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Post by freak on Jan 10, 2012 3:05:10 GMT -6
 Freak’s head spun like a top, her thoughts dull and sluggish as she slowly drifted back towards consciousness. The only thought she could quite focus on was that this was weird. Odd enough that she couldn’t remember falling asleep, but even more so that she hadn’t jerked awake suddenly out of a nightmare. She always had nightmares, and they inevitably woke her up abruptly. There was a reason she didn’t usually sleep more than a couple of hours at most on any given night. Even when she didn’t have a nightmare, which wasn’t often, she always woke up suddenly. It just wasn’t in her to lie there with her eyes closed for very long.
Slowly, she became aware of a throbbing in the back of her head. It was pounding like someone was taking a hammer to it… or had done so in the recent past. Freak wasn’t a stranger to getting whacked over the back of the head. She came to the realization gradually that that must have been what happened; it was the only reason that could explain the pain and the fact that it was taking her forever to claw her way back to consciousness. As soon as she realized it, Freak felt her heart start to pound and her breath speed up.
The adrenaline started to pump, helping her clear the last of the cobwebs out of her head. She stifled a noise of pain and tried to get to her feet, only to find that both her ankles and her wrists wouldn’t move. Freak opened her eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear the blurriness from her vision. Every muscle in her body tensed with fear and the rage that was always lurking at the edge of her thoughts, it took her panicking mind a moment to recognize where she was; the cabin she’d been in only once before, when Romanov had first let her onto the ship. His cabin. What the hell was she doing in here? Last thing she knew, she’d been pacing back and forth on the deck, like she always did when left with nothing else to do. She’d never willingly gone below the deck of the ship; she was too claustrophobic to feel at all comfortable in the tiny, usually windowless rooms. Someone had knocked her out and brought her here. But why?
She tried to twist free of the chair she’d been put in, but her wrists had been tied tightly together behind her and fastened to the back of the chair somehow. The position was more than a little bit uncomfortable, with the edges of the chair digging into her skin and her misshapen, stunted wings squished painfully between her back and the chair’s back. From the feel of it, her feet had been tied to the legs of the chair. Jerking around did no good; it was bolted to the ground, like most of the stuff on the ship, to keep it from sliding in case of a fight or something. Freak yanked at the ropes wildly, but to no avail. Whatever it was, it was strong stuff. She felt the skin split on her wrists, a bit of blood trickling down over her hands, but ignored it, continuing to pull at her bonds in sharp, panicked jerks.
Her mismatched eyes flickered around the cabin, trying to find anything that might help her. The walls seemed like they were beginning to close in; the small portholes didn’t let in nearly enough light, and the small room seemed to get smaller with every breath Freak took. The stuffy air seemed overwhelmingly so, to the point where Freak started to have trouble taking full breaths at all, feeling as though she was going to suffocate. With her arms pinioned behind her, her chest felt horribly exposed. If someone were to strike at it, she wouldn’t be able to do anything to defend herself. She wouldn’t even be able to move out of the way. That scared her more than anything else. She would be able to see it coming, but it wouldn’t matter.
Accompanying the mind-numbing fear that threatened to submerge what was left of Freak’s sanity was an overwhelming anger. The rage that always threatened to make her lose control was rising, as it always did in moments like this. She was furious at whoever it was who had put her here, for obvious reasons, but even more so she was mad at herself. She’d started to think she might be safe here. How stupid was that, to think she might be safe on a pirate ship, of all places? But she’d thought that, finally, she was out of the Navy’s hands. Romanov was one of the most infamous pirates of all time, never even coming close to being captured. She’d thought that maybe, finally, she wouldn’t have to keep running forever from the Navy. Plus, the moving from place to place had suited her restlessness. Even if it meant being confined to the deck of the ship for most of her days, she could at least feel the wind and the sun on her skin. She’d basically taken over the position of lookout; being high up in the crow’s nest suited her. The crew had even quit bothering her, for the most part. She’d had to fight a few of them off the first week or so, but since then they seemed to have gotten the message and left her alone.
But it had been a fucking stupid thing to do, to let her guard down even a little bit. She’d never had that kind of luck, never been able to settle down anywhere, even temporarily. The best she’d done was staying with that traveling circus for a couple of years. It had been dumb to expect that she could stay here for long without something going horribly wrong. She should have known better. Freak wrenched at her bonds again, boosting her strength for a moment in hopes that it would help. It didn’t; she just couldn’t get enough power behind it. Freak choked back a sound that might have been a whimper of fear and struggled to keep from losing herself completely in the roil of her emotions. It was a losing battle, but she would hold out as long as she could.
Tagged: Jerry :u
Words: 1057 $$ added
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Post by jericho on Jan 18, 2012 21:32:26 GMT -6
Jericho had known since day one that Freak wasn't completely right in the head, it was obvious, as the Navy just didn't make 'public danger' wanted posters for anyone. Especially for those who had once been normal civilians until a freak accident that forced them to call said person's sanity into question. The dragon was no fool, he knew he was taking a risk by letting the disturbed half-breed aboard his ship. His crew had been quick to judge, much to his surprise. As most of them were just like this girl, though they were generally much angrier than she was, which was something that Jericho had liked to see. It was one of the reasons why he had never formally invited her to join his pirate crew, among others. If he had to make a guess, though, it was probably the reason why the crew members didn't like her. They didn't trust her, that much was evident, often starting fights and even throwing slurs about her being a Navy spy. Jericho never believed any of that garbage, considering he had actually spent more than a minute with the girl.
He tried to treat her like he would anyone else, though that only worked for a few seconds after she first arrived, as she had been picked on since she boarded. The ancient dragon had come to see the girl as someone he felt the need to protect, much like he did with dotchka, whether they actually needed to or not. He did it also because his crew tended to need a little fear in them to get their goddamn job done. After he had 'talked' to one of his last crewman and then proceeded to throw him overboard [which was at least 300 feet above the sea level], that had pretty much stopped most of the outright fights that the assholes tried to start. Aleksandr had reported to Jericho that there had been several more attempts, but Freak had been able to either walk away or make them. Nothing he had to concern himself with; and Freak was a woman who liked their space. So he respected her's and only stepped in when it was absolutely necessary.
The Russian dragon had always known that the crewmen didn't like Freak. So when several of them had confronted him about a possible mutiny, with Freak right smack in the middle of it all, he was of course, skeptical. But skeptical or not, he had to treat her like he would treat anyone else on his crew, whether it made much sense or not. Jericho knew that the odds of the girl actually starting something like this was absolutely absurd, but mutiny was serious.. Very serious, and had to be treated as such. But because of the special circumstances, Romanov had had her put in his room instead of the brig. He had seen her when she felt cornered, and if she were to wake up in a small space, any attempts of trying to talk to the halfbreed would be shot. If there was anyone else but him here when she woke up, she would flip shit. So he had had them put her up in his cabin, to avoid her seeing or hearing anyone else but him. And just to make sure, he had his dotchka Ivy and trusted friend Aleksandr guarding any possible entries to his room to prevent anything from happening.
The girl had been out for awhile now, which was only natural, since she had been bludgeoned in the back of the head with the sheathe of a sword; at a dragon's strength. Jericho regretted having Aleksandr do it, despite his sneakiness. He was too used to making sure that things either stayed dead or unconscious for a very long time. But the ancient dragon had feared, and for good reason, that anyone else would have gotten hurt trying to capture Freak. Jericho was leaning against the wall of his cabin, his eyes glued to the same, leather-bound black book he carried around with him everywhere. It's ancient Russian text held many memories of a different and cherished time for the man, as well as some of the worst. It was much like the locket he kept hidden under his clothes. His blue eyes flickered up however the moment he heard Freak move. He slid the book back into his large trench coat pockets and slid his hands in there as well. He moved off of the wall and walked over towards the halfbreed, who was struggling in her chair. Having a definite and predicted panic attack. It's what he had expected, though he had been hoping it wouldn't have been as bad once she recognized where she was.
So much for that, he supposed.
Jericho's normal scowled had deepened quite a bit as he stopped to stand in front of the struggling woman in the chair. He made sure to hide his saber under his coat, as it would just make thins a hell of a lot worse. All he wanted were some straight answers and for all of this bullshit to stop. He was getting rather annoyed with his crew's behaviour, believing that he would fall for something so foolish and out of character? Their motive couldn't have been anymore obvious. He would have to deal with those responsible for all of this after he was done here with the girl. Jericho stepped off to the side of the chair and cut the bonds, setting Freak free. He immediately moved back over by the wall, having a feeling that she might try to lash out at him out of instinct. Jericho stared intently at Freak, waiting for some sort of reaction out of anger or fear. Most likely a powerful combination of both. He didn't dare say anything, either. He would wait until she did something before reacting at all. One bad move on his part, and things could turn ugly fast.
words: 1005 $$ added
notes: 8u
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Post by freak on Jan 28, 2012 6:58:56 GMT -6
As Freak jerked and thrashed spasmodically against her bonds, the rational part of her mind tried desperately to think of what night have caused this situation. She hadn't done anything out of the ordinary lately. Hell, she hadn't even been off the ship in more than a week. If she'd done anything wrong, someone would have seen it. But she hadn't. She'd even helped in the last fight with the Navy. Obviously Jericho had something to do with this, since she was inside his cabin, but she hadn't done anything to wrong the pirate. Which was why this made so little sense.
Up until this point, Romanov had seemed to be a perfectly reasonable person. He'd left her largely to herself, not expecting any kind of commitment or swearing of allegiance to him before offering to let her stay on the ship. He'd even been surprisingly tolerant of Freak's many neuroses, apart from the one incident the day she'd first come onto the ship. Even then, that had been motivated by seemingly benign intentions. What in hell's name had changed about that? He didn't strike her as the type to change his mind so quickly and violently.
Perhaps if Freak had known a bit more about the workings and power struggles present aboard pirate ships, she would have been able to figure out the answer. She might have connected such a harsh, sudden action with mutiny, the one thing no pirate captain could afford to overlook. But since she had no such knowledge, and had done no such thing, the answer remained firmly beyond Freak's currently limited reasoning abilities.
She heard a soft noise from the side of the room and immediately jerked her head around, looking for the source. Some part of her knew before she spotted the dragon leaning against re wall; who else would be in his personal cabin in a situation like this. She tried to form words, to ask what the hell was going on here, but that capability had deserted her in her roiling emotions. She choked on every attempt she made, only soft growls of rage and fear making it to the surface. It didn't take her long to just choke back all the noises that tried to escape her and just stare at Romanov as he walked towards her, her struggles slowing to a sort of tensed, violent shaking.
The moment in which Romanov stood over her seemed to stretch on infinitely for Freak. She couldn't see a weapon, but chances were good that he had one under his coat. The fact that he didn't have it out seemed a good sign, not that Freak was in much of a state to appreciate it. The rational part of her mind noticed that the look on his face was not one of anger or fury; instead it was a tired sort of frustration, and didn't seem to be aimed at her. That small consolation enabled Freak to hold on to her sanity just a little bit longer, though her heart was pounding so hard she half expected it to burst right out of her ribs.
The panic in her system spiked as he moved around behind her. The instant the bonds fell away, the wild, turbulent energy that had built up inside her exploded out. She managed (just barely) to curb the instinct to hit Romanov. Instead, she channeled all of the energy into movement. She catapulted out of the chair like an arrow from a bow. She had been facing away from the door, so her wild, primal instinct to flee took her instead to one of the windows set into the side of the cabin.
She fumbled with it for a moment before managing to get it open. The instant the cool air from outside touched her face, clearing the cabin's musty smell from her nose, Freak found her mind begin to calm. The fear and panic receded more readily as Freak pushed them down to the dark corner where they belonged. Her fingers grasped the edge of the window so tightly her knuckles went white. She took several deep, slow breaths until the urge to hyperventilate ebbed as well.
Once she was as calm as it was possible to be under the circumstances, Freak slowly turned back around to face Romanov, the panic on her face now replaced by wariness. A bit of rope still dangled from her wrist, stuck in the drying blood from the lacerations she had caused in her struggling, but she ignored it. "Romanov," she managed, her tone wary, "What the hell is going on?" She needed answers, and fast. Window or no, she could only hold it together for so long in a space as confined and claustrophobic as this.
Tagged: Jerry :u
Words: 795 $$ added
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Post by jericho on Apr 24, 2012 20:25:42 GMT -6
He was glad he had moved out of the way when he had, as the moment the ropes fell off the younger woman, Freak was a blur. A panicked and unthinking one, as she made a mad dash for the window. Jericho watched silently as she pried open the window, which he hadn't thought had been that tight to begin with. He slid his hands in his coat pockets, a small frown forming in the corner of his mouth. He knew this was wrong. There was absolutely no possible way that this girl, this innocent, tormented girl could possibly be a lone conspirator in a mutiny. It didn't seem like in her character to even comprehend the idea of wanting to take authority for herself. In fact, the idea of Romanov's authority didn't even seem to phase her- which in her condition, was probably a good thing. She was quiet, kept to herself and didn't do anything, in fear of bring attention to herself. She also didn't seem to know much about piracy in general, or how serious it needed to be taken at almost all times. If even the idea of challenging their Captain's authority was challenged, it usually meant death.
With all of that taken into consideration, it was evident that Freak didn't have the capacity to even consider mutiny. It was impossible. She probably didn't even know what it truly meant. What concerned Jericho the most however, was that his crew seemed to think that they could simply.. Manipulate him like this. They should have known by now that Jericho Romanov was not a stupid man, not by far. Even if they didn't know about Freak's true personality, they would know enough about her to know that she probably wouldn't ever come up with a mutiny conspiracy. It was ridiculous for them to even believe that the ancient dragon would fall for this. Since he had been first told of Freak's supposed 'plans' to take over the ship, he had been conflicted. Torn between being absolutely, out-rightly furious and being tiredly annoyed. Sometimes he felt that he was getting too old to deal with the younger generation of pirates' bullshit. If they wanted to scare an old man, they'd certainly have to put up a far more convincing lie.
Jericho had moved back towards his old spot against the wall, but close enough so he could keep an eye on Freak. There wasn't a way for her to escape, since he was the only one with the key, but he would feel uneasy if his golden eyes weren't able to see the younger woman at all times. It had also occurred to the older man that this could also be their way of trying to test him, as if wanting to prove that he had some sort of favoritism towards the young girl. It was a little more bearable than the idea of his own crew believing him to be an old fool. His frown returned completely as the troubled halfbreed looked back towards him, her face twisted and confused. "Romanov," Jericho blinked, automatically looking up and turning his attention to her at the calling of his name. "What the hell is going on?" the old man stared at her, replying plainly. "The crew. They have accused you of mutiny." he sighed tiredly. "Because of how serious that accusation is, I had no choice but to do what I did."
He expected her to be furious with him, to want to scream or even bite him. Jericho only could hope that she would understand, given his position and situation. He could not afford to play favourites, as the crew already found fault with him in relying on Ivy and Aleksandr so heavily. The last thing he needed was for them to have a real reason or god-forbid, an opportunity to stage an actually mutiny. Being that they were out in the middle of nowhere and that they would be there for weeks, it would be nearly impossible, even for Jericho to fight off an entire crew of rebels. There was no doubt that Ivy and Aleksandr would side with their Captain, who they had sworn their lifelong loyalty to- but many of their crewmen were magical too, and with their numbers? Even they wouldn't be able to take all of them down without dying first. Jericho stepped out into the middle of his cramped cabin, his hands still hidden and a sword was nowhere to be seen. "I hope you were not harmed terribly." He gave her a small nod and brief look of sincerity, as she probably wouldn't have believed him otherwise. Not that he blamed her in the slightest, not at all. The silver-haired man was just relieved to see that she was handling herself better than he had anticipated.
words: 808 $$ added
notes: finally replied.
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Post by freak on May 5, 2012 2:37:50 GMT -6
Even with her back to the window, Freak could still feel the cool outside air seeping through her ever-tangled hair, brushing lightly against the back of her neck. It was enough to give her something to hold on to, a reminder that just because the cabin was small and the walls seemed to be pressing inwards inexorably, she wasn’t back in that lightless place beneath the ground. There was a reason Freak had never stayed in a building willingly for very long; anytime the air started to smell musty, or grow hot and stifling on her skin, she had trouble fighting off the memories. The horrible dark beneath the ground had been completely devoid of fresh, cool air, or even the slightest of breezes except when immediately followed by a blow. It was also why Freak couldn’t stand to sleep indoors; when she inevitably woke from a nightmare, the movement of air on her skin was often the first thing to bring her back to the present and remind her that she’d gotten away… at least for the moment.
Freak’s useless wings twitched nervously on her back as she shifted closer to the window, eying Romanov cautiously. The dragon didn’t seem angry with her, but he definitely didn’t look happy. And he was eying her with the same sort of wariness that she was him. What did he expect her to do? Well, if she was honest with herself, Freak knew the answer to that. Of all the people on the ship, Romanov knew the most about what she’d been through. The things that triggered her temper, and her fear, as well as the violence she tended to react with when either was set off. The fact that he’d put up with all of that and hadn’t yet booted her off his ship, despite all the trouble the crew got up to concerning her, was one of the reasons she’d slowly begun to let her guard down around him for the first time in a very long time.
Freak blinked at the answer Jericho gave her. She understood the accusation part, but it took her a moment to remember what ‘mutiny’ even meant. It was an idea completely alien to Freak, particularly considering her current situation. She’d never entertained the slightest idea of leading anybody; she had more than enough trouble taking care of herself, without taking on responsibility for anybody else to boot. And, even though she generally preferred to go her own way, when it came to matters involving other people she almost inevitably took on more of a follower’s role, mostly because she still had very little idea how to even interact with people properly. Another fun little token of Vajra’s influence on her life; the only talking she’d done for the first century or so of her life was to plead for the pain to stop, and eventually that had gone silent when she realized it only brought mockery. It wasn’t exactly a good foundation for learning how to deal with people. Plus, she couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone enough to really teach her, so she was permanently stuck in a grey area.
In any case, the idea of leading was so against Freak’s nature that she would never even have coveted Romanov’s position as captain. Her eyebrows drew together as she dredged her memory for the meaning of the ‘mutiny’. ”Mutiny?” she repeated, the look on her face only growing more confused as she remembered the meaning. ”Isn’t that when someone tries to take over a ship? Or something?” She thought about it for a moment more, but couldn’t come up with anything else he might have meant.
The crew was responsible for this, huh? Freak’s mouth twisted slightly with anger as her temper started to rear up against the mental restraints she’d put on it. Why couldn’t those stupid rat bastards just leave her alone? What did they want from her, that they had to try and ruin this arrangement for her? For the first time, she wasn’t having to run from town to town every two days, and even though the ship was small, the crow’s nest provided her with more than enough wide open space to keep her from getting too restless. It was a good place, out of the reach of the Navy. Why wasn’t she allowed to not be miserable, just for a while? But Freak fought her temper, pushing it back down, so her voice was quiet and controlled as she looked at Romanov again. ”Why the hell would I even want that?”
Even if she had the slightest inclination towards leadership, Freak would never have wanted to wrest control of the ship from Romanov, of all people. He’d been kinder to her than essentially any other person she’d ever met, offering her sanctuary for basically nothing in return and fending off the crew when she had first come aboard and their harassment had been more forward. And even beyond that, promising that the thing who’d ruined her would never touch her while he was around. Protecting her, basically, from everyone else and from herself. He’d even tried to push her towards getting better, though there hadn’t been much luck with that so far. Preoccupied with her thoughts and keeping control on her temper, Freak just shook her head at Romanov’s implied question. The rope still hung from the nasty abrasions on her wrists, but it was a far cry from the worst injury she’d ever caused herself in a panic or a rage. ”It’s fine. I’ve done a lot worse before.” Freak fought the urge to pace; it wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and right now the window was her lifeline. So, instead, she just sort of twitched back and forth in place, shifting weight from foot to foot, and waiting for Romanov to figure out what he wanted to do so she could get back out on deck as soon as possible.
Tagged: Jerry :u
Words: 997 $$ added
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