lips and scratched the back of her head. "Did you forget about the third person you invited down here?" Her voice was full to the brim with challenge and it was painfully apparent that she was seething with rage. "Heidi," Abe started, knowing how the use of her actual name would make a statement in and of itself, "I want you to know that I am not your friend. I'm nobody's friend." Taking a long pause, she stared Poppy down seriously, not batting an eyelash. "I'm people's colleague. I'm people's partner. I'm people's protector. But these things are not earned lightly. Keep that in mind." With that, she took the bottles of vodka in her hand and walked away with it, taking long swigs as she walked to her own bunk in silence except for the foreboding sound of her boots on the hollow floor below.

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((I had a sub... so... Yeah.

Got ninja'd.))

 

Poppy sat in silence a moment before saying, "No. I am sorry. I was using you... I'm... It was stupid." She let her head fall a little when she said, "It didn't even involve you." Abe came down and she shot bolt right. She was blithering on about not being her friend. Poppy didn't have friends. No one was her friend. Whether she liked it that way or not she had none. She met her gaze with anger, evident in her face, eyes locked. "Bah, go hump your little ginger and leave the rest of us alone." She spat as she walked away. She turned to Garrett and said, sternly, "You should go." She didn't even bother to stay and wait for him. She stormed off. Where she was going she had no idea, since they were sailing and the boat was only so big. She hadn't invited Abe down, she'd invited Garrett down. Someone said something to her, she didn't even catch it, and she slammed her fist into his jaw without breaking stride.

 

Cullen sat in the nest until he thought he saw a bend in the cove's underwater wall. "Ho! Cave below!" He shouted down, hands gripping the wooden edges of his vantage point. He grabbed a rope and slid down, making use of his hookblade to prevent splitting his hands. "Cap'n." He called to Ceto. "Port side, I think we have somewhere to start looking!" He moved off to the railing to get a better look, and lo and behold, he saw a gap in the wall. The size was questionable.

Edited by Dusset

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Ceto

 

The woman was still near Theresa when Cullen shouted from the crow's nest. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she peered up at him and frowned. They had to start... searching! Was one of the Pieces literally right under their noses? Ceto followed Cullen and looked over the railing. Sure enough there was a hole there, but she couldn't tell how big it was due to the water. "Lower thediving bell! Who wants to go first?"

 

[sadly, bed. :C]

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Poppy looked up when Ceto called for the bell. "I'll do it." She said curtly, walking up. Anger was still plain on her face and the best way to avoid Abigail was to go underwater. "Besides, no better swimmer on deck. Not even you." She have Ceto a wry smile when she said that. She very well knew the captain could out swim her but she was nearly as good. Like Ceto, she'd spent a good deal of her life a pirate. Unlike Ceto, majority of her life had been spent a noble, and swimming was not a skill she needed in that life. "Where's the brass coffin, anyways?" Might as well be. If something went South under there, might as well call the diver dead. Luckily they were in a bay, but it was a cave, and that made it a bit more dangerous.

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Ceto

 

Ceto glanced up at Poppy, returning her grin. The woman always loved to tease her, especially claiming that she was better than her at such things. The diving bell was within reach, and Ceto grinned and smacked the side of the huge bell. When she had learned that the pirates swam at the bottom of the ocean, she wondered how the pirates prevented themselves from drowning. But then she tried it. One would grab onto the bell and sink to the bottom of the ocean. The bell would have air inside of it, so one would be able to drink a bit of air before swimming. Then someone would throw barrels with rocks to the end end of the barrel, providing more air for the person. "I have to challenge you to that statement. But not before you get that Piece of Eden." she chuckled and set her hands on her hips. Poppy was full of herself. Even Castiel said that she was a fish in water. Like the swiftest minnow. She laughed and clapped her on the shoulder, walking away and picking up a bottle of whisky.

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Poppy grinned and had two sailors help her lift the thing to the plank. She steadied herself and git under the bell, taking it's whole weight by herself, and walked off the edge. Suddenly she was surrounded by water and the smell of salt was stronger than ever. The water was cold, and it's icy fingers pulled at her with every step. She'd gotten a look at where the cave was, and that was necessary, because the little slit of glass she had was hard to see through. It wasn't exactly like this thing had lights. So she plodded forward, step by slow step. She almost tripped once but righted herself fast enough. This wasn't exactly her ideal way to spend a day. Once she was sure she was in the cave, she thought of lighting a match, but knew it would burn up her available oxygen. What was she looking for anyways?

 

((Should she find it? Or... Well... Not? And we can move on.))

 

Cullen had little productive to do so he went below deck. He thought about taking a nap but knew he'd never fall asleep before they were on the move again. So he sought out Abigail, who wasn't at her cannons. That was the most[/] likely place she'd have been, but it turned out false. So he strolled about, not finding her, until he moved to her room. He was a bit jealous of her personal quarters (the man above him snored vigorously). Knocking he called, "Abe?" No plans were swirling around in his head but perhaps she'd be doing something interesting? Better than standing around waiting for Poppy to surface.

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Stark shifted his weight from foot to foot. Ceto was sending someone down in the diving bell. He didn't agree with it. In fact, he didn't agree with anything that Ceto had decided. Least of all this crazy boat idea. But, this was her choice. He never piped up about it, he didn't have to follow her. He could have stayed home. No he couldn't. He didn't know anyone else there. Ceto was all he had. Even if she was temperamental and hard to deal with on a good day, she was still his... Well she had been his mentor for some time. Now she was his captain. And, yet again, Ceto outranked him. Stark walked silently towards her, noting the whiskey in her hand. His face twisted into a sneer as he walked up on her. He motioned towards the bottle in her hand.

 

"Do you think that, maybe, you ought to save the drinking for a later time tonight? To celebrate the return of your crew, maybe? Or maybe you should just go dry. Y'know, it's not that difficult to stay sober for a little bit, Ceto."

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Abe heard the knock at her door and rolled her eyes. "Aye! Door's open." Taking another gulp of the vodka she'd taken from Poppy, she snorted as she went over the events in her head. censorkip.gif*, she thought to herself angrily. It's one thing to mess with the nobodies, but you'd better have some serious balls to try to win over the most naive and innocent man on the ship with your body. Honestly! This girl... I won't allow it! You know? Garrett's too innocent to be corrupted so...blatantly... So sinfully. No! It's wrong to stand by. Besides, I promised to myself that he was just too sheltered to be taken like that. It'd be one thing if she'd changed, but that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Besides, it's obvious that she's got an issue with her head to do something like that. It's revolting! Of course, her face was twisted up into one of intense hatred and scorn, but her thoughts were silent and there was low probability of her ever sharing them besides what she'd made clear to both Poppy and Garrett in her little speech from before.

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Cullen opened the door and walked in, seeing Abigail draining a bottle of vodka, anger painted on her face like a red X. "What did I miss?" He asked, shutting the door behind him. "Looks loike somethin' crawled up 'ye caboose and nested." He joked, reverting to comfortable English. "What 'appened? Somebody scratch a cannon?" He jested, but he figured her anger was genuine. It just seemed like the best way to diffuse it, or at least he hoped. Pulling up a chair, he sat in it backwards, facing her, so that his arms rested on the backrest. Seeing Abigail angry wasn't exactly an uncommon sight, since in the time traveling to France, he'd seen someone mess with her artillery. God forbid he be on the other side of that.

 

As she stumbled her way on the floor of the cave, Poppy found that the bell became heavier. And heavier. And it wasn't her. No, she was surfacing... But where? After another ten minutes of coming up what was actually a light hill in the floor of the cave, she suddenly had a new supply of fresh air, as opposed to her thinning supply she had. Dropping the bell, Poppy found herself in a cave, at least a proper one that someone might expect. It had sand on the floor and and served as an air pocket. She rationalized that that was why, if it was, anything was hidden down there. Searching around, she found nothing until she flopped on her butt in anger, landing on what felt solid. Upon inspection, it was a crate. Well, a chest. How quaint, she thought. Pirates finding a chest. Digging it out to the best of her ability, she cracked it open to find a small bounty. Smiling wide, she shoved hand fulls into pockets until she had to lose some to stand. There was more down there, but she couldn't carry the bell and the loot. So she grabbed the brass and headed back out.

Once she was back out the cave, she dropped the bell and swam up. "Oy! Found some stuff! Valuables! To heavy to carry myself!"

Edited by Dusset

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[should she? They could be lucky and find it and next time they don't?]

 

Ceto

 

Ceto drank deeply from her bottle, the whisky's sharp bite crawling down her throat. She knew that Poppy would find it. Ceto didn't know if the sailor had Eagle Vision, but the woman should try it if she was able to. The captain of the Sista Viska glanced around. Everyone was doing what they were supposed to. Garrett was helping someone tie some ropes, and she turned to see that the railings were nice and smoothed. Good. He was a hard worker. Naive, innocent, and a little dull, but a hard worker and his loyalties set in place. Suddenly, someone stalked up to her and spoke. Ah, what a familiar voice! She turned to Stark, grinning broadly. "Better to be wasted than to be sober. Makes everything seem happier and perkier." she laughed and took another swig from the whisky bottle. "You need to lay back a bit more, Stark. Get drunk. Have a few women. Maybe all at once." suddenly, Poppy's voice sounded, and she perked. "Men! Help Miss Poppy with the treasure!"

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Stark scowled at Ceto's response. She was impossible. Of course she knew that she ought to stop drinking- how could anyone hope to lead well when they were too drunken to do a thing correct? His back had stiffened when she remarked that he ought to be more laid back. Just as he was about to sound off in response to her, Poppy came up from the water. Saved by the bell, Stark turned his attention from Ceto's comment to Poppy's apparent discovery.

 

He grinned. Maybe Ceto was a drunkard, and maybe he didn't like being stuck on a boat, but if they were finding some form of treasure that meant that they must be doing something correct. Stark stiffened at Ceto's command. His face settled into an all too familiar scowl and he set his jaw. There was no way he was going to get that close to the edge. And as second mate, he figured he could take a step back from the order and let some other men answer. Stark shifted back behind Ceto, out of her view. His blonde hair had recently been cut short, back to the length that he liked. He'd left his cloak inside, hating to wear it out where the salty seawater could lap at it. The sun beat relentlessly against his black tunic, so in a fairly swift movement, he removed the top. His pale German skin was sure to get burnt by the sun eventually, why not get used to it now?

 

((I think, yes. That way we can all see Ceto rage and moan the second time they look for it.))

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Two men jumped in to assist Poppy. She neglected the bell and told them to just swim it. Once she resurfaced in the cave, she led them to the chest and they grabbed it between them. As soon as they were back, someone threw down a rope and the chest was tied on, letting it be pulled up, and then a ladder for the three. The German woman crawled back on deck with thick pockets and a grin on her face. But as soon as she sat down to rest, she started to shiver. Damnit. Her clothes were soaked through, of course, but she wanted to see what as int he chest. Eagle Vision hadn't occurred to her, since she was more swept up in the loot rather than the Piece of Eden. Shakily, she stood by and waited for the good captain to pry it open, having taken what she wanted. A finder's fee, if you would.

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Ceto

 

The whole crew seemed to be excited for the treasure to be revealed. Captain Ceto walked to the front line and crossed her arms. The chest seemed to be heavy and large enough, but not large enough to hold a Sword or Staff. Ceto grinned, raising her leg and bringing it down on the lid of the chest. Grinning, she looked at everyone. "Well, look what we have here! A big, fat chest spilling with loot. Isn't that just great?" she laughed, her voice booming over the sound of the pirates' chatter. Removing her foot, she knelt down and opened the chest again. Bottles of rum, gold, and... Something else. Ceto looked down at the Piece she had found, the familiar round Piece that they had all known from the time of Ezio. She raised the Apple, grinning. "Victory for the Brotherhood!" she said, and most of the crew shouted in pride. But Ceto knew that using the Apple was dangerous. Tucking it into her pocket, she pulled what seemed like a thin gold head banned dappled with rubies. Placing it on her head, she marched up to Stark and grinned. "Look! I'm the Princess of France!" she laughed, making up the title.

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In spite of himself, Stark found himself smiling at Ceto's jest. He let himself chuckle, allowing the happiness of the crew to spread to him at last. His eyes danced over the treasure. This is what they were here for. The tales of riches on the high seas weren't entirely false. Ceto looked ridiculous, the men's hopes were up, they'd found a Piece, and it looked like everything was going in their favor. If the rest of the journey went this well, they'd be done in no time. Stark smirked at Ceto and bowed.

 

"Well, greetings m'lady! We hope that the ship is up to your undoubtedly high standards! May I be of service to you?" He sneered sarcastically. Thinking for a moment, Stark realized his mistake. He held up a finger lightly to her lips to keep her from speaking. Quickly, he snatched his hand back- he wouldn't put it past Ceto to bite him. "Don't answer that question. It was entirely rhetorical. I don't want to know if there's anything I can do to help you." He rolled his eyes. "Oy! Nice find, Poppy."

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"Danke." Thanks, Poppy said to her countryman. "It'd be sweeter if I was warm. Wanna give me that cape 'till I dry out?" She didn't want to go change. She didn't trust a single one out of the lot to put down her treasures for a second. Not until she could get to her safe. Then she'd be set. Then she could relax knowing her bounty was safe. She didn't get any more or any less than the crew, but when she did, she had to be careful. Assassins onboard might not steal from a fellow brother or sister, but pirates, pirates like Roberts. People like him were slippery when wet. And on a boat, everything gets wet. She sat up a little straighter and crossed her legs, letting arms remain crossed, as well. "That is, if the sir so cares." She said, properly and with a hint of withdrawal that comes from nobility.

Edited by Dusset

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The familiar word touched Stark's ears and just a little bit too close to his heart. His attention was instantly, and completely, directed on the German woman nearby. It had been a long time since he'd heard that language. The sounds reminded him of a time he would have preferred to leave buried in his memory for a while. He swallowed back his irritation at the influx of unpleasant memories and forced a smile at Poppy. Stark flipped his tunic over his shoulder and nodded at her. "Of course. I've left it on my bed though. Follow me," He didn't stop to see if the woman would follow him before he headed inside of the boat. At the moment, he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to lend his cloak to her. The memories of home had brought out a more... unpleasant side.

 

Stark's father had been a large, bearded, brute of a man. He had nothing but bad memories of the man. Beatings, alcohol, and a general air of disdain... His father hadn't been the kind of man Stark could get along with. As he struggled with his inner demons, he scolded himself. Having bad memories was no reason to treat another improperly. He grabbed the cloak up off of his bed, and paused to fold his tunic. "Here is the cloak,"

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((My God. Stark is a frikkin male Poppy.

Except... Well... She murdered her father...))

 

Poppy got up and followed the man to his bed. Hah! She thought. She was following a man to bed and wasn't even going to lay in it. This was new territory. Once they arrived, he handed the cloak to her and she immediately swept it up. Pulling it over her shoulders, she smiled. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't know he had this big thing. Okay, it might not be that big, but Poppy stood only maybe a inch or two above Ceto, who was short. It was perfect. It hid her figure, which showed her bulge-y pockets, and it was warm. "I owe you one." She said, slugging his shoulder. "I need to get me one of these. This dinky little cape doesn't help much. Even if it's lined with fur. It's more of a style thing, really." She pulled it tight and added, "I'll get this back to you, don't worry about it. You'll have it by tonight. I'll even clean it up."

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"Right," Stark muttered stiffly. This expression of camaraderie was unexpected. Or, maybe not so much unexpected as it was uncomfortable for him. "It's a good cloak. Very common, no one ever suspects my true nature when I wear it out in the streets," Maybe the woman had hoped for him to speak to her in German, to show some sort of happiness that there was another person like herself on board the ship. If that's what she had wanted, she would have been much better off staying wherever she had come from.

 

Stark pursed his lips against the questions he wanted to ask. Where had this woman come from and what was her story? It wasn't often he met a German. Even less common was the moment when he had to speak with another German. His eyes traveled over her. Her mannerisms suggested that she wasn't from the streets as he was. Noble, or maybe even just a noble's servant. His mouth opened to ask her where she came from, but he snapped it shut quickly.

 

"Shut the door on your way out," He muttered as he slipped past her, walking speedily towards the exit.

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Ceto

 

Ceto would have bit Stark's finger, if he hadn't moved it so quickly. She glared at him and marched back to the chest, where she took other things. She took a few rings and necklaces, and made sure that the apple was still in her coat pocket. She heard it whisper things to her. It had such a sweet voice...

When she was done hoarding, she trudged back to her cabin and dumped her things into her chest. The Apple followed her necklaces and jewels, and the chest was closed and locked tightly with her key. She tucked the key in whatever cleavage she had, and marched back out onto the deck. The winds were strong, the air smelled right...

"Sail away!" she ordered, gripping the wheel tightly and grinning as the ship took flight. The ocean was so blue that day. It reflected the blue of the sky.

It was only a few moments before they were in open seas. The sea lapped wildly against the Sista Viska, yet the beautiful ship plowed through the water and bobbed on the waves at full sail as if nothing. Ceto stood, chest out and proud of her ship and crew, gripping her wheel... Yes, this was the life. Ceto was born near the sea. It was what she was meant to do... Being a captain and all.

Suddenly, there was a ship to their right, sailing comfortably on the waves. Ceto let go of her wheel to take out her spyglass, stretching it out so she could see what was on board. Many bundles of silk and tapestry, and rum as well. That could be sold, as well as drunk. "Ship to the right!" she called. "She's large, and has many cannons. We will make up for what we don't have with speed. Prepare for impact!" she shouted, turning the ship and speeding up behind it. Within moments, there was a loud crack as the two ships collided, the Sista Viska's ram causing damage already. The other ship, which she identified as the Lance pulled away, drifting around her ship and beginning to take aim.

"Take cover!" she called as the roar of cannons sounded, ducking herself. She felt the ship tremble as it was struck by the cannon balls. "Aim the cannons! Prepare the swivels!" she screeched.

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((Guess no Moose today. Moving on.))

 

Cullen bid farewell and came out in time to see the wonder of the apple. Oh... Wow. He hadn't thought he'd ever get to see it. But as Ceto called to sail, he scrambled to the Crow's nest. When she called to strike, and rammed the ship into the Lance, he drew his bow. Archaic in design compared to the crossbow, and in the wrong hands, not as accurate, but a deadly weapon nonetheless. He aimed a shot but didn't take it. He waited. He calmed his breathe. He got into a zen state that even monks couldn't sneeze at and...

 

*Zzzzzeeeeoooooooooopow*

 

He loosed two arrows into the other ship's navigator's chest. The second came so fast that it landed only a second after the first. Even on the rocking boat, elevated into the air where the wind blew, he made the shots with such accuracy that he almost admired his work. But he couldn't. What good Christian could admire such a deed? Such a murder. He couldn't. But prayers would come later. Prayers would come for those souls he released from their bodies after his own no longer had a chance to do so. Such is the life of an assassin. No time to pause, simply need to kill or be killed. That's what he continued to do. Most shots, however, went to incapacitate.

 

--

 

Roberts was half way into preparing a stew when he heard the crash of the hulls. Oh yes... Good times. He secured the pots and pans he had in front of him and rushed up deck. He drew his rapiers and clashed them together in empty challenge. They had to take another swing-around before he could board. Oh... His blades would drink blood today. Now that they were drawn, it was going to be done one way or another. He wasn't interested in the treasure they found. Well, that was a lie. He bet dimes to dollars it was his loot at some point in his own career. But now he worked for Ceto. She had his allegiance until she stopped paying him. As long as he got his share, he could care less how much they found or plundered. His black eyes scanned the other boat, looking for future lifeless bodies.

 

--

 

Cloak held tight, Poppy stayed beneath deck. She would fight, but she had other business to take care of. Now that everyone was off, she could get to her safe. She slinked across the floor and removed a wall panel on one the room dividers. She reached in and down and removed a locked box, which she deposited her newly found treasure in. Once it was locked again, which mind you, involved three different cast iron locks, she hid the keys on her body. Placing the safe in the wall and the fixing the panel back into place, it would be like she'd never been here. She hoped to a God she barely believed in that no one saw her doing suspicious things below deck like this as she scampered off towards the stars that led above.

 

((There, super-posted and opened all three characters for interaction at y'all's discretion.))

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Theresa

 

Theresa quietly worried. They found the Apple? Well, maybe there was more than one but... Ceto didn't have the capacity to keep herself from stealing. Theresa had common sense, was sober since birth, and knew how to think things through. She deserved the apple. No, Theresa loved Ceto like a sister, and there would be more. More... valuable artifacts than the apple. Yes, she could wait, corner Ceto and make a convincing argument then. For now, she focused on drawing her dagger and cutlass, each forged for her upon her apprenticeship. The cutlass almost looked too clean for how old it was, too dark for the woman who fancied tea and dresses, and far too sharp for the amount of use. Those watching could almost see her slide into the polite rage she inherited, the quiet way she shunned the enemy and dehumanized them. Her lips twitched upward in excitement and blood lust. "Charge!" she cried, tucking away her dagger for a moment to use a gun to try and strike the crew of the other ship first. In shot shot a man fell, and the others backed away. A woman with a gun? She was skilled and elegant with her gun shots, never using more than needed.

 

Mary

 

Mary waited along the railing. She plucked a few gold coins from the chest, but put them away quickly. This would likely mean her life if she wasn't careful. She had to make it up to Robb somehow anyway. She hoped that she hadn't mentioned too much of her life before the ship. He would only lose all respect for her. Even so, if that laugh was directed at her... she almost wouldn't mind hearing it again. Well, if she could just stay sober, then she could make sure her home and friends didn't repeat themselves. History was going to change. For once, she was going to fight for coin instead of steal or... 'dance'. She looked up when Ceto called for the cannons to be ready. She was going to fight, and she liked that. Maybe this time, she wouldn't have to be the damsel in distress. Maybe this time -well, if Robb fought and she doubted that he would- she could save him. That would make them both even. This plan was perfect and fool proof.

Edited by RainDash

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Ceto

 

Already some of the men on the other ship began to fall. The navigator, as one could tell from his colors, got two arrows into his chest. Ceto grinned, the roar of the cannons sounding again, this time from their side. Abe had exceptional aim, and the Lance lolled lazily on the water as the side was torn to bits. It was time to board. "Garrett, Tomas, bring the ship close!" she screamed out the command over the sounds of screeching men.

"Aye, cap'n!" Garrett answered, taking a rope with a large hook at the edge of it and walking to the edge of the ship. Spinning it above his head for a second, he threw it, the hook firmly latching on to the opposite ship's railing. Tomas, a strong cabinboy, followed suite. The two brought the ship close, until the two ships rubbed against each other.

"Attack!" Ceto shouted, unsheathing her two scimitars and rushing on board. The crew, obviously French, scrambled away from the enemy captain as she marched toward them. Ceto's scimitars shone in the sunlight, and she grinned as one man screamed something and ran toward her, sword in one hand. In an instant, she ran him through, the warm blood pouring over her hands as he shuddered on her sword. She threw him to the side, leaving him to die in a pool of his own blood.

 

[Will post as the others later.]

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As soon as the boats touched, Roberts ran at the rails and vaulted them without touching them. He rolled, even in his age, and held out his rapiers. Two men charged him and he parried both. As the men fought for their lives and their cargo, Roberts laughed. It unnerved them, he could tell. He ran one through and dueled with the second until he dropped his sword. Roberts only laughed more and ran him through the eye. He might not cut, but the points on his swords were a needle. Sliding them out, he shot a third in the leg and walked over as he fell, stomping his life out of his eyes until they glazed over. He was in his element. This was why he sailed a pirate. A free man with nothing to lose and everything to gain. He loved the sea. One or two men dodged him and went around, and he laughed almost hysterically. "Will no one face me!? Does no Frenchman have the manhood!?"

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Castiel

 

Castiel boomed with laughter. The man loved to fight, and loved to kill. He allowed for the deep anger and rage to rise in him. Yes, this was an amazing feeling, all of the bloodlust that was rising in him. Grinning more, he flew over the edge of the railing, bounding over to an enemy. It was a young boy, with a small blade. Probably a cabin boy. His warhammers gleamed in the sun, and the boy screamed as his head was smashed in. Sure, he would feel a little guilt afterwards, but... Now was his moment. Another man rushed up to him, screaming something in his native language. "You killed him!" the man sobbed, "You killed Pierre!"

The man seemed close to the boy he had killed, but Castiel grinned anyway. "And now you follow him. " he hissed, swinging one of his warhammers to sweep the man off of his feet. The pirate screamed again and was silenced as the two weapons fell on him, one on his chest and the other on his groin. The man did not speak again. Castiel snorted, straightening and locking onto another enemy.

 

Garrett

 

Garrett didn't like fighting. Not when they were killing innocents like this. Garrett slunk on board, focused on getting the treasure. He avoided the bloodshed that was focused to the middle of the ship and slunk below deck. No one was down there. That would be easy. Almost too easy... Garrett unsheathed his scimitar and prowled through the barracks and the back of the ship. Which was difficult for him. He was not tall, but his body was very heavy and strong. Being quiet was a feat in itself.

Garrett had finally wormed his way to the back of the ship, where theh stored the loot. Grinning, he went through the treasure. Silks and carpets and rum, a little bit of gold. This would be useful. They could sell it.

Suddenly, he heard something behind him, and he turned in time to see a man with a sword coming at him. The sword was wet with something, but Garrett didn't want to find out. Dodging, he swung his sword at the man, only to have it parried. The two dodged and blocked for what seemed like hours in a deadly dance. However, every dance had its end. Garrett found an opening, and drove the scimitar through the man's lung. The assassin grinned in victory, but not for long. The enemy slashed his stomach, and the bite was much more painful than he imagined. As the man wheezed and died, he smiled. Garrett didn't know why until he felt weak. Oh God... it was poison.

Garrett sank to his knees, feeling the liquid fire course through his veins. He slumped over the floor, trying to keep himself from screaming. He hoped someone would come. Then again, they would probably take the loot and leave. Who would want to rescue him anyway?

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The battle began swiftly. Stark grimaced. This had never been his preferred style. Killing innocents just for what they had... He wouldn't be a part of the bloodshed. He stood back on their ship, Sista Viska, watching the battle with a frown plastered to his face. The sounds of men yelling their battle cries, followed all too soon by the sound of their dying breath filled the sea air. Stark hated this part of his job. But you didn't have to come. Surely there was another person that you could have found. Ceto isn't the only Assassin in the world. He scolded himself. Truth be known, Stark found it terribly difficult to trust other people. The fact that he'd come to trust Ceto had him clinging to her desperately for security.

 

Though he wanted nothing more than to go below deck and skulk in his quarters, Stark knew he had to take part in the battle as well. The Lance and the Sista Viska were hull to hull, and the majority of the available crew members had already boarded the merchant vessel. Stark launched himself over the railing, hoping to grab hold of the other vessel's railing. However, he'd misjudged the distance, and found himself scrabbling against the side of the ship. He slid down the side of the Lance, searching desperately for a handhold.

 

Terror took hold of him, and adrenaline rushed through his veins. How could he have been so foolish? Stark never misjudged distances on land! The boats must have moved apart before the jump. By a stroke of luck, or blessing from some divine, his hands found a porthole. Stark came to a particularly jarring stop, nearly wrenching his hands from the porthole. The air left his lungs as he thudded against the side of the ship. "Never again. Leavin' this censorkip.gif to the men," He muttered angrily as he pulled himself into the lower deck. This was just another time that Stark found himself thanking his mother for his genes. Thin and tall, he was made for this kind of work.

 

He glanced around the room he'd landed in, hand on his weapon. Nothing appeared to be hostile. The room had silk and other items. It was certainly a merchant vessel. Stark cursed Ceto under his breath as he stood up. How could she so callously disregard these men's lives? Unsure of what had attracted his attention there, Stark noticed a young man and the body of one of the merchants. It was Garrett, the carpenter. He'd gotten himself hurt already? With only one man as an adversary? Stark scowled and stalked to the man's side. "Garrett! What are you doing down here?" He hissed, eyes not on the man, but the stairway. "Grab some of this gold and let's get out of here."

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