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Bloody Drake (Retro and Frelance)

RetroWitchcraft

RetroWitchcraft

Star
Joined
Jun 24, 2011
Location
The Basement
Charlotte knew that this would be a dangerous endeavor. After all no one wanted to have a woman on board any sort of vessel and some of the more superstitious sea farers believed one of her gender was bad luck. These included pirates and, of course, it was with pirates of a most devious nature that she would be surrounding herself with. Not that she minded being around rakes and roustabouts. She grew up amongst them on the street at any rate and was more comfortable in their world. Yet this was different. A woman would not be tolerated on a ship, especially one with murder on her mind.

It was her sole intention to take the life of the captain of that vessel.

Dressing up in men’s array was simply enough. Her ample amounts of copper colored hair had been pinned up and stuffed into a scarf and then had a hat crushed over it. It hid her curls quite neatly. She donned clothes at least two sizes too large, padded her waist, and bound her chest to take away any curve from her body. She knew somewhat of a ship but her lack of knowledge would prove to be helpful here. A young boy would not know much about those sorts of things and would be eager to learn.

A few days out to sea and she had picked up on a good bit in the short time she had been there. She understood how to tie different knots now and where the knots would best be employed. She had learned to clean a musket and resemble it in less than a minute. During all of this, however, her mind rarely removed itself from revenge. Much of her day was spent looking towards the captain’s cabin when she was out on deck swabbing. She made note of when he came and when he left; what times would be best to slip inside of his quarters and then slit his throat.

That day Charlotte had been going about her normal routine. The salt water had embedded itself into her clothes and that morning she felt particularly grimy. It was no wonder so many men simply went around in vests and dingy pants that had been cut off; it was easier to wash skin than it was to try and take the brine out of clothing. Part of her wished that she could simply strip off her clothes and be like that but she minded her manners and her place. It would not do for her to spoil all just for the opportunity to feel more fresh. She would have ample opportunity when she got off of that horrible ship. Already the sun was baking her fair flesh. Freckles had begun to dot the bridge of her nose because of it and her skin, the parts that were exposed anyway, had turned a golden tan. She liked the color herself, even if it was not considered fashionable for young ladies. Keen green eyes turned towards the captain’s quarters once more and she hoped he would emerge soon.
 
Kennit ran his finger along the shore of a small island on the map before he double checked the heading. He smiled to himself as he thought of the treasure that the island hid. After writing down the heading he slipped it into his pocket then put one of the two double barreled pistols back into his belt on the other side of his hip. He started humming as he put his hat on and walked out of his cabin.

He stood and blinked his eyes as he stopped humming and let them adjust to the bright light of day. He was used to it by now so to anyone watching him it looked like he was watching the crew. When his eyes had adjusted he had his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked up stairs to the quarter deck. "Smith, our new heading." The first mate turned to the captain and took the offered paper before taking the wheel and adjusting their course.

Captain Kennit turned and put his hands on the railing as he watched the crew. He knew they had replaced the crew that had died in their last raids or he had killed when they tried to jump ship. Mr.Smith walked over and stood beside the Captain. "How are the new crew fairing?" Smith was quite for a long moment before he spoke. "They are holding in. I must tell you the youngster has been watching you more than is healthy." Kennit glanced at Smith then looked back out at the crew and looked closely to the young man that Smith mentioned. The only thing that he could see wrong was that the boy seemed to ware more clothes that most. Kennit only had on a loose white shirt and a black vest with a wide belt going from his left shoulder to his right hip. Even his pants were a loose thin fabric held up by a thick belt and tucked into a pair of tall leather boots. "Get the boy up here so I can have a chat with him." His fingers drummed over the wood as Smith nodded and headed down to the deck.

After a minute Kennit walked to the stern of the ship and put his hands behind his back as he watched the wake of the ship and waited. Smith grabbed Charlotte's shoulder and pulled her to her feet. "The captain wants to have a word with you." He waited for her to start walking before he followed a step behind her.
 
The sudden touch to her shoulder caused her to start, body shaking a moment from shock. If someone grabbed her shoulder like that on the street it was liable that she should cut them or, at least, scold them thoroughly. Yet Charlotte remembered her role and bit back any callous words and fought the twitching fingers that eagerly longed to grab for the dirk strapped to her thigh. She was thankful for the padding, sure that his fingers would cause the covered flesh beneath all of the layers to bruise terribly.

She pushed herself to her feet rather quickly and headed towards the cabin. She slumped her shoulders and held her head down as if she were a terrified youth. In reality she wanted to meet the captain eye to eye and spit in his face. Bile rose in her throat and she hastily swallowed it. Giving away the act so soon was likely to get her thrown from the ship and to the hungry sharks below.

Hushed, taunting whispers were nearly washed away in the sounds of work. A ship was never, ever silent. There was always something that creaked or wailed or flapped miserably. Charlotte hated it. The streets were quiet at night at least but here even the gentle slosh of the ship pushing through water drove her mad.

“Have I done somethin’ wrong mister?” she asked, trying to make herself sound crackling and prepubescent. “I am jus’ learnin’, I am.”

The sound was rough even to her, and she winced at the sound of her own voice. Terrible, just terrible! Though she was concerned at that point.
 
Smith just laughed at her question along with a few of other crew men who had been walking by. One of them looked at Charlotte. "If the captain is in a bad mood then you did something wrong." His comment caused more harsh laughter from the crew but it ended quickly from a glance from Smith. Smith kept his hand on Charlette's back with enough force to make sure she knew it was there and to keep going.

Kennit heard the laughter and turned to see what was going on. When he saw Smith and the boy he walked back to his cabin and left the door open for them as he went inside and grabbed an apple. He sat down behind his desk and waited for Smith and the boy as he watched the door.

When they arrived Kennit motioned Smith to leave and he did closing the door behind him. "Whats your name boy?" Kennit took another bite from the apple as he studied the boy in front of him. He did not usually take on boys that were so young but from what he and Smith had seen the boy worked hard and was a fast learner.
 
There was an awkward silence from her in the wake of their laughter. She wanted to yell at them and kick at their shins for being so cruel to someone of her age but she knew it was the way of pirates and the way she must be treated, if by anything, by the lifestyle of it all. She did not lift her gaze from the ground as she was lead to the captain’s quarters. Her feet shuffled clumsily in shoes that were too large for her. Why she would go without them at all if she could but she knew her foot to be dainty and entirely too slender for such a thing and, upon seeing them, the men would point her out as fraud almost instantly and that would be the rather bitter end of her game.

It was only when the captain spoke to her did she lift her gaze. The pale color of her eyes flashed a moment in keenness. Ah. She knew that face well. The face of the man who had taken her mother for nearly everything and left her to rot. Her blood boiled, hot and fierce and made her sun stain cheeks flush crimson.

“Charles is my name, sir.” She replied in a cool as tone as she could muster while still keeping the crack so common in boys the age she was pretending to be. “I haven’ done nothin’ wron’, have I?”
 
Kennit saw the keenness in the boys eye and it caused him to smile. He liked to see that his crew had more brains than it took to do one task at a time. He took another bite and considered the boys question as he chewed. But when he finished the bite he answered her question with one of his own. "Do you know what Mr.Smiths job is here on the ship, boy?" If the boy was smart he would get an answer to his question when Kennit was ready to answer him and know sooner. "I mean do you really think that you are not being watched just as much as the rest of the crew while you work?" His face was still pleasant but his voice had grown colder.

He took a larger bite this time and eyed the apples wondering if he would give the boy one if he answered his questions the way he wanted them answered.
 
There was another moment of tense pause and her eyes darted about. This was becoming dangerous for her and she though, perchance, it was better to play it slow at first. Though she knew what Smith to be the moment she entered the ship. He was a bodyguard in lesser terms but she thought him completely a cad and a rake and a man much after the cruel captain’s heart.

“I think, sir, he must be your firs’ mate or confidant of sorts.” The sound of her tone is slightly off than before. That voice is a strain and she isn’t exactly asked to speak to great lengths on the ship as she works. Always it is a ‘Yes sir’ or a ‘Naw, sir’ and silence.
 
The captain was silent for a few long moments as he thought about it. "His job is to keep an eye on the crew. So first mate works well for him." His eyes bet the boys as he stood up. "That means that as were you watching me he was watching you." He moved around his desk and took a few steps towards the boy. "Now tell me why you have been watching me so intently since you came on board my ship?" He took the last bit form his apple. "If I am not satisfied with your answer I will personally give you five lashes." The boy would not be the first to be whipped since they left port but there had only been two men in the past few days.
 
Lashes? That would mean a bare back and exposed skin and the showing that she was not a young boy but a full grown woman. Her heart leapt to her chest and she took a deep suck inward. She could not fib and say that she fancied him; a young boy fancying a man was frowned upon at best. At worst it could get her cast off the ship. So, instead, she blurted out the second thing that came to her mind in her panic.

“I was only admirin’ sir.”

It was not uncommon for lads to look up to men that had taken them in. Especially if that boy had no parents and she had concocted Charley’s story to make it so he had none; just like her. Perhaps she could pull off that she thought of him as a father figure.

“One day, maybe, I was hopin’ to be like you.”
 
Even being as cruel and harsh as he was Kennit still felt something for the boy when he said that he admired him. He studied the boy for a minute as he thought about the answer he had been given. Maybe it was the boys age but Kennit believed him. "Well keep it up and maybe you will make something of yourself." He walked back to his desk and grabbed an apple. "Now get back to work." He tossed him the apple as he spoke then turned back to the map table. He did not seem to be aware of the boys presence but it was just an act. He was listening more for the boy than he was looking at the maps.
 
Clumsily she caught the apple. It was not as if she could not do something so simple; it was just the very thought of touching something that he had put his lips to made her stomach churn and she was sure that it would burn her like fresh lye. Instead she forced a smile on to her full lips.

“Thank you, sir!” She was sure to have her voice fit, perfectly, the tone she imagined for an excited lad.

Her pale green eyes moved down towards the apple and she actually half smiled in that moment, her features relaxing somewhat and appearing more feminine (what a beautiful boy she was!). It would be a long while since she was to have an apple again, she was sure, so she decided to make the most of it. Upon the unbitten portion of the apple she pressed her lips and took a bite, nearly squealing from joy. Even on the streets such a treat was rare and, how fitting she thought, that such a thing would come from the person she hated the most.

She turned her gaze towards him for a moment, trying to show admiration but her eyes lied. There was a flash in them that showed all of her hatred and malice and anger. As quickly as she looked she had looked away.
 
Kennit turned to look back at the boy in time to see the admiration in his eyes. He saw a flash of something behind the admiration but he ignored it since he did not see the boy as a threat. If he had seen the same threat in the eyes of one of the other crew he would have had them lashed until the threat was gone or just shot them on sight but he just didn't see the boy as a threat to him.

He looked past the boy as he heard something crash to the deck and his face locked into a hard expression as he walked towards the door. He looked at Charles as if he had almost forgotten him. "What are you doing in here still? Get back to work before I change my mind on those lashes." His voice was harsh but it was only slightly above normal volume. He stayed at Charles for a moment then walked out of the room and ground his teeth as he saw one of the new cannons half through the deck. "Who did this!?" He was livid and everyone knew that whoever had pointed out would be in a world of hurt when he was done with them.
 
Charlotte nearly darted at from the captain at that snap. What else should she have expected from him? For all that he was cruel she should have known that his silence meant that she was to leave. She gripped the apple harshly and half expected it explode within her grasp. Though it did not. Not until he screamed again. Apple bit flew around her as she whirled around.

What she saw made her pale. It was she who had done that. No one had told her how to do such a thing and she simply guessed at it. Her dry lips were whetted quickly with a flick of her tongue and her stomach churned.

A man stepped forward, the one who instructed her to do the task, and simply pointed towards her with a shrug. “The lad did it, I think, confusing one thing for another sir. It t’aint his fault. He’s still learning…”
 
Smith had walked over to Kennit's side even as the man stepped out of the crowd. Smith glanced at Charles as the man spoke. Kennit kept his eye on the man, he glanced at Charles but only for a split second before he grabbed the whip that was on Smith's waist and took a step towards the man. "Are do you want to accept the lads punishment then? It was you who gave him the task and did not teach him is it not?" His voice showed that he wanted nothing more than to find a target for his anger as soon as he could. "Mr.Smith grab the lad. We don't want him running off and hiding while we sort this out."

Smith didn't hesitate he walked straight to Charles not letting him out of his sight then grabbing his shoulder to make sure he did not run off.
 
Charlotte clenched her teeth tightly and flexed her fingers. If that man threw her beneath the preverbal carriage wheels she would have a fit right there on the floor. Her full lips pulled tight about her mouth and she watched what was unfolding. A curl dislodged itself from the tightly done up scarf and hat and twisted about her cheek. All of the sharp jostling from Smith was causing things to shift. The pins keeping everything in place were coming undone. Her padding was slipping and pushing in odd places, making her coat fit her oddly.

The man balked considerably. It could have meant life or death after all so, really, she did not blame him his answer. “Sir, he did not ask either. Shouldn’ have pretended to know what was what when he knew nothin’ at all.”

She snarled and jerked against Smith’s strong hands herself. “You! You are lucky I don’t have your guts for garters!”
 
Kennit glared at the sailor. "If it is the boys fault why have you wasted my time? Do you not think I have more important things to do than talk with a deck hand?" He would have kept going but he heard Charles and turned to face the boy. "As for you!" He took a few steps towards the boy as he saw the curl of hair that had settled on his cheek. When he got the the boy he pulled off his hat then the scarf and snarled when he saw the hair that had been pinned there. He took a step back and his eyes met Mr.Smith's after a second he nodded and Smith gestured to another man.

"Why are you here? You are not fooling anyone now, girl. So tell me what are you here for?" Even as Kennit spoke the other man had grabbed her shoulder and he and Smith dragged her to the mast pinning her there as they ripped the back of her shirt open. Kennit let the whip fly but let it snap back just inches from her bare back a few times as he decided how many lashes he would give her. He was in the mood to give her enough lashes to kill her right there on the deck.
 
A loud, feral snarl ripped from her lips as he came forward and tugged the hat and scarf from her head. In the harsh sun her hair had turned into a blaze of copper. As she struggled and hissed more of it tumbled down. It was truly a feat that she had managed to pin and pull all of it back. The length and texture was that of a wig maker’s dream and tumbled down to her thighs in the thick curls. Tears did not sting her eyes. She would not let them. Instead she threw herself about and made it quite difficult for them to take her to that mast. But she was light and slender and was not nearly half the weight that they were used to hauling around.

When the back of her top was cut open, the padding fell to ribbons around her and the curve of her body was exposed. Her waist was small and could, with ease, cinched to the popular sixteen inches. Her hips clearly flared out as did her rib cage; the figure beneath their gaze clearly an hour glass one. The skin beneath the protective clothing was as pale as fine china.

The crack of the whip sounded in her ears. She had never been whipped before. She had had her knuckles hit with beads wrapped in some sort of silk. She had been backhanded once or twice for begging but no one had ever took a whip to her and she twisted against the mast she had been tied to. Hoots and catcalls came from the crew.

“You don’t remember my face then!” she exclaimed over the jeering crowd.
 
Kennit pulled the whip back to himself and rolled it up again as he heard her words. "Silence!" The crew fell silent almost at once as he walked up to the girl and grabbed her chin. He turned her face towards him, he did not care that it would be very painful for her. He just stood there and studied her features for a long time as he thought back all those years. Then he nodded as he remembered her. "Charlotte, I wondered where you have gone when you mother died." His voice was still hard but he was not yelling at her anymore. "Five lashes for the damage to the ship then." He spoke loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear as he started walking away from her.

When he was far enough away from her he let the whip fall as he raised it above and behind him then with just as much strength as he would use on anyone else he lashed out at her back. He pulled back just as the whip his causing the tip to cut her skin and run up her back at an angle leaving a thin red cut. He waited a few seconds before whipping her again. He wanted her to know exactly how much it hurt to do something wrong on the ship. He repeated it until she had five long cuts on her back. "Mr.Smith clean her up and bring her into my cabin." He used a the corner of his vest to clean the small amount of blood left on the wipe off then glared at the rest of the crew. "What are you looking at get back to work or you will be next!"

He turned away and stormed off back into his cabin. He was livid that the girl had made it onto the ship. He had thought that she was dead after all theses years. He did not mind that she was a women but now he had to deal with someone who knew him and that was never a good thing in his live. He sat behind his desk and waited not sure what he would do with the girl now that he was stuck with her.
 
She winched as he pulled her face towards him. Rose colored lips tremored in anger and hatred and, though she did not care to admit, fear. For now she was caught and certainly he would kill her just as he assuredly killed her mother. Just in a different fashion. He killed her with latent illness; Charlotte would meet a kinder fate likely by the edge of a blade.

But he did not kill her. Instead he called out for five lashes. Her head hung and she braced herself. She would not make further spectacle of herself. She would not be their entertainment. Nor would she struggle. If she did she feared that it would undo her now ruin top and they would get a full view of her chest. Men were pigs when it came to a woman’s body from what she gathered.

The sudden crack against her back caused her to jump a little and holler out. Upon her pale skin the red, bloodied mark stood out brightly. I must not cry!

The second lash came as soon as the ache of the other ended and she squirmed about, placing herself on her tiptoes as if trying to edge as far away from the pain as she could. Her bottom lip quivered and she desperately wanted to shed a tear. I will not give him the satisfaction!

Three more came in very much the same fashion and, by the end, she did not scream out or whimper at all. Sweat dripped down her forehead. A little blood streamed down her back. Her body quivered from pain. Her legs buckled. Yet she made not a peep afterward. The men stared at her in a peculiar fashion but she did not care. Even as she was tied up and roughly led into the captain’s quarters, she leered at them, showing her small white teeth as if trying to frighten them.

Some of them were, too.
 
Kennit watched as they brought Charlotte in but did not say anything. He gestured to a over stuffed couch that he had taken from a particularly wealthy merchants ship. "Smith get her a shirt before she is set down, I do not need her staining it with blood." He gestured to a wardrobe by his bed and Smith quickly found a plain black cotton shirt and slipped it over the girls head as the other men untied her. "NOw go and I do not want to have to punish anyone else today. I will not be so generous." Smith smiled for the first time as he said. "Of course Captain, I will take care of everything." With that he left and closed the door behind him.

Kennit stared at the daughter of his old lover for a while without saying anything. He heard the faint snap of the whip and knew that Smith was showing the crew their place. As he listened the corners of his lips tugged up just a slight bit before the fell and he focused on Charlotte again. "What am I supposed to do with you now? You sneak onto my ship for what? Did you hope you would find a life at sea." He shook his head and stood up. He had never wanted children but he had loved her mother and he had never had to deal with Charlotte very often unless he felt like it. "Why are you hear Charlotte?" He walked to the window at the back of his cabin and stared out at the sea as he waited for her answer.
 
There was a stony silence from the redheaded woman. This was not fitting at all! Her pale green eyes shot daggers at the men who kept her tied. Shot sharper looks, still, as a shirt was yanked over her head. It was embarrassing that men had seen her in nothing but a tattered white shirt but to have one dress her as a child might be dressed nearly sent her into a blind rage. Somehow she managed to remain calm. Somehow she was able to cool herself enough not to flail around like a child having a tantrum.

After her ropes were undone she rubbed her wrists, the white flesh rubbed raw. She scowled at the marks and at the men who left. Then her vicious gaze turned towards him. So he did not know. He left them bankrupt with his gambling arrears. She pressed her now chapped lips to her aching wrists, wishing she could do the same to the throbbing welts still giving her back pain.

“You killed my mother, you know.” Her voice was soft. Uncommonly so considering the words that were coming from her. “Or, rather, whatever illness you had picked up from the whores I knew you have bedded before wooing my dear mother. It was in spring and I was tossed out into the streets. I might of died if some of the urchins there hadn’t taken a liking to me; my face was sweet and my fits of crying for my mother and father made good for getting coin. It was a miserably meager life. Was… is…”

She waved her hand and laughed at herself, a dry and uncaring laugh. “I was lucky that I heard of a captain, who matched you toe to tip by the way, was in need of a ship hands after he stupidly ran his ships through a storm. I figured it was worth a shot.”
 
He refused to looked back at her as she spoke of her mother. He knew the illness that she was speaking of but it was not the type of illness she thought it was. "I gave her the sickness yes but it was not form a whore, I contracted it one the voyage from an animal attack. So get it out of your head that I was sleeping with other women." He turned to face her just as she laughed and he glared at her.

"So its a storm this time, well Smith does a a wonderful mind when it comes to hiding what we really do." His eyes a glint to them now it was look that made most people uneasy since most people did not like what he did and how his mind worked. "Hm, I will have to get Smith to not describe me so well then." He walked over to her. "So when are you going to try to kill me?" He had remembered the look in her eyes and he recognized it for what it was now. "As soon as I am dead Smith will drag you along the keel and it will make you wish I was giving you a hundred lashes because the salt water will burn as your back is ripped open. So choose now, either kill me or bury your rage." He had a hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked down at her.
 
He did not frighten her then. Nothing did. The lashes on her back hurt, yes, but she also knew the gnawing pain of hunger. The pain of growing up without any real affection left mars on her soul deeper than the ones left on her back. She ran a hand through her copper hair. Her startlingly pale eyes held his. She meant to kill him surely.

“I cannot kill you at the moment. You think I am fool enough to go up against an armed man?”

Maybe he did and maybe she didn’t really give him any reason to think otherwise. She dressed up as a boy just to murder the man who left her life in shambles. One might consider her actions that of a madwoman. Her long, dark lashes fluttered and a frown tugged at the corner of her full lips.

“I am sure any punishment he can give me won’t be as horrid as what I have endured by your hand for my entire life. I do not care where the illness came from. I do not care if you had the best intentions. I do not give two bloody fucks if you intend to gut me before I do the same to you. My mother wished you dead herself with her last breath and I intend to carry out her last wish or die trying.”
 
Kennit had to giver it to her she had guts and brains. He did not like it but he almost never liked anything about other people. "Fool, maybe. You came onto my ship intending to kill me, that was fool hearty on its own but you don't even know our destination." He walked back to his desk and leaned against it as he crossed his arms ans listened to what she had to say.

She wouldn't know it but the only person he listened to for any length of time was Mr.Smith and the only reason he was listening to her was because he was generally interested in the girl. He would never tell her but he was non the less. When he heard that her mother had wished him dead on her last breath pain flashed through his eyes for a split second before he glared at her. "If that is so then tell me her exact words. I have a right to know, I was keeping you both alive with my own money." He wanted to know what had she had said not because he did not believe Charlotte but because he had loved her mother and the emotion he had shown to her had all but died after her death.
 
She rolled her eyes. His own money. Bah! She did not believe a word of that, not for a second. She crossed her arms over her chest. Those were her words; for her own ears. Her mother had given them to her as she passed. There were no jewels to pass on or plain rings or even a pair of gloves. No snips of hair could be taken for fear of the sickness being spread to Charlotte. She was a miser with those words.

“She wished me simply to find you and give you what you deserve. She was half delirious with fever when she went so her words were minced, I am sure.” No amount of physical pain could bring tears to her eyes but that small memory, as blotted and fuzzy as it was, was the thing that caused her the most agony. “Though I am sure she meant to kill you viciously and without remorse. After all you left her to die and you left her only child to die in the streets.”
 
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