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Post by malcolm on Aug 5, 2012 15:57:09 GMT -6
Malcolm loathed the Navy with an undying passion. They weren't what they had been when he had signed up for them so many years ago. They didn't seem to care what they did or how it was done, just as long as their brand of 'justice' was served, whether it was actually just was a whole other issue in itself. The halfbred pirate hadn't even done anything wrong, but because of what the top brass had spread about the blonde man, every idiot in a uniform believed him to be a murderer, a monster, like they did with every other criminal. Many of the so called 'pirates' Malcolm had met in his day were no more of a monster than Dante, his husband was. The blonde liked to think he wasn't that bad either, but he had to remember that he actually had done some of the things he was wanted for. Aiding and abetting were a given, due to the fact he had to come to his husband's rescue once or twice [though Dante had done it so many more times]. Assault on an officer was a given, but notice how all of his crimes had involved a navy officer or navy property. Not once had he ever harmed a civilian. And he wouldn't either, as long as he remained in human form, he couldn't ever even consider harming an innocent civilian.
So the whole point of this chase was pure bullshit. Someone must've framed him or weaseled out of a charge using a pirate name- because there was no way Malcolm Hazard ever would've robbed and murdered an eight year old human girl. It wasn't his style, hell, he didn't even have it in him to hurt humans generally. Sympathizing greatly with them, as being half of one, he just couldn't bring himself to intentionally hurt one. Especially in such a senseless matter as the little girl had died. Malcolm couldn't even fathom how the Navy figured they could pin this all on him, or how they had even known he was here. He had only been here a day and ventured out to the city near the bayou a few hours ago for supplies and such. He figured he and his crew would've been safe here, as law was a little more than.. Flexible in this part of the Caribbean.
It had started out the minute he had been checking out a small market in town square, which basically consisted of five shacks and a rundown fountain. Suddenly, the Navy appeared, shouted his name and something about the murder of a girl before rushing after him. Dropping the glass he had been holding, the blonde had bolted, going as fast as his legs could carry him. He heaviest thing he had on him was his cutlass, which he knew better than to drop. If he were backed into a corner, it would probably be the only advantage the blonde pirate captain would have. So the scabbard to the cutlass swayed on his belt at his side as he ran, not realizing that he had walked right into the notoriously deadly bayou even the locals avoided. It was said to house evil demons and escaped convicts- those who were far more dangerous than he could ever be. Malcolm stopped about a hundred or so feet in, looking back at where he had entered the bayou. He could still hear the officers, though some were slowing down as they grew closer to the entrance to the Bondye Bayou.
Not wanting to wait for them to catch up, Malcolm sped off deeper into the swampy marsh, his feet sinking further and further into the sticky mud the farther he tread in. He soon found that one of his feet were stuck in the mud and his face kissed it as he fell to the ground. Picking himself up quickly, Mal spat out pine needles and dirt, his face and exposed torso now caked in wet bayou grade muck. He attempted to pull out his foot, harder and more spontaneous as the sound of the persistent officers grew closer. An absent growl escaped the blonde as he tugged repeatedly, feeling as his foot finally pull free. He jumped to his feet and began to run again, hoping to put more space between himself and the officers. Suddenly, the sound of a shotgun went off, then another. They were far closer than he had realized, as the excitement and the overwhelming sounds and unfamiliar scents of this place had clouded the man's superior senses almost completely.
The officers were close behind, almost within a normal human's earshot. But with the way things were going and Malcolm's rising anger, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. His other self was bubbling inside of him, eager for blood and to unleash the frustration it had been building up since it had been last seen several years before. Mal didn't really remember what happened, but his husband did and hadn't wanted to have to tell him the details. If the blonde knew anything about his other self, which he did, it probably was cruel and horrible, as well as gory. He soon found himself trapped, the trees grown all too close together to find an easy exit, the only clear one being where he had just entered and the officers were only a few heartbeats behind. Malcolm huffed, his body aching with the desire to change. He fell to his knees, trying to fight it. He knew he couldn't be a slave to this anymore, but he just couldn't STOP it.. It was too strong- stronger than his pathetic human side. The wolf side had always been stronger, something that could ensure victory when he needed it.. Just like he did now.
The officers arrived no sooner than expected. With their swords out, one stepped in front and shouted at the blonde on his knees. "Captain Malcolm Hazard, you are under arrest for the murder and robbery of Catlina Moriarty, now if you wou-" the man paused, taken aback by the bloodcurdling shriek of a wolf that came from the man he had been here to arrest.
words: 1034
notes: >w> dante?
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Post by dante on Aug 13, 2012 15:27:50 GMT -6
 When he allowed himself to think about it, Dante always wished he could believe in the Navy like he used to. He wished he could put his faith in the organization he’d dedicated more than two-thirds of his life to, could believe that they were doing the right thing by the world. He had believed it when he was a part of it, obviously. Had always thought that the Navy would give everyone the fair treatment they deserved (even criminals, though fairness and lenience were two different things).
But he couldn’t anymore. That illusion had been irrevocably shattered years ago, when he had watched the Navy prepare to execute a man whose only real crimes were those the Navy had driven him to commit. A good man, in most ways, though no less flawed than anyone else in the world. Dante hadn’t been able to stand by and watch Malcolm die, and ever since then his previously unshakeable faith in the goodness of the Navy had been slowly beaten away until there was nothing left. He knew how corrupt it was, how they skewed the truth to suit their own purposes. They had declared Dante a criminal within hours of his defection, without even giving him a chance to defend himself. They had repeatedly used Dante and Malcolm against each other, and had gone so far as to torture the former to try and get information out of him.
Dante no longer wanted anything to do with the Navy. Malcolm was still out for revenge against them, but Dante would have liked nothing better than to just leave it all behind. But even if he could have convinced Mal (which he probably could, if he tried hard enough), he knew the Navy would never stop pursuing them. They were both defectors, Malcolm one of the most infamous of all time. Their continued freedom was a big middle finger in the Navy’s direction, and Dante had come to understand that they would never stop until the two pirates were executed for their supposed crimes.
Knowing that, he had argued against Mal going off to the market by himself, especially since the Navy had been hot on their trail recently, but Mal had gone anyway. Dante’d spent the next ten minutes pacing back and forth, unable to relax, and finally had just gone after him. If nothing bad happened, no harm done, but if the Navy showed up again he wanted to be there, just in case.
As it turned out, Dante’s instincts had served him well. He reached the tiny, dingy marketplace of the town just in time to hear the Navy’s shouts as a squad went after Mal, shouting something about murder. He saw his blond husband sprint out of the square, chased by the entire group of Navymen. With an irritated growl, Dante took off after them. He wasn’t the fastest runner, especially since he was shorter than Mal by a considerable amount, but he was determined, pounding along at the same pace long after many people would have tired. He managed to keep the tail end of the Navy group in sight, though he couldn’t close the gap.
His breath came hissing in and out through his teeth, legs pumping beneath him. His matched swords, which he had (for once) brought with him, bumped in their sheaths against his hip and back. He followed the Navy squad out of the little town and into the infamous bayou, grimacing as his feet began to sink into the ground with each step. Still, he pushed himself on after them; he wouldn’t leave Mal to face them alone.
Dante didn’t realize the chase had stopped until he heard the inhuman sound from somewhere beyond the group of Navy men. The dragon’s golden eyes widened with his realization of what was happening. Mal had lost control.
”Damnit,” he cursed breathlessly. He was used to Malcolm’s alternate form by now, having taken the responsibility upon himself to make sure Mal didn’t hurt anyone when he lost control, but those Navy men were not. Mal’s other form was a feral, vicious wolf that tore through anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. It would rip through the unsuspecting Navy squad in an instant, and despite his professed hatred for the Navy, Dante knew Mal didn’t like when he killed people in his other form. The dragon huffed and pushed himself harder, speeding up as he neared the scene.
None of the Navy men saw him coming, their attention focused on the transformation in front of them. Dante barged through them without pausing, knocking men to the side as he shoved past. He broke past them, into the space between the group and Mal, and saw his husband on the ground in the throes of the transformation. Dante hissed in annoyance and fury that the Navy had driven Mal to this (again), whirling to face the Navy men at the sound of a sword being drawn.
The Navy leader pointed his sword at Dante. ”Dante Steele, you are under arr—“
”It’s Hazard,” Dante snapped, eyes flashing. ”And unless you idiots all want to die here today I suggest you back. Off.”
The Navy man sneered. ”You seriously think you can kill all of us?”
Dante snorted. ”Probably. But in any case, I’m more worried about him at the moment.” Without waiting for a response, Dante turned his back on the Navy men. Forcing himself to slow his breathing, he rose onto the balls of his feet, watching Mal carefully. If Mal’s wolf side attacked, he had to be ready to defend himself and the morons behind him.
Tagged: Mal. |D
Words: 942
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