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 Posted: Sun May 26, 2013 6:25 pm
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 It's a rotten world, where pirates ransack the seas with a clear conscience. The land itself is overrun with corruption, poverty, and death. What people must do in this merciless era of chaos is find all the means available to survive. Power. Only the powerful can defend themselves, but protecting another is a worthless ambitions. Enemies are too common. People need the cruelty to abandon your humanity to scavenge your necessities. To change this would only lay out a life of numbing heartbreak for all those pure, brave and loyal hearts. To change this rotten world, a death wish for everything, their life and their loved ones, would be put at stake, with slim rewards. However, when a pirate's daughter is marooned by her father's crew for her honourable ideology and mercy, she finds herself washed up on a small island, inhabited by monks of a peaceful monastery. Saved by a young boy who's been raised by the benevolent monks, the pirate's daughter is amazed by the quiet life she could live. But things are not as wonderful as they seem. Upon revealing miraculous powers to her, the boy is shadowed by monks more and more, and unease sets the girl into a protective suspicion about the men's kindness to him. As she learns more and more about the dark cult's intentions, she is put in danger for learning the truth about this young boy's purpose for life. He is to be sacrificed. This thrusts them into a world of danger and dark magic that they are fated to navigate to meet their ends of changing the world. Can the daughter of a pirate manage to save an inexperienced fledgling and flee the island, while a siren chases the two for her promised offering? And, upon experiencing the true world, can the boy make a change with his powers and guardian at his side?
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Posted: Sun May 26, 2013 8:09 pm
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 *~Jacosa*Normans~*
≈ѯ≈♦The Guardian♦
"Unfaithful scum!" Jacosa screamed and lunged, writhing against the countless grips subduing her. It took five men. Five. Her father's burly subordinates finally managed to catch her wrist, which wielded a long, deadly kitchen knife. They'd chased her through the kitchens in her desperation to arm herself. Now the crew had gathered, and Jacosa could hear the thundering jeers of the pirates as one of the men landed a fist in her gut, and another twisted her wrist until she howled and released the hilt, for fear of her wrist being broken. The knife clattered to the onto the deck, soon followed by Jacosa. She wheezed as they smacked her down and pinned her. Still, the ferocious young girl would not surrender. She bucked and wormed an arm free, which struck one of her many opponents in the eye.
Unfortunately, they were strong men. Jacosa may be fearsome, but physical savagery could only do so much against men as tough as leaher. They endured her shrieking rage and clawing limbs, and gripped her arms, wrenching them behind her. Gnawing rope chaffed against her wrists as they wrestled with her to bind her. Finally, they succeeded, after a long, endless battle against Jacosa. She continued to thrash, in unstoppable violence, and yelled obscene curses through her teeth through her own fear. I'll make them sweat for this, she thought bravely.
"Stop this," ordered a cold, sharp voice. Jacosa jerked her glare, which blazed with brilliant jade fury to her father. He was a blond, bearded man bearing scars across his face walking boldly through the group, scowling down at her. Everyone made haste to remove themselves from his view of her. He was, after all, the infamous Captain Izaia Normans.
"Father...This is a MISTAKE!" Jacosa's voice was hoarse and raspy from her struggles. Her father stared icily down at her, then jerked his chin. Without a word, two men grabbed Jacosa under the arms and lifted hauled her up, so the pair could stare levelly at one another. Her jade fury pierced at him, like cold emeralds.
"I am not. You are too soft to survive like this. I don't need someone like you."
"I'm your daughter!"
"Blood does not matter, girl. I have no daughter. You are just a necassary sacrifice." He leaned forward, his rough fingers brushing her chest as his fingers snaked around the shimmering amulet at her throat. "You won't need this anymore...You were just like your mother."
"Don't!" She winced as he pulled. The chain snapped off. Then he waved the men to their work. She didn't make it easy, but she knew she was exhausting her strength. She was just so angry. He'd abandoned her. Her own father!
≈ѯ≈
Just another necessary sacrifice, huh? Jacosa had dreamed about the betrayal of her father and crew again. How many times had she dreamed that? How long had she been stuck at sea, stripped of her stolen jewels, wealth, weapons. Not even a dagger had been given to her. She was expected to die at sea. Tied in this dinghy. Perhaps fated to wash up on a small island and die there of hunger or thirst. Quite possibly she'd just waste away, tied to the rungs by her wrists, in the middle of the ocean. She was covered in aching bruises. They still hadn't faded from her struggle to attain freedom. Her wrists were chafed and bloody underneath their ropes.
With not even the strength to open her eyes, the skinny blond pirate's daughter lay sprawled in her battered dinghy. The wood was dried, and crusted with salt, lapped in by the storm. There'd been a storm last night, and the girl had panicked to keep herself from drowning. Now she listened, half awake, to the lapping of ocean water, the scratching and fluttering of a seagull that had landed in her dinghy, and was motionless in response to the light bumping. She didn't realize that she'd hit a shore. Finally. An uncharted little secluded island. It was a miracle. |
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Posted: Sun May 26, 2013 8:49 pm
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 The Storm the previous night had been intense. Lightning had cracked the horizon with ethereal sparks. Rain, waves and wind had pounded the coast line. However, the morning sun had brought with it a respite, and the world smelled fresh, and clean. It was for this reason that Mordecai had included a walk into his morning routines, during some of the few hours of free time he had while at the monastery. He did not mind the work, indeed, he enjoyed helping the brothers work the small farm, or repair damage to structures and tools. He preferred to put his hands to use than to study scriptures and teachings all day. As his soft boots tread into the sand, he took a deep breathe, taking in the brine laced scent of the sea air. The sun warmed his face.
He had not wandered the beach for more than a mile when he spotted a boat that had dug itself to a resting position in the sand, buffeted by the surf breaking against the land. It was rare, but such things had washed ashore before, so his curiosity led him to examine the vessel. The wood was weathered, and caked with salt, which was indicative of days at sea. As he approached, he could tell that the boat was not empty, and his foot steps grew quicker as he hurried to examine the contents. His revulsion at the sight he found made him cringe. A young woman, no older than he, by the looks of her, was tied to the planks, visible skin was bruised, sun burnt, and caked with salt and what appeared to be dried blood. She showed some faint signs of life, and he called out to her. " Miss? are you still alive?".
His hands fumbled with the knots in the rope, which were crusted over, but after a short period of working at them, the began to break and fall away to his deft fingers. Having freed the girl from her bonds, he pulled a water skin from a pouch at his belt, if she had truly been this way for long, she was going to die of thirst before anything else got her. He cradled her head in one arm gently, as he lifted the water skin to her lips, and poured very gently, allowing only a little water at a time to leave the skin, so that he did not accidentally choke her. |
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Posted: Mon May 27, 2013 4:04 pm
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*~Jacosa*Normans~*
≈ѯ≈♦The Guardian♦
The gull throated its grievances at a young man as he rushed the boat, a fact unknown to the girl strewn in it. Whapping the side of the dinghy with its wings, it ditched its perch and took to the air, shrieking to his fellows.
Jacosa's minds had been drifting in a half aware plane, which the call roused her from. Her breath hitched. shallow and harsh. The last thing she needed was seagulls swooping down on her like vultures. She'd seen the nasty creatures on the seas before, pecking at carcasses in rust coloured water. The sight was in her minds eye; a pale-haired, gangly girl, skinny from her marooning and black, blue, and yellow from old bruises, with skin ravaged to strips by the birds. Even the birds were as starved of goodness as the rest in the world. They would gnaw you to the bones just to scavenge a meal.
"Miss? are you still alive?" The voice, imaginary, probably, sang in her ear. Her eyelashes flickered, but she was dragged down once again by exhaustion. All her body wanted to do was sleep. She was tired, exhausted, perhaps half dead. The comforting blackness was coming for her, pulling her back from the loud voice of whoever spoke to her. She let it pull her, down away from the light, into blackness. Into Hell.
No, she urged herself, the part that defied her father, and defied the world's course still. Not yet! I can hold out...just a little longer. Like some invention of her mind, her father's voice purred inside her, dragging her down. You're soft. Your honor can't put bread on our tables, nor will it change anything. You might as well be dead. Suddenly, coolness filled her throat. The hot, stiffling sleep was pushed away from the shock of it. Wordless with anger, her thoughts roared and she wrenched free of the sleep dragging her to hell. She dove into the light.
The girl's head, in his arms, bucked after several sips of water. Her chest heaved with gagging coughs as she struggled with her last swallow of cool, fresh water. Her hand whipped up, grabbing the boy's wrist with her nails. She squeezed, shokingly strong for her condition, and pressed into his skin, threatening to break. Slowly and painfully, she eased her eyes open, blinking at the azure sky and silohuette above her. "Who are y-" she bagn to demmand, but her raspy voice squeezed too tight. She heaved once more in a fit of dry coughs, her thin body shaking, and she had to release the wrist, now with little crescents in the skin from her nails. I'm all dried up. Can't even chat, she thought edgily.
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Posted: Wed May 29, 2013 4:37 pm
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after a few sips of water, her body began to protest even that action, bucking violently. Her hand wrapped around his wrist as she coughed and choked, her nails digging into his skin. He did not show alarm, only concern. " I am Mordecai, miss. Please, you don't have to talk, but I know dehydration when I see it, and you need to drink. Slowly, mind, other wise you could get sick." he told her. " if you feel well enough to sit, just nod, and I'll see what I can do."
The poor girl was in very bad shape. and he was surprised that she was able to put such strength into her grip, but even that, it seemed, taxed her greatly, as he felt her hand fall away from his wrist. He again held the water skin to her lips. the first thing she needed was water, then her wounds, seeping and infected could be attended to. Fortunately for them both, he had been given training in basic first aid, all the brothers at the monastery were.
" Do not worry, what ever ordeal you've suffered miss, it's over now. you are safe." he chided gently." Once you feel strong enough, we can get you to the monastery, where you can rest and recover."
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Posted: Sat Jun 01, 2013 3:22 pm
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*~Jacosa*Normans~*
≈ѯ≈♦The Guardian♦
Ambitious, Jacosa exerted her strength around the stranger’s wrist. She blinked in the blaze of day, and narrowed her eyes on him. They blazed with fire and ice; the cold sheen of jade and spirit regarded him resentfully. As her vision cleared, she found he had soft brown hair and eyes. His skin looked smooth, like one of them young noble boys that kicked puppies for fun, with eyes concealed with diplomatic kindness, and she wished that there as a knife on her, so she could’ve lopped off his hand.
She caught herself thinking like that, and cussed the leaked bitterness out. She was better than that. She wasn’t her father, who zealously embraced the world. As it was, everything around her was corrupt. If Jacosa fell to her own resentment she really would be better off dead. For now, she forced herself to be thankful.
"I am Mordecai, miss. Please, you don't have to talk, but I know dehydration when I see it, and you need to drink. Slowly, mind, otherwise you could get sick." He sounded reasonable. People were good at sounding reasonable. But noble or rich people didn’t know things like dehydration. He was too clean to be idle riff raff. So what was this lad? Her green guarded eyes didn’t yield from the glare, even when her strength gave out and her hand fell off of him like water. "If you feel well enough to sit, just nod, and I'll see what I can do."
He wouldn’t let her respond right away. Instead he lifted a water skin to her lips, as tender as her ma. True to his advice, she ignored the burning need to gorge herself and gulped water with restraint. Jacosa tipped her head back to cough and breath, closing her eyes tiredly, but not for long. The fluttered open again to watch him.
"Do not worry, whatever ordeal you've suffered miss, it's over now. you are safe. Once you feel strong enough, we can get you to the monastery, where you can rest and recover." She locked eyes with him warily. She couldn’t help thinking, a lie, straight through his teeth.
She took a moment of silence, and then cleared her throat. It was painful, sounding like a rusted gate. It left her in another unfortunate coughing fir, and she motioned for the water, which she drank, tasting the salt that coated her. The girl gasped afterwards, feeling better ready and fixed her eyes on him. ”Who are you? Her words sounded as dry as it felt, like chalk. He grimaced, and her lips cracked and bled. As salty as she was, she wasn’t surprised to feel it sting. ”What monastery? . . . Where am I? She sounded horrible, just like someone on the cusp of death. She tried to sit up, out of the crook of his arm where he cradled her, but the world spun and her mind ached. She pushed forward until she started to collapse into her own lap, grasping her stinging forehead with one hand. Nausea rolled through her empty, convulsing belly.
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