Everytime she closed her eyes.

[``MIA]

The ship was fearsome in both size in appearance, a vessel one might call the perfect pirate ship. To the empty and cold brigs down below, up to the Captain's quarters above, the ship was a glorious thing. It's crew were lively and strong, healthy even despite their reputation; and even though fearsome, their half-bellowed songs after a bit of rum were more welcoming than their teeth were. Their Captain was a fearsome man, who stood tall, a broad shouldered figure that commanded attention. He was handsome, an attribute he had put to use many times before, but not without flaw. Scars littered his body in multiple places, some worse than others. More often than not, a new crew member would catch themselves staring for too long, only to earn himself a black eye and a night in one of the cells down below.

It wasn't that the Captain cared about appearances, his crew would whisper when his back was turned, but they knew he was sensitive. Each scar was a story, he had told each one after they met, of none other than that great pirate Ramsey O'Connell himself. Of course they were all curious and eager to hear the story, but Ramsey wasn't a man to voice his secrets as often as people would like. He would say that he was actually proud of the scars, and for some this happened to be true, but there was one he looked upon with disdain. Down along his left eye was a puckered and ugly thing, one that dragged down from his hairline to his cheekbone. It had been lucky his eye had been saved from the torture of it.

What no one knew was that he got this flaw a long time past, from when he had been but a child. He had gone into the city after his younger brother, Ronan, in an attempt to get him back after he realized a mutual friend of theirs had been playing them the whole time. But to his horror, he had had been a minute too late. The city had been in havoc, and out of anger because he was not allowed in, Ramsey attacked the first guard of the Queen he could find. He still had the scar as a reminder, of his failure to find the little brother he had promised to protect since their parents had died.

But there was a chance to redeem himself. Though he didn't much care for the planet Dread, not that it's given name made it sound pleasant, it would always be the place where Ronan and Ramsey grew up. And though Ramsey hated the place with a passion, he could still hear his brother praising each little corner where they had lived and played, good memories that didn't make the place as dreary as it was. He could save the planet, bring back some peace to himself, and maybe he wouldn't have to look back on the past with bitterness.

"Captain, what're we to do with the little miss?"

"Do what ya' want, lad. She has no purpose t'me."

"But Captain, she's going on about knowing where Davis is going."

There was a moment where a groan of annoyance slipped passed his lips, but with a nod of his head he spoke again. "Send her in then."

It wasn't long until the short and plump returned, the door opening to reveal a woman in strange clothing that Ramsey had never seen before. "Explain, lass." He then demanded, dropping a map down in front of her. "If ya' can tell me his next destination, I won't toss ya' into t'next meteor shower."




Albatross was a place of metal. The buildings were large and foreboding, the ground more cement than anything else, and the people even colder than the metal itself. A large building was dedicated to the prisoners, though most of them didn't belong there in the first place, and one of them was a young woman by the name of Alice Farley. For most of her young life, she had been nothing but a little servant to none other than Captain O'Connell, as a punishment for what she had done when they had been younger. Some may wonder why she stuck around, others may question why the Captain even let her live, but it was only a story that both of them kept in the back of their dark minds.

It was only now did the Captain truly punish the girl. In a quick escape to get away from the Naval ship after them, Ramsey had given them her, an object of their desire for quite some time. Alice may not look like much, but it wasn't what she did, but more of what she was. The planet she had lived on was home to a special kind of people; some would call them witches, they call themselves gifted. Each had a power of their own, and because of that, the Queen feared their existence. In fright of the unknown, their planet had been destroyed along with Alice's family, leaving her the only known of her kind left. In the mix of chaos that Ramsey had left amongst his departure, Alice was taken, and sentenced to death immediately after.

And so here she stood, chained to others in a long line to await their death, her blond curls tangled and her body bruised from mistreatment. She hardly heard the sound of a man calling her name over the rapid beat of her own heart.
[/size]

[Mur]

He had been right. He had been so right, and she hadn’t believe him. How could she, though? When a handsome man came knocking at her door, going on about her novels, she expected him to be a fan, not feigning interest just long enough to tell her that everything was...well, real. That job, she believed, was reserved for the mentally insane. But she had been wrong, and he had been right, and everything had felt like a terrible dream since the accident.

Knowing these worlds, this place was an advantage. An advantage that she intended to use to hers. Half of her still believed she created it all, too far in denial of the impossible to believe in it’s own conception. A different place, a different time, a different people. It had been a created fantasy, something etched with the dark ink of a pen on late nights with a glass of wine or a handful of tears from a tragic day. Her critical response had been astounding, and even better the praise of peers, and adoration of fans. She had grown used to it, the comfortable lifestyle she inherited after years of hardship. And then that blue eyed boy with the charming smile had to wander into her life and bring her here.

Home was now an absent comfort. The soft, broad willow trees in the back yard and the rush of the wind through her hair had vanished. Reinvented itself in a world that she had created. A world that she should have known like the back of her hand. Briony Devereux had created Dread. She had invented Albatross. It’s inhabitants were works of fiction, her created dreams, fantasies. This was her world, and she should have been able to control it. Her assurance and belief in that fact had been one of the soul factors keeping her alive. Keeping her from a mental breakdown, throwing herself over the edge of the ship like so many of the men surrounding her thought may be a good idea. Her flaw was trusting herself, and in turn, trusting the men she believed so strongly to be under her rule.

But the bruises upon her palms felt so real. And until she could figure out how to wake up, she had to stay in control. Of herself, and the situations forming her experience.

The exchange of information was the easiest way to earn a pirate’s respect. Perhaps not their trust, or their compassion, but their attention as more than just a slave of useless piece of trash. She knew who they were, and she could claim to know their life stories, but the truth was nothing but relative now. If she could earn their attention, then perhaps she could earn her keep. Becoming a piece of value in the moment was more important than the scheme of getting home. Or, as she believed, merely waking from the nightmare that engulfed her.

She had requested to speak with the Captain, whose name and history she thought she may have created as a whole. The deliberation as to whether or not she would be allowed to see him, however, took some time. The short crewman that had been sent to petition for her returned, and she stared at him with expectant eyes. A nod confirmed she was not simply a waste, and with a tug of her wrist she was led before the captain.

Ramsey’s figure was easily recognizable as captain among the men. His mass was the first thing that most noticed, the height of his stance and structure of body. But as he turned to her, his face seemed far softer than anyone might give him credit for. Both sterner, and stranger than she could have interpreted, but there was something in his eyes, however cruel his demeanor, words, and reputation may be, that seemed affected by some sorrow.

“If I do tell you, sir, I have no proof that you wont attempt to kill me anyways.” She stated firmly, trying to stand tall as she drew a slow, calming breath into her chest, trying to ignore the churning of her stomach. “Bartering with your word doesn’t mean anything with me - offer me something to eat, and I’ll tell you what you want to know, Captain.”



The strangeness of returning home matched the strangeness of not really being there. Albatross was not truly his home, but it reminded him now that he was close enough for it to matter. Ronan O’Connell had lived what he truly believed to be an extraordinary life, despite the hardness and cruelty of his young life. An adventurer at heart, the moral philosophy of his home, his world had sustained him as a child. Dread was his home; the most impoverished planet he had ever had the opportunity to explore. As a child, he had scorned it. Wondered why the dirt of the floors was not gold of coins, and hated, yet admired, those with more than he had ever been given - even by his brother’s kindness. But it was this desire that had gotten him into trouble.

When he was a child, he placed his trust in those he thought deserving, only to find out that the promises he had believed so foolishly in had been empty gifts. Being young, he believed what anyone told him. Especially the words of his elder brother, Ramsey. But somewhere along the way they had befriended the wrong person, and he wound up in a world that he had never known. And it was this person, for reasons too unbelievable to describe, that Ronan was now risking his life to save. And now that he had returned, there was nothing on this planet that could stop him.

“Alice!” He’d been shouting for what felt like hours, shoving his way through the crowd of people lined up to watch an execution. Watch; the ending of a life becoming a form of entertainment. No education, or consideration; merely the delight of watching one more miserable, wretched soul taken from this place. There was enough blood on the galaxy’s hands to last for a million years, and the palms of the Queen were stained red, including the drops that pumped within him now. Ronan was no fan of violence, not like his brother. He believed in hope, even if all it had ever done was hurt him.

Shoving a man from his way, Ronan jumped, his fluffed hair flopping about his head as he passed the barricade of men, set upon stopping at least one ounce of blood being shed from this day. His attentions captivated by the woman that he sought; the woman who had betrayed him. Her own hair tussled and dirty, he noted the bruises upon her porcelain skin. Unbinding the shackles that held her there, and fending off the men that tried to stop him.

“Alice; you have to run as fast as you can, and follow me, alright?” He asked, his piercing blue eyes staring deep into hers. “Now.”

And without another word, he snatched her hand in his, and tore her from captivity, racing back and away from the people that might try to stop them, with only one goal in mind; get back to the tavern before he, and she, were caught.

[``MIA]

“If I do tell you, sir, I have no proof that you won’t attempt to kill my anyways.”

Because he didn't care for what she might think, Ramsey chuckled. Her words were true, so undeniably accurate that he actually nodded his head with a little smirk that curled at the edges of plump lips like a criminal ready to make his move.

“Aye, ‘tis true lass.” That smirk only widened, leaning down enough to look her in the eye, could see something there that glinted with some self-assurance she wasn’t supposed to have in this situation. She thought she had something to hold over his head, wielding her knowledge like a weapon. She had a good idea, Ramsey thought, but her form was bad. “I’m a man o’ my word, however.”

His lie was so great that his tongue might’ve been black. She had caught him in a lie, and he wasn’t about to deny it. Though a pirate, Ramsey was an honest man, and oddly enough he did have a code he lived by. Of course he was not above murder and thievery (would kill her right now, in fact, if it weren’t for her information), but there were some things even he wouldn’t do. Letting an entire planet die because a Queen thought them filth was not something Ramsey was going to allow, even though he knew deep down he had no care for the place at all.

It was his home, he’d tell himself in the middle of the night. Where would he get his supplies, if not Dread? It was a sick, twisted greedy little thing that gnawed at his brain each time he lay down upon his bed in the dead of the night. He wasn’t doing it for the people, he was doing it for himself. Because he was selfish, because he was tired of dreaming of things long since past, and wondering what he could’ve done to stop it. He was tired of guilt. He could kill a man without flinching, but he could not get over what he had let happen to his brother.

With a nod of his head to his second in command, the man disappeared once more behind the Captain’s stained glass door. “Yer a demandin’ little thing, aren’t ya’?” He looked her over, his tongue swiping along his lips. “Ya’ don’t look starved to me, darlin’. Food is hardly what ya’ need right now.” Ramsey knew what starved looked like. It was ten feet under ground, with your skin clinging to your bones, and bugs in your eyes. He had been so close to that once, with his tongue dry and begging for water, and his stomach weeping.

He was tossed an apple when the man came back, setting the fruit down by the stem atop the map he placed in front of her. “Does this satisfy th’ princess? Or does she require a feast.”



A part of her knew she deserved this. She had done things in her life that warranted death, even by the harshest means, and she accepted that. But Alice had always been selfish and power hungry, even long after her family and friends disappeared like dust in the sky. It was one of the many reason why she had gotten along with Ramsey so well once Ronan was gone. They were just two people, broken and unsatisfied with what life had handed them. And few years or so, Alice could see her getting comfortable there on the ship along side Ramsey, because though they were pirates, they were also something close to a family. And she wanted it, and with greedy fingers sought it out, only to get burned in the end.

He had tricked her like she had tricked him. It was deserved, but her heart hurt. But she knew, knew it all along, that it would end like this. How could she not? Her world had been destroyed, left in ashes and dying embers, and here she stood still alive. There had to be more than her out there in hiding, but she never found the energy to search. Death, it seemed, was more welcoming than the open space. She was ready for this, she found with a twisting stomach.

And then she heard him, though it was hard to make out what he was saying over the shouting, over the voices in her head that screamed out impossible. Ronan was before her, clean and cut and pristine, telling her to run but she could only stare. He was supposed to be dead—“You’re supposed to be…”

Her hand was snatched from her then, allowing herself to be dragged away by a grip so tight around her frail wrist that she almost felt like she was floating. But she wasn’t, and her body was on fire with aching pains from sitting in a cell in an awkward position for too long, and her lungs felt like they were filled with needles. Running, she voiced in her head, was not what she wanted to be doing at this moment.

“Ronan,” she gasped out, like she had been starved for air for too long.

It wasn’t long until they managed to lose those who were chasing them, but definitely forever until they came upon a smaller building hidden in an alley. A chimney blew out smoke, like a great heaving breath in the winter, and the sound nearly made her jump. A woman came out, greeting Ronan like she had known him forever; a very pleasant and warm looking lady who looked as if she didn’t belong in such a cold place as Albatross. But she took them in, much to Alice’s surprise, with no question. And when a few guards came by, she urged them in the wrong direction.

It was only when Alice was directed to sit down upon a seat by the older woman, hands shaking in her lap and eyes following Ronan’s every move, did she speak. “I was ready, you know.” Her voice came out crack. “It was an end I was ready for, and you stole it from me.” And she couldn’t say anything else, didn’t want to ask why he had done it, because her heart was pounding and everything felt so surreal.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She shook her head. "What are you doing here? How is this even possible?"

[Mur]

Intimidation was a tactic used to scare a subject into submission. To use one’s size, and power in a situation was what made people grovel and beg in the presence of their captor. But submission was not a thing ingrained into the fabric of the woman that appeared as David before Goliath. Even as he leaned down to look her in the eye, she merely took a deep breath. Straightening her back to attempt to appear larger, she stood her ground; patent and unmoving.

“Not to offend you, sir, but I’ve never met a Pirate whose word meant much.” Briony spoke coldly, though earnestly enough that the waters between she and the Captain may not become reddened with blood, or darkened with failure. She knew the qualities of a man like him - a man that was a pirate. A pirate from Dread, whose quest was to destroy the only person she knew she could trust in this place. “As much as I’d love to believe you, I have no evidence that you’re word is truly good, aside from your own word. And it’s false, then I have no reason to trust you.”

Briony knew, to a degree, that the only hope she had here was a false one. But trusting a character that she had known, had created to be trustworthy, seemed far wiser than believing the word of a pirate. Her eyes followed O’Connell’s officer as he left the room, her gaze suspicious and inquisitive. “You give me what I ask for, and I’m more likely to give you all of the information that you want.” She informed him quickly, her eyes returning and focusing upon his own. Trust wasn’t stated, it was earned. And right now neither party was capable of believing the other. Starved, or simply exhausted, if her desires weren’t sated, she’d be of as much use to them as a dead body. Betrayal, however, was far more complicated than trust.

Was it possible to betray a man that you had never met? A man you had invented, created upon a napkin in a noisy café on a Sunday, with the aroma of coffee? Her intentions weren’t to give the shameless pirates the advantage, only information. If she could get them close enough...then perhaps she could get close enough to the man she knew she could trust. A man that reminded her so much of home, her heart already ached inside of her chest at the thought of O’Connell getting the upper hand.

When the man returned, she took the apple without a hesitation. Nodding as a gentle response, more polite now than before, she laid claim to the gift that had been offered. Even as the figure of Snow White’s death, she took it, and sunk her teeth into the fruit, closing her eyes at the taste. A barren palate burst with delight at the sensation of taste, the truest experience she had since arriving here.

“It’s good. Thank you.” She said, more out of habit than true thanks. It was hard to truly be grateful to a man who had offered to throw you to the stars only moments ago. But the world she came from...a civilized place, with men and women who were treated equal, it was hard not to break the presence of kindness, even in it the forms most taken for granted. “I’ll answer your questions, but I wont help you. You want to know where Davis is going, I can tell you, but I wont tell you how to stop him.” She said, feeling a strange strength being in a place that she knew so well, but also a sincere hopelessness. She may have had the upper hand, but truly, she had nothing, and no one to rely upon. And if they knew that...if she was to give into the feeling that crept up on her from the darkness, she may as well have been cast overboard.



Life and Death was not a task for men to decide or dictate. Trust, honor, valor; those were priorities a man could grasp within his hands, and offer to others without mistake or regret. Life, and the most permanent of punishments, however were a mystery. Unknown. Children were born and the elderly passed on from their natural lives, but no man could give life to another as easily as he could take it. They weren’t promises. He had learned that long ago. But if a life could be taken, could be ruined, then it could just as easily be ruined by salvation.

The look on her face had almost been enough to warrant saving her in itself, but it wasn’t truly her life that he wanted to spare, though he, unlike others, hated to see the presence of death. Even among his enemies, the emptiness of soulless eyes or the cruelties of unmarked graves were not the things that he would wish upon anyone. Not even the devil himself. But what, other than sheer surprise, could be expected from a face that had just seen a ghost?

“It’s a long story.” Were the only words that he bothered to say as he tore her from the rest of the prisoners. And, truly, it was the longest of stories. As he’d read in the world he would never have believed in, his home was that of a vast space. The experiences he had gone through, the things he could say. Barely an ounce of it would be believed here, even in the presence in a woman that had betrayed him. But it wasn’t the past, or the present, that consumed his thoughts. It was the future, which step came next, and how he might be able to get to Dread. How he might get home. And right now, Alice was the only key that he knew to the place he most desired to go.

Getting away from the crowd had been easy enough - pursuits were hard to come by when there was nothing but a sea of people to navigate through. So he’d brought Alice to the one safe place that he knew. The home of an elderly woman and her son, a man that he had befriended, but was not present. A trustworthy, honest, compassionate family that had so far been the only people he had come across since returning here with some honor to their names. Though the pair of them were well skilled in the art of deception, safety here was a token he wasn’t willing to give up. And it wasn’t until those seeking them out had passed that Ronan decided to speak with the girl he’d become savior to.

“It was an end I was ready for, and you stole it from me.”

Turning his blue-eyed gaze to the girl in front of him, Ronan cracked a smile. Not a smile of affection, but a smile that showed just how little in her that he believed. “Well, then, that makes us even, Farley.” He sighed, brushing off his knees, as though after all of his years living in another world had made him unaccustomed to the dirt that permeated most space upon the planets here. “You take my life, I take your death. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in question, though he didn’t require an answer. It made enough sense to him, and in a way, he was almost proud of it. Ramsey would have been.

“Maybe I am supposed to be dead. But right now, so are you, and that doesn’t seem to be working, now, does it? It sure would be easier if I was, of course. Truth is...I was never dead. Not...then, not now. I just...disappeared, really. But that’s not what I’m here about.” He said, eyes fixed upon the young woman. “I need you for something. I need you to do something for me. I don’t think you’re going to like it, but right now you don’t really have a choice. Or have you suddenly decided that now promises might have some value?”

[``MIA]

“Not to offend you, sir, but I’ve never met a pirate whose word meant much.”

“Lass, I don’t think ya’ ever ‘ave met a pirate.”

He could feel his teeth grind together at her use of the word ‘sir.’ He waved away the man that stood by on watch, waiting until they were alone to rest his hands against the table and narrow harsh eyes upon her. “If yer gonna stay on this ship, lassie, yer gonna have to get my name right. You will call me Captain O’Connell, and if ya’ feel that is too much fer ya’, then just Captain will due.”

Ramsey was surprised when she said voiced her gratefulness. She seemed so at ease, like she knew exactly what she was doing, laying out the cards before him to set the game. With the way her shoulders were suddenly squared and her back straightened, she gave him the impression that they were setting a business plan, not trading information for her life. A life, he was beginning to think, was hardly worth waiting for this information. “Yer welcome,” he chuckled, the laugh sounding gravelly as it made its way through the cavern of his thick chest. It only worsened when she carried on, saying she would help him, but not help him stop Davis.

“And what’re ya’ thinking I’ll do, I wonder, when I find him? Ya’ think we’ll all sit down for a bit o’ tea?” His laugh was suddenly louder now, a sound that swallowed the room like a cloud of smoke. He wasn’t even hesitant in taking a dagger strapped to his thigh before embedding it with a heavy thrust of his hand into the table before her. The laughter had made his face almost boyish in the short moments it was let free, but now his face was twisted, and the flickering shadows the light shone upon him near made him monstrous. “Ya’ can stop a man with a dagger to his heart, but that’ll be far too kind for the likes o’ him.”

Ramsey didn’t care what she thought of him. If she thought him worse than the man that threatened to kill his home planet, then so be it, he wouldn’t try to dissuade her. “S’not a thing t’be messin’ with, ya’ know… This game we're gonna be playin’.” Just as everything else, he would let her think she was safe for the moment, but he didn’t trust her. He had made too many mistakes to do so, especially even when she herself said she was not to be trusted. She would help him find the man, but not help destroy him. “Enough of this. Tell me where he be headin’ next, and maybe I’ll get ya’ a glass of wine for that apple.”


“You take my life, I take your death. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Even though it was childish, she found herself mocking him with parted lips and a roll to her eyes. Oh, she could see how he changed, the way he was so quick to brush off a speck of dust that stained his odd rags like he never had filth on him before. Wherever he had been since he had disappeared must’ve treated him well, and for a moment, her guilt was washed away with something close to anger and bitterness. Did he live the high life while she and his brother rotted away like spoiled apples?

She would’ve questioned him about it, but she found she didn’t have the nerve to speak, because she knew she had no right. It had been her fault that Ramsey was left without a family. And though she always begged for his forgiveness, she knew in her heart it wasn’t true. Alice had wanted someone to suffer as she had suffered; she wanted someone to feel the pain of losing someone, and not being able to stop it. It was an evil thought, but in the generations after the Queen ruled, there was hardly anyone left that was truly pure anymore. And Alice was anything but.

Of course, she had never meant for Ronan to really get hurt, to disappear as he had. She didn’t expect the explosion, or for Ramsey to find her later only to grab her by her hair and throw her at the ground, shouting and demanding things that were not in her power to do. She was sick, he had told her. But then again, so was he and everyone else in this galaxy.

“Disappeared?” she laughed. It was cut off, however, by the sound of shouting and stomping feet from outside, a whistle being blown at such a high pitch that she winced. She hated it here. “People don’t just disappear, Ronan.” Not unless they were dead, were the unspoken words. “What could you possibly want from me? If you’re looking for your brother, I have no bloody clue where he’s gone.”

“Or have you suddenly decided that now promises might have some value?”

That one stung. She felt her heart shake in her chest, but she didn’t let herself show it. Instead, she raised her chin with a glare set upon her eyes, lip quivering. “Promises will always be empty, Ronan. You should know that by now… Or have you forgotten, hiding away wherever you've been? Wearing such fancy clothes and speaking so properly. Oh, Ramsey would not like what you’ve turned out to be.”

[Mur]

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Though she had written about them countless time, it was true that she had never met a pirate. And quite frankly, a part of her still believed that she hadn’t. That this was all still some terrible dream, or the effect of some medication that she’d forgotten she had taken. She didn’t believe the fearsome, scandalous Captain O’Connell even existed. Proper titles were of no concern to her. Not here, not in a vast, nightmarish dreamscape. The most outlandish that she had experienced for quite some time.

“You must not be a very good Captain if you need information from a woman to help you catch your enemy.” She murmured, a cruelty upon her lips that she didn’t bother to hide. And even in her misguided understanding of this world, she knew herself to be right.

Taking her first steps since entering the room, Briony moved closer towards the map, looking it over profoundly for direction. Her fingers curled tightly around the apple, holding it close to her chest, as though it’s value matched that of a diamond. A stance that was closer to the truth than she may have ever imagined, the starving people that she knew not to exist. The sound of his cold laughter, however, was perhaps the first thing to startle her since her arrival here. Her muscles tensed as he pulled the dagger from his side, suddenly backing away out of a natural response to flee the presence of danger. Eyes wide and heart racing, the sound of the metal meeting the wood made her flinch - a sign of weakness she wasn’t proud of showing, but could not help responding to.

“I’m not concerned that he’ll be the one with a knife in his chest.” She blurted out, attempting to make up in words what she had lost with body language. Heaving in a deep breath, she moved forward once again, watching Ramsey closely, as one of her delicate hands moved forward, brushing across the map. “Knowing where he is only gives you an advantage if your prey isn’t wise. Vendetta’s are dangerous things, you know...Trusting yourself can be just as dangerous as trusting a stranger.” She murmured, dropping her gaze to the map. She knew these worlds as well as the back of her hand, but to see it upon paper, true, lifelike paper that she hadn’t had to trace herself was, despite the dirtiness of the place, beautiful in it’s own right. Her fingertips traced the empty space between planets she’d invented, and for the briefest of moments, a smile took control of her face at the sight of it.

Attention only returned to Ramsey as he spoke, her smile disappearing behind a veil of protection. “Is that a challenge?” She asked, her eyes meeting his for a moment, before dropping back down to the object at hand. At least someone was living up to the expectations that she had created. “He’ll be in Dread in two to three day’s time. The North Wayward Port is his destination, but I can’t promise you the moment of his arrival. You may beat him there, but he will have a better arsenal than you. You’d have to be a fool to think otherwise, Captain.” Briony said, painting his title with distain as it left her lips.



He could see it in every mannerism of her being. The way that she looked down on him, the same way she had in the past, but refused to admit to. It followed the roll of her eyes and the huff of her breath, and for a moment, he almost felt pity for her. Pity that he had been the one sent to that place, to earth, where the cruelty of men there was disguised with kindness rather than anger. He, truly, had been the lucky one, and it was Ramsey and she that had suffered. Though he would never feel sorry for the pain that she must have endured, he knew that part of her, the bitterness, the cruelty that she faced reflected what his brother had undergone as well. Times had changed here, he knew that. He’d read it in the flawed pages of a book he had the gift of being able to read, but his only regret was not being able to give his brother the same salvation from their pain.

“People don’t just disappear, Ronan.” Was her strongest defense, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. “I guess I’ve proven you wrong, then, haven’t I? He asked, perching one of his eyebrows higher than the others as he listened to her. At least he could profess that she hadn’t changed a bit since he had left. The only kindness that she could bring him now was the relief of her words. “He is alive, then?” He asked, unable to hide the sound of hope and gratitude in his voice. “You might not know where he is, but you will help me find him, Alice. I’ve been gone too long to navigate on my own - I did you a favor a while back, it’s time for you to repay it, understand?”

His initial reaction was to go to the window - to see the masses of people that amy be looking for them, but instinct remained where desensitization did not. The new life he had experienced told him to be curious, to explore and discover, but the natural instinct of the life he had left behind told him to stay safe. He had forgotten the misery of the life he had lived, of the life he had left. Leaving it had made him change, made him forget the fear of it all. And experiencing the difference made him ache for those he had left behind.

“You’re wrong.” Ronan said simply, his tone riddled with conviction. Just because one’s promises may have been empty didn’t mean the world had been born to lie. “Just because you’re a liar doesn’t mean others cant keep their word. Not that I would expect you to believe that.”

As effective as his words had been upon her, her’s held the power of an invisible pain. The idea that he might forget, that he had become a disappointment, were things that bruised the skin of his tender heart. He had been strong once, when he was here. And he had never lost the bravery that he had inherited from his brother. That was a thing you did not lose. But he had been gone, gone so long because of actions he had no control over, with the absence of a solution. And she was using it against him as though he had decided to follow the path that his life had taken him, even if all he had ever wanted was to come back here. Even when he slept in the softest beds, and was fed the sweetest and most savory of foods.

“And suddenly you’re an expert on what my brother would like?” He snapped, his words becoming far more calloused than he had anticipated. “Tell me, did you think of what he would like when you sent me to what you’ve believed so long to be my death? Because I can’t imagine he would have greeted it with a smile.”

[``MIA]

((HI MUR HOW’S IT GOING. Lmao. Let’s have an old ooc chhhat. XD So, how’s life going for you beside sucky college? You’re still going for screenwriting, right? Or did you change your mind? And I'm working on your siggy, but my internet kinda pooted so... I'm only my old computer for now, which means no PS.))

He hissed more at her words than he meant to, a sneer curling at his lip like a dog when it felt threatened. “And you must not be from around here, lass. If ya’ don’t know where yer goin’ before you sail off, you might as well cut yer throat right then and there.” He gave a smile, though the twist of his lips and the light in his eyes were more mocking than sincere. He knew that a woman’s word were often more deceiving than that of a pirate’s oath. Ramsey was a good Captain, but a good man he was not. He was, though, ultimately selfish and in need for something to stop this madness in his head. And if it meant taking the treacherous words of a woman who looked lost, even despite her squared shoulders and steely face, then so be it.

He saw the break in her facade then. It was small, but his pride was a damning thing, and it was hard to stop once it got started, because it welled up inside him fast at the sight of that small glimpse. “Aye, that is true as well, lass. I could die, he could die, and maybe his crew will rot in hell along side th’ rest of his wretched kind once I tear them apart. But then again, one can never know th’ future, can they?”

“Trusting yourself can be just as dangerous as trusting a stranger.”

For a mere second, the pirate was stunned into silence at how true and utterly painful her words were. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, but he didn’t speak until the Briony carried on. Her words were sharp, but Ramsey knew it now to be nothing but bravado she placed up like a barrier around herself. It was three days to stop Davis from reaching his home entirely, and if he failed in that, he took relief in knowing that he still had time to stop him before letting him get to wherever he’d be heading. It just meant that he’d have little time, knowing that his world was dying while he chased down the culprit.

“Sometimes in bein’ a fool, sweetheart, one can find some of th’ greatest plans. And besides, I’m a pirate—the amount o’ guns they ‘ave won’t matter when yer opponent doesn’t play fair.”

He turned then, bending at the knees to search through a cherry wood cabinet with the sound of glasses clinging together the only answer as to what he was doing. Ramsey stood a moment later to set a wine glass before the girl, pouring a wine so dark it seemed almost like a black hole in it’s glass casing. “So, darlin’, I think it’s a right time t’ tell me yer name, don’t ya’ think?” His smile was charming, but so was a tiger before it pounced. “Or better yet, how ya’ even know all of this shite to begin with. Oh now, lass, don’t tell me yer one of his little toys.”



Alice didn’t want to feel it, but guilt came swarming in at the relief she saw there at the mere mention of his brother. He only made it worse as truth after truth, he pried her apart so easily like he was simply dissecting her to prove a point. ‘Just because you’re a liar doesn’t mean others can’t keep their word.’ It was true, she knew, but Alice had never experienced it before. At least not with anyone she had met outside of her own kind, though she was hardly any different from a human. She was just a girl with a talent that often got out of control, and who wanted nothing more than to see those responsible choke at her feet.

“You didn’t do me a favor, you just blindly followed a girl who said she knew a way to make things better. How could you have trusted me?” Despite how much pain the past caused them all, she found herself laughing bitterly at his face. “I was a girl who just lost her whole world—there were even guards looking for my head. How you didn’t see what I was from the very start is a mysterious itself.”

Though Ramsey had trusted her then, too. It wasn’t because he believed her words, but because Ronan had been so hopeful and believing, and a part of him wanted to believe it too if only for his brother. And Alice had used that to her advantage.

“And suddenly you’re an expert one what my brother would like?”

She tried to stop her initial reaction, but the desire was too strong, and she found herself cringing. Her jaw set in a firm lock just as her fingers shook on her table, resorting to staring at the ground instead of looking at the man’s blue eyes that suddenly seemed too intense to look upon. “Maybe I don’t know what Ramsey would’ve liked then, but I know what Captain O’Connell does now. He’s a changed man, you know. The glimpses of darkness you saw in him when you were just kids has only gotten worse.” Alice was lying again, because she knew without a doubt that, even if his brother had changed, his love for his sibling hadn't simply vanished into thin air.

She fell silent as the elderly woman returned, her hands shaking as she carried a tray with teacups rattling on it. She didn’t speak, but instead handed to each of them a warm cup before returning to wherever it was she had been hiding in the first place.

Alice felt herself caving in. With her knees pressing heavily into her chest and an arm wrapped around her knees, she quietly sipped at her tea as a means to avoid Ronan’s gaze. But she knew that it was too good to be true, this salvation that came in the form of a bitter drink. With a weak gaze, she met Ronan’s head on before swallowing heavily. “Fine. I’ll help you, but on my terms.” Even though she shook with the effort and her body protested to the movement, she set her tea aside and stood with a wobbly start, only to offer a hand in his direction with narrowed eyes. “Deal?”

[Mur]

(( ASBBJSG HIIII MIA. I am kind of rushing this because I have a class to get to soon but uuuuh it's going well I can describe more later xD My roommates are little shits as I have said but I guess one is moving out now...idk...it's complicated. The classes are great, though, and I have some nice friends =3 How's work going? ))

Making her cower was a fools errand. The absence of physical violence only made the plea that she was in control of the situation even stronger. Brute force of conversation and glances of terror did nothing. It was only unwanted advances of aggression, and the appearance of weapons that truly startled her. Things that proved she could lose, and had nothing, and no one to protect her. “I thought you’d be offering to take care of that for me?” She asked, almost sounding truly curious. And for the second time, really, he wasn’t wrong. She had no business being here, it didn’t take a genius to know that. The oddity of her clothing, her mannerisms, her intelligence. It was all just as foreign to them as they were to her. Fear, however, was not a foreign concept, and he was slowly beginning to get at the heart of it.

“Or he could rip you to shreds before you and your crew ever get the chance?” She suggested, her voice smooth in an attempted recovery. Letting one’s guard down was the first way to a failure, and the arrogance of both minds in the room made them both just as weak as they attempted to be strong. “I may be wrong, or you may be wrong, but I’ve got history on my side. If you were as good as you claimed, you would have had him by now.” Threats were only as empty as the actions that followed them, and as far as she could tell, Ramsey wasn’t quite as cruel as he thought himself to be. Cold and hateful even, but not so cruel.

Had she known the way that her words made him pause, she would have carried on. She would have insulted him, and told him how useless it was, even for him, to trust a pirate. How his plans for scheming also matched the plans of his counterparts, of his comrades, and despite their pledge of loyalty, could easily be betrayed. But she had no hint of that, apart from his silence, and silence wasn’t a stranger when plans were being made. “Pirate or not, you have to be a good pirate to win, Captain, and there has to be a reason that he’s outrun you until now. He’s a good Captain, and you’ll have to be a better one to stop him. Playing fair or not, you’d have to pull off one hell of a fight to bring him down.”f

Challenging, scoffing a pirate probably wasn’t a wise move - like intentionally moving the wrong chess piece when you knew your opponents next four moves. But she believed herself to have the advantage. To know the outcome of the game didn’t affect the way that you moved your pieces, not when you knew you’d be the victor regardless. Or, at least, you thought you would be the victor, which is exactly what Captain O’Connell and his crew believed, too.

“I am no one’s toy” She barked like a command and growled as though it were an attack. “My name is Briony. Briony Devereux. I’d ask yours, but your crew seems quite fond of mentioning their ‘Captain O’Connel’.” Her eyes peered into the bleak darkness of the wine that he poured. What did he know of the man he wanted to destroy? His cruelty blinded him from seeing the goodness in people, she supposed. That’s why he was a Pirate in the first place. His rage fueled him, drove him to the insanity that would plunge his life into darkness like the drink he’d begun to offer her. And that would be his greatest failure, his anger, his quest for power, his greed. Sacrificial acts made a good man and a good death. Revenge did not.

Grasping the glass of wine, Briony brought the dark liquid to her lips. Raising the glass and swallowing a mouthful, she nearly choked on its toxicity. The burn and heat of the alcohol made her cheeks flush, and she closed her eyes sharply. “Does alcohol always accompany your negotiations?” She asked, her voice initially hoarse from the intensity of the alcohol. “Or do you save it for special occasions? And don’t call me darling, Captain, or I’ll go back to using sir.”



Even if he’d come back, even if they found Ramsey, and he was reunited with the way things could be, the time would never make up for what he could have had, should he not have disappeared. Though he would never regret the feeling of curling up in a warm, cotton sweater, or the comfortable beds with plump mattresses that he had become accustomed to, the comforts he bought were nothing compared to the life he could have had here. The lives he could have helped, with his brother, and presumably even Alice herself. If he hadn’t gone, would she have even been close to her execution? But questions like that couldn’t be dwelled upon, and it took more of his strength than he would ever admit to keep from holding it against her.

“Because I wanted to trust you, Alice. Who wouldn’t want to believe that? That life could be better somehow. Even if I was a foolish boy then, you promised me, and Ramsey that came only from dreams. And we wanted to fix that. Neither of us would have guessed you couldn’t make it possible. What reason did we have not to trust you?” He asked, his brow furrowing together curiously. “If there were guards looking for your head, we thought it meant you were special. People are only dangerous and hunted when they can grant or deny the promises you’ve only dreamed about.” Though, if given the chance, he would have corrected his naive, childish mind, and saved himself, and his family, the pain of distance and the unknown.

His expression fell as she spoke of his brother - of the way he changed, which made his heart sink and his eyes stare at her in a dismayed wonder. “Captain O’Connell?” He asked quietly, his stomach knotting with the fear that everything had changed far more than he would have wanted it to. What had become of them, he wondered? Of Ramsey, of Alice? He’d gotten a pretty good idea of it from the books - from the fiction that that woman had claimed to write. To have made up. But she had gotten so much wrong, too. Was it not possible his brother was a good man? Was it not possible that there could be some hope left?

“And I wonder whose fault that was.” He commented briskly, his gaze hardening for a short moment. “He wouldn’t have gotten that bad if he didn’t have a cause to...That, or you’re lying to me just as well as you used to.” He said, an obvious distrust in his voice. He straightened up as the elderly woman entered the room, however. His mannerisms for kindness were now a taught structure, a thing he did without thought or dismissal. And he saw the way that Alice watched it - the way she buckled to the desire like a starved dog, and all it once he felt his stomach churn. This was it. This was the life he had abandoned, and though he hadn’t forgotten the feeling of an empty stomach, begging for even the smallest grain of rice, he had forgotten the way the people he knew had felt. The way they moved, and walked. Limp with their desires and the things they were not allowed to have, and he hated it. He despised it, and the men that had made their lives this way. He wanted to fix it, but for now all he could do was find his brother.

“Your terms have never worked well for me in the past,” He pointed out quietly with a frown, knowing the true extent of her betrayal, and the fallacies of helping her. “But I’m not going to find my brother without you, so I’ll put it this way; we’ll go on your terms, but if I have even a suspicion - if I even hear a whisper that you’re taking me away from where I need to go, then the deal is broken and you’re on your own. Understand?”

[``MIA]

(Awww at least one is leaving. But it's good the classes are nice. And my job sucks. It's like going back to high school all over again. xD I'm waiting to move departments. >:C my stupid word on my laptop does straight quotes, not smart quotes. :c i want smart quotes they're prettttyyyy. Went online to fix it and see if it worked, but nooope. >:c my old comp has better word. Smart quootess i want you to want meee. If you feel like it's time to skip, just let me know xD and now my computer is saying i have like 28 fucking viruses. ksldhflkdsh ARGGGH. >:C)


"If you were as good as you claimed, you would have had him by now."

It wasn't that he wanted to frighten her, because he knew that if he wanted to, he could have. But it didn't help the girl that almost every little come back she had was mocking, and each one only twisted his quick temper into something that burned dark inside him. Ramsey wasn't a patient man. His crew, and everyone that had ever defied him, knew this. If she wanted a pirate that was horrifying and deadly, he would give her one, a pirate that could take down a Naval ship just by slipping aboard and slitting their Captain's throat.

With a fist slammed down upon the table, he bared his teeth like a starving animal that was teased with meat in front of his eyes. The glass of wine shook, the metal bits and wood slightly splintered beneath the force of his strength. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, though the flare of his nostrils and the piercing look in his eyes said he was still on the verge of breaking his composure if she decided to insult him again, no matter if it was subtle or blunt. "Ya' may want t' rethink yer choice of words, sweetheart. Ya' better learn how to give respect where it is due, even if ya' have to pretend, otherwise you'll find yerself in the brig with yer tongue cut out, do ya' understand me? Ya' can write just fine, I'm sure. I don't need ya' waggin' that bloody useless thing anymore than need be." There was a fiery look upon his face, one that told her he wasn't messing around anymore, one that said he had spent too long as what he was to simply let this strange girl walk in and mock him with pretty words, an arrogance in her tone that reminded him so awfully of the nobles that had ruined his world in the first place.

"Ya' think yer important t' me because of yer information, lassie, but that's not so. I'm a pirate, I have other means of gettin' what I need." It was true, but then again, no one liked to go up against the Queen's army. Space was as vast and dangerous as it always been, and setting a course with no real destination in mind was suicidal. She thought he would have him by now because that was what a good Captain did. But he was a Captain with commonsense, and the fact that she didn't know this one incredibly important rule about space travel, was a telling sign that she was most definitely not from Albion's reaches.

With a quick and short breath, his features eased into a look of sudden calmness despite the quick rage he had just displayed not but a moment ago. "They call me Captain O'Connell because that is my name, lass. I show them respect, and they show me theirs. It's a concept, my dear, I'm sure yer not familiar with."

He watched with humor in his eyes as she choked on his wine. It was an acquired taste, he forgot to mention. For a moment, despite her heated words, he found himself looking her over again. She looked to his eye untouched, perfect but not entirely so. If he didn't know any better, he would've considered her royalty, because even some nobles had their share of dirt. This galaxy was home to many filthy planets, Dread being the worst of them. "Th' wine is a gift, Miss Devereux. One could take it as an insult, to see ya' cough it up, however." He brought his fingers to his lips then out of thought, the pads of his fingers feeling rough upon the soft touch of skin. He moved then with intent in his gaze, waving her to stand up. Though for his strength in size, he moved with a swift gracefulness, opening the door and staring pointedly at her to follow him.

"We have a hammock set up for ya' in our stock room. Best be careful there though, a lot o' hungry men come searchin' for rum in the dead o' night. And t' find such a pretty lass there..." His grin turned wicked, not bothering to wait for her as he moved out into the open, where the stars shed light upon the planks beneath his feet. He had no fear of her escaping, knew that if she tried, his crew would stop her before she got the chance.

The stock room was full of barrels and satchels of food, and there in the corner was a hammock hanging by thick rope. "'Tis where ye'll be sleepin', Devereux. If it's not up to yer standards, just let me know and maybe I'll get ya' a pillow to suit the princess' needs."




She wasn't sure why her heart trembled a little when Ronan turned his words back on her. 'Because I wanted to trust you, Alice.' He said it so easily, like he truly had believed in every word she said, and perhaps still did a little. Not in the way a naive boy would, but in the way a man with hope would, when he wanted to believe this galaxy wasn't as cruel and dishonest as it really was. But then again, wasn't that still naive?

"If you're looking for an apology, you won't find one here." She didn't mean for it to come out as weak as it sounded; it only proved that she did feel guilt, that she did wish to make it up to him, even if a part of her could hardly stand the thought. Alice could see in his some part of him that fell, if only a little at what she said of his brother. And though it pained her for some reason, to hurt him (knowing what she had done to him in the past), she felt a small amount of relief each time his eyes closed to cover the sharp blue of his eyes.

"He's... He's sails the stars now." It wasn't wholly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. And though she knew that she should, her guilt kept her from doing so, least he be disappointed in what his brother really had become.

With a roll of her eyes, she urged her hand forward again, as though aggressively insisting that he take it. "Fine," she spat harshly, her nose scrunching up in distaste. "But you do know that if you leave me behind, it won't be me that is alone. I know where I belong in this world—you, however, do not." Alice found she could not be civil, each word that was out of her mouth was something harsh, and her mind punished her for it. Ronan was a good man who she didn't deserve to be in the presence of, an fact she had long since accepted.

Her chance to stare into his eyes without faltering was interrupted when the woman came back, alerting them that their room that they would be able to use for the night were ready. She gave one last look to the man before her, only to turn around a moment later and follow the woman upstairs. The room was small, but she wasn't about to complain. Even sleeping on the floor was better than what she had been staying in the past few months. With an uncomfortable swipe of her fingers along her wrist, her eyes peered up at him carefully. She didn't say much, felt she had said all she had needed to. "I'm going to take a shower..." she uttered, a quiet sound that seemed more timid than her usual nature would suggest.

The shower was hot and a luxury she hadn't been able to afford in a long time, so she took her time until, by the time she got out, the steam curled around the room in warm wisps of air. She was careful to avoid Ronan, stepping around him like they were on thin glass. "Why did you wish to come back in the first place? If you... If you were happy where you were, Ramsey would've wanted you to stay, you know." Wherever the place was, it had to have been better than this place. With shaky fingers, she grabbed a blanket only to unfold it around herself, shivering beneath the large quilts and staring up at him from the ground, looking a lot smaller than she truly was. "What is it you really want me for, Ronan? I'm no good at navigating... And if people find out who I am, we're both going to pay for it."

[Mur]

((Which is totally true but out of all of the one’s to move out, I’d rather it not be this one. She’s messy, but she’s not around enough to be a nuisance...unlike the other two...whom I hear blaring Grays Anatomy right now. Which is ridiculously annoying. No, honestly, everything about college is great. The only problem I have with classes is that my History class puts me in Panic Attack mode because it’s...ridiculously challenging and our teacher just calls on random people and I HATE IT WHEN HE CALLS MY NAME FOR HARD QUESTIONS BECAUSE I JUST “I GIVE UP I GIVE UP RIGHT NOW”.

And then there’s my roommates getting wasted all the time and coming home at 2am with four strange boys and just...fuck all of this I want to live alone ok. I am glad your comp works though =3 this has been really really nice for me already I am very grateful to you mia you have no idea. Life sucks.

And you can skip whenever you're getting bored, darling. I just need to write, so I'm fine with whatever you want to change to. I JUST NEED AN OUTLET AND IF THE OUTLET DOESN'T HAVE A MILLION PLOT TWISTS I WOULD BE FINE, but I want you to be happy so if you're annoyed just go ahead and skip to something sneaky =3 ))

The game was up, that much could be said in his darkened eyes alone. Not that it had truly ever been her game to be playing. She may have the final move in the scheme of things, but she had exhausted her resources, and the tensing of her muscles was enough to show that she believed that. Her mind may refuse to believe that he had power over her - she was the creator of this place; the designer. But her body reacted to the threat, breath hitching in her throat, and her eyes widening to a point that she would have been ashamed of admitting to, jumping at the sound of his brawny hand against the already splintered wood. Christ, she’d wanted to be stronger than this. Even for a dream, she couldn’t hider her petite size from that of a mammoth.

“I-” She’d started to stand up for herself, but paused as he mentioned her ability to write. A look crossed her face that could have almost spoken for a surprised flattery, or concerned confusion. The distance between her eyebrows narrowed as she furrowed them together, her stance relaxing, almost casually, as though she were speaking with a longtime friend. As though she were home talking to him, the inspiration for this all, the good Captain that she sought out so dedicatedly. “There are more ways to speak than with one’s mouth.” She said, her voice doused with a saccharine, delicate composure. The pen is mightier than the sword. But no man here dared match a blade, or so that was the impression she had been given. The impression that she could not remember creating, save for the villain of the story - the villain that stood before her, tall, strong, and powerful with his body, but as she believed, useless with his mind and his heart. Bravery and courage was a trait of the noble. Deception and barbarousness were bound to the cold like an iron lock and key.

Briony’s frown did not vanish. Not even if he had changed the subject to that of kittens, or a homemade apple pie could he have broken the look of hatred that she held for him. And she doubted that he ever would break the spell of atrocity that she felt in his presence - not that he would ever make an attempt to try, but she knew even the thought of him would make her blood boil. “If by ‘means’ you’re suggesting violence...” Her voice trailed off with an obvious distain, her expression nearly sorrowful. “There are better ways to deal with men - even your enemies.” She sighed heavily, shaking her head, blonde locks ruffling at her shoulders. “Think what you will, but I have access to more than you will ever know, and disregarding me will disregard any knowledge you may have ever wanted. Remember that, Captain.”

Despite her hatred for him, the churning of her stomach that the anger caused, her voice held none of the previous contempt - pity. He could have been handsome, she supposed, had he been a good man. Had his cruelty and anger not damaged him. Had his face not been plagued by the presence of that scar. Or a good man. But instead he was a monster. Not a monster created by Doctor Frankenstein, a poor beast doomed to live an accursed life, but a Mr. Hyde. A monster created only by himself, without a chance for redemption. A damned soul, like the painting of Dorian Gray. “I’m accustomed to it.” She pointed out with a nod, finally giving herself the courage to look him in the eyes once again. “Neither of us have given enough reason for respect, Captain.”

The wine warmed her, which she took as a good sign, regardless of whether or not she truly enjoyed the taste - which she did not. But in a place like this, she didn’t expect much to keep her from shivering through the night, if she were permitted to live that long, or if this dream chose not to end, the alcohol was a welcome gift. “I’d apologize, but I’m not used to such...potency.” She explained with a small wince, her throat still burning and her taste buds aching for salvation. “But I doubt you needed much to figure that out.” Murmuring, she rose from her seat as directed, deciding that following the small orders would be enough to keep her alive for now.

Following out, she felt her skin crawl at his mention of the other men...What he implied they might do, or could do, suddenly put a panic in her heart. She may have control, but they were still pirates. And as little hospitality as she had had, it was still more than she may have even written about herself. “Your men try anything, and they wont see the light of another day. And that’s not a threat, it’s a fact.” Her words were strong, but insufficient. She doubted that she could kill a man if she tried, and a part of her knew that Ramsey must have known that, but you couldn’t stop a girl from trying.

Taking a deep breath, she followed him down and nodded at his comments. “I’m a woman not a princess, Captain. It’d be wise if you learned the difference.” She scowled, though the idea of the bed she was to sleep in - or rather, hammock, was not a pleasant one, though she truly didn’t plan to do much sleeping as it was. “Thank you.”




He almost laughed at the sound of it, a quick smile taking over his face as she mentioned his potential desire for an apology. A chuckle escaped his chest, a far healthier sight than most of the men on his planet, and with a shake of his head he dismissed her words entirely. “If I were here for an apology, I wouldn’t have saved your life, Farley. As much as you wanted to die, I wouldn’t have given you that until I got what I wanted. Fortunately for you, that’s not what I’m here about.” And fortunate or not, it was the truth.

In all honesty, he hadn’t left because he wanted to, and he hadn’t come back because he wanted to, either. Yes, of course he had wanted to return to his home, where things happened as he knew them, and the one, small ounce of family he had left still resided in a place that wasn’t just inside of his own heart. Not that he regretted it - he wanted to be here, conflicting as it was, this was where he desired to stay. But when he’d gone to her house, that young woman with all of the stories, the stories that he knew floating around in that head of hers, scratching them down on paper as though they were nothing. As though they weren’t lives, desperate and inflamed with emotion. When he had gone to her, stormed her door and knocked on it, charmed his way into the home with a smile that he’d used a million times before, he hadn’t ever expected to come home. He’d wanted answers. But now that he was here, he wasn’t about to let the moment pass him by.

“But if he’s changed as much as you claim he has, it’s not the stars that he’s after, now, is it?” He asked, a solemn disparity in his deep voice. “You can lie to me as much as you’d like, Alice. Bend the truth backwards and forwards, but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to earn you a cent of my trust. You give me good, honest answers, and it’s going to work a hell of a lot better for you in the future, so you better not hide anything worth telling.” He paused momentarily, closing his eyes and shaking his head once more. “I’ve been gone, Alice. I haven’t lost my mind. I still know this place. It’s still my home.” He said, turning his gaze, in a far more serious manner than ever before, to meet with hers. And it was true. No matter how much a part of him might always want to have forgotten it, to have been content with the life he was living away from here, the other half of him would remind him of home. That this is where he needed to be, and that he would never, ever be able to make up for the time he had lost.

Taking her hand finally, with no more reason than to make her feel good about herself, he grasped it tightly within his own and gave it a firm shake - the reminder of a promise they had once made that had been far to easily broken. “I might not know my place in this world, but I’ve managed to do pretty well so far.” He said, giving a small glance around the room to remind her of just who had gotten her out of the mess she had been in the first place. “And besides, regardless of what I do, it’s your head they’ll be looking for. Not mine.” He pointed out, almost sounding sympathetic to her cause. Almost. You could only feel so much for someone who had taken even more from you.

Following she and the woman to the upper floors, Ronan didn’t bother to notice much. Even the comforts that she saw as a luxury, he saw as dismal and useless. He was sure that only the Queens bed would please him at this rate, but he wasn’t about to protest what he could get. This life, the life he had returned to, had been filled with broken pieces, and he wasn’t about to feel sorry for himself. Not while Ramsey had been living this every day of his life. He gave her a quick nod as she mentioned the shower, and flopped himself down along the edge of the bed. Wondering, perhaps, where his brother’s life could have gone so wrong.

Had he felt guilty, or had it been Alice’s fault? Had Ramsey and Alice been civil once he had left, or had he been hunting her, day after day, just as the other men had? Neither answer, of course, to any of the questions that plagued his mind. It was there that he stayed motionless until Alice returned, his ideals of modesty having changed since his time alone here. When she returned, he turned to face her, but found himself diverting his eyes as she took the quilt, a small red hue tinting his traditionally light cheeks. But it was her question, truly, that struck him the most. Even if it had the simplest answer.

“Alice...” He started off slowly, almost with a hesitation that asked, debated, challenged whether or not she truly wanted to hear the answer. “Imagine...you’ve been treated like the Queen. Imagine this bed is...covered in gold, and you can have whatever food you’d like, whenever you’d like it. Imagine there are flowers - Imagine you’re in heaven.” He paused, his voice quiet, and reserved. “Now imagine you lived like that knowing your planet was damned to hell. And I know you don’t have to think hard, because you’ve already had them taken from you. But imagine you could have them back, if only you gave up all of the things you’d always wanted. Wouldn’t you come back, too?” He asked, turning to face her seriously, even with her small, petite...surprisingly womanly form hidden beneath the sheets, enticing his subconscious with desires that he would not yet make claim to. “Ramsey would have wanted me to stay, maybe, but I couldn’t just leave him here. And good at navigating or not, you still know this place better than I do these days, and...whether or not I want to admit it, you’re the closest to a home base I have right now. I don’t have a choice but to need you.”

[``MIA]

(LOL yeah a lot of teachers seem to like doing that, it's one of the many reasons why I hated schooool. Awww you're welcome. I'm glad you're enjoying it xDD. And noo life doesn't suck all the time. I mean, it's really crappy half the time, but sometimes it's awesome when you're covered in blankets and eating oreos and writing lmao dududue i'm wathcing star trek 2 sdkfjs on this day as i posty sdlkfjskd feels feels already AWW HE'S CRYING
and i didn't proof read this. lmfaoo. i usually do, though i always still have stupid typos, but it's probably worse no i sorry. if something's weird, i can change it. xD)


"Your men try anything, and they won't see the light of another day. And that's not a threat, it's a fact."

Despite the fact that her words were firm and her face set in a frown, Ramsey could only chuckle quietly as he nodded his head, like listening to a child that promised to do something, yet everyone knew the inevitable outcome. "Ya' should stick t' yer valuable information, lass, not yer threats." It took a lot to threaten a person sincerely, and even more so to go through with it. And though she had the potential to be dangerous, he sensed that in her, Ramsey doubted he'd ever get the chance to see it. His short temper was a damned thing, and to go up against it without any hesitation like this woman did, usually ended in bruises.

"Woman, princess... Isn't that th' same thing?" He wouldn't tell her that he thought her a princess because she looked one.

But then she said it again, those two words that had him pausing to stare at her like he could hardly believe what was coming out of her mouth. Though there words were harsh to the point against one another, her pride was obviously not as great as his, if she had the ability to say that to him without grimacing. "Yer... welcome, lass." He bowed then, showing a side that was not of a pirate, but of a man showing at least some sort of respect to this woman who has shown him none. Then again, Ramsey had always been good at pretending.

The night passed swiftly, at least for him. Sleep came rarely, and when he did have the opportunity to take hold of it, he didn't hesitate. But it seemed it would be the only sleep he would be getting the next few nights, until finally they made a stop at a planet half-way to Dread. It was small and a little strange, the people here either too quiet or too loud, but Ramsey knew that Davis would stop here before carrying on. The dock was set and the ropes were tied, but when he went to go check on his female prisoner, he was angry to find her missing. He demanded the crew of where she went, if they saw her, but the they were clueless. None had seen Briony leave. He concluded, as he went about looking for her in small taverns and inns, that though she was not threatening, she was sly.

It was only as he was about to give up search did he hear a familiar shout, and aggressive words being spoken that shouldn't have left her mouth in the first place. The scene he came upon was one he saw many times, two men using brute force to get a woman down on her knees into submission. It was, however, the first time he intervened.

"Oi, ya' bastards. Don't ya' have an appointment bangin' yer Captain in the arse?"

He laughed once at his own words, smug even when their eyes raised, threateningly approaching Ramsey with a look in their eye that say we can take him. But with a roll of his eyes, Ramsey's fingers brushed the pistol at his hip only to pull it out and shoot the man in an area he would never come back from, his shouts as horrifying thing to hear. No one bothered to help here. Though it wasn't Dread, it was close enough to the planet to share similar features, the nature of the people being one of them. No one bothered to come to the rescue here, knowing it would only end in their death most of the time. It was a quick scuffle with the last man, chuckling quietly when, with a hard knock to the man's head with the hilt of his sword, he went down.

"Look who we have here..." He moved over toward her, looking over her mussed features and cut clothing with an exasperated expression. "Ya' know, lass, if ya' wanted a man t' touch ya' like that, all ya' had to do was ask. I'd be more than welcome to lend ya' a hand or two."




It took her awhile to notice, but when she did, her cheeks burned. She wasn't embarrassed for herself, but for him. She had spent far too long amongst pirates to be modest, and even longer being stubborn. She curled the blanket tighter around her, eying the room around her for a way to get out of this situation, if only for his sake more than her own. "Would you like me to change into something?" she asked softly, standing from the ground and moving over toward the drawer that was placed beside the bed. Most were empty, but only one had a few articles of clothing that were large, but would suffice.

"Look away please." She said it as if she cared about him seeing her, but she dropped the blanket seconds after she said it without a care, slipping on a large night gown that was airy and a lot more comfortable than she was used to. Her feet were light as she danced around a bit, getting a feel for the way it felt upon her skin, before she dropped back down upon the ground without a sound. "Have you never seen a woman beneath her clothes before?" she questioned honestly, her voice sounding almost concerned. "It is healthy to look, you know. If you ever want to—"

"Alice..."

He wanted his words to mean something, but as his words dragged on and his reasoning explained, she found she could hardly look him in the eyes with how bad her hands trembled. "But I had been treated like a Queen once..." she whispered softly, a pain to her voice she couldn't keep out. Did he think she had always been like this? When she had been younger, days were spent in houses of white and stairs of gold, wearing pretty dresses that she could hardly remember now. But what she did remember, vividly and still dreamed of it, was coming home from school to find her father in the house. She would throw her arms around him, breath him in, hold on a little bit tighter than normal because she wanted her dress to smell like him before he left again for too long. Her life had been far from perfect then, but in times like these, the memory was close to it.

"And it was torn away from me, Ronan. I don't have to imagine it." Her eyes met his finally, tears blurring the blue marble of her eyes. Of all things to happen, she didn't expect this, and she hated it. She didn't want to feel like this, and cursed Ronan for bringing it up so callously, her dead planet she never wanted to see or hear about again. If she was given gold, she would trade it in for her home. If she was given the opportunity for two boys to believe every word she said and user their strength because she had none, she would do it in a heartbeat.

"I don't have a choice but to need you."

Alice had never been needed before, but she found she hated the feeling it gave her, like weights had been placed on her shoulder even more so than before. Her legs curled up around her, her body falling down upon the floor to stare up at the ceiling. Her breath was even, but there was a slight hitch every now in then that upset the silence.
"Please don't say that to me."

With a heavy groan, she rolled on the ground to stand up and move to his side, where he lay upon the sheets. "Move over." Her demand was sharp, the meekness that was previously in her voice gone. "I am not sleeping on a floor anymore."

[Mur]

((No really Mia the other night we agreed no guests past 10pm without permission AND ALL I HEAR OUT THERE IS SCREAMING SO AS SOON AS I FINISH THIS POST IMMA KICK THEIR ASS AND TELL THEM THEY SHOULD BE GRATEFUL I WAITED HIS LONG

You stop it with your feels or you're going to give me some okay. Do not want the sad I NEED THE ANGRY SO I CAN KICK ROOMMATES BUTTS. And I know life doesn't actually suck but...jesus these people. I cannot anymore Mia I CANNOT I WILL EAT THEM LIKE HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL NO EVIDENCE JUST BONES ))

Their parting had been strange, the night that she had arrived here. The way he had bowed, like a young gentleman that had yet to be taught the proper way to arch his back forward with respect. And she had slept well that night, even with the strange sensation of the ship crossing the plains of space beneath her. And she had been calm, closing her eyes in the belief that in the morrow she would wake, curled beneath the soft blankets of her own bed, with the grandfather clock in her hallway ticking through the hours, her trust in its rhythmic pace soothing her to rest. Perhaps, when she woke, she would even scribble down the things she had seen here, the things that she had dreamed. And Captain O’Connell, his men, and the man that had brought here here would be nothing more than remembered ideas.

But as the morning came to wake her the following day, everything remained. Her disillusionment began to haunt her. Her heart caught itself in a constant guard, and her eyes followed the appearance o every man with suspicion. Her stomach churned at her thoughts, and her heart ached at the prospect of life here. Or, rather, the prospect of death. Princess or woman, her life had become a hell she had never imagined. And it showed no signs of righting the wrongs of nightmares that spun in orbit around her. So she had decided to run.

Briony knew where the safest place would be. Captain Davis was the only person she knew that she could trust. Though he may not be able to help her, she believed that she would be safe in the hands of a good man, a noble captain, courageous and protective of his men, and all that were loyal to the cause. That was a man who could be trusted, and would guarantee safety, even if you had nothing to give him in return. Trading a kiss for the chance at stealing a key, Briony had, in a feat that surprised even herself, escaped the guard of Captain O’Connell and his crew. And she never would have guessed how much she may have regretted it.

Screams echoed through the alley as they forced her to the ground - shrieks, sobs as they tore at her clothes. Strong as she was, and hard as she fought, her heart raced and her body quivered to the admission that she was so undeniably helpless. Her hands trembled as she clawed at their skin, and she screamed curses at their every move. She had trusted them. They had been the first men she thought herself capable of trusting, and this was the way that they treated her. Shoving her to the ground with lust in their eyes and torture int heir minds. Her vision blurred with her panic, and all she could hear was the echo of her own pounding, terrified heartbeat. Her eyes began to water, welling with fear and disappointment, and part of her may have even begun to pray.

“P-Please, please. You sons of bitches-” She begged and cursed, only earning herself yet another slap across the face, her cheek burning red from the contact.

Then she heard his voice.

Hope and desperation were the only reasons that her eyes filled with joy at the sight of him - with anxious yearning, and a plea for compassion she thought him unable to possess. She might have laughed at his words, should she have been writing them, or hearing them as a story of things that had once come to pass, but her fear for the moment stopped any sound that she may have ever made. Eyes snapping shut, she found herself trusting him in a way that she never had before, and only the sound of gunfire made her scream, her heart ricocheting with fear and her body trembling anxiously. Curling up inside of herself, she refused to watch the scuffle, bringing her knees to her chest, and covering her head in a last attempt to save herself.

The silence had been near deafening, her heart thrashing at her chest like an animal as she waited. Prayed that she hadn’t lost the last little bit of hope she may ever have. And once the scuffle was over, she head his voice again, and slowly moving, breath heaving inside of her chest to calm the sounds that may have become sobs, she peered out at him fearfully from behind her hands. Scrounging up the last remaining bits of bravery and strength, she tried to make herself powerful, straightening her back, and wiping at her red, watery eyes before they had the chance to leak over.

“If you want to kill me you’d better do it now.” She said suddenly, and quite firmly, despite a small flaw disguised as a crack in her surprisingly delicate voice. If he’d come looking for her, then it had to have been for a reason, and knowing Captain O’Connell, it couldn’t have been a good one. “I-I’m sure they would have done it for you, if you’d waited...”



Her suggestion of making him look away only made his cheeks flush more, realizing that he hadn’t the first few seconds that he saw her. “I never said you had to, but...you’d probably be more comfortable.” He said, trying to sound at least a little intelligent, rather than thinking about the figure that he’d just seen. The beautiful, womanly shape of her body, that he now tried to toss from his minds eye. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful woman - christ, she was. She had grown more beautiful than he could have imagined. But finding her attractive would only cause him problems. Trusting her had given him enough. Caring for her in ways more than one would only hurt him.

His ears, however, followed every sound of the moves that she made, his eyes staring at the floor before him, but his mind wandering to the way that she must have looked in the light of the room. A thought that made his pulse quicken, and his consciousness scorn himself all the more. “I-” He paused, almost choking on the way that he spat out his words so quickly at her statement. He wondered, briefly, what it must have been like for them. What life was like here, how she and his brother had grown. Had they ever, he pondered, been together in a way that she seemed to bare no shame of? While he had been cozying up in warmed cotton beds of strangers, alcohol left upon coffee tables, with red and black lace scattered about the bedroom floor. “I’ve seen plenty.” Ronan said, simply and straight to the point, deciding that elaborating might only make her mind jealous. Though, truly, he rather liked the idea of her with puckered lips and red cheeks, eyes green with envy or dark with curiosity and disappointment. He chuckled at the thought of it, a quick smile taking over his face for the time being. But sexuality and seriousness never went hand in hand, so the thoughts were killed, and the heart was stirred to a place of emotion rather than pleasure.

Ronan wondered if he had gone too far. But how could she ever understand if he didn’t give her a way to relate to it? An example, that showed just how he felt about returning. Regardless of what Ramsey, or even she may have wanted, coming back wasn’t an option for him. It had been a necessity. The guilt of staying there would have killed him before old age ever would have had the chance to, even if staying here would prove to be more dangerous - or even deadly.

“Then imagine how I must have felt, knowing I’d been given a gift that I couldn’t share?” He saw the way that it effected her, as she fell too the floor and he returned his gentle gaze to her. He could see it in the way that her eyes fell, the way that her body moved, and her thoughts seemed to wander. He knew what she was thinking of. Not of him, or of Ramsey - of the past that she had created for them. But of her own past, just as he intended. Sometimes pain brought about the greatest of decisions, and he wanted her to see that. He wanted her to see what he had come back for, and why finding Ramsey wasn’t an option. Why he had to come back.

The words that she said next were the ones that surprised him.

"Please don't say that to me."

Ronan found his own expression softening, if only for a moment, at the sound of her voice alone. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for her, for the woman that had ruined his life, but how could he not, when she suddenly appeared to be so vulnerable.

Doing as she said, he moved to the side, his eyes not breaking contact with her. Calculating, wondering what her thoughts were, what her movements were. Why those words had effected her so much. “You know that it’s true.” He muttered to her honestly, letting her take the position at his side. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor...” He added quietly, perching a brow just momentarily out of confusion, realizing just how different his worlds had become. “What happened to you?” He asked suddenly, a curiosity getting the best of him. “After I left, I mean?”

[``MIA]

(anngngnsnst. No one's gonna die lmfao not unless you want them to xDDDD but yeahhhh i don't plan on killing off annnnyone. Unless they're your roommates. XD Lmao yayyyy cannibalismmmm. Sounds fun. But it's also really nasty so lmao don't do it. So where do you work now? XDD I saw that pic with the giant bread
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sC-zW438YLE and this song is epic and totally a spacy theme song for this rp lmfao)

This, he decided, was what he was familiar with. Her hair was in disarray, clothes torn apart to reveal smooth skin beneath, and eyes red with tears. He knew what a woman looked like after something like this happened, had been witness to it more times than he'd like to admit as a child, and the sight of it always left a certain touch of dread inside him. No doubt he had desires that were hard to quench, needs that burned whenever a woman so pretty stepped in his view, but he never dared touch them as he seen many men do. He gave them the choice, the option to say no. Ramsey was heartless at most times, but he certainly wasn't without a soul.

"If you want to kill me you'd better do it now."

He expected to get snapped at him for his rather perverse words, but instead was presented with this stubborn, defiant, and confusing woman once more. Ramsey wasn't going to ignore the way she had looked at him when he arrived, like for once in the short time they had been near each other, she thought something good of him. But he knew it simply to be because he was familiar, and though he had threatened to do it, hadn't harmed her yet. He was a safety net compared to these men, something that could only be said through actions alone, as the hope in her eyes had showed him.

"They wouldn't 'ave killed ya', lass." Though it was hidden behind the scars of his face and the furrow of his brow, there was sympathy in his eyes. "But they could've done a lot worse than death." He shifted upon the ground for a moment, avoiding her eyes for the first time since he met her to peel of his jacket, only to toss it into her lap in a quick moment of silence. "Cover yerself up, sweetheart. There may be more o' them about."

Ramsey let her rest there as he stood to face the men on the ground, one still groaning and hands cupping a bloody appendage. He used his foot to turn him over, ignoring his pleas as he bent down to his knees to search through his petty coat with insistent fingers, rough with his touch until the man let out a choked sob. "Quit yer whining..." It was only a moment later when he found a piece of parchment in the man's pocket, opening it up to read it over.

"Is yer Captain still here, lad?"

"You shot me!"

"Aye, I did." He took the moment then, to let his knee rest upon the man's throat, pressing down heavily until bloody hands went to swat at Ramsey's thigh as if it would help his plight. "Answer th' question, kid."

"He's to leave once the sun rises tomorrow."

The silence was deafening, but it could only last so long. With a quick lash of his arm, Ramsey was covering the boy's mouth with a dirty cloth he had kept in his pocket. There was muffled shouts, a struggle that was undoubtedly futile, until finally nothing. Ramsey stood with a satisfied look on his face, turning back to Briony as if he hadn't just done what he had done.

"Come lass, dry yer tears and get up. Th' ground is filthier than ya' can imagine."

He waited until she stood, looking her over carefully, though not without a hint of heat in his eyes. The woman before him, though dirtied from what happened only moments ago, was still a sight to delight in. Beautiful, but not overwhelmingly so. It was mainly her eyes, however, that had intrigued him from the start, the way they burned when she spoke with such heated words. He could see through them easier than anything else.

"I think it's time t' get ya' some new clothes, aye?" He let his hand sweep out in front of him, as if waving her to walk ahead of him, dropping down into another bow although, this one might've been considered mocking. "How's it feel, lass, knowin' yer hereos are rapist bastards?"



Alice wasn't ignorant. She saw the way that Ronan looked at her, the way his eyes lit up even though he tried to hide it. He was careful about the way he said he had seen so many woman, plenty, but it only made her curious. Where was it, exactly, that he had seen so many women? This place was far advance, yes, but their customs were still old as it always had been in tradition. To see women so plenty was usually looked down upon, though boasted about in secret. A part of Alice was pleased to know that she had affected him so easily, another wondered why he was acting so innocent about it.

When he moved about the bed, eyes still upon her, she crawled in close only to bury her face into the softness of the pillow. There was a faint scent that still lingered there, a feminine one, and for a moment her thoughts were lost in the wonder of who could've possibly slept here before them. Did they mind that they slept in their bed?... Were they still alive? With a small groan, she pushed the thoughts away and decided to simply enjoy the comfort of the bed, nuzzling into the feathers that were hidden behind soft fabric. Her eyes were closed, her breathing relaxing into a gentleness that migh've made her look as though she were sleeping.

"Then imagine how I must have felt, knowing I'd been given a gift that I couldn't share?"

"You have no idea what I've felt—what I still feel." Alice snapped back at him without warning, her tone heavy as her eyes shot open to peer at him over her pillow. Alice didn't meant to snap; to be honest, she wanted this to go as civil as possible, because she was tired of fighting. He did it deliberately, bringing up her home, about what she was feeling. He didn't understand, he would never be able to understand, and she wasn't about to describe it to him. It wasn't as if she could simply go back and enjoy the little things, because her planet was burnt to ashes, and all around here memories were stained with the graves of the dead.

"I don't want it to be true." Her words were quiet again, her eyes peering at her fingers as they traced idle designs upon the white sheets beneath her. With a wince, she turned her head back into the protection the pillow provided. "You should know best of all, what happens when someone depends on me."

Much to her delight, it was silent for a moment, and she took the opportunity to let her drowsiness take over her frail form. But she heard him speak again, and with one eye peeked open to peer in his direction, she sighed. He said 'I left' like he had a choice, but they both knew what really happened. "Ramsey found me..." she whispered softly, a distant look in her eyes. She remembered the pain he invoked on her, with both words and force, though it would always be the tears she saw in his moment of vulnerability that would forever linger.

Alice remembered a few brief moments of goodness that his brother had let slip in their time together, some more potent than others. She remembered once, when a plague hit his crew and she had been affected most of all, coughing up mucous and the smell of death, when suddenly it became too much. She woke up surrounded in silk sheets and pillows too soft beneath her head, Ramsey sleeping beside her in a chair like he hadn't moved all night. Years spent hating each other on this ship seemed petty in that moment as his eyes opened and met her own, groggy but aware. She knew then that they clung to one another, even though at most times hatefully, because they needed what they had to offer. He provided for her the company of a male figure, a protector of sorts, a man to keep those that sought her out at bay, while she was the only remaining link to Ronan and his past he had left. There had even been a time where Alice was glad Ronan was gone, because though he never showed it, Ramsey depended on her simply for her presence and she never had that before, even if both of them knew it was for their own twisted reasons.

"He tricked me too, you know. He was is the reason I am in Albatross. I was waiting for him to do it, you know, to kill me for what I did to you. He never did. At least... not until now."

[Mur]

((XD Unless I want them to. Yeah, sure, go ahead and pin it on me. No, we can do whatever you want. And we will see how the story progresses. Make everyone miserable and then all happy in the end. =3 Send Briony back home and have no way to get back and all that jazz. Then we have some fun. But we always have fun.

Yeaaaaah my roommates...are interesting people...but full of shit...so idek. I work at a grocery store now, but not really xD BECAUSE...there is like a legitimate restaurant inside of the grocery store, like...sit down and all that, and I will be waitressing there. =3 so far its not bad and the pay is super nice but...like...since its a brand new opening, the schedules are super shitty right now, and I just...I am so stressed is awful. But I think I'll like it in the long run. Or at least I hope I will >< ))

There were two things tying Briony to an active consciousness, to paying attention, and not cowering in a corner like a child afraid of the dark; curled up with eyes closed, waiting for a parent to preform a rescue. And those things were the slowing steadiness of her own breathing, and the look of his eyes. Though he would have hated to know it, or to hear it, his eyes held more compassion than she thought he body, or the weight of his words ever would. Perhaps it was the presence of a hidden soul that made them that way, or simply the way that his genes had designed them, but there was a kindness there, that even as he spoke with carelessness and indifference, a part of her, deep within her very core, wanted to trust him. Wanted to believe that it was okay, that he had rescued her, and that she could breathe again without worrying about the next steps she may be forced to take. He was a cold, cruel man, but each small part of her was beginning to doubt the truth of her own thoughts, of her own design. Even the part of her that hated him.

"But they could've done a lot worse than death."

His words stopped her stone cold, and she felt her stomach lurch at the thought, her eyes diverting themselves from him briefly, out of both fear and of shame. Her hopes had been tossed away, the things that she thought she could rely on, and in the first time in a great while she found herself utterly and undeniably lost. And it wasn’t until he placed his jacket in her lap that she found anything to grab ahold of.

Flinching at the contact, human or not, Briony jumped, intimidated, at the feeling of a heavy object being laid across her. Though she did not protest it, her eyes followed Ramsey suspiciously, before her fingers moved to grasp the gift, curling nervously, anxiously around the fabric and pulling it close. As he began to move away, a panic went out through her body, her own stance rising in an eager move to follow him - an unnecessary move, as he walked towards the wounded man, but a knee-jerk reaction that pleaded for help and attention. Even with his order to cover herself up, she found herself hesitating out of nothing more than natural instinct, to see where he was going before she might return to his duties. The very core of her being unintentionally screaming a plea, don’t leave me here.

But the truth of the matter only made her stomach churn more. Telling herself not to watch, she listened to the sound of him, the sound of the other man as they fought - verbally, and with little action. She tried her best to ignore it, trembling as she brought Ramsey’s coat around her, an unfamiliar smell clinging to the oversized clothing as she pulled it gently around her shoulders. Swimming in the fabric, still warm from his own use, it was the first thing to comfort her since his gaze. Like a blanket, the place of his shoulders covered hers and more so, his size; strong and lean, suddenly becoming a vast comparison between the power of both himself and of her. Reminding her of how weak she was compared to a man like him - how delicate, like porcelain. And as he finished with the other man, she had no reaction to him but a stare. A stare of question, and of fear.

Rising to her feet, she batted the last remaining tears away from her face, straightening up and curling inside of the jacket that he had given her, clinging to it as though it were the only protection between herself and space. And in truth, he was the only barrier between her and death.

“Did you kill them?” She asked, her voice, though still strong, suddenly strained and hoarse. No longer hiding itself behind the restraints of good appearances. He hadn’t cared so much for them before, her body and mind told her to stop fighting. Though still rich with recklessness, the adrenaline that kept her fighting now stooped to a low that told her to walk forward, to follow him for as long as she might need to, even when her feet began to bleed. Even if she hated him. Even if she wanted, more than anything, just to be rid of him. She found herself with little to no choice. A nod was all he got in response to his first question, but his second made her stop in her pace. Made her freeze in her position upon this planet. Her heart sink, and her eyes drop to the ground.

“I trusted them.” She murmured, not moving, or looking from the earth beneath her feet. “I trusted them, and they-” She cut herself off, shaking her head violently, biting her bottom lip sharply to keep within concentration. She had trusted them, and they had betrayed her. They had knocked her to the ground, and tried to violate her - tried to take something from her, to ruin her, and she had been helpless to stop them. And for some godforsaken reason, he had stopped them.

Turning to face Ramsey, Briony mustered up enough courage to stand straight, crossing her arms together insecurely, whether out of cold or of fear, the heat and comfort of the jacket giving her a moment of power. She forced herself to look him in the eyes, and utter two small words she had said before, but hadn’t held nearly as much conviction as they were about to.

“Thank you, Captain O’Connell.”




There was still a childlike quality about Alice, buried beneath the hard exterior she had grown in his absence. Beneath the shell that she had been forced to grow after the destruction of her planet, after she was left alone. As she buried her face into the pillow, Ronan could almost see it. The child that had been left behind, lost somewhere in the world that had ruined every thought she had ever wanted to be true. And that part of her, he believed, was the most beautiful. The most vulnerable, and the most sensual. He didn’t doubt that she would have been the craving of many men, had her world been allowed to remain. Even now, there had to have been a man upon the streets they had passed. No, dozens, that had seen the beauty of her face and the softness of her skin, and wanted to touch it, to take it as their own. And perhaps he related to those men more than he would have liked, feeling the presence of her body now so close to his.

Firing back was not the way that he responded to her words. He wasn’t going to tip-toe around her, either. He wanted to call things out as they were, but scolding her, or claiming that her feelings weren’t justified was the wrong way to go about it. He couldn’t know how she felt. It was impossible. Though his world had completely disappeared to him, and he had been thrown into a different place entirely, he would never understand the feeling of watching your entire world - your entire race vanish before your eyes, to nothing more than a pile of dust, drifting endlessly through space. Though he had lost his parents, his brother still remained, and in truth, she had nothing. It had all been taken from her. She had only what she chose to have, those that she let into her life. And there were very few, he was sure, if any, men or women alike that she trusted. Not that trust had ever been a thing that came easily to her, but when she had betrayed it enough, it gave no reason for anyone to return it. And life without trust, he had learned, was life without much. Even in the smallest of ways.

“Want and honesty are two very different things.” Ronan said calmly, attempting to be gentle with her. She had been broken a long time ago, he had known that since the day that he met her, so long ago. When she had betrayed him, he firmly believed that she hadn’t meant it. Not the first day. But trickery was a deadly thing, and thought, with time, brought about clarity. And he hoped that someday he could forgive her for that, for betraying him, for making him hate himself, for ruining his brother’s chance at life as well as his own. If she took him where he wanted to go, if she brought about the actions that he desired, then maybe, at the height of her luck, he would no longer frown at the memory of her. “I do. I do know what happens when people depend upon you.” He nodded in admission, his calm demeanor a surprise even to himself. “But I haven’t got much of a choice, have I? You said so yourself. I’ve been gone too long. You think my faith in you is an option, but it’s not. As of right now, I have nowhere else to go. Surely you’ve figured that out. I’m going to use up my resources soon enough. And if I can’t find Ramsey, then I might as well have taken your place at the execution. It would have saved both of us time.”

There was a strangeness to her tone as she spoke to him, breathing out the words "Ramsey found me...". It was a sadness, a solemnness that he couldn’t have imagined on his own, but had to exist independently of his own prejudice. As much as Ronan trusted his brother, the solidarity with which she spoke worried him. She had said it once already, that his brother was not entirely the man that he had once known. That time, distance, and space between them must have changed him in some way or another. The hardness of this life, versus the luxury of his own. Yet as she spoke again, he knew that all he could do now was wonder. That their business was not yet his to know, and for now, would be nothing but a mystery to his consciousness.

“He wouldn’t have killed you.” Ronan said firmly, his voice strong with conviction as he looked to her. “Ramsey may have changed, but he wouldn’t have taken your life into his hands so briskly. Punished you, yes. And if he’s as bad as you claim, I don’t doubt it was severe. But Ramsey wouldn’t have taken your life. I trusted you too much; he wouldn’t have hurt the memory of me by murdering you. Even if he may have wanted to you. Not that it comes as a comfort, I’m sure. But your life isn’t his to take. Nor anyone else’s. You understand that, don’t you?” He asked, wondering if she understood just how much she meant to the pair of them. Good or bad.

[``MIA]

(xDDD well, I won’t kill one of them off unless you want to. I mean, I’ll be sad, but I’ve done it before. HAH. A happy ending would be nice though. Lmao. I was thinking, like the gif, Bri goes home and that’s them saying goodbyeeeee. Sigh, sadness. But then for some reason she finds him in the real world and he’s like “wtf are you” but he looks like him and just bleh. But still. Happy ending.

Ohh a high end grocery store. O.o I went to one of those for training in ohio like a few weeks ago, it was so flipping awesome. Yeah but I understand how you feel, work can be very stressful. Mine right now seems like everyone didn’t move on from college, and my manager’s trying to get my sister and I fired, and it’s just all very dramatic. I’ma bold my words like you. Lmfaoooo. Make it look profess)

It was easy to pretend he didn’t see the way she rose after him as he moved away, or even the hitch in her breath at the effort, but for some reason, Ramsey didn’t want to. There had been a split second where he wanted to turn around, look the woman in the eye, and just tell her with gentle fingers guiding her body that, though he was cruel, he was not inhuman. He would never hurt her as those men had, wouldn’t even dare. He had spent far too long on the dirty streets of Dread to simply look upon this tragedy with indifference—even though he acted it just now—because that wasn’t the type of man that Ramsey was. He was the punch first, ask questions later if he’s still alive type of guy, but absolutely hated the thought of a woman being forced to her knees for one twisted man’s hungry desires. He could look a woman in the eye, spat horrible things at her until perhaps he was just as worse, but he would never grab them and violate them as he had seen so many vile men do. He was dishonorable, but at times, honorable wicked if that ever made any sense.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that, way in the past before Ronan was born, men would come and press their mother into walls and have their way with her. Ramsey always fell asleep hearing her sobs. Though he hated her for it, for leaving them, a small part of him was relieved when she finally passed away a few years after Ronan was born. Perhaps then she could find a peaceful place amongst the stars, he’d tell his little brother in the dead of night, when he asked Ramsey where their mother is. Ronan began to call it heaven eventually, and Ramsey didn’t ever have the heart to tell him that heaven didn’t exist, at least not for people like them.

So, when Briony shook and trembled beside him when they finally got to walking, he found himself subconsciously half-walking in front of her, like a shield of some sorts.

“Did you kill them?”

He glanced behind him at the men they were leaving behind, before shrugging with a look that was empty, yet there was vague amusement in his eyes. “Th’ one that blocked my sword with 'is stomach is surely dead, lass. But th’ other one has th’ option to live, if he can survive what I gave him.” Once upon a midnight dreary, as the line went, a plague had hit Dread, something the people called the rat plague. It turned half the population into mindless creatures that rotted even while they remained living. Eventually a cure had been found by some of the more intelligent people that lingered there, and so all those who lived on Dread became immune, but those who did not…

“Ya’ see, it’s th’ Captain’s choice. He’ll realize that his mate there is sick, hopefully not before he infects a few others on that boat, and kill th’ man off himself. It’ll slow the bastard down a bit—I don’t expect it to entirely stop him, however.” One may think that it was reckless, doing what Ramsey had done, but considering that this planet was so close to Dread, they too had experienced the plague too once. Hopefully, it would only be the Naval crew to be affected, and Ramsey would at least have a head start back to his home.

When she fell quiet for a moment after he asked his rhetorical question, about whether she still believed in these men, he found himself glancing back at her and softening. He knew how it felt, to trust in something so much, only to have it ripped away from you at the last moment. “Sometimes trust is th’ thing to get ya’ killed in the end, lass. ‘Tis a good thing ya’ don’t trust me either, I’m not a man to depend on.” The scarred half of his face had gentled considerably, even more so when he winked back at the girl teasingly. “Ya’ are a smart lassie, wouldn’t want ya’ losing that though trusting th’ wrong man.[/I][/b]”

He would’ve continued walking, headed straight for the little shop the sold fine clothes and other wares, but he heard her footsteps behind him silence. With a frown, he turned to face her, only to let surprise flicker on his face for the slightest moment at her words. He wouldn’t have told her, but even as a mess, the woman looked beautiful, even more so with his heavy coat resting on her shoulders and making her appear much frailer than she really was. Had they been in another life, where instead their words were filled with kindness and affection, the sight of her now might’ve made him possessive.

“Look there, lass. Don’t blink now, but I think ya’ learned a bit o’ respect just now.” His words were just a little taunting, but the smile he offered her, the first one since they met, was sincere. “Yer welcome, miss Devereux. But we only have a wee bit o’ time…”

The shop was small, but it was quaint. The clothes were in all sorts of colors, pretty flowered designs with heavy watches hidden into pockets, and hats with gauges on them. He may have once spent his fair share of time in here, with a woman who’s name still held disdain, but he never enjoyed it. “Pick out what ya’ want.”





She hated him. She wanted to spat it in his face and turn over, to never look at him again, but she couldn’t. Alice wouldn’t let herself steep so low into immaturity, into this anger she still felt around him and the mere mention of his brother, because it was in the past. It had to stay in the past. Maybe one day when she fulfilled whatever it was that Ronan wanted from her, she would be able to be free herself, to let herself go where death would take her and peace would find her again. Alice wasn’t suicidal at all, she had been fighting death since the start, but sometimes time took the advantage of her loneliness to shed upon her misery and the desire to see her family again, even if it meant coming from the hands of the reaper.

Alice believed in heaven, and she even believed in god. She never told Ramsey this, or even Ronan when they had been younger, because a part of her was ashamed at herself. How could she still love an entity that had never helped her? But she did, still prayed to him at night when the lights went out, told him how much she loved him for never leaving her side, because she was so tired of being alone. And sometimes, sometimes if she concentrated hard enough, she could feel his presence beside her and her sadness did not feel so great.

But sometimes she didn’t want to believe in him, like she didn’t want to now. Why did he let this happen to her? Maybe it was pay back, for what she had done to the O’Connell brothers.

“And if I can’t find Ramsey, then I might as well have taken your place at the execution.”

“Then when this only leads in failure, perhaps we can die together then.” Her eyes met his then, a firm frown set upon her lips, wanting him to understand the complete sobriety of her words. Because though he was only comparing what he would feel if they didn’t find Ramsey, she was showing him that her need for it was true, that death would’ve been a gift had he not took it away from her.

He told her he knew what happened when someone depended on her, yet he was doing so anyway. Did he not see he would do just fine on his own? Had it been the other way around, Alice would’ve never been able to find a safe place for them to hide, would’ve perhaps lost her temper on the poor old woman whose kindness still made Alice feel guilt. Ronan knew Ramsey better than anyone, even if he had changed, so why did he need her?

Maybe it was to not feel so lonely, she thought.

“He wouldn’t have killed me, but he wanted to.” The force of her words were startling again, fingers curling into her pillow even as she hid away into it once more. “I don’t think you understand—you’ve been away too long, maybe you’ve forgotten. But in this world, it doesn’t matter if life isn’t someone’s to take, because they’ll take it anyway. Right and wrong doesn’t matter here, Ronan. If you give a man a gun, he’ll fire it, whether it’s the moment his finger touches the trigger or in the future, when he finds his wife is sleeping with another woman. If you give them the power, they’ll do use it.”

And Ramsey had the power. As time passed, she clung to his very being for his strength, and he could’ve taken advantage of that… But Ronan, she thought bitterly, was right because he never did.

“Why is it you want me here anyway? I don’t know how to find your brother, and it seems like you’ve done a fair job for yourself already. Why me? What are you after?” Her eyes narrowed, her body shifting so she could lean over him with a sneer on her lips, a sign that said, though she was small, she would use what was in her strength to defend herself. "If you're keeping something from me, Ronan..."