@mnkee -
Well, Sirena certainly is putting her
talents to good use. While some may think that Édouard's men would
hate to work under a woman, the crew seems entirely eager to hear Sirena's proposal. They've been working under a moron for ages, after all, so even working for a woman must seem like a good deal. There are some nods and murmurs of agreement at her words, yet none of them pledge allegiance to Mad Eyes. None of them respond directly to Sirena's words. Instead, almost every head is turned towards the second in command, the quartermaster of their ship, Édouard's right hand man. It is unspoken but clear that the crew is loyal to him, rather than to Édouard. If he accepts the proposal, then they'll go with Sirena. If not, then they won't. It's that simple.
Harlianne James
Location: Main Deck of
the Bellona - Port of Tortuga Docks
Alice smiled slightly as the Captain undid any and all pieces of bondage for Jon, as well as handing her the papers to the man. Or rather, he attempted to. Alice stared at them blankly as her minder accepted them instead, looking as frustrated with Alice as Millicent was curious. There was an odd strength to her minder as well, with the knowledge of hardship and the world showing in her eyes. The entire situation just appeared to be curiouser and curiouser. Why would the Honorable Alice Blackwood be in a place such as Tortuga?
Alice, of course, seemed to be the picture of innocence as she snatched Jon's papers from her minder, her eyes widening in horror as she looked over the details. "Oh heavens..." she muttered, before looking up at Jon apologetically. "Good sir, I have no designs for you. Please, attend to this woman's father and you may have these papers to possess yourself." And while it wasn't clear, Alice wasn't trying to extort or blackmail him. She had an earnest glimmer in her eyes.
"Such a barbaric institution," Alice mumbled, though her voice was not quiet at all. The Viscount's only daughter then walked idly back towards the Bellona, with Harlianne having overheard her final remarks. Of course, that only wouldn't have been an issue had the slave traders not heard it as well. And with the young Alice Blackwood appearing to be a meek and rich woman, without any defenses, she'd be an easy mark.
"Blackwood, right, cost o' protection is one 'undred pounds. Includes yor mates for an extra twenty five," Harlianne called out, moving down from the Bellona and stopping just a few feet above the ground.
"Yer just insulted a slaver in Tortuga, right, girl. Yor've got no guards 'ere, no forts ter run ter, nothin'. It won't end pretty." Her minder, of course, only returned a glare to the female pirate. "Miss Blackwood does not need any additional protection." Her voice was strong and determined, with the woman's words even implying that the peer already
had some sort of guard with her. And true to Harlianne's words, of course, the slavers were continuing to eye Alice, with darkness in their hearts and consuming their minds.
Aravis Zacharia
Location:
the King's Arm - Port of Tortuga
Anna's punch doesn't connect with the man, hardly even grazing him. There's not a single scratch. Of course, aiming a punch and grabbing a mug isn't an easy thing to do at once, so it's to be expected. Her mug smashes over the man's head, the shards cutting into his head and causing him to bleed badly - as in, get to a doctor
soon or you won't be alive tomorrow. Of course, the shards cut into Anna's hands as well, though she's lucky that they missed any veins, the cuts are extensive. It'll be a lot of pain, even for a woman with nine fingers.
"Bitch! Whore!" the man shouted angrily, attempting to rise to his feet but he couldn't see. His own blood was blinding him as it dripped and slid down his forehead, blocking his eyes almost as effectively as a blindfold would. But with Anna in such close quarters with him, he swung his fist upwards, clocking the woman in the neck. Her head snaps back slightly, the feeling of the punch vibrating throughout her jaw. Combined with her bleeding hands, this isn't fun at all.
"Who da hell do yer think ye are, cunt?" the man growled, pausing in his attack for the moment as he pressed his hand up against the gashes on his head in an effort to stop the bleeding.
"I couldn't agree more," Aravis said to her friend, wincing slightly as she saw the extent of the damage the two had done to each other. His friends were surprisingly calm, clapping the man on the back after he decked Anna in the jaw, pushing through the head wound. The rest of the tavern was drunk and merry, a few people staring at the scene that was unfolding, but it hadn't become a full blown barroom brawl. Not yet, anyways.
Aravis drew her cutlass and nodded at Elissa, seeing that the pair of them had a moment of opportunity. No one had yet noticed the two girls about to jump into the fray and Aravis intended to keep it that way. A clean strike would hopefully break up things, or at least, enough for the girl to escape with her head held high. She was already certain that Elissa would decide to go with the girl, a fact that broke her heart as she missed spending time with her dear friend, but it couldn't be helped. Some people just had the sea in their blood.
Édouard Riviere
Location: Misty Mire - Port of Tortuga
Édouard frowned at the lack of response. The witch did have odd habits and customs, she was a witch after all, but it wasn't like her to ignore his shouting. Either she'd try to hex him and turn him into a newt (which had happened before, of course...and logically, he had gotten better) or she'd welcome him into her little hut, curious as to what questions he had. For of course, when he first was sent to the Caribbean to retrieve the flask, he had exhausted Alucard as a source of information.
But the witch knew things. She wasn't always completely there, so it required patience - a skill that he
obviously possessed tons of. She drew his tarot cards for him and told him what was in his future, causing Édouard to visit the witch at least once a week. He never bothered to learn much about her, only knowing that she spoke in odd tongues and never seemed bothered to explain how she had ended up in Tortuga.
"Sorcière! Où es tu?" he shouted out, using the more informal French, rather than the clean and proper French used in front of royalty. But predictably, there was no reply. He frowned deeply, beginning to feel a bit worried. From what he could recall, the witch had gone to Port Royal a week or so ago to run some errands (he hadn't been really paying attention as to the reason for her visit), but she was due back in Tortuga two days ago. Pulling his cutlass out, Édouard hurried up inside of the shack, only to find the condition was worse than expected.
A drunkard slept on the floor, with the witch's things scattered and smashed. She hadn't returned from Port Royal, then. Cursing, Édouard swung his sword wildly, before thrusting it downwards into the drunk. Rubbing his face, Édouard's heart pounded. He'd need to get back to town and speak with Edgard, let him know that their witch had gone missing. And without that advantage, just about anyone could grab the flask and use its power. Huffing, he pulled his sword out of the drunk and wiped it on the corpse, improvising a quick clean, before putting his blade away.
"Merde."
