Timber creaked and bellowed as the ship suffered on the beach-edge, its keel stove in by a partially submerged rock. With each new wave lapping alongside its hull the ship teetered, at risk of breaking apart and being carried out to sea. It was only a matter of time, eventually the tides would turn and the ship would be lost like half its crew out to sea. Strangely, it was late morning and there was hardly a cloud in the sky, with clear conditions one would think the captain was a fool to lose his ship in such a fashion. However, one aboard her had made a grievous error just a few hours previously in port, and so they had not made it past the first leg of their journey.

It was a small thing really, a lewd remark, unwanted hands. Something the majority of women who live and work in port towns understand, and while they may not be fond of the men who abuse them they understand the realities of their situation. However, to anger this woman was a mistake, one that had cost over twenty lives and could cost many more as the shouts and curses of the crew faded into the dense vegetation at the end of the beach. Only one man had failed to emerge from the stricken ship thus far, and that man had a reckoning coming.

Anna remained half submerged herself a stones-throw from the hull of the ship, off to starboard. She peered at the ship with hateful eyes, having allowed some of the crew to escape with their lives there was one still that would not be so lucky. Only her shoulders and head were visible above the water, her dark-red hair glistening and her pale face furrowed in concentrated anger. Tugged at by the waves, the frayed wedding dress adorning her body billowed beneath her, somewhat exaggerating her diminutive size. She wore her anger well.

Booze. The sea. Treasure. Women. These were all things that The First Mate had come to love, though not necessarily in that order. They were things he was constantly chasing, searching before, or traveling on. Earlier he had been in the company of all four, and what a grand celebration it had been. At least, he was fairly sure it had been grand, he didn't exactly remember the details, though he had woken up with two lasses on each arm in the large galley that he had procured earlier in the weak.

The unfortunate part had been not that he woke up, but how he had woken up. Wood creaking and groaning, the ship tossing and turning and the sharp pain of his face smacking the floor or... had it been the ceiling? He couldn't remember. What he did remember was the feeling of the warm water as the ship broke around him. He hadn't been sure exactly what happened, only that they had stopped moving.

–

The First Mate had done his best to get topside, but a broken mast blocked his exit. Cursing like pirate, not a bloody sailor, he reached out his will to the water he stood knee deep in. With an effort of will he used the water to shatter the starboard side of the ship, light poured in and he let out a cry of pain. Hangovers were a bitch.

He dropped from the hole a moment later, landing in knee deep water. He belted on the weapons he had been carrying and stood standing there for a moment in nothing but his britches and a sword-belt, left hand covering his eyes as he gazed around, trying to make sense out of all of this confusion.

“Which one of ye bloody idiots ran'er aground!?” He screamed, stomping in the water for extra effect as he headed towards dry land so that he could properly assess the damage. “Which one of ye sank the... the...” He looked to the side of the ship where its name was clearly visible. Yet, he couldn't read it, though he knew the second half of the named started with a P.

“Sunk... the P ship!?” Clearly it hadn't registered to The First Mate that much of his crew was likely dead, or were running off behind. That, or he simply didn't care to notice as he waved his arms about and continue to scream incoherent swear-words at any and everything.

Anna looked on as the ship ruptured in front of her, wood splintering and a small hole appearing from which a man was expelled into the Ocean. Her stormy eyes narrowed as the source for her most recent campaign of destruction and indiscriminate drowning splashing around in the Sea only a short distance away. She glided through the water, an unnatural movement that betrayed her supernatural status, and quickly placed herself within comfortable speaking and killing distance to the man. Her approach had gone unnoticed as the man reached the beach and began to swear profusely. The Wraith floated in the sea, about forty feet from shore and in line with the man, waiting patiently.

When it became apparent the man was more interested in swearing at his useless crew, she roughly seized a cresting wave and lengthened its break, dropping it in the vicinity of the man in a shoulder-height blast of water that could knock a grown man off his feet. There was no danger to the assault, it was merely her way of getting the target of her anger’s attention before she gave him a piece of her mind, and then murdered him.

“You!” She yelled, pointing one accusing finger at First Mate, only her upper body visible as she remained strangely stationary in the moving waters around her. She slowly began to move towards shore as she waited for him to take notice of her.

Cursing could have very well been something else The First Mate enjoyed nearly as much as booze, the sea, women and treasure. He hadn't slowed down in the slightest and even when there was no-one to curse at he did not stop, he merely invented words to add to his already colorful repertoire of insults. To him, it was merely another form of motivation.

“... and another thing you whoresons! I'll take me widdlin' knife and carve your back-side so it's as ugly as your front-side. AND I DON'T EVEN GOT A WIDDLIN' KNIFE!!!” He took the extra effort to reach down for a handful of sand and throw it in no particular direction.

It was when he turned to yell at the ship that he was met with a very large abundance of water. He had only the time to blink for the warm salty water dropped him to his rear and soak him once again from head to toe. It did manage something else as well, it got him to shut up.

He sat there a moment, extremely confused, when he heard a womens voice from near the ship. He looked up, water dripping from his hair and face. He took a moment to look around and then point to himself, though he said nothing, merely sat there in his own wetness, sand clinging to him everywhere. Everywhere!

“How dare you lay your hands on me you disgusting pirate.” Anna accused First Mate from twenty feet out into the sea. Her Irish brogue, usually light and lilting in a barely there sort of way, came out in full force as she cursed the sodden man sat down at the waters-edge. She was still submerged up past her waist, which made for a strange sight as she stood in her frayed white dress berating the sailor in front of her. “You had no right, no one does, not anymore.” Her left hand went unconsciously to grab her neck as her right continued to point at him, shaking as her anger flowed through her. She wasn’t screeching as such, but she was definitely working her way up to it as her voice raised and grew more grating with each word.

Though it was pretty clear what the woman’s problem with First Mate was, if he remembered the misdemeanour was really uncertain. Anna was not the sort of woman a man would forget, provided he had the choice, but enough drink could knock the visage of an angel out of someone’s mind. Her rage was such that the waves around her broke with growing ferocity, almost as if a storm was brewing. In actuality, her spiritual energy was suffusing itself with her element, her emotion feeding itself into the sea.

“You’ll suffer before you drown!”

The First Mate saw the women standing waist deep in the ocean, unmoving against the waves. Perhaps if The First Mate were a logical man he would have put two and two together and realized that the water had come from her. He stared at her from his seated position, he took in what he could see and damn was she gorgeous.

He dimly registered that her mouth was moving but for the life of him he couldn’t care enough to focus, she was luckily he had even looked at her face for a moment because his eyes quickly lingered down to sample the more savory parts of his body. He licked his lips, a challenge!

“Come now Love.” He said doing his best to brush the sand off of his body. He flashed his most charming smile, the same smile that had swooned wenches from coast to coast for years. “I’d love to lay my hands on ye again, but perhaps you should buy me a drink first?”

Clearly he hadn’t listened to a word Anna said, his mind had twisted the words and picked out specific ones, twisted them and then filled the gaps. “Of course as ye can see that my ship is well…” He gestured to it and frowned. “… It’s momentarily delayed. But don’t you worry, there are a whole fleet of ships ripe for the picking. Perhaps I’ll even name one after yerself?”

He smiled at his own cleverness, this soaking wet women was as good as his. He walked towards the water, a hand extended. “Come, let’s get you out of that dress and find something more suitable for you.”

“I’m going to kill you now.” Anna said in a somewhat dreamy manner, as if the man’s responses had driven her far past the level of reasonable anger. It was a little disconcerting, watching her go from perfectly understandable rage to complete contentment in the knowledge that she was about to murder a man. Still, she allowed both her arms to fall into the water around her as the focal point of her hatred approached, her hands splaying as she remained eerily still amongst turbulent water. She took a single step closer to the man, separating them by no more than fifteen feet.

Her eyes were unreadable as she regarded the fearless way he approached her. To her mind the man had to be either the bravest or most idiotic she had ever encountered. No matter though, he would die like any other, of that she was assured. Her hands splashed forth from the waist high water around her, and as if attached by strings the liquid followed her movements and rose up snakelike from the surface. They short forth from her outstretched hands like hounds, hurtling towards the unknowing sailor with lethal intent.

As the twin streams of water approached him they dipped low, though not by much as the man naturally held slightly higher ground. In one smooth movement they sought to pass him on either side of his body and wrap around the backs of his legs, hooking him and dragging his feet out from under him, potentially dropping him on his back at the water’s edge.

Kill me? The First Mate heard her words, but the process in which it took to register was far too long. Why would a beautiful women want to kill the most handsome of pirates to grace the seas? His head cocked to the side and he regarded the women again.

“When you say kill, do you mean literally or this bedroom talk for … WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL!!?” The First Mate scrambled back in the sand, falling backwards onto his elbows as he tried to get away from the watery tendrils of water. “Ok… ok… I take it back, ye don’t have to buy me a drink!” He screeched as the water tendrils wrapped around the back of his legs.

“WATER KRAKEN!!” He shouted as he felt the pressure tighten around both of his legs. In a state of panic he reached a hand out towards the ship and what debris was in the water. He focused for a moment and willed the water under the debris to explode outward. The attack wasn’t overly accurate or powerful, but it would send several wooden boards, pieces of crates and waves of water against the attractive water lady. He was clearly panicking.

Attacking a Water Wraith with water, an audacious plan. Though stealth was certainly out of the question, Anna was still surprised as she felt water her spirit had infused manipulated against her will. Her gaze jumped from the man she had seized, and dragged to the ground, to her left side, as the explosive pressure burst forth and debris was launched into the air, some of it even likely to land in her general vicinity. Surprise gave way to instinct, her left arm raising to protect herself like any helpless human, abandoning the tendril around the Pirate to splash against the sand. As she unconsciously defended herself the water leapt to her aid, jumping into the path of flying debris with reckless abandon, her attention was divided between the assault on her person, the surprisingly revelation that the water was not only her ally, and the tendril still wrapped around First Mate’s left leg.

The grip loosened a little as she protected herself, perhaps enough for First Mate to escape without his limb being snapped in two if he took the opportunity. Anna was far more concerned with her own safety to worry about him for the moment. Debris splashed all around her, but she remained unharmed as everything settled as it should, and her gaze shot towards the beach with new interest.

Sometimes panicking works. That, or The First Mate was just an incredibly lucky person. What he would call his incredibly tactical diversion worked like a charm. The falling debris had stolen just enough of the gorgeous womens attention to allow him to painfully get his foot out of what he dubbed the water kraken's grip. Had he been wearing his boots he wasn't sure he could have gotten free. As it was he was sure that he might of twisted his ankle just a bit.

“Alright, alright ye wench” He said holding up his hands and patting the air as he stood up. “None of that hit yea did it? I'd hate to damage the goods.” Once again, despite his predicament his eyes failed to fall on the women's face. “Now, don't ye think yer taking this killing me thing a bit too seriously?

As he spoke The First Mate was focusing, his hands were up patting the air, but his left was just cocked to the side slightly he had seen a rather large piece of drift wood, if he could get the angle right he would knock this watery tart out with one aimed blow, he just needed time to focus and get his fear under control.

Anna had fixed the man with an intense glare, her expression one of mingled outrage and curiosity, an interesting mix. Despite her bedraggled appearance her natural beauty had apparently besotted the man, something the Water Wraith found confusing. On the one hand the woman’s mind retained some semblance of its life behind the wall of emotion, and understood the situation. However, the spirit that had possessed her had no real understanding of humans, hence the mixed feelings of anger and curiosity.

That being said, the man wasn’t doing himself any favours.

As he stood, the tendril of water lurking low on his left side suddenly made its presence known as Anna once again concentrated on the man. She lashed her right hand across her body aggressively and the tendril leapt to her command, driving up and across to likely sweep into the man’s left hip, the end of the tendril shooting a good five feet behind him to make simply backing up an unlikely prospect. The force of her strike could easily send him sprawling into the sand again, bruised and battered by the seemingly rock-hard liquid. It was as if she attempted to slap the man aside with a brushing of her hand, and to some extent that was just what she did.

The First Mate was known for many things, attention to detail was not one of them. His attention was split between savoring he sight of the women before him and the debris in the water. He couldn't pay attention to such important details such as what was in his immediate vicinity. Besides, in his mind, he was about save this women from the most dangerous mistake in her life!

Turning down someone as charming and handsome as himself!

He turned his hand slightly, he didn't want to impale her with any jagged ends of the board. So he would just turn it slightly and.... loose concentration as he was literally picked up off of his feet and sent through the air, and rolling across the sand. To his luck he had tried to intake air to let out a very manly scream, but instead got a breath of fine sand in his lungs. He started hacking up a lung before his rolling movement came to a stop.

"By the gods women..." He spat between coughing, on his hands and knees spitting out sand. "...perhaps you misunderstand the meaning of four play?" He yelled out as he got back onto wobbly feet, this time he withdrew his saber and main-gauche. "I ain't one to hurt a pretty lass, if ye were a man I'd keel haul ya." He spit again.

No ribs had been broken, but all of them on his left side were bruised. He was in pain to be sure. "Now, why don't we stop all this nonsense 'afore I'm forced to give ye a crimson smile, yea?"

“Will you scream before you die?” Anna asked him quite seriously, the tendril of water whipping back and forth in mid-air off to his left as he regained his feet. “You’ll need more than a sword for that.”

Her left hand splayed outwards as her right traced the movements of the tendril, almost as if conducting a symphony. The delicate fingers of her outstretched hand curled inwards and she lifted her palm, clenching her hand into a fist. At her command the water-logged sand beneath the pirate’s feet popped outwards and then washed away, creating two small sink holes directly underneath where he stood. Simultaneously, the watery tendril lurched towards Anna and when it separated the two of them it swung back to strike the man on his front as he hopefully became entrapped by the sink holes with the same sweeping motion as before.

Despite his callous words and momentary thoughts of murder The First Mate wasn't actually sure he could kill a women. Sure, he was fully capable of ordering someone else to do it, or even pushing one off the plank and leaving her on an island. All these were things he had done before, but striking one with his sword? He lowered the tips of his weapons slightly, he had his doubts.

“Yer a real creepy one lass...” He said with the shake of his head. When Anna began moving her hands, The First Mate began running, or at least started. He pressed off with his left foot and by he time he turned and set down his right he found himself off balance and his left foot entrapped by the sand, he pitched forwards, hands out wide so as to not cut himself.

He had unknowingly saved himself from the watery tendril that swooshed over his head. Had he been standing, or even raised up slightly, it would have thrown him back and likely broke his now fully sprained ankle.

He tugged with his leg the best he could and scarlet flashed before his eyes, pain laced up his left foot and tears welled up.. It was certainly broken now, and to make matters worse he was not yet completely free. Knowing he would only have a moment before that watery tendril reversed its course to likely smash him into the sand.

Anna strode forward, though what should have been a slow stride was in fact more of a gliding motion as her lower body was still submerged in water. The Pirate was hurt, scrabbling through the sand before her, and she wanted to see the pain on his face. The tendril whipped back and forth above him, growing in density as droplets from the surroundings joined Anna’s deadly elemental weapon. Anna took her first bare-footed step on the sand just six feet from the downed man, the breaking waves swirling around her ankles.

It was difficult to keep maintaining two grips at once, so the lock on his feet had to be released for her to concentrate on the tendril. She released him as he stood there looking down on him, out of range of any hasty sword strikes so long as he was on the ground injured.

“Well, how does it feel, to be at the mercy of another?” She asked him suddenly, her eyes grey and haunted.

Well, The First Mate was thankful that he wasn't smashed instantly and it seemed that the girl was one of those types that enjoyed a good monologue. That was certainly good for The First Mate as he tried to work out a way out of this. His normal trump card, using the water to his advantage was completely dwarfed by the women’s own ability to manipulate water.

He felt the sands grip completely release on his foot, which was good, though he was sure that it would swell to the size of a small coconut in no time at all. Running on it would be possible, but very painful. Pushing himself to his hands and knees he looked up to her and flashed a defying smile.

“Well love, this isn’t the usual chains and rope I’m used to.” He flashed her a wink and pulled his injured foot from the sink hole, grunting in pain as he did. “But if yer into the watery tentacle thing I’d be willing to give it a go.”

“Now why don’t ya com’on over here and The First Mate’ll get ye out yer dress?” He puckered his lips as if giving her a kiss and then gave her his sexiest smile. If he was going to die, he’d do it on his terms at least, talking the whole time.

Too soon, he wasn’t begging yet.

“Damn you and your disgusting remarks, I’ll have you beg you pathetic man.” Anna was probably taking a strategically unsound amount of time insulting the man or otherwise toying with him. Still, as of yet he’d really posed no threat against her, and the Wraith had no reason to suspect he was about to become formidable all of a sudden. As she spat out the last word her right hand dropped down and then shot forward in that same backhanded sweeping motion. The tendril obeyed its master, following her hand and curling around in mid-air to slam towards the man’s upper torso with enough force to knock him backwards. It probably wouldn’t do much more than bruise him on contact, Anna was being especially careful to show him she could throw him around, but not placing him in a position where he could be killed by accident.

Considering he was kneeling in front of her, escaping was an unlikely prospect, so Anna took no real precautions for him evading the strike or attacking her directly.

He thought for sure that the women would use her watery tentacle and end him right there, yet she did not. Her words gave him some insight as to why though, she wanted him to beg? That train of thought was actually something The First Mate understood all too well. There many pirates in the seas that wanted the satisfaction of breaking a man down, having him beg before killing him. The First Mate always attributed it to a bit of an ego, but the women before him he wasn’t sure.

“Beg? Now yer startin’ to come ‘round!” He said with a laugh, though it sounded more like a croak. His eyes widened as that tentacle came swinging towards him again. On his knees there wasn’t much he could do. What he did was draw his left hand back, the one holding his main-gauche and sling it at the women just before he was toppled back by the tendril. It lacked power he knew, she was toying with him.

“Finally, four play!” He croaked on his back, groaning and holding his chest with his left hand, while his right still held his saber out to his side. He looked up into the sky. Yea, he was going to die of that he was sure.

The weapon he had thrown surely hadn’t been meant for it and it was a heavier weapon to boot, used for blocking blades. There was a very, very small chance it could sink in like some throwing dagger and be lethal, they weren’t very far apart. What was more likely to happen, he realized, is that if it hit her it could leave a bruise or small cut and likely simply piss her off. He looked on the bright-side though, he would be defiant till the very end.

He picked his head up to look and see if anything came of throwin it and if the watery tendril was still there to continue giving him his whooping.

Anna shrugged backwards and screeched as the parrying dagger slammed into her lower torso, round about where her kidney should have been. Rather than seeing the immediate growing mark of red that should have heralded her near immediate death however, it seemed as if more water simply spouted from the wound. The tendril poised to strike at the captain splashed onto the sand, forgotten as Anna removed the offending object from her body with a cry and launched it into the sand with disdain. She looked away from her torso, hatred in her eyes, as she caught sight of the sprawled captain staring back at her. There was a nasty tear in her dress and water poured from the area like blood, the wound behind the deluge hidden by its ferocity. Then, like someone had turned off the faucet, it petered out, leaving only smooth skin in its place.

“You loathsome man!” Anna screamed at him, picking up where she left off as she thrust out her left hand palm forward, causing a rut in the sand beneath her all the way to her target. In an explosion of sand and liquid she sent a great torrent of water splashing at the pirate, it was not unlike blasting him with a riot hose and the effects would likely be similar.