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Post by dante on Jun 6, 2012 18:00:40 GMT -6
 Dante’s arms cut through the waves with each stroke, his feet kicking rhythmically behind him to propel him through the waves. The taste of the salt water was harsh in his mouth as he raised his head briefly to breathe, but he ignored it. The cool water felt good against his skin; it was even cool enough for him to feel it through the less sensitive scars covering his torso. It was refreshing, particularly since they had been burning with phantom pain for hours, and the cold ocean had finally made the sensation go away.
It had been over two centuries since the incident that had left Dante with the horrible scarring over his torso and on his face. He had even begun to finally overcome his fear of fire; he was at the very least able to use it offensively while in dragon form, though he had yet to get anywhere near comfortable with it when in his more vulnerable human form. Even though he could walk near it without flinching now, he still woke up at least one night a week from the same nightmare he’d been having for as long as he could remember. It was a replaying of the night he’d gotten his scars, and no matter how many times he experienced it, the fire was never any less terrifying. Not to mention he always awoke with the same burning in his scars, as though they were fresh wounds rather than centuries healed.
Tonight had been no different, but for once it had happened while they were docked rather than when they were out in the middle of the open sea. The episodes always made Dante restless, and for once he could act on it. So he’d slipped out of bed without waking Malcolm, left a brief note saying he would be back before morning, and dived off the side of the boat, in nothing but the pair of loose black pants he’d been sleeping in. The Enterprise had been docked beneath an overhang at the bottom of a cliff, out of sight of prying Navy eyes. Dante had swum several miles since then, working out some of the tension in his muscles by pushing himself hard through the surf.
He was beginning to tire, however, and he still had to have the energy to make it back later, so he turned and headed into the shore. A few minutes later, Dante half-stumbled out of the waves and up onto the beach. The town that Oleron Island was named for wasn’t far from where he had stopped, but he didn’t expect anyone would be out this way this time of night. He preferred it that way; he wanted to be alone for a bit.
With a sigh, Dante dropped down onto the sand, sitting with his back to the island so he could look out over the ocean. The moon was nearly full and seemed lower in the sky than usual, a huge white orb hanging overhead. It turned the fairly calm waves into a tapestry of white and black ripples, bleaching it of all color. Dante dug his bare feet into the sand and leaned back for a moment, looking up at the sky. The moon had overwhelmed a lot of the stars with its light, but the other half of the sky was filled with stars. Dante stared up at them for a long moment, then shook his head and leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees and leaning his chin into one hand.
The nightmares weren’t even that bad. After this long, Dante knew how to deal with them. They were unpleasant, sure, but they passed quickly and it was fairly easy for him to shake them off on most days. If Dante was honest with himself, they weren’t the real cause that had driven him out here tonight. It was nothing that Malcolm had done, either. In fact, he was pretty sure Mal had the same problem that he did.
The truth was that Dante Hazard was just plain tired. Ever since he’d defected from the Navy to save Malcolm’s life, it had just been one thing after another. The Navy had apparently taken it personally, not to mention the fact that the recent uproar over the gods had driven them to come down harder on pirates in general. To Dante, it felt like they’d been running forever. He almost couldn’t remember what it was like before. And while he would do it again in a heartbeat, he was exhausted. Every time they turned around, the Navy was there, either attacking the Enterprise and her crew as a whole or going after Malcolm and Dante personally. All Dante really wanted was to be left alone; he was fairly sure he could convince Malcolm to quit picking fights with the Navy if the Navy would only stop picking fights with them first.
Dante raked wet hair out of his face and sighed, staring out over the waves. He didn’t know what to do anymore.
Tagged: Jackie!
Words: 842 $$ added
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Post by jacqueline on Jun 10, 2012 10:29:34 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,bTable][atrb=style, width:400px;][style=background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/2007/2007116.png); height:400px; width:100px; border-bottom-left-radius:20px;float:left;][/style][style=background-color:2C7877; height:400px; width:300px; border-bottom-right-radius:20px;float:right;][style=text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:24px; color:212F37; text-transform:lowercase;]under shiny plastic steeples,[/style][style=background-image:url(http://i268.photobucket.com/albums/jj13/Sakura16Haruno/Rikku/23977129.png); border-radius: 100%; height:100px; width:100px; margin-left:3px; opacity:0.8;][/style][style=margin-top:-100px;width:180px; text-align:justify; float:right; font-family: arial narrow; font-size:10px; color:212F37; text-transform:uppercase; padding:3px;]with walls around our weakness and smiles to hide the pain but if the invitation's open to every heart that's been broken maybe we'll close the curtain on our stained glass masquerade.[/style][style=float:center; width:270px; height: 250px; font-family: verdana; font-size:10px; overflow:auto; text-align: justify; padding:5px; color:black; margin-top:10px;]
She sat on the ledge of her window, looking out toward the ocean. It had been calling to her all day, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, willing her to come stick her feet into the cool depths. A small sigh touched the blonde's lips as she turned away, looking into her bed chamber. It was quiet, with everyone in the house asleep except for her. Then, the blonde turned away and pushed herself off the ledge. Free-falling was not nearly as nice as flying, but she didn't care. It made her feel free. At least as free as sneaking out at nightfall could feel. Jacqueline, as she was called, landed with a soft thud on the ground, unphased. Being a dragon had advantages, that was true. After landing, she stood up straight and brushed herself off, flipping her hair out of her face. Then, she began the slow walk toward the beach. It wasn't so far that she had to spend half the night doing so, since her parent's owned a castle just off the coast. But it was farther than she would have appreciated when she so desperately wanted to be there already.
It felt like eternity before her bare feet touched the soft sand. Relief swept over her, and she nearly collapsed right there, but she went a bit further until she was with the water. Any onlooker might think she was a mermaid or something with the way she acted, but she was far from that. Though she was good friends with Aurora. Delicate hands touched the water as it moved back in forth on the beach. She drew some of it away, into her hands. The salt sifted to the ground, leaving nothing but pure water. Jackie's hand went to her lips and she took a sip, relaxing even more than before as the cool wetness hit her throat. After the blonde had her fill, she sat back on the sand, keeping just her feet within reach of the waves. Nothing beat the pureness of the ocean water. Not even water from the tap. Although it was supposed to be pure, she found it tasted dirty. Her parents didn't understand this, since they were not water dragons, but fire ones instead. Her brother was no different. Oh, Xander. She loved her brother more than anything, but she had to be cautious around him, because her power was his greatest weakness. It made life in the castle a bit difficult when they were young and learning to control their abilities. But now, years later, he'd left home.
Jackie wondered what he was off doing on this night, with the moon so bright. Perhaps he would come visit her soon. If not, she would have to run away and find him herself. And not many people would appreciate that sort of thing. She knew Aurora's parents worried about her often enough. Looking up at the starry sky, the girl let out a soft sigh. She was enjoying the peaceful night, being alone. It was something she couldn't accomplish with so many damn people running around to make sure she was content. Often, she'd give her servants the day off, but they rarely listened to her, seeing as they saw her as this sickly, delicate little flower. But Jackie was far from that. She was a Bane, after all. And Banes were not weaklings, or else they wouldn't have gained the power they had.
When Jackie felt that she had enough strength to get up and walk along the beach, she did just that. She let her mind wander as she idly played with the gentle waves of water crashing around her feet. She was so caught up in her focus, she nearly walked over the gentlelad sitting on the sand. Luckily, she caught herself. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, taking a step backwards. "I feel so silly, I wasn't even paying attention! I didn't realize anyone would be out here so late!" She was starting to freak out a little, so upset that she'd nearly stepped on the poor stranger. It didn't help that upon closer look, he seemed injured. Well, not injured, but scarred. She'd seen them before. In a poster somewhere. Jackie didn't want to focus on that, though. She was more focused on making sure he was okay now. She dropped down to her knees and immediately began to look him over, to make sure she hadn't actually stepped on him and hurt him. "You're okay, right? I didn't hurt you at all?" she asked when she finally stopped looking him over. A small pout played on her lips as she tried her hardest not to be too upset with herself. Jackie really hadn't meant to be so air-headed. But it seemed as though she had to deal with her space-head now. And figure out a way to make it up to the man before her. She kind of felt sad for him. He was very handsome, even with the scar. She imagined he had been even more handsome when it wasn't there, but she tried not to think about that. Instead, she tried to focus on him as a person, not as a handsome face.
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Post by dante on Jun 11, 2012 8:53:04 GMT -6
Even though there was no one around on the beach (after all, not many people would be out there in the middle of the night), Dante still couldn’t help the feeling of being exposed. It wasn’t that he was out here without weapons or anything like that; he was fully capable of defending himself without his swords if need be, and in fact often preferred not to use them, so that he was less likely to kill his opponent. And if worst came to worst, he did have his fire, though the thought of using it while in human form made his stomach twist in discomfort.
No, what made him feel so exposed was the fact that there was nothing at all covering the scars on his torso. He almost always kept them covered beneath his clothing, even around Malcolm, who professed to find them sexy (Dante found that hard to believe; even two centuries later, the skin of the scars was still shriveled and dark. He expected they would look that way forever). He never liked when people saw them. The one on his face was bad enough, drew enough stares from passersby as it was. He already got enough uncomfortable questions about how a dragon could be so badly burnt. If people could see the rest of them, no doubt he would get more stares and more questions he didn’t want to answer. Not to mention pity. The last thing Dante wanted was pity.
He glanced down at his chest, the familiar patchwork of pale skin and dark scar tissue staring back at him. There wasn’t a rhyme or reason to how the scars were placed. Fire wasn’t exactly controlled that way. The scarring wrapped around his torso, some places worse than others. The back of his right shoulder, he knew, was particularly bad; it had gotten pinned under a burning beam in his escape from the burning house all those years ago, and he hadn’t been able to pull it out before it had gotten thoroughly scorched. The scarring continued down across his back and beneath the waistband of his pants. His arms and legs had them, too, though not as badly.
Dante was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts as someone suddenly bumped into him, nearly falling over him. His first instinct was to get up, get into a fighting position in case he was being attacked, but he curbed that. It hadn’t been an intentional attack; it had been someone spacing out and almost tripping over him. Nothing more sinister than that. Apparently he wasn’t the only one lost in thought on the beach in the middle of the night. He glanced up at the person who’d almost run him over. She looked vaguely familiar, a face he felt like he ought to know, but for the moment he couldn’t quite place her.
He was prepared for her to apologize and continue on her way, but she went a bit farther than that. Dante blinked as she babbled out an extensive apology, then gave a little shrug. ”It’s fine. You didn’t step on me or anything.” It had jostled him slightly, but nothing more. It certainly hadn’t hurt; he’d been shot, stabbed, and otherwise injured so many times in the past that this didn’t even register on his mental pain scale.
It didn’t seem to mollify the girl, however. She fell to her knees next to him, looking him over, apparently to see if he was injured. Dante shifted in the sand, uncomfortable both with how close she was to him and with the fact that she could see all of his scars in extensive detail from so close. No matter how hard he tried, and how hard Malcolm tried to convince him otherwise, Dante was still ashamed of the ugly, wrinkled scars. They were a sign of his failure as a dragon, a constant reminder to him that he was scared of something he himself could create. And though this woman couldn’t possibly know that, it still made him intensely uncomfortable to have her see, especially as his nose informed him she was another dragon. He wished he had brought something to cover them up with, but he hadn’t.
”I’m fine,” he snapped, more harshly than he had intended to. He was just on edge, not to mention very, very tired. Still, that didn’t mean he should take it out on her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So, after a moment, Dante forcibly stifled his temper. ”Sorry,” he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. ”I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to snap.”
Tagged: Jackie!
Words: 767 $$ added
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