Oh ~ Captain >< My [{}] Captain!~ <..> (Kari)

[Ren Takashi]

The sun had set and the moon was well past rising, and was high in the sky when Ren stirred from his slumber. It was a sham too because he'd been having quite a nice dream before he awoke. He had dreamed of Captaining his own pirate ship, with a crazed but loyal crew, and they had just raided a town and were lapping it up in the plunder when his eyes fell open to the crew's quarters on the Freedom. He sighed quietly, contemplating not getting up. Of course, if he didn't, that meant he wouldn't be up to do his nightly supervising duty that Cap'n Kari had put him in charge off, and it was probably best not to piss off your employer. I mean, she HAD just killed the old first mate rather brutally...and without warning...and reason, he suspected.

She was an odd one, Kari was. He couldn't help but feel bad for her, as he felt, anyone who at least looked at her, but without knowing her mood and mannerisms, just looking at her should have been enough to make you pity this girl. A small, and rather scrawny little thing, who barely looked capable of lifting a sword, let along Captaining a ship. A girl literally falling apart at the seams. A girl comprised almost more of chains and plates than flesh and bone. This poor scamp, lawlessly abused at the hands of the government. Poor thing, poor thing.

What you didn't know from that cursory glance is that Captain Sankari would sooner heft that blade straight up and through your gizzard before giving you the time, and feel not an ounce of remorse. He'd heard she'd killed crew-men, friends, cooks, deck hands, engineer, and townspeople, all to suit her needs. She wasn't exactly what he'd call a "monster". She didn't just go about killing everyone. She didn't do it for "just any reason" at least he didn't think so. He was sure she could at least justify it to herself, and that meant it wasn't "just because".

She'd been brutalized and left to rot by a system that was supposed to be for their own good, but it wasn't. In this, he sympathized with her, having lost his own family and sense of direction to the government. He was right on board with killing them and saying a big "Screw you" to their rules by being a raiding, pillaging, pirate now. He'd joined up as a fighter originally, having helped out another brawler from the S.S. Freedom in a bar fight. The man had told him about the ship, and crew, and even rumors of the captain. Despite the odd rumors, which he assumed were only half right anyway he'd agreed to take on a job as a Fighter for the S.S. Freedom.

He's only been on board for about...what was it, 3 weeks now? He'd seen his fellow Fighter tossed over-board for not complying fast enough with Cap'n's orders. Then he'd seen crew member after crew member suffer some sort of fate that removed them from the picture. He'd met with Captain Kari once or twice before his promotion, but she'd seemed to look right through him, with barley any words spoken. "Go do this, go punch this person, go bully them." All typical fighter work he'd assumed. Then yesterday Kari had summoned the first mate to attention and when he delivered to her some news that wasn't to her liking, a swift crack to the skull, and jab in the side with dagger, and a boot over the railing as they sailed made short work of him indeed.

She'd then sought him out, in person actually and forcefully told him of how he was the new First Mate, no real say in the matter, and he knew better than to argue, lest he end up like the previous officer. So here he was now, dragging himself out of his comfy bed and stumbling up the stairs, heading for the main deck. As he gets to the deck he pulls a sheet of paper from his pocket that the captain had forced another crew member to write out for him. On it was the list of duties he now had to perform. Something about watching over the night crew, checking stock on items, making sure doors were locked, yadda yadda.

He wanders through the random crew members who were scattered along the deck, taking mental notes on this or that. He comes to a stop when he spies a shape on the side deck, near the railing. He slowly slinks closer, going into thief mode, measuring his breathing and foot-steps out of instinct, creeping closer and closer to the person. When he's close enough he discovers that it's none other than Captain Kari. He stops, watching her for a few minutes, noting that she seemed to be a bit...off.

He walks back over toward the ship's mast, grabbing one of the rigging lines and shimming up it, before pushing off and swinging himself across to a sail line. He latches onto the line, wrapping his hand and legs around it, inverted now so he's hanging upside down. He slowly descends, controlling his speed with his hands, sliding along down the rope before coming to a stop right in front of the Cap'n. He smiles broadly at her, figuring, if she was gonna kill him, he'd die anyway and had nothing to lose by being weird and making an impression. "Well hello there Captain Kari. What seems to be troubling you on this lovely, star filled evening? " he asks, cocking his head, swinging about a bit on the rope, turning himself before sliding down into a sitting position on the railing, facing her.

Word Count: 1101

Tags: Cap'n Kari, arg

OOC: Let's see what she thinks of him, eh?

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

Stark, hard lines -- these are what she saw before her. Not clouds. Not moon. Only pinpoints of stars that she could reach out and grab. Only a map, laid out before her feet. It was time to win, after all. Time to consume every living thing within reach and destroy the way the world was run. Freedom? She would laugh at their visions of freedom, of fighting the strong to defend the weak; she destroyed the strong because they were the threat. They were the enemy. Even the weaklings would die, if they strayed too far from her protection. If they moved too far ahead and got in the way. If they threatened to ruin a plan so carefully laid.

If, if, if -- it was a dangerous road they walked, before her, after her, around her. A simple misstep to ruin the dance, and they would be used as canon fodder, used as nothing more than distraction and merciless destruction. If their noble death could be used to give her five more minutes, she would use it. After all, what did humanity matter, when it was vengeance that drove her harshly forward? When it was bitterness, and the fire of that harshly honed temper that kept her walking, a machine more than a woman, a thing that understood pain on a level as only those who've thrown themselves into pain's arms could ever, truly, understand. She grabs it by the hand and smothers it close at night. Let her breath come harsh: she only rode the line of death like a whore, and those closest to death were the more dangerous.

An animal, someone had spat in her face as her sword as slipped between his ribcage. A feral creature, with no thought. Injured, cornered, blindly striking out at anything that moves to keep itself safe. Coward, a woman had once whispered, stroking her hair tenderly. A child, nothing more. No shame in it; her smile was bitter indeed, sharp enough to cut against the steel she usually kept by her side -- sharp enough to destroy the chains she had left coiled like a snake by her bed.

Weight made everything clear, the intoxication slipping like everything sexual through her veins, making the world slur together in a blurry kaleidoscope of human emotions. Was she more human, defenseless and weak with alcohol running through her brain? Better to have come undone by a show of oil, than to have given the boy such a fright with her delirious reactions. He didn't need to know that the shadows they all feared were real, that they emanated from herself, from the ghost of a past she had no intention of facing. Her vengeance was a cold one.

It was better this way.

Her lips pursed, tongue dashing out to lick along the cracks, feeling dry as a desert, but unwilling to drink. Unwilling to eat; even breathing came slow and shallow, as if she couldn't be bothered to consciously force herself to drink down the air and keep herself alive. The wind came alive, bringing with it the stench of death; Kari tilted her head, feeling the coolness of death's touch, the brightening of her thoughts as she came in contact with the devilish trojan horse that had fallen in her palm.

She had new toys, suddenly.

The Captain, without trying, attained what she had needed for weeks now; and in doing so, reaffirmed her path to success. Even the motion of the ship could not still the excitement, the nightmares, the demon that had awoken at the stench of Jimmy's fear. Or the stale scent of tension that ripples through the night crew around her -- herself, or another? She is sluggish, disinterested in what might frighten them, but habit is a harsher mistress than even Kari could ever become -- there is no tension in her bones, but it doesn't stop her from moving. It is fluid, like a dance. Graceful, as only a weapon could ever be. Hesitation? It is what kills her. Delight? It is nothing but ashes now. Only the motion, only this impossible moment as she cracks the knout, it's slithering lethality coming to fruition as it lashes out blindly at the thing coming toward her -- from above? From below? You think you've got me?" she snarls in her head, shouting back at death with her soul. Twice tonight she has almost destroyed a crew member. Twice, in so many hours. Twice, as the weight is jerked back before landing it's mark on that precious face. There is a moment of why? as instead of a face, the brass weight crashes against the railing.

It gives her a moment of silence as everyone seems to stop breathing. A momentary pause, as a puzzled little frown pulls at her lips, pushes at her eyebrows. Why did she stop? Who cared? Her eyes lift up, as the fuzzy vision clears in sudden, harsh lines. Ren swings, she breathes, the knout curled over the rail as she twitches it on her own side. Always the one by her side, always, always, always. It is a weapon forged by sadistic hands, made for punishment and threat. What she needed, what she craved. Her fingers tighten, her lips tightening with it, eyes harsh, cold. His voice echoed from a past, words she hadn't caught when he had spoken them. Well hello there Captain Kari. What seems to be troubling you on this lovely, star filled evening?.

"Poison." she says. Succinct and honest to a razor sharp edge. Death. Life. How one goes to the next stage -- onslaught. "What do you know of poison?" She twitches her arm, the knout slipping up and around, twined around her arm, leaving a bruise. But what, really, was one more bruise?

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word count;; 971
tags;; RenRen
OOC;; I am not an imbecile. But i still didn't proof read.

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[Ren Takashi]

He blinks a bit, looking at this woman who was his Captain, taking in all of the things he was seeing. He looks over he slightly sunken down shape, and swaying, unbalanced motions. He notes the lack of the chains that he's seen her carrying before, but even without that weight she seemed to be bogged down. She seemed off, not in her right mind, and this concerned him. She was unpredictable at the best of times it seemed, and with this odd state of hers, he didn't trust that anyone would be safe and sound. He untangles the last of the rope from his leg and lets it fall to the side as he watches the Captain in her haze. He mulls over several options and thoughts in his head, thinking how best to respond and re-act to this current situation in a way that wouldn't want to make her murder him.

He slips down slowly off the railing, setting his feet firmly on the deck, mind wandering a bit, still racing with thought as he peers down at the tiny girl before him. It was almost hard to believe that this broken looking little girl could be the feared Captain Kari. He chuckles inwardly, but doesn't let it show on his face, knowing it would most likely mean death. He swallows once, clearing his throat, making sure he's ready to speak without faltering. He chooses his words again, making sure this would be what he wanted to say, and not mess it up. He clears his throat quickly and quietly before speaking to her. "I know some, enough to have kept me alive this long in a world full of scum. I know it can be cheap, or expensive depending on who uses it. I know it can cause anything from a burning of the skin to death in as little as a minute. Many are said to be incurable, but this simply isn't so, however, some might be to fast to counter-act without knowing exactly what to do. I can tell you that if it's derived from an animal or a plant there's most likely a way to reverse it, especially if you can get a hold of the original animal, or one of the same species to make an anti-venom. "

He speaks somewhat quickly, but makes sure to keep his voice level and speak clearly to this girl. He straightens himself out a bit, trying to shake off any lingering signs of nervousness. "Fact of the mater is, if you can give me a hint or two, I could probably have whipped up a poison or a cure to suit your needs. I'm no scientist, but I've dabbled here or there enough to know what I need to know, and in almost every town is someone with enough science, medical, or engineering know-how to get what I need from them. So give me your orders Captain, and I'll be sure it gets done. I wouldn't want to let you down after call, Cap'n Kari. " he says sincerely. He shifts his weight between feet, studying her quickly, silently, making mental notes and addendums to others. He liked to know everything about everyone, it was a flaw yes, but it never hurt to be sure. More often than not, it paid to do your homework on a subject.

He takes another step forward, looking down at this oddity that was before him. What was he to do other than obey until he'd made up his mind about what he could / couldn't do. What he would / wouldn't, should / should, and might do. He didn't really know, he never was able to really make connections with people enough to have them care, so what did it matter if he just blended in? He felt a closeness to her though, someone who'd shared in a fate he thought maybe only he alone had witnessed. Yet here was this girl, in the same boat as him, and even more so if he'd known the extent of the damage she'd sustained. He clears his throat again, wanting to add something more to his statement. "I should hope of course...that no kind of anti-toxin is needed for you miss Kari, I would surely hate to see you injured or ill. That just won't do for my tastes. I'd rather see you up and running at full then sickly or injured. So, how is it that I might be of service to you. " he says, looking down at her.

word count;; 803
tags;; Cap'n Hook xD
OOC;; Aww innit he sweet?

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

There were so many options here -- so many words to be spoken, so much poison to fall from her lips to scald him. She could hate, or love at her own will, yet she chose to do neither; she chose the unending death, the futility of shadows and silence. The world kept on turning, but Kari no longer turned with it -- she had separated herself, far from that younger self that had laughed so freely, cried so fiercely. She could no longer feel it: her heart was slow, languorous with compassionless ease. Indifference had carved a mask over her face, a mote of hate and poignant need hollowing out the spaces between herself and others.

And what did she need of humanity? What did she need from this crew, but their numbers? But their bodies to be thrown in any way toward the enemy? She was a pitiful creature, perhaps, but one that continued on despite the pity, despite the sad gazes of those behind her back. Did they fear her? Or sympathize? Did they want to pet her head and make a human of her? Or were they like rats, lurking around waiting for her to show weakness before attacking? Surely even this boy was nothing more than a rat, just as bad as a mutt, sniffing the air, looking for the stench of her rotten blood to ease the transition of power. Her smile is no smile at all -- it is a crooked curve, as if a skeleton had cracked in half and turned it's bony jaws in your direction. No human at all -- let them try to bring her down.

It set a fire under her feet.

More poignant than the liquor floating through her veins like oil. Sharper than the twilight that shattered apart the quiet; the fierce line of her smile was horrible to see, indeed. In it, there was no remorse for the death she had dealt out in spades -- no remorse for the victims she had left to rot in her wake. Were they sorry to see victory? She would make them cry at night, scream at night, when their morals were raped by the incendiary spark of her hate.

She is slow in moving -- always this needless conservation of energy. No motion that didn't need to be made. No point in thoughtless action. Everything is precise, calculated. Efficient. Or perhaps just tired. Her eyes slip over like mercury, poison to the touch, vibrant blue, like the oceans that must be curdling down below. Somewhere, down there -- an echo of a memory she shuts down before it even began. It is impulse, or self-hatred. Or perhaps even a passionate longing for a time when she wasn't so monstrous.

Was everything a lie? The smile. The look -- the tiny thing facing the muscular wall of flesh and bone? She feels ageless -- no, no. She feels old beside him, her emotions having grown, prospered then died. Without another thought she turns from the railing, her back against her, her eyes liquid pools of nothingness. What swam beneath the surface? Don't you understand? Can't you understand the truth? There is nothing left.

Only the pain of emptiness inside of her. A bullet wound that had grown to horrendous size; a hole that could never be stuffed no matter how much flesh she stuffed in it, no matter how much death she wreaked, havoc she sought, hate she drank down with wine and blood. There was nothing to stifle the hunger, the craving that had gaped opened within her. She was a cadaver, a walking machine, and it suited her needs fine -- but the fire could never be put out. Starved, there was a wildness about her that could never be hidden. Even now, with nothing standing between them, she was an alien, where he, the darling boy, was everything the others fought for. He was the epitome of freedom, and what was she, but the weapon in his hand? The arrow that flew straight and true and led them all to victory? The smile cannot be destroyed.

She cannot be destroyed; not until she had them all under her boot, their temples crushed under the weight of her heel.

I should hope of course...that no kind of anti-toxin is needed for you miss Kari, I would surely hate to see you injured or ill. That just won't do for my tastes. I'd rather see you up and running at full then sickly or injured. So, how is it that I might be of service to you.

[/i] Her eyes are heavy as they weigh on him, thoughtfully, ponderously tracing along the curves that death had claimed for itself. Would he die soon? She chuckles, knowing it would not be by her own hand, but death nonetheless had claimed him long before life was ready to give him up. Her head tilts back, the wind feeling good along her skin; heavy-lidded eyes without the spark of danger that usually follows. Would she strike him down? What point, now?

What point, indeed.

She sighs, her breath soft as it slipped through parted lips; the groaning of the ship reminded her of her dreams. "We're going to poison the encampment." she says, her voice harsh. A pause, another tilt, "So'm thinkin." The heaviness of her knout trembling with the vibrations of the engines gives her pleasure; enough pleasure to continue, though she was more apt to simply stare out in silence, "T' object is t' win, after all. Better t' pois'n the whole lot." Thoughtfully tracing her lower lip with her tongue, she says into the silence, "Also thought 'bout flyin' the Freedom'n t' Rainen Linear's bedroom." again, she laughs, amused by the idea that the mutt would even sleep. [/blockquote][/color]

word count;; 971 (again?!)
tags;; Ren ~
OOC;; it SUCKS.

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