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Post by dante on Oct 9, 2011 20:57:43 GMT -6
 It had taken Dante a long time to come to terms with the hard, sudden turn that his life had taken. He had gone from being a respected officer of the Navy, likely on his way to a higher rank, to being a wanted criminal in less than a day. He’d become a pirate, the very thing he’d always despised. He’d ended up following the very man responsible for his “corruption”. He’d never admit it, but he’d fallen in love with the insensitive asshole. But even so, his change in identity remained hard to Dante to stomach.
But then, the Navy had come up with this horrible plan to just wipe out all of the pirates in the world by stealing the power of the dying gods. Dante had never been a particularly religious person, but something about the idea of taking the divine power left a bad taste in the back of his throat. Not to mention that, despite having once believed that all pirates should be brought to justice, eradicating them all indiscriminately was going too far.
Understandably, faced with such a thread, the pirates of the world had risen up, forming into three main factions against the Navy. One of them had decided to destroy the Navy, much like the Navy planned on destroying them. In return, the Navy had quit playing nice, so to speak. They pulled out all the stops, using whatever means necessary to kill or capture the wanted criminals still at large. It made Dante sick to think about how far the Navy had fallen. He couldn’t go back now, even if he thought they would let him return, particularly after a recent encounter with them had left him with a few new burn scars decorating his already disfigured body. He wouldn’t be a part of the organization the Navy had become. The things he’d seen them do… it wasn’t the Navy he’d been a part of anymore.
Dante struggled to hold onto his thoughts as a fresh wave of pain burned through his body, but the agony overwhelmed him for a moment. He lost himself in it for a brief second, then resurfaced, breath coming in tight gasps. He staggered and slumped against the wall, shaking, his knees locked to prevent their imminent collapse. He had no idea how far he had come in this haze, nor how far he still had to go to get back to the Enterprise. He couldn’t think that far ahead. It was hard enough to stay on his feet right now.
He’d run into a Navy patrol by accident on his way back to the ship. Normally, he was able to avoid them, but before he even saw them, one had thrown some sort of spell at his back. The scars on his torso and face had exploded with pain, burning as though he were back in the inferno that had destroyed his home as a child and left him permanently scarred. He didn’t think there was any actual physical aspect to it, but his brain was convinced that he was back in his memories, his body once again on fire. Waves of agony burned through him with every beat of his heart. Dante was no stranger to pain, but this… no one could be unaffected by this.
Visions of flames flashed sporadically in front of Dante’s eyes as he struggled along, flashbacks from the past that the spell had dragged to the surface. He’d managed to get away from the Navy somehow – his memory of it was a bit hazy – but between the pain and the way his vision kept fuzzing in and out, he wasn’t making very much headway.
With the pain from the spell, Dante was only vaguely aware of the wound sluggishly bleeding in his side. As Dante reached the area around the docks, the blood loss finally got to him and he staggered again. This time, his legs crumpled beneath him, sending the young dragon sprawling on the street.
He managed to pull himself to the wall and set his back against it. His head leaned back against the wall, his eyes closing as he shook with the effort of suppressing the pain. A low moan escaped his throat before he choked it off again. He didn’t have the mental energy to move anymore. He just hoped someone (ideally a friend, but he would be open to anyone who could make the pain stop) came along soon, while he was still somewhat aware of his surroundings.
Tagged: Mal~
Words: 755 $$ added
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Post by malcolm on Oct 19, 2011 19:30:59 GMT -6
Malcolm hadn't been close to anyone in a long time. It was never really intentional, but it was harder to find someone eligible to date when you're out at sea for most of the year, and that you make your living by raiding ships and stealing. The only other people that seemed to want to date a pirate was another pirate, and Malcolm knew from experience that they made terrible partners. No matter what the Navy said, Captain Malcolm Hazard was a good person. He just ended up with a raw deal and had no choice but to go into piracy. The sea and sailing were the only things he knew how to do occupationally, and he was much too old to learn a new trade altogether. Besides, the Navy specifically wanted him, since he was accused for murdering the kid of somebody very important in the Top Brass. Being wanted for that type of thing made it pretty damn hard to get a job anywhere. So his thinking was, if the Navy said he had done these things, why not just go ahead and do most of them? Except for the killing of innocent people.. That would never be his style.
He'd been running around rogue for almost 50 years before Dante had showed up. Dante Steele was a former Navy Captain, believe it or not. He'd changed his perspective on somethings, and heightened some others. Dante was young and headstrong, but he had a concrete set of morals, and that was a good thing. Mal admired that, partially missing that same attitude that he used to have. When he looked at the young dragon, he saw small reflections of himself. What he used to be, and what he'd been like when he had been criminalized. He was still angry at the Navy, even after a half a century. He'd given a majourity of his life to the organization, and as soon as something that he couldn't control happened? They threw him under a bus and called him a killer. Before he'd met Dante, his anger had cooled, and he was finally moving on with his life. Yes, he was still a pirate. But he stopped purposely harming anyone who swore allegiance to the Navy, at least. If they wanted to throw their lives away like that, that was their choice.
After many years, he went quiet. He and his crew on the Enterprise went completely off the charts, docking only when they absolutely had to, and only raiding small time cargo ships that nobody would really miss. There was barely ever a struggle, so people were surviving raids by the Enterprise without a scratch. Malcolm had grown tired of the senseless violence, and just wanted to live quietly off the map. When he had enough cash, maybe even retire and work in a shop or something. The Navy had even stopped sending bounty hunters and officers after him too, which was a breath of fresh air for the blonde half-breed.
And then Dante showed up.
As mentioned before, Dante had been a Navy Captain. He had tried to take him on in a bar fight, as apparently one of his posters hadn't been taken down. Dante had been the first man to come after him in almost ten years, and nobody resisted him when he went on raids.. So you can imagine that he was a little rusty when the kid had drawn his sword. Mal had won, of course, taking the young dragon as his trophy. One thing led to another, and after being rescued by the kid from being executed by the Navy, the kid was now on his crew. It'd had been almost six months since then and it seemed that Dante was finally settling in, Which was nice, since it was obvious that the kid was uncomfortable around people he had been arresting up until about a year ago. But it wasn't even the execution that had made Malcolm so enraged with the Navy once again. It had been what they had charged Dante with after they had found out he'd let himself be captured by a pirate. They were going to send him to prison, for something that wasn't his fault.
In those six months, the two men had grown... Close, he supposed was the best way to put it. The blonde half-breed was indeed, in love with Dante. And he knew that the younger dragon felt the same way about him, even if he hadn't said it. He found it amusing, as despite all of the younger man's masculinity and denial about any feelings he felt for the cocky pirate, he sure did tend to wear his emotions on his sleeve like any emotional woman would. He could read Dante like an open book, even if he wasn't in front of him. So when he had disappeared for longer than he said he would, Malcolm had a feeling that something was wrong. Dante wasn't the type of person to dawdle on anything, so the very thought of him being gone for more than an hour later than he had said he would was just insanity. So without telling anyone else on deck, he went off in search of his mate.
His scent was fairly easy to track, so it didn't take Malcolm long to pick up on it. Dragons had an unforgettable scent; a combination of sulfer and something else the blonde pirate couldn't really put into words. Arrogance? No, pride was probably a better way to put it. But the normal scents that raduated off of Dante were masked, by a combination of fear and pained scent. Mal hastened his approach, quickly coming across the younger man slumped against the wall. The half-breed frowned, rushing to his side. "Dante!" he bellowed, crouching down in front of him. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" he asked, his nose wrinkled in disgust, scenting the fowl stench of Navy on the younger man. A deep growl escaped his throat, scenting them everywhere. "The rotten bastards just won't ever leave us alone.." he spat, standing up in front of the younger dragon, watching as several uniformed men approached them.
words: 1038 $$ added
notes: >>;; took forever to finish.
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Post by dante on Nov 25, 2011 13:07:09 GMT -6
Gods, it hurt. Dante’s teeth ground together, breath hissing out from between them in short, painful bursts. His jaw ached from the pressure, but he couldn’t seem to keep from clenching his teeth against the pain. It was the only way to hold back the groans of pain that threatened to burst out of his throat. He shook with the effort, eyes glazing over as he slipped into a hellishly vibrant flashback.
His entire body was on fire. He could feel his clothes smoldering against his skin, the stickiness oozing from the skin gone numb from the flames. His clothes were stuck to him all over. His eyes watered from the smoke and the fear. Above the smell of the black smog that filled the house, Dante could smell his own flesh burning.
He stumbled through doorway after doorway, his familiar house transformed into a hellish labyrinth by the flames that blazed around every corner. He had no idea which way to go to get out. He couldn’t tell what room he was in, and his panicked mind kept him from seeing any of the clues that might have told him where he was, or which way to go to get out. He kept going, staggering through whatever doorway was clearest of the flames. They licked at him when he got too close, but his body couldn’t burn anymore. It was already too much pain for his ten-year-old body to handle.
He picked up speed, hurtling as fast as he dared through the hallways. He bulled through a doorway, only to be faced with a dead end. A cracking sound snapped through the air above him. A beam crashed down in front of him, sending up an enormous cloud of sparks. Dante recoiled, crying out, and felt the burning embers hit his face.
Then a voice from outside snapped him out of his flashback. Dante blinked and looked up, forcing himself to clear his mind. It took a moment to remember the all-too-familiar voice, and a moment more for the face beneath the messy blonde hair to swim into focus. ”Mal,” he gasped out, wincing as the spell made him feel again as a collapsing chunk of ceiling beam caught him across the shoulders. He tried to explain what was happening, but a groan came out instead.
”A spell,”’ he finally managed, trying to reassure his concerned lover. ”It’s a spell.” It hurt, but shouldn’t be life threatening. Apart from the way he had gone pale, the way his body reacted to the pain it imagined it was going through, nothing was physically wrong with him, or so he thought (there was the wound in his side, but he couldn't feel it among all the other pain). The spell would wear off. It was only meant to debilitate him, to keep him from fighting back while they took him in. It couldn’t last too much longer – his memory had almost reached the point where he had originally passed out.
Dante struggled to keep his grip on reality as the spell’s enforced vision tried to take him under again. He managed it, forcing away the flames and chaos, but it was an uphill fight. The spell seemed to sense that it was running out of time, pushing harder to drive Dante out of his mind with the pain. He held on, though – he’d been through a lot of pain in his life, young as he was. He was stronger than they gave him credit for.
Through blurred vision, he saw the men coming up behind Mal. Before he could find the strength to cough out a warning, Mal had already become aware of their presence. The taller man stood up and turned his back to Dante, placing himself between the weakened dragon and the approaching Navy men.
”Hazard,” one of them said warily, the men coming to a stop a few yards away from Dante and his mate. ”Figures we would find you here. I don’t suppose it’d be worth it to ask if you’re coming quietly?”
Even as the man spoke, Dante’s eyes were drawn to the man standing just behind the leader. The dragon watched as the second man made a slight gesture with his hand – and the pain exploded anew within Dante, garnering a surprised, pained groan from the injured dragon. ”It’s him – in the back. The mage,” he choked out, groaning again as the man increased the spell’s power even more.
Tagged: Mal~
Words: 734 $$ added
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