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The Captain's Booty - Kwizzard & Khira

Kwizzard

Planetoid
Joined
Jan 25, 2023
Timbers creaked and groaned with strain as the Wayward's billowing sails caught the stiff sea breeze. Slowly, but surely she was gaining on the stricken vessel she was chasing - A similarly sized privateer vessel who had woefully overestimated themselves.

The Wayward's heavy guns and superior seamanship had proven too much for the other vessel, the Queen's Revenge. Though she had more guns, she lacked the range of the Wayward, and unable to get close enough to return effective fire, she had slowly but surely been battered into submission, and forced to make a run for it. So much for her Majesty's revenge. That bitch was about to get fucked once more by the fine sailors of the Wayward.

Tension hung in the air as the men mustered on the deck, preparing for the boarding action that would soon follow. It was the most risky aspect of the whole endeavor, but nothing new to any of them. Soon they would experience the thrill and terror of close combat, of leaping from one ship to another, where death could come at an instant. For though, there was just the grim trepidation of waiting, as the silhouette of the bitch grew ever closer. Nervous excitement hummed just beneath the surface as men prepared the lines that would bind the ships together, laid out the gangplanks that they would use to bridge the treacherous gap between decks, tightened armor straps and checked weapons.

They were out for blood. To think these bastards would attack the notorious Wayward on her own territory - Too brazen by far. They'd pay a harsh price for their folly. A warning to any other would-be privateers enticed by the queen's coin.


Flynn cast his eyes over the ship they were rapidly closing on, gauging the speed at which they were closing on her. The captain was a tall man, handsome by most standards, and well educated, for a pirate. Despite his education, he was well weathered and muscular, with a rough and intimidating presence that left no doubt who was in charge. A brace of pistols was strapped to his chest, and his weapon of choice, a long, knife-like sword swung by his hip. It was a killing blade, a weapon that lacked any kind of fancy embellishment. He found it beautiful in it's simplicity. It wasn't something made to show off. It was made to end lives. That kind of sentiment summed up the captain's nature well. At heart, he was a very pragmatic man.

The captain turned his attention to his first mate who was currently manning the helm. Jarn was a dependable fellow. Far removed from the boy he'd been when he first joined the crew. Piracy was a tough life, but Jarn had taken to it like a fish to water. He had a rare gift for lawlessness. Flynn's deep voice boomed as he shared his thoughts with his second in command. "We'll board on the next tack."

"Aye captain." Jarn called back, raising his voice to be heard over the sea crashing against the timbers as they cut through the waves. "We got them dead to rights, I reckon. I'll be damned if I'm gonna stay here while you have all the fun though."

"You'll do what I damned well tell you." The captain warned, although he relented easily enough, taking over the wheel for his first mate once more. There was glory to be had in being the first wave, and spoils as well. Compensation for the additional risk. "Go on then. Prep the men. Usual drill. We'll come up windward side, steal the breath from their sails, and then it's all you. Make it quick, and don't let me down. I don't trust these cunts not to try blowing holes in us once we're alongside. No fucking respect for the code, these privateer types..."


Jarn spat on the timbers in agreement. Those fucks wouldn't be getting any mercy from him. "Aye Captain. I'm gonna fucking enjoy dishing out some vengeance on these assholes. I liked old Yakob. Terrible way to go, fucking cannonball to the stomach."

Captain Flynn crossed his chest with an arm in agreement. Losing men was a hazard of the occupation, but that didn't make it any better. That bitch had come looking for a fight, and now she'd have to pay the loser's price. It would be steep.

Flynn grinned at his mate, he already knew what his first mate was angling at. There wouldn't be much treasure to be had from a battle like this one. That didn't mean there was nothing to be had altogether though. "Alright then. The fates of the captives will be in your hands... Just keep a few to replenish the crew... Now get the fuck on with it."

"Aye, sir." Jarn yelled in acknowledgement, already rapidly making his way down to the maindeck to supervise the boarding party. Soon enough he could be heard barking orders at the men, jibing them as they made their final preparations for the risky business ahead.
 
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Tori had been slouching below deck trying to fix the big hole in her pants when Hawley came sprinting down the stairs. "He's gonna attack the Wayward!" Her head shot up, eyes wild. She'd heard him all right, but she had trouble grasping his words. "He's gonna do what?" No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't do that. Not unless he wanted them all to die. Wasn't he aware of who ran that ship? What they did? Throwing her pants to the side, she sprinted for the stairs, almost knocking her friend over as she passed him. For years she'd searched for the Wayward—for her brother who she hoped was still a prisoner on board—and now this asshole of a captain was going to ruin every chance of her reunion.

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She heard the blast of a cannon before she reached the main deck. And then another. And another. "Stop!" she shouted over the blaring noise. "Don't fire!" No one listened to her—why would they? She might have been allowed to stay on board for almost two years, but she wasn't exactly wanted. It was only a handful of crew members who acknowledged her existence, and she only considered two of them friends—family. Hawley was one of them. He was on her tail, shouting the same orders as her. But none of them were in any position to make demands. Only the captain had the authority to do that. It wasn't until a cannon blasted a hole in their hull, followed by one that almost knocked over their foremast that they held off.

Another cannon sent splinters flying in all directions, knocking Rune and Porter overboard. No one bothered to check to see if they resurfaced. They were already dead anyway. "Retreat!" Finally, the captain came to his senses. But now it was too late—way, way too late. The Wayward wouldn't let them slip away after they'd tried to take them on, only to realize they couldn't. No way. They were coming after them at full speed, looking for vengeance. Ironic, considering they were chasing the Queen's Revenge. The Queen surely wouldn't be too happy with them now, if they even made it out alive.

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Tori eventually made it up to the wheel where the captain was desperately trying to outrun the Wayward. He might be able to hold them off for a while, but they were going to catch up with them sooner or later. It was only a matter of time. And when they did, everyone would be dead. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" she yelled at her captain while getting closer yet keeping her distance at the same time. "You'll get us all killed!" He might be on the queen's payroll, but he wouldn't get a dime if he ended up dead. None of them would. It had never been about the money for Tori. She just needed a way to get around at sea while she searched for her brother who just happened to be—or at least she hoped he would be—on the Wayward, and this was the only ship that would allow her presence on board. "Slow down and surrender and they might let us live," she said, panic filling her voice as she turned her head to see the Wayward closing in on them. The Queen's Revenge was running out of time.

Captain Reeves snorted. "Don't tell me what to do, child." Of course, he wouldn't listen to her. No one ever did. "If they so much as set foot on my ship, I'll gut them myself." Tori let out a frustrated sigh. He was a fucking fool if he thought he could kill any of them up close. He'd obviously never seen the aftermath of one of their battles or seen them in action. He'd be lucky if he were still alive when they boarded the ship. Because they would, and he had just sentenced his entire crew to death. She didn't care so much for him or the others, but Hawley and Ilias—they deserved to live. She deserved to live. Everything she'd sacrificed to get here. The battles she'd fought. The lives she'd taken. It couldn't all be for nothing. She refused to lose right before the finish line. All she wanted was to rescue her brother, and now he might have ruined her chance of ever seeing him again. Not to mention, killing her in the process. "You're a dead man," she said cooly before she turned on her heel. She had to make sure Hawley and Ilias wouldn't be foolish enough to engage when the enemy boarded.




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Tori knew better than to fight when pirates from the Wayward boarded the ship. She'd stayed below deck for the remainder of the bloodshed, listening to her fellow crew members' pleas as they begged for the enemy to spare their lives once they realized they didn't stand a chance. They were all fools. If only they hadn't drawn their swords at all. If only Captain Reeves hadn't been so unbelievably stupid. So fucking naive. To think that any ship could take on the Wayward. Take on Tarquin Flynn. They weren't even real pirates! Tori didn't really consider herself a pirate or a privateer. She was just a young woman in search of her lost brother—she just hadn't told anyone about it.

She'd played her cards right up until now, and she considered Hawley and Ilias family. But everyone else? Screw them. They could all die for all she cared, if it meant she and her new family members would live. She might already have lost Jarn, she'd rather not lose two more brothers. Especially not to the same men who took her brother from her.

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Before she joined the fight on deck—keeping to the back to prevent drawing attention to herself—she'd taken the opportunity to paint her face again. She only wore it in battles so her feminine features weren't so obvious. Some of the crew members had long hair like herself, the captain and his first mate Dane included. From a distance, she could pass for a man. Up close too, if her opponent didn't look too closely. Because, not only did she have nothing that resembled a beard, but unlike the others, she had curves. They weren't so visible when she was wearing her cloak, but once that was off, it was impossible to miss her breasts, despite their average size. The last thing she wanted was for them to find out there was a woman on board. That would most certainly get her killed. Pirates were superstitious. They wouldn't have a female on board, prisoner or not. Her chances of making it out alive were better if they thought she was a man.

The guttural screams and pleading eventually died down, and Tori could tell without having to look that the enemy had the upper hand and the numbers. She tried to scout for Hawley and Ilias through the fine line between the two barrels she was hiding behind. She eventually spotted Hawley kneeling by the main mast, beaten and bloody. Her heart sank as she grimaced. She'd begged him not to fight, but someone must have landed blows on him despite his surrender. Hawley wasn't the only man kneeling, but Tori couldn't care less about the others. The man walking in front of them was a piece of garbage. They'd already surrendered and he was still punishing them—killing them.

But as two pirates forced Ilias to kneel at the end of the line, she didn't know how much longer she could stand by and watch. It was only a matter of time before someone found her, so she might as well make herself known. Ilias also had a split lip and a torn shirt, so he'd definitely put up a fight. She didn't have time to decide what to do before someone punched him square in the face. She couldn't conceal the gasp that slipped from her mouth. The asshole drew back his fist and was about to punch him again, but Tori had seen enough. "Stop!" she yelled, stepping out from behind the barrels, as she stood tall. There was no way she was going to stand by and watch them beat up her new little brother—who was, in fact, older than her—or Hawley. The others, she didn't particularly care about. Why not beat them up instead? Or kill them? "Can't you see they've surrendered?"
 
It wasn't so much a battle in the end, as a slaughter. The pirates were well used to blood, unlike the comparatively greener sailors of the Queen's Revenge, and the melee quickly became a very one sided affair. Especially once the captain joined the fray, leaping nimbly across the gulf between the ships and into the fray.

Jarn was doing a good job at the head of the men, beating back the few defenders worth their salt. If the cowards had actually put up a fight instead of milling about trying to hide behind each other, they might have actually stood a chance at repelling the assault. Flynn made sure to pay attention to those who actually put up more than a token resistance, and those who didn't. He wouldn't tolerate cowardice amongst his men any more than he'd tolerate disobedience.

The battle wasn't totally without casualties on their side though. Somebody had managed to gut old Reg. The poor bastard was screaming as he clutched at his intestines. Flynn wasted little time putting him out of his misery as he swept past, clobbering the man across the head with the butt off his pistol. The surgeon could look at him later, if he lasted that long, but stomach wounds were rarely survivable.

Jarn had scored himself a laceration to the forearm, but he seemed unfazed, and a few other sailors were scattered around nursing injuries of various degrees. The surgeon would definitely be kept busy after this one. Davey fell back from the line, clutching his throat. He was dead, and he knew it. Flynn's pistol found a mark in the wiley old sailor responsible, and he dropped the hammer, blowing the man away before he could cause any more trouble. Even as it clattered to the deck, he was already drawing the second one from his brace, hunting for his next mark.

Boom!

Clatter.

Boom!

Clatter.

Each pistol unerringly took a life before clattering to the deck, the lead balls always finding their targets perfectly, despite the chaos. A desperate defender tried to rush him. Young. Brave. But woefully inexperienced. Flynn didn't even use his sword. He stepped past the man's blade with almost inhuman ease, and smashed his fist into the boy's jaw, laying him out cold. That one would be good crew material.

By then the battle was all but over. Just a few short minutes was enough to decide it. More than a few men trying to surrender were butchered by overzealous pirates before things finally began to reign in. That stupid captain of theirs, and a few of his officers still held out... But they were dead men anyway, and they knew it. Time to wrap this up.

"Throw down your blades if you want to live." He roared above the sounds of battle. "No quarter will be given to those who refuse..."

...


A short while later, the captain and his first mate could finally survey the results of the battle. Jarn had a cloth bandage wrapped around his arm, but was hard at work dragging the prisoners into lines of kneeling men. The pirates weren't being kind about it. Any defiance, no matter how minor, was met with violence. The officers were quicky weeded out and separated from the ordinary rank and file. Those who had been deemed guilty of cowardice were separated into yet another group. Neither group would receive any mercy from the Wayward's crew. Only the final group were worthy of being considered. Those who had put up a respectable fight, but held no particular loyalty to their previous captain, nor could be considered responsible for his incompetence.

The captain seemed content to once again let Jarn handle most of it. He lent his presence, but left the actual evaluation of the men to Jarn. Looking almost bored, he cast his gaze about the deck, before fixing upon a pair of inconspicuous water barrels. Curious.
What was it abou the barrels that kept drawing his eye back to them? The captain was tempted to go investigate, but before he could, his instincts were validated.

The reckless young fellow who had charged him earlier had decided to spit on Jarn's shoe, and earned himself a broken nose for his trouble. Before he could vent his anger any further though, a curious thing happened. Another young lad sprung up from behind the very barrels the captain had been eyeing, and leapt foolishly to his defence. Strange that they'd missed the boy earlier.

Jarn wasted no time ridiculing the lad. "Oho. Are you going to come out and fight now? Leaving the bravery a bit late, aren't you?"

A chorus of mocking laughter went up from the rowdy pirates. What the hell did the kid think he was going to do. Anyone could see he hadn't even grown any fluff on his chin yet...

Meanwhile, the captain's reaction was a little different - he was looking at the boy with a thoughtful expression. He was really very pretty for a boy, wasn't he..? Too pretty. This ought to be fun...

Jarn wasn't quite as observant, and was now intent on making an example out of the brat. He'd beat seven kinds of shit out of the kid, and then string him from the mast just for good measure...
 
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Neither Ilias nor Hawley had surrendered without a fight it seemed, to Tori's big relief. Save for her actual brother, those two were the closest thing she had to family these days. She met Ilias' gaze for just a moment—trying not to take in all the blood on his faceand she could see him shaking his head ever so slightly. Despite everyone being too busy laughing at her, he didn't want to risk anyone noticing his subtle warning. He had come to the same conclusion as herself. As long as she kept her distance, they couldn't tell for certain that she was a woman. But if she took so much as one step forward, at least one of them would notice that pretty face of hers—even behind the warpaint. And Ilias didn't want any of these filthy bastards touching even a single strand of her hair.

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She glanced over at Hawley—his face also covered in blood—looking for any sign of guidance. It was hard to tell, but she could have sworn he looked worried. But for what? For his own life or hers? If the pirates believed she was a young lad, they would make her a prisoner like the others, would they not? But just to be on the safe side, she tried to make her voice slightly darker this time around. "The fight is over, you moron. You've won." Her crew hadn't stood a chance, just like she had foreseen. Captain Reeves had been a fool for not slowing down sooner. And now the majority of their crew was deadsoon or alreadyscattered around the deck. Not that she cared that much for their lives, but it could all have been prevented if Reeves hadn't been over-ambitious and naive.

She wondered if she should have just stayed hidden behind the barrels, perhaps until they'd all left. Surely, that would have kept her out of the spotlight. It wasn't hard to tell that the pirates thought she was a joke, probably just a kid who had stayed hidden while the grownups fought. She would have probably thought the same if their roles were reversed. Tori might have drawn the attention away from Ilias and Hawley, but now everyone's attention was on her. "As I am sure you can see, we have surrendered. There's no need to kill us," she said loudly, waving her hand at the lines they'd formed while hoping she didn't sound as frightened as she felt. Trying not to make it too obvious, she took a tiny step backward—then another. It wasn't like she had anywhere to run with water surrounding the entire ship, but if she could just keep them from getting closer, at least her identity wouldn't be revealed. Unless, of course, someone sold her out first, but she couldn't come up with a single reason why any of them would do that.

She didn't like to admit it, but these pirates looked ruthless. They had already slaughtered half the Queen's Revenge crew if not more, and now they were beating up defenseless opponents. And that asshole she'd just stopped from punching Ilias once more looked like she had interrupted him amid something far more important than throwing a punch at someone. Tori noticed the bandage on his arm and couldn't help but wish someone had sliced his throat instead. Pirates like him served as a reminder as to why she had joined the privateers in the first place and not beaten herself up over the few pirates she had killed. The man to his left didn't look particularly nicer, although he didn't seem to find her bravery as amusing as the others. Or maybe he was just better at concealing it, it was hard to tell.
 
That brat was starting to get on Jarn's nerves. True, there was no need to kill them... But he sure as fuck wasn't letting the crew of the Queen's Revenge off after having the gall to attack them either. Those fuckers would have gladly commited every last one of his lads to the depths. In Jarn's mind, anything he chose to do was utterly within justification... And even if it wasn't, he didn't give a fuck.

He found a mean looking prisoner amongst the survivors. One of the better prospects that he'd lined up to join the crew. He smirked as he eyed the man up. Strong. Wiry. Weathered. More than a match for a boy. Jarn tossed the man his spare knife in it's sheath.

"How'd you like to join us?" Jarn asked the man. He already knew the answer. It was the only way out for the survivors. The smarter ones had already figured that much out... And this guy was one. Jarn made sure his next words were loud enough for the entire deck to hear. He'd give all the bilge rats here a real reason to fear him.

"Go skin the idiot - Give the twerp something to actually scream about... Do that, and you'll be one of us."

The ruthless first mate turned his attention back to the individual who had drawn his ire... He was smiling, and not in a good way. Not one of the pirates of the Wayward seemed to be phased by the prospect of a live skinning... In fact, a couple of them had already begun to jeeringly make bets about whether the boy would be caught, or if he'd just elect to jump overboard and drown instead. Either way, the would be skinner lost little time in scrambling to his feet, with a wild, dangerous hope in his eyes.
 
Tori watched as the foul pirate tossed something at Codrus. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together after hearing the man's proposal. Join them? Who in their right mind would like to join these monsters? They were better off as prisoners. Codrus didn't seem to share her beliefs though as he was quick to pick up what appeared to be a knife. She'd never liked him. He'd never accepted her presence on board and although he hadn't exactly made her life more difficult he certainly hadn't made it any easier either. He'd always mocked her, constantly reminding her that this work was not cut out for a weak woman such as herself—and perhaps he'd been right—but she wasn't going to prove him right today.

She hadn't exactly worked out what the knife was for just yet, or maybe she just didn't want to believe her own reasoning, but when the pirate raised his voice to give the order, the color drained from her face. They could probably see the fear in her eyes—it was written all over her face too—even from the distance, as she watched Codrus scramble to his feet, the knife clutched in his right hand. "With pleasure," he grunted. Tori's eyes darted to Hawley again, who she was certain looked even more scared than she did. With all the attention on her, she didn't risk mouthing anything to him, but she hoped he understood what she was silently asking. What do I do? Kill him, he mouthed. Or at least that was what it looked like his lips were saying. She gave him a short nod, before moving her eyes to Ilias who looked like he was ready to kill the pirate who had just given the order for Codrus to skin her alive. When he met her eyes, she shook her head ever so slightly. If he did something reckless, he'd end up dead, and she didn't want that. She had a plan now.

Her eyes landed upon the asshole of a pirate once more—that fucking bastard was smiling—before she focused her attention on Codrus who was coming her way. He was in no rush, and why would he be? He saw her as an easy target, as did anyone. But that was usually what got them killed. Being underestimated was her biggest advantage. "If you come any closer, I will kill you," she said in a low voice as her words were meant for his ears only. Codrus just laughed it off, obviously not believing her. He was slowly decreasing the distance between them and she automatically walked backward, not really wanting him anywhere near her, knife or no knife. But unless he was planning on throwing that knife at her first, he wouldn't be able to reach her before she'd stabbed her sword through his stomach.

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She made her way up the stairs to the quarter deck, never taking her eyes off Codrus who was about to reach the stairs any second. "Last chance," she offered. If he didn't stop pursuing her, she'd have no other choice. She might not like the guy, but she didn't particularly want to kill him either. But if only one of them would live, she'd rather it was her. Codrus just laughed again, right before he leaped at her. She threw herself backward, landing ass-first on the wooden planks on top of the stairs, but it wasn't far enough. He grabbed a hold of her leg, while she tried to kick him with the other. She almost hit him in the face, but her boot found his shoulder instead. "I'm gonna enjoy making you scream, you whore," he hissed, dragging her towards him.

There was no way she was going to die today—or scream.

Before he got a chance to secure her arms, as he was too busy dodging her endless kicks, she drew her sword. She didn't even think twice before she drove it through his stomach—just as he stabbed his knife in her thigh. She could only hope that his scream deafened her own. "You bitch!" Perhaps it was the element of surprise or maybe it was the pain, but Codrus seemed to lose his focus just long enough for her to kick him hard in the ribs, making him stumble and fall down the stairs they'd just climbed. She heard the thud of a body hitting the deck below, but she was in no rush to go check if he remained there. Instead, she looked down at the knife stuck in her thigh as she gritted her teeth in pain. That would certainly make it difficult to move around, let alone fight.

"Did he make the crew!?" she shouted, her mocking words aimed at the asshole who had given Codrus the knife now buried in her thigh. He hadn't succeeded in skinning her alive—thank God—but he'd certainly made it easier for the next guy.
 
Most of the pirates stopped their grim work to watch as the skirmish between the two prisoners fighting for their lives, or at least a less miserable death played out. Eventuallys though, Jarn's champion proved himself inadequate, and got himself gutted for his trouble. The would be killer toppled backwards down the stairs, knocking himself senseless in the process. Probably just as well. One of Flynn's men moved in, and with ruthless indifference, dispatched the loser, dispelling any illusions about failure the prisoners might have had. Soon enough, many of them would also have to fight for the right to join the crew. A little extra motivation wouldn't hurt.

Tori wasn't out of the woods yet though. The first mate barely skipped a beat before growling another offer to the rest of the prisoners, mocking the late Codrus as he did.

"What a useless fucking maggot..." He grumbled. "Any of you other currs want to finish the goddamn job? Huh?! Or are you scared of a fucking brat?"

Spittle was flying all over poor bastard he'd chosen as his next scapegoat by the time he got that far along. He shoved the man, egging him on, roaring at him point blank.

"GO... FUCKING... GET HIM!!!"

A hand clapped down on Jarn's broad shoulder. He rounded on the hand's owner, intending to give the offender an ear bashing... Only to find himself staring into the captain's eyes. By contrast, the captain was perfectly calm, and even smiling slightly, in a way that Jarn found extremely disconcerting. In fact, it knocked the wind right out of his sails. He visibly deflated as he reassessed his priorities.

"I'll handle the kid personally." Flynn told his first mate firmly, leaving Jarn no room to argue. "There's a thing or two I'm rather curious about. Just deal with the rest of them, and report back to me later. Good man."


Jarn's attitude change was quite stunning. It was easy to tell that whatever else he might have thought, he found the captain unnerving. The captain didn't stick around on deck. He made his way up to the quarter deck, and set his eyes upon the injured girl, laying on the deck. Once you knew what you were looking at, she was actually rather pretty, despite her attempts to disguise her delicate features. With the words exchanged between her, and her would be killer earlier, more than a couple of had put two and two together... And it was only a matter of time before they started getting ideas.

Even Flynn wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain discipline if that happened. He'd need to move her somewhere more private first, if he wished to interrogate her in piece. What captain wouldn't be curious about why a woman seemed to have infiltrated the crew. What secrets did she hold? Was she that useless sack of a captain's mistress?

The pirate captain glowered down at the girl, still clutching at the wound in her thigh. That would need tending to before he moved her. The surgeon was busy with more valuable patients.

"Drop the fucking sword." He growled. It wouldn't do her any good anyway. Then he fished out a well chewed leather strap and a long length of surprisingly clean cloth from his coat. "If you plan to live, then we need to pack that wound before you go bleeding out. Or making it worse... Otherwise, I'll put you out of your misery myself. So what's it gonna be, girl? I'm only gonna ask you once."
 
Tori could hear the commotion on the main deck and knew it was only a matter of time before someone came for her again. If she hadn't killed Codrus, he was definitely dead now. She had never wanted to hurt anyone—not really. She was no pirate nor privateer, despite looking and acting like one. She couldn't care less about some of her crewmates, but she did care about Ilias and Hawley. If someone wanted to skin her alive or kill her, she would fight them off or die trying. Tori was not ready to die nor did she have a death wish, but she was not ready to lose the two men she considered her family. Not to mention her real brother who she hadn't even seen yet. She refused to die before she'd laid eyes on him if only to make sure that he was still alive. To come to terms with the fact that it hadn't all been in vain. Because if he wasn't alive, all of her trouble would have been for nothing.

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She crawled backward until her back hit something solid. It was impossible to hide up here, but at least now she would be able to see who came up the stairs before they saw her. But when someone eventually made their way up the stairs, she was surprised to see the dark-haired man from earlier. What was even more strange was that he didn't seem eager to skin her alive not kill her. That didn't make her feel any safer, quite the contrary. Holding her bloody sword in her right hand and clutching her wound with the other, she wasn't exactly much of a threat. No, she was a sitting duck. If he'd aimed his pistol at her, he could have killed her with a single bullet. Hell, he could have killed her with his sword too. She was no match for anyone in the state she was in at this moment.

swordddd.png Her eyes never left him as he made his way over to where she was. He towered over her, but what did she expect? "Stay back!" she yelled at him while pointing her sword at him as if she was ready to stab him should he come close enough. Not that she actually thought she could. He'd probably rip the sword from her hand before she even had a chance. When he ordered her to lower it, she just glowered back at him. But it didn't take long before she realized that she'd be dead already if he had wanted her dead.

If she planned to live... as if she had planned to be stabbed. The fact that he wanted to help her stay alive, when that asshole on the main deck seemed hell-bent on making her suffer, made her question his motives. What game was he playing? But it was that word—girl—that scared her the most. Because that meant that he could tell. That he knew. And now it was too late to try to convince him otherwise. He might have been able to see it now, up close, but how many others had noticed during her fight with Codrus? How many had heard?

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Up close he looked more handsome. Perhaps a bit older than she'd first anticipated, but at the same time younger than she had expected him to be. She knew he had to be the captain of the Wayward, otherwise he wouldn't have been up there but still down at the main deck with that prick who wanted her head on a stick. But if he was the captain, that meant that he was none other than Tarquin Flynn, and she wasn't sure she liked that piece of information either. She knew the rumors, and yet here he was, offering to save her life instead of taking it. Tori didn't know if she was supposed to be grateful or horrified.

"Okay, fine. I don't want to die," she said eventually, letting her shoulders drop. But she didn't exactly want his help either. She had a feeling that it would come back to bite her in the ass later. Trying her best to disguise her pain, she removed her hand from her thigh so he could address the wound. "It's not that bad." Or at least she hoped it wasn't. She tried her best to pretend it didn't hurt at all, but the truth was that her entire thigh throbbed. "Just do what you have to do. I don't want that asshole to kill my friends while I'm gone." She had wanted to say family, but she didn't want to put a target on their back. It was no doubt who the asshole was though.
 
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