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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: December 1st, 2013, 8:13 am 
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[Like I promised: here's my post for Tim. I'll get the rest up soon, but you can reply to this if you want. :) ]


Tim had stopped walking and turned to Bathsheba. He held her hand in his strong grasp, as if afraid that she would run away and would never return. Her words made him glow inside, as if he just drank a complete glass of liquor. He ran his other hand up her arm to her shoulder and he looked at Bathsheba as he said: “ Who could ever not care for you?”

However, his face clouded slightly as he heard the pleading tone in Bathsheba's voice. “I stopped dreaming a long time ago.” Tim quietly responded to her last question. “It was just too hard to dream but then to wake up to darkness.”

But still.. he couldn't deny that the idea of a place where the winters were short and the summers warm was appealing. Away from this dirty harbour, those cruel sailors and the ever present threat of Redcoats. “I wish it was so easy, that I could just step aboard and travel to the unknown. But it would mean giving up so much.” Tim paused and turned away from Bathsheba to conceal the pain in his face. Never before had he spoken to her, or anyone for that matter, about the underlying frustrations of his impairment. It was not in Tim’s nature to be bitter. But this sudden range of possibilities had crystallized how restrained he was. However, it was this place, where he had been born and raised, he knew his way around and therefore was relatively independent.

“It is just humiliating not to be able to have a job or even walk the streets without assistance. It is almost as if I am not a man..” Tim spoke quietly and he ran his hand through his hair, which he usually did when he was not at ease. “In a new place this will only be worse.” His voice trailed off and Tim listened to the soothing sound of splashing water against the shore.

Stop it. He said strictly to himself. It had been long since he felt so bitter; it had been years in fact. Years ago, just after the accident, he had been in a very dark place. He had not been able to handle his affliction and there had been no one to tell him how to. He was angry at the entire world, he had been breaking things and getting into fights. Tim had wished for everything to end and there to be no morning for him. So in the end, he just lay down on the street and prayed for a never ending slumber to arrive. But however invisible to Tim, morning came and the morning after as well. It turned out to be the mildest winter in a winter in a decade and there was still such a thing as compassion in his fellow men.

Later he had sworn never to go to that dark place ever again and to remember that he had been given a second chance. So now Tim remembered, as he stood there facing the water. He felt the cold breeze on his face, but realised that because of all the adrenaline he was not cold anymore. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a possibility that in some place out there where he could live a different life.

Tim turned around again as if he had just remembered that Bathsheba was still standing there. His face was unreadable. Then he said finally: “But what is a man if does not make the things better?” He tilted his head slightly and smiled. “A coward.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: December 25th, 2013, 9:08 pm 
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[Merry Christmas Goldy! :happy: ]

Liam watched how Guinevere descended the stairs to the Captain’s quarters. He had answered her words by kissing her forehead ever so softly, but there was pain in his eyes as he watched her go. He ought to go after her, to watch her back, but something kept him from joining Guinevere and playing the happy couple like she did; it was Cairbre. Even though the man had turned his back at them and had -supposedly- been blind to the scene that had just taken place, Liam figured that he might have heard Guin’s words.

There was something in Cairbre’s presence that, unlike Guinevere, he could not ignore. Liam walked over to Cairbre and joined him, staring out over the quiet water. Something had happened after all those life-threatening events of the last couple of months. Something had changed between Eagle and himself, changing Cairbre from being his enemy into a companion. Perhaps it was because there was now a feeling of mutual respect between them. The honesty that Cairbre had shown moments before demanded reciprocation.

Liam sighed and shook his head. “It would have been me wishing you well, if it weren't for me,” Liam said sadly. “You may think that I am glad for coming and offsetting these terrible events, which have led, in your eyes, to what I was after.” He grimaced, and even though his face was mostly cloaked by shadows of darkness, he kept his eyes focused on the reflection of the moon in the water. When he continued, there was pain in his voice. “I have not been happy, at all. This was never supposed to be this way. All I know is that Guinevere would not have chosen me if she admitted her true feelings for you. Before at least.” He was not sure what had triggered him to share these thoughts and feelings, which had plagued him at quiet nights and lonely moments. Perhaps he just wanted to overcome the barrier of silence which Guinevere had constructed. If they were to go on another voyage together, something had to be said.

Liam then finally looked at Cairbre. “And that’s why, when this is all over, you and Guinevere will have to talk this over. She must make up her mind what it is what she wants.”

Only a few moments later, Guinevere appeared with a fine-looking man, obviously the captain of this vessel. Liam snickered upon hearing his empty threats. Being surrounded by three pirates, who were all armed, and none of the crew here to fend for him, there was really nothing the man could do. "This fine gentleman is right of course!" Liam exclaimed. "A captain belongs on his ship! And so he should remain here.. at least until we are well out of the harbour and then he shall be captain of his own personal row boat." He looked at Guinevere and Cairbre. "What do you think?"


----------


Ciaran took out his flask and took a sip, while his eyes rested on Rosalind. Underneath her detached exterior he detected that there was a fierce but arrogant attitude; a woman who was used to getting her way and a woman, who had not always been a pirate and an outcast.

“No, I think you can say, I am not one of you, lass,” he chuckled. “The name is Ciaran Archer and lets say that I bargained for a passage on this ship.”

Ciaran drank some more of the clear water in his flask and looked up to the night sky and the moon. It was getting late and it would be only be a matter of time before the guards noticed that the prisoners and the good Samaritan, who gave them coins for their ale, were gone. Rosalind, however, had completely other matters on her mind, judging from her remark.
“Well, I hate to break up your fairytale,” Ciaran responded wryly, “but it seems to me that she is not with your brother now. But hey, no one can blame you for not knowing, you have been out of the game for quite a while, so it seems.”

He chuckled again when Rosa turned her back at him, as if she was stubbornly trying to shut out his words. Without taking his eyes from the quiet street, the bounty hunter offered his flask to Rosalind. “Here, take this. It’s probably not a real drink for a pirate, but you need it. You look as if you might collapse.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: December 25th, 2013, 11:35 pm 
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(Merry Christmas Will! :D btw, I've posted for SN too tonight! =D)

Bathsheba leaned forward and quickly hugged Tim around the shoulders, alarmed by the sudden depressed and dark turn of his words. She acted impulsively, perhaps even a touch selfishly, wanting to ease her friend's pain to lessen her own guilt. She felt cruel, trying to persuade him to leave everything that he knew, asking him to start again in a strange new place. She looked over his shoulder out into the darkness, blinking several times. She had no idea what to say that might make him feel better. After all, she was no miracle worker. She could not return his sight to him, or make it so that he no longer needed his cane for support. She held onto him, wishing that she could become more wise or more eloquent. As it was, she could only be herself and offer her own words.

"Don't speak like that, Tim," she said. "I don't see a coward when I look at you. I see my friend, a person who's far braver than I could ever hope to be. And a great deal smarter than me, too. I'm sorry if I've made you upset... I've been selfish, I know that." She began to gabble, her words running together as her anxiety rose. "I should be able to understand by now that I'm not the person I was before. I'm just a street urchin now." She pulled back from her tight embrace, hoping that she had not embarrassed Tim. She curled up her hands inside the long arms of her oversized man's coat and glanced down at the cobbled streets.

"I was once somebody," she continued quietly. "If my father hadn't lost all of our money, I'm sure that I would have been married by now. But I can't keep harking back to the past," she added. "That was a long time ago. I just wish you could have seen me then." I wish you could see me now too, she silently said in her head. It was hard for her to know that Tim would never see her face. She felt like she had become just a voice and a supportive arm, disembodied from herself. If she could have given him eyes that could see, she would have.

~~~

"No thank you," Rosalind snapped at Ciaran, rather more rudely than was at all necessary. She was actually parched, thus it would have been sensible of her to accept his offer, but her pride would not allow it. Already she had developed an irrational hatred for the man, and one formed on such a slender basis too. "I am more than capable of going without!" She pushed his flask away. "A slug of liquid isn't exactly going to make everything wonderful, is it? It's not going to heal up my mangled foot, is it?" Her cheeks had flushed bright red with fury, and her tone of voice rose. It was obvious by now that after all she had gone through, she was not really in her proper state of mind. "They're lovely chaps, your friends the redcoats, aren't they? Archer, did you say your name was? Well, Archer, do you want to see a pretty sight?"

Without any warning, she bent down and snatched the shoe off of her injured foot, casting it into the air, her jaw clenched in defiance. The full gory horror of her little tar-sealed stump was revealed, and her eyes glittered almost triumphantly. "You see? You'd better start taking a more serious look at the world you're entering, lad. Take care," she warned him, "otherwise it'll be the noose for you. Better men than the likes of you have danced the gallow's jig."

~~~

"I think that the 'ayes' win this vote, sir," Guinevere informed the captain sarcastically, her pistol still jammed against his back. The man was sweating with anger, humiliation and resentment; this ordeal was clearly made all the worse for him by the fact that his ship had been commandeered by a woman. He continued to throw all manner of curses and derogatory names at her, but she paid no heed, talking straight over him to Liam and Cairbre. "We'll put him in the cells for now and then it'll be a row boat for him. Poor soul doesn't realize that we're being generous. If his ship had fallen prey to some other captain he'd be dead by now." With these words, she shoved the man along down the steps which led to the cells. Once the prisoner was properly secured with no means of escape afforded to him, Guin returned to the deck. A somewhat burdened expression marked her features, and she ran a hand lightly over her brow.

She remained standing where she was for a few moments, uttering not a word. Appearing hesitant at first, Cairbre stepped forward towards her. Just because she wasn't talking to him properly didn't mean that he wasn't allowed to be concerned for her welfare, as indeed he was. "Guin? Are you alright?"

Guin looked up at him, startled by the sound of his voice. Her look deepened into a frown. "I'm fine," she replied firmly. "Just a bit tired from the long journey to the court house." She was, but there was more to it than just that, of course. But she didn't want Cairbre stepping in, asking questions, acting as if nothing had happened at all. She felt the sudden furious urge to reach out and shake him by the shoulders, but at the same time, she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

"If you're too tired, one of us will take over the lead," Cairbre suggested. He sounded tired too, although his eyes shone with both resignation and frustration. "It needn't be a worry for you." He reached out and touched Guin's arm, a gesture intended to comfort her; instead, it had the opposite effect.

"Don't touch me!" she burst out, snatching herself away from him. The shocked hurt now visible on Cairbre's face filled her with guilt, but she couldn't help it. "I... I mean it, Cairbre. I mean it." Her voice broke slightly. "You can't just pick up where you left off... you can't." In her upset, she had made the decision to be honest with him. Neither of them could take the strain of keeping everything unsaid anymore. "Things cannot be as they were for us." She shook her head gently and looked away for a moment, before looking back, her eyes glistening, although no tears spilt. "They cannot be and they will not be." She hurriedly pushed past him. "We must make haste and fetch the others..."

"No!" Cairbre stopped her. He didn't want to cause a scene but something inside him had snapped. He had to hear everything from her; he had to hear it, now. "Tell me!" he grasped her by the elbows, gently but firmly enough to keep her where she was for the time being.

"Tell you what?" Guin demanded, struggling. She didn't want to be held by him; she didn't want to fall into the trap of her love for Cairbre. He had hurt her, however unintentionally, too much for her to think that it could ever be made right. If she went back to Cairbre her heart would only break all over again with the memory of everything that had happened.

"Do you love him?" Cairbre wanted to know. "Guin, answer me, do you love Liam?"

"Yes!" Guin shouted back, with no thought as to the possibility of their argument attracting unwanted attention from the redcoats, who were surely looking for them by now. "I always did! I always will." She wrenched herself free from Cairbre and marched away from him, slowly turning her glance towards Liam. Her words were the truth. She had seen the pain in Liam's eyes and was desperate for him to know that she would not leave him, that he meant the world to her, that he always had. Always would. With eyes full of tears, Guin gently brushed past Liam, shivering as their hands brushed, and went to look out for Rosa and Ciaran.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 6th, 2014, 11:18 am 
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Liam stood transfixed, unable to pretend that he was occupied with something else, as the conversation between Guinevere and Cairbre increased in volume and was clearly audible to all aboard. He could not help but listen intently to every single word that was exchanged. The dread he felt by being included in what was supposed to be a private conversation was eventually overcome by the surprise and relief of hearing Guinevere’s final words. If only her words had not been said in such anger, almost with spite.

He glanced at Cairbre. A lot had changed indeed for this discrete gentleman to engage in this topic now, for all to hear. “Could you make sure that we are ready to depart as soon as we have collected the others?” Liam asked. And after a last apologetic look at Eagle, he followed Guinevere.

“Guin!” Liam called out. He quickly caught up with her and before she could leave the ship, he gently took her arm, so that she was forced to stop and look at him. Her face was unreadable and Liam could only guess what she was thinking or feeling. Even though his heart could burst from joy of hearing Guinevere’s confession, he could not help but speak up, even if it would ruin his chances.

He took her hand in his as he spoke: “Please, listen to me, Guin. It was wrong of Cairbre to speak to you as he did. It was the wrong place and the wrong time.” His voice was soft, as he did not want his words to be overheard and in his dark eyes doubt was visible that he had felt all this time and which her words had not taken away.

“But despite of what you feel now,” he continued persistently, “you were.. are engaged to marry him. You chose him all those years ago, pledged your love to him when I returned.. uttered his name when you were close to death.” His voice had grown stronger and decisive and he only hoped that he could get through to Guin. He had tried not to think of their risky escape and the manhunt that followed, or their desperate wanderings before the humiliating stay at Lord’s Autumn’s house. All he wanted was to put as much distance between him and this rainy island where he was stared at as if he was not human. Deep inside he understood why Guinevere tried to shut out her true feelings. He just couldn't accept it.

“All I ask of you is that you think about what and who you truly want.” Liam quickly raised his hand to ward off Guin’s immediate reply. “Do not tell me now, but think about it. I..” He paused for a moment, biting his lip. “I wouldn't hold it against you if you don’t choose me. I just want an honest answer. One you will never regret.”

----

Ciaran watched silently how Rosalind uncovered her foot and showed the bloody wound, where there used to be a toe. The almost childlike display she performed was driven by the furiousness of what had happened to her and the need to blame anyone for this misfortune. Ciaran, however, had not moved a wink. “Put your boot back on, before you lose the entire foot due to contagion,” he responded bluntly. “And do not pretend to know me. I never claimed to feel any friendship for any of the King’s men, nor do I form an alliance with them. Whatever they did to you was not a fault of my making.”

As Ciaran spoke there was a subtle change in his appearance. His dark-rimmed eyes were shooting fire and his voice was soft, but filled with anger. As he stood eye to eye with Rosalind, his entire appearance seemed more threatening.

“I’ve seen bone and flesh exposed in more gruesome ways than this. I have felt the pain of losing a loved one and have been afflicted with the despair which followed. I know betrayal in all its fine nuances.” His eyes were focused on Rosa’s and he grabbed both of her arms and held her in his firm grasp, as if with that he could make her see the meaning of his words; he was not her enemy. “So don’t for a second suppose that you know me, madame. Or that you have been the only one who has seen hell.”

Then suddenly, he let go of Rosalind and took a step back. There was a long silence, but then continued in a calm and friendly tone. “You still need that water, though. You’re standing on the brink of exhaustion and delusion. It will refresh you and make you feel a little bit better. It’s about time that you step out of the shadows and start taking care of yourself.”

------

Suddenly Tim felt how two arms were wrapped around his skinny frame. After only a short moment of uneasiness, Tim relaxed and rested his head on Bathsheba’s. It was amazing how much a single gesture could tell. Her embrace gave warmth, but even more comfort and support, which hardly could be equalled by any words. Even though Bathsheba had often taken his arm to guide him or they had huddled together for warmth during a cold night, never had they connected in such a way. A smile formed on Tim’s lips; he decided that he liked it. He was equally conscious of the surge of sadness he felt when the embrace was broken.

Turning around, the young man realized that the recollections of her past had made Bathsheba upset. There was a quiver in her voice and her sentences seemed less coherent as she looked for words to apologise. His eyes did not entirely focus on her face, as he looked at her. But his index finger found her lips to stop her flow of words.

“Ssshh” he said quietly, “I know.” Of course, Tim did not know, as this was the first time that Bathsheba spoke about her past, but he had always suspected something, that she came from a different kind of home than he did. “I can picture you,” Tim smiled with shining eyes. “In a beautiful gown, surrounded by important people. Gems and pearls in your blond hair. Your smile.”

It was strange that without his eye sight, his ability to see her, she was still so visible to Tim. The sound of her smile, her voice, the light touch of her hand. It was like a sixth sense had taken over, making up for that he couldn't see. “Did I already tell you that you have a lovely smile?”

Tim picked up indistinct voices from afar. There was movement on the ship to which the pirates had headed. It could not be long before the streets would be swarming with Redcoats, in search of the escaped prisoners. Now would be the time to choose between old and new; his home or an adventure; a life with some securities or one with possibilities.

“You’re right,” he admitted. He took his cane in his left hand, linked his right arm in hers and guided her down the docks. “We can’t remain living in the past. Lets make a new start.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 11th, 2014, 12:32 am 
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The discomfort which Bathsheba had felt immediately melted away the moment Tim agreed to her plan. She could hardly find the words to express what she felt as they hurried along together down towards the docks; she held on tightly to Tim's arm, her footsteps moving quickly over the cobbled ground, doing her best to make sure that Tim didn't trip over. "I can't wait, I can't wait!" were the only words that passed her lips, her voice filled with gleeful excitement. In that moment, she felt as if nothing could stop them; not the redcoats, not the pirates themselves whose ship they intended to smuggle themselves onto. She began to almost skip along as the ship loomed further into view. But in a matter of seconds, everything changed and she came to an abrupt halt - the prison bells were being rung, alerting everyone in the town to the escape of the convicts. A pack of armed men wouldn't be far behind now. Icy cold fear filled Bathsheba's heart, and she grabbed Tim's arm even tighter.

"Run!" she yelled. "Tim, run!" She dragged him along with her, running faster than she had ever been known to in her entire life, swearing under her breath and cursing their bad luck. They couldn't lose this chance! She was so driven by her determination that she didn't notice Ciaran and Rosalind, running straight into them and knocking Rosalind down onto the ground. There was a muffled "ow" and a lot of scuffling as Rosalind violently pushed Bathsheba off her, her eyes lit up with the same dangerous fury that had been evident during her argument with Ciaran.

"Silly little girl!" Rosa snapped vehemently. "What's wrong with you?" Her missing shoe lay forgotten on the ground, and she did not appear to have noticed the ominous ringing of the prison bells. Her face was flushed and overexcited with anger. "What is it with you people?" her voice rose. "You're all useless! Like you!" She span round to face Ciaran and shouted right into his face. "We don't need you! Do you hear me? We don't need anyone!" Like some wild animal that had been taunted beyond the point of return, she pounced on him, grabbing him by the throat as if she would strangle him; it indeed appeared that was what she was trying to do. Even though she was exhausted, ill and weak, her anger made her strong.

Bathsheba looked on helplessly. "Stop it!" she cried, feeling utterly pathetic. What use were words here? Taking action, she dragged Rosa away from Ciaran by the waist, proving stronger than her. "Let him go! We aren't supposed to be fighting each other, you mad woman...!" She caught Rosa's wrists so that the woman would not try and strike out at her. In the midst of the struggle, they had not been aware of the sound of rapid footsteps coming their way. They only realized that they were not alone once it was already too late. The sound of a single gunshot filled the air. Rosa now stood frozen still, her face a mask of surprise, as if she had just been punched in the stomach. It was much worse than that.

Acting once again upon pure instinct and filled with adrenaline, Bathsheba quickly grabbed Rosa's pistol and for the very first time in her life, aimed and fired a weapon. She was hardly aware of her finger upon the trigger as she dispatched the redcoat who had followed them, and she gasped out in shock to see the man's dead body slump down onto the ground. For a first timer, she had made a deadly accurate aim, right in the front of his skull. Her breathing heavy, she turned towards Rosa, catching her in her arms as she dropped down.

The redcoat's bullet had went into Rosa's neck, blood gushing forth from the wound at an alarmingly fast rate. "We have to get her onto the ship," Bathsheba said to Tim and Ciaran desperately. "Where are they? The red haired captain and the others?"

~~~

Guinevere was still in shock as she and Liam left the ship together, his words echoing in her mind. Frustrated tears filled her eyes, and she tried to fight off the urge to cry, clenching her jaw and straightening her features, not wanting him to see how hurt and upset she felt. She understood what he had said, of course she did, but his doubt in her and her feelings made her despair. Didn't he know how much she loved him and wanted to be with him? Suddenly stopping walking, Guin gently reached out touched his arm. "You said not to give you an answer now," she said softly, managing to speak calmly and without a waver in her voice. "And I won't if that's what you want. But I meant what I said, and it wasn't to spite Cairbre. I love you, Liam." Her eyes shone with truth as she looked up at him. She would have continued, but suddenly she was alerted by the sound of screaming.

"Oh dear God," she murmured, and started sprinting towards the scene at a terrific speed, knowing that Liam would keep up with her. Reaching Rosalind, Guin fell down onto her knees and cradled her friend's head in her lap, her hands soon becoming stained with blood. Guin's gaze was filled with horror. "Help me lift her!" she cried. Bathsheba was soon at her side, managing the task efficiently as each of them held Rosa up under her arms. "We must get her on board," Guin said as the group moved along the docks towards the ship as fast as they possibly could. "And we must make way immediately." She wished that they had a proper crew to man the ship for an easier time making way, but it couldn't be helped. Her heart pounded with anxiety as she wondered how on earth Cairbre would react to seeing his sister in this state. She didn't have long to find out.

~~~

As soon as the group scrambled on board, Cairbre rushed forward, appalled by the sight that greeted him. Guin carefully lowered Rosa down onto the deck so that she and Bathsheba could catch their breath; Rosa's blood stained her hands, arms, gown and her face as she exhaustedly pushed back her red hair. She watched Cairbre as his eyes widened with horror, utter disbelief etched onto his features. But they couldn't afford to lose any time; Guin needed Cairbre at the helm. Guin wanted to attend to Rosa's wound herself. "Rosalind," Cairbre breathed, quickly kneeling down beside his sister's collapsed form. He tugged at his shirt, ripping at the collar for something to stop the flow of blood.

Guin reached out and stopped Cairbre's hands, catching them in her own. He tried to break free, but she held onto his shoulders now, stooping beside him, trying to get him to stand up. "Cairbre," she begged him desperately. "Cairbre, you must get up! I'll look after her. You must be at the wheel."

He turned his face towards hers to meet her eyes. "I can look after her," he insisted. "You know that I can stitch almost as well as you." Pausing, for a moment his expression was tenderly transformed by memory and sadness. He gestured to the back of Guin's head. "Do you still have those stitches in there?"

Taken by surprise, Guin's hand went involuntarily to her hair. The stitches Cairbre had sewn to patch up the gash on her head that night were still there. Her expression creased with pain, Guin quickly shook her head to make herself jump back into action. "As you said, almost as well as me," she said. "This is delicate work." She didn't want to add that Rosa only had a small chance of surviving. She couldn't bear to say the words. One hand resting on Cairbre's shoulder, she tightened her hold for a moment to remind him of his task. "To the wheel. Everyone else, hoist the sails and all hands! We prepare to make way!"

She gently lifted Rosa up and took her down to the lower decks, directing an anxious smile over her shoulder at Liam as she hobbled past, the weight of her patient becoming almost too great to bear. Rosa's body was getting heavier. Desperately, she pressed the length of linen from Cairbre's shirt collar onto Rosa's neck as the injured woman murmured quietly, her dark hair damp with sweat. Her voice, when it came, was a thin strain of sound. "G-Guin..."

"Rosa? Are you still there?" Guin touched her face with her free hand, wanting to let her friend know that she wasn't alone. "Don't speak if it tires you..." She had to find the supplies room on the ship, fast, but at the same time she couldn't leave Rosa. Hopefully someone would come and help them soon. "I'm here..."

"I... I've missed you, Guin..." A slight smile appeared on Rosa's lips. Her face was deadly pale. "Things... things haven't been the same since... we were parted... I... I haven't been the same... I'm ready now... I'm ready..."

"Ready for what?" Guin asked her, knowing the answer. "No! Don't say that, you must live! Be strong, be strong like you always were. I won't let anything happen to you. I swear it."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 27th, 2014, 6:58 pm 
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Tim had not asked any questions in the aftermath of the attack. His surroundings had provided him with enough sounds, words and cries to deduce what had taken place. He’d stepped away to make room for the other pirates to examine Rosalind and squeezed Bathsheba’s arm. He knew it was her, who had taken the gun and shot the approaching soldier. He was now dead, obviously, judging from the lack of footsteps and the fact they were not showered with a rain of bullets. “You better keep that with you. You seem to know how to use it,” Tim whispered to her. He was unable to convey the words of gratitude, that she had saved his life, probably of all of them. Those words would come later. “It makes you wonder what they learn young ladies nowadays.”

~

Ciaran was still rubbing his throat as he followed the rest as rearguard to the ship. Rosa’s attack had nearly caused him to faint and all that had happened moments before seemed blurry. All that he had managed to rasp when Guinevere and Liam had appeared on the scene was ‘you’re mad…you’re mad’. His breathing was more regular now, even though Rosalind’s attack would leave marks.

“Are there soldiers following us?” The blind lad had turned to him, while the women carried Rosalind across the gangplank. Surprisingly, he seemed quite aware of everything that was going on. Ciaran peeked over his shoulder to confirm what he suspected. “Not yet. But it won’t be long,” he said hoarsely. “There’s a gangplank in front of you, about eight feet and then a few steps up and down to board the ship. So watch your steps.” Ciaran patted Tim on the shoulder and winked, before he left to untie the ropes which kept the ship secure in the harbour.

~

Tim was taken aback by the words of the mercenary. Because that was what this man was. He had heard the pirates quarrel with him, the one who had broken them out of jail. A redcoat’s loyalty would never permit him to do such a thing and a common scoundrel wouldn't have the wits to pull it off, but a mercenary was usually cunning and clever, loyal only to himself. Tim had not expected a kind word of him.

~

Liam was for a short moment surprised to see the young thieves again. They would have to deal with them later; for now they needed all the help they could get. While he was first to board the ship again, wild thoughts crossed his mind of what might have happened for Rosa and Ciaran to be surprised by that Redcoat in such a way and Rosa to get shot. He wondered what the role of the bounty hunter had been in this and whether he had planned this all along, for them to get recaptured again. But then, Liam also knew Rosa and he knew her whims and her mood swings all too well. It would not be the first time that she set her claws into someone.

“Guinevere is right,” Liam suddenly intervened in the conversation between Cairbre and Guinevere, to which he had listened with half an ear. “We need to leave now or else we will loose Rosa for sure and we might not see another sunrise again either. We need all hand on deck and may God help us.”

“I don’t think He’s listening, mate,” a voice behind him said. It was Ciaran, who’d untied the last knots and now kicked the gangplank back ashore. “The cavalry has arrived.”

Only when Liam looked up to the harbour he realised that a large group of Redcoats was coming from the direction of the Courthouse. Some on foot, others on horseback.
For a brief moment his eyes met those of Guin and he nodded to her reassuringly. He was convinced that Guinevere was more than capable of looking after Rosa, but he couldn't be there to help her.

“We will get ready to set sail now!” he said before following Cairbre to the helm.

~

“Bathsheba!” Tim called out, when he heard the Captain taking the injured woman below decks. “Bath-” Then someone tugged his sleeve and he heard her familiar voice again.
“That woman, Rosalind, has she lost a lot of blood? Was her artery severed?” Without waiting for an answer, Tim started to talk very fast, recalling information where he hadn't thought about in years, but which had now just popped up in his mind. “My mother was a healer. She had skills with herbs and they took those, who couldn't afford a doctor, to her.” There had often lain injured men on their kitchen table who had suffered from an accident at the harbour or workshop. His mother would then chase the small children from the kitchen, but often he had stayed behind to help her. But he knew there was nothing he could do now.

“Stitching the wound will not help. Tell the Captain that she needs to cauterise the wound to stop the bleeding. It may give the girl a better chance to survive.."

The sound of hooves and shouts from the docks were clearly audible now. Tim turned to the source of the noise and his face became pale. “They are getting closer. Bathsheba, help the captain. I’ll try to give a hand around here.”

Tim ran towards the far side of the ship, where he knew that the helm of the ship was and therefore the man, who was in charge of the ship. His cane moved from left to right and with his right hand his hand brushed over the ship’s railing, so that he quickly could make his way in this strange surrounding. In his mind a few words repeated itself, like a mantra, a horrible premonition. If they catch us.. we are finished. His foot bumped against what seemed to be a stairs steps and Tim fell forward. Ignoring the blood that trickled inside his mouth, he pushed himself up and climbed the stairs, reaching the sterncastle.

“Tell me, what can I do?” he called out to Cairbre, who was behind the wheel. Impatient, because of the lack of response, Tim tapped with his cane on the deck. “Sir, tell me how I can be of use,” he repeated. “It will be a matter of moments before the soldiers try to seize this ship and I cannot be the one to fight them off…horrible aim you know”

~

They had lingered too long. Why had they spent so much time on idle words when their first priority was to leave to escape? Their problems had made them blind to the danger that had been lurking. Had they been more careful, this all could have been prevented. Liam shook his head wildly, shutting out these thoughts as he looked after the sails. Afterwards, he sprinted up the stairs to the helm of the ship.

He glanced at the young man, who’d stumbled across the deck and up the stairs, and offered his services. Only now, after taking a close look, he noticed that he was still young, though not a boy anymore. Anyone, who had not noticed his cane and the vacant look in his eyes, could see by the way he’d stumbled across the deck that he was blind. And so, Liam was at a loss. What on earth could he ask of this man, who’d probably never seen a ship in his life and could not see it now? Wouldn't he only get in everyone’s way, giving more trouble than help? These thoughts, which had raced through his mind in seconds, vanished when he heard the determination in the lad’s voice and his impatience with regard to their hesitation. Liam glanced for a moment at Cairbre and then spoke: “At the far end of the ship, at the bow, you’ll find a man named Ciaran. Help him to raise the anchor, so that we can depart immediately.”

Liam then addressed Cairbre. “We’re almost good to go. I will go and join the others at the bow to ward off the Redcoats.” He lifted the pair of pistols that Guinevere had handed to him in the armoury. “When we survive this, Eagle, you must explain me what attracts you about this bloody island.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 30th, 2014, 2:46 pm 
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Liam’s words echoed in Cairbre’s mind, and he fought to keep control over the expression on his face. He wasn’t going to let anyone see how they had stung him. “Oh, I don’t think that I will explain to you,” he muttered to himself quietly, out of Liam’s earshot. Liam had every reason to hate England, and maybe Cairbre should have felt the same, but no matter what had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to. He had been born in this country. It was in his blood. It was with a wrench that he realized that he could never come back here again, that to set foot on English shores would mean certain death. Never again would he see the home which he and Guinevere had made together; never again would he see the pale English dawn, see the morning mist rolling out over the green lands.

He did his best to push these thoughts from his mind; they would not help him now. Once he was sure that the anchor had been raised, he caught hold of the ship’s wheel and with one sure, strong movement, span it in a clockwise motion. He tried, too, not to think about Rosalind, for letting himself wonder whether she would live or die would surely ruin his concentration. Guinevere had entrusted him with their safety, and there was no way in the world that he would let her down.

~~~

Bathsheba ran across the deck, her feet pounding against the wooden boards, looking wildly around to see where the captain had gone. She ended up tripping over her own feet as the ship swayed, and glanced over her shoulder at Cairbre as she righted her balance. She could not help but admire the strength and skill with which he managed the wheel. He had probably been a pirate a long time, she guessed, to be so sure of what he was doing. Knowing that she could not afford to waste any time, she rushed off to continue her search. Within a matter of minutes she stumbled across Guinevere, who was bent over the injured woman, pressing a blood stained piece of linen hard against the wound to try and slow down the flow.

“Captain,” Bathsheba gasped, collapsing down beside her onto the deck. She did not know Guinevere’s name, and so had nothing else to call her. “My friend… my friend says that you need to cauterise the wound, not stitch it.” She was gasping for breath, exhausted from running. Bathsheba was not very knowledgeable about medical matters, so had no idea what cauterisation meant.

Guinevere’s bright gaze flashed up at the blonde girl, and her voice, when it came, was a strange mix of briskness and desperation. “How in holy hell am I to do that?” she demanded. “I have no metal and no way to start a fire with which to heat it.” Guin was experienced in the procedure Tim recommended, but circumstance was not exactly on their side, as she clearly stated. And besides, it was still risky. Causing such tissue damage might actually increase the risk of infection. But it wasn’t as if she had much choice here. She could see that the severity of Rosa’s wound had gone way beyond the realms of stitching.

“Go and look below deck,” Guin ordered Bathsheba quickly. “Try and see if you can find me some metal and some kindling. As fast as you can!”

“Yes, of course,” Bathsheba agreed obediently and hauled herself back up to her feet, literally jumping to it. Sprinting down a set of stairs, her breathing was ragged. She just hoped that she would be able to help and do what the captain said. If she could not, then Bathsheba would be eternally ashamed.

~~~

Guinevere kept up the pressure on Rosa’s injury, but the bleeding would not let up. Rosa did not appear to be experiencing too much pain; she was near delirious, her eyes glittering feverishly. Her skin was drained of most of it’s colour, looking greyer almost by the second. Guin leaned over her, feeling utterly helpless. “Rosa?” she whispered. “Can you still hear me?”

A few moments passed before Rosa managed to croak out her reply. “Yes. Guin… Guin, I’m sorry. I’ve been so selfish. I’ve been so selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Guin asked her, reaching out and touching Rosa’s dark hair, which was strung with crusty streaks of newly dried blood. With a great deal of effort, Rosa smiled up at her and did not reply to her question. The ship was creaking and swaying as it began to move off, and gunfire could be heard in the distance.

“Don’t be sad,” Rosa said, beginning to wheeze. When she coughed, she coughed up a bit of blood. Guin winced and lowered her head down against Rosa’s brow so that she could be close to her, stroking her pale, ghost like face. It was so strange to know that, having previously believed her to be dead, Guin had already mourned Rosa’s loss. It was as if she had still already died. “I’ll be with my mother,” Rosa continued, rasping. “She said we would see each other again… j-just not yet… now we will.”

Guin gazed down at her, lost for words. There was nothing that she could say. Rosa seemed to understand, and reached up with shivering fingers to touch Guin’s shoulder. She looked past her friend’s head, up at the night sky, her eyes suddenly filling with a distant kind of light, almost like the light of recognition. And then, almost as soon as it had appeared, it disappeared, leaving the blue orbs empty.

“No. I will save you,” Guin finally managed to say firmly, before pulling back and seeing Rosalind’s face. She remained very still, staring down at her, before she let out a choked sob. Slowly, she reached out and closed Rosa’s eyelids. A tear trickled down one of Guin’s cheeks, marking it like rainwater on marble.

“Goodbye then, my dear,” she whispered, knowing that Rosa was at peace now. She stooped and kissed her forehead, which was still warm. “Goodbye.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: March 22nd, 2014, 11:03 am 
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[ I was not entirely satisfied with this post, but I didn't know how to improve it and since it has been a while since you posted, I thought I better post it now and spare you more waiting ;) ]


Tim had not slept a wink. He felt like being part of a story that was not his. He was fighting alongside pirates, but he was not one of them, nor was the enemy his enemy. The bullets skimmed past him, but he would not be hurt, death wandered among them, but it was not after him. It felt like a dream, but so real, that Tim could wake up any moment believing it to have been real. But he didn’t sleep and he didn’t wake. His pain in his arm was real, just like the taste of his own blood and the cries of despair below deck.

The death of the girl had immediately subdued the temporary relief of outrunning the soldiers in the harbour. Most of the others had gathered in that room below decks, but Tim had not dared to join them, as he felt like an intruder to their shared grief. The presence of Bathsheba and him had been tolerated, but would undoubtedly be discussed on a later moment.

So Tim had wandered around the ship and found a cabin to sleep –even though he had no idea what time of day it was- only to discover that he could not sleep at all. He was probably too sick to get a good bit of rest anyway. So he had spent the rest of his time until now on the front deck, slumped against the rail or hanging over it in alternating rounds. His arm was bound with a cloth he had found somewhere and on the whole Tim felt horrible. With each new wave of seas sickness Tim wondered what on earth had made him go aboard and how long it would take until he got used to the heaving of the waves. But eventually, the nausea passed and Tim’s eye lids were getting heavier and heavier. Until he sank in a deep sleep and entered the colourful world of dreams.

---

Close, that was what their escape had been. Due to the prepared state of the ship and their prompt actions, they had been quicker than the Redcoats. Soon, the merchant ship had been out of the reach of their bullets and they had a proper head start, even if the King’s men would decide to pursue them. By now the ship was on the open sea, quickly putting more and more distance between England and Ciaran.
This was also the moment that they had started to inspect their losses. The bullets that had been shot did no damage, at least not more than they’d already done. The girl had not made it. Her fiery eyes that had looked at him so furiously were now closed and her hands, that had left red marks on his neck were limb and lifeless.
Ciaran had become used to the presence of death and even found a way to deal with his conscious after all the deaths he caused. But this one somehow felt differently. He had therefore left the room below deck, of which the confined space seemed to suffocate him, to get some air. On his way, he ran into the blind lad, who wandered around the ship with bloodied hands, trembling.

“You’re lucky. It’s only a graze,” Ciaran had said after examining the arm. After which the lad had said something of usually being lucky during target practice.

Ciaran considered himself lucky as well. All in all he alone could never have achieved this. He had tried buying people off to get his papers, falsifying them, but it never worked. Without the papers, he could go nowhere. But now… loosing the Redcoats had been tricky. But now they were as free as birds. There were no boundaries, with only the horizon as their destination.

------

Liam knew he would never forget the look on Guinevere’s face. She did not have to tell what had transpired. The grief and sadness on her face told him what he needed to know. He wrapped his arms around Guin and just held her in silence.
For himself it was hard to make out what he felt after loosing Rosalind. He had not lost a friend, not a loved one, not even an acquaintance. Rosalind had always made perfectly clear what he was and what he was not. And he was not one of them. He was not part of their family. Remarkably, the passing of Rosalind made him think of his own sister a lot. How dear she was to him and how he missed her. And with those feelings for Ailleen in mind, Liam tried to comfort Guinevere.

Hours passed and Liam knew by the position of the sun that was past noon. He had given Ciaran Archer instructions to take over the wheel. He only needed to follow the exact same bearing due west as they did now. Anyone could do it, but still Liam felt uncomfortable giving this responsibility to this man, who still had not completely earned their trust. But since the other possible candidate could not see, Liam decided he would try to trust this man in black.
Cairbre and Guinevere were still with Rosalind when Liam joined them. There was an uneasy silence as he stood next to them until

Liam finally asked both of them. “What do you want to do?”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: March 29th, 2014, 5:08 pm 
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Cairbre stared down at Rosalind’s lifeless body, unable to say a word. She was arranged on a small narrow bed, the wound on her neck obscured by several thick layers of bandage. The expression on her pale features was peaceful, almost as if she was sleeping. Rosalind had met her death with acceptance; Guinevere could testify to that, having witnessed her passing. Cairbre himself knew that Rosalind’s last months of life had altered her, driven her past a point of no return. It hurt him to know that his sister had welcomed death as a release, that in her dying moments she had not expressed a wish to carry on living.

Guin was sitting on the edge of the bed beside Rosalind, her hand resting on Cairbre’s shoulder. “Cairbre?” she said very quietly. His head was bent and his shoulders sagged; tracks of dried tears marked his face, and his eyes carried the heavy weight of exhaustion and grief. Alerted by the sound of Guin’s voice, he slowly turned to look at her. He had been here for hours, sitting by his sister’s body. Guin had been here in the room with him on and off, taking time away to put the ship into order, and then coming back again.

“I can’t… find anything to say.” That was all Cairbre managed to utter, his voice tired and low. Understanding shone in Guin’s blue eyes, and she nodded, wishing that there was some way she could lessen Cairbre’s pain.

“It’s alright,” she assured him. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Looking up at Guin, Cairbre noticed that she had found time to have a wash and find new clothes. Her black silk gown, which had been battered by travel and stiffened with sea salt, had been replaced by a simple cream dress paired with a green suede waistcoat. Her clean red hair was still slightly damp, and twisted back from her face. Her gaze was sad, but she wasn’t in the state of inconsolable grief that Cairbre was. She looked as if she was in control again.

“You should eat,” Guin said after a few moments’ pause, squeezing Cairbre’s shoulder gently. “And you need to drink something too. Cairbre… you’ll have to come away from here, soon.”

It was at that moment that the door opened and Liam came into the room, and asked a question which Guin had feared to bring up herself. Slowly, Guin rose up from the bed and met Liam’s gaze with a worried look. She knew what had to be done, but was apprehensive as to how Cairbre might react. “We must lay Rosa to rest, before long,” she said carefully, glancing at Cairbre, who remained silent. “She should be buried at sea. It’s what she would have wanted.”

There was a painful pause, before Guin felt Cairbre’s hand on her knee, clasping her skirt. Startled, Guin looked down at him. The grief etched onto Cairbre’s features was so plain to see, so helpless… but she couldn’t give him the comfort he needed. A small silence reigned before Cairbre seemed to remember the new state of affairs between himself and Guin, and he let go. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

He pushed himself up to his feet. From her lesser height, Guin watched tentatively as Cairbre masked his expression. “You’re right,” he said eventually, managing to keep his voice steady. “Rosalind never liked the thought of being underground. But… wait a while. I can’t bear to think of it, right this moment.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, and looked from Liam to Guin.

~~~

They all left the dark confines of the room, Cairbre going one way across the deck, and Guin staying at Liam’s side. She closed the door behind them quietly, and inhaled the fresh salty air which came from the top deck. It was still so good just to be near the sea again. It felt completely natural to be back on the open ocean, to feel the ship gently sway to and fro beneath her feet. Land was far behind, and all that lay ahead of them were waves. The sense of freedom was exhilarating beyond description. Just knowing that their destination was within their grasp gave Guin a rush. She yearned for the shores of Jamaica, to feel the Caribbean sun beat down upon her skin.

Guin did not feel guilty in letting herself think ahead to the future. God knew that she had already mourned Rosalind a thousand times over, having believed her lost to the redcoats’ bullets at that bridge. The heavy, cold fog of unbearable grief was not something that Guin could revisit so soon. She had reclaimed life, and could not turn her back on it again.

She looked up at Liam, feeling oddly shy around him. It had been so long since they had last been alone together like this, left to their own devices without disturbance. Knowing that they would not be disturbed or torn apart now made Guin’s heart flutter at a fast pace. “Perhaps this evening, then, we shall lay Rosa to rest,” she said quietly. “We should give Cairbre some time… he isn’t ready yet to let his sister go to God.” That was something she understood. Rosa’s burial at sea would seal the finality of her death, and Cairbre undoubtedly found that overwhelming.

Slowly, she reached out and took Liam’s hand in hers, hoping that he would not pull away. “Fate has still been kind,” she said. “Even with this loss… life continues in spite of it. We are free. So many times these past few days, I thought that all might be lost. Danger and death has hunted us mercilessly.” She searched Liam’s dark eyes with her own, her heart swelling with love for him, and longing to step into his arms. “But I’m not afraid. Not now. I will never give way to fear again. And no bars or chains shall restrain us a single time more.”

~~~

Bathsheba wandered across the deck, feeling more than a little lost. She found this new environment utterly alien and unfamiliar, which put her at a severe disadvantage. But even so, she found the whole experience stimulating. Everything was new; even though she felt wretched, there was no chance of becoming bored. She was trying to shake off the guilt she felt at not having been able to help the injured girl, who was now dead. Bathsheba knew that there was nothing she could have done to prevent what happened; the wound had just been too deep. Yet she had so wanted to be useful, to earn the trust and gratitude of the captain.

Spotting Tim, she headed in his direction, not bothering about the fact that he was with the bounty hunter Ciaran. “Tim!” she called over to him, so that she could alert him before she arrived at his side. “You look dead on your feet, did you not sleep at all?” Bathsheba had managed to steal a few hours of sleep last night; not that it had proved very refreshing. There were dark circles under her eyes, a testament to her restless slumber.

She slid her arm through Tim’s, providing him with the familiarity of her presence and support. Being on this ship was strange for both of them, but it was surely far stranger for Tim, who could not see his surroundings. Bathsheba glanced at Ciaran, her nerves showing on her face. “Have you been left in charge?” she asked him hesitantly. “I haven’t seen the captain or that tall man around for quite a while. Is there anything we can do?” Bathsheba knew next to nothing about how a ship was run, but she still wanted herself and Tim to be seen as useful.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: May 24th, 2014, 7:16 am 
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[ So here's my post for Ciaran and Tim. It was kind of hard to write since both characters are interacting and I didn't want to write to separate posts for them. So the flow is not perfect.. :P ]



Mornings were not Tim’s favourite part of the day. Or rather, it was the waking up part that he loathed. It was not because he dreaded to get about with a day’s job or because he longed for more sleep; it was because in his dreams he could in fact see again, but every morning he was once more confronted with the darkness of his world. This day was no exception. However, this morning Tim also woke up, realizing that he was on a ship in the middle of the ocean and that something, which appeared to be a boot, was nudging him in the ribs. Tim got to his feet with a jolt, blindly groping around him, until he heard Ciaran’s voice: “Easy lad, I was just testing if you were dead. It seems to be a common denominator around here.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Tim questioned indignantly, while he searched for the rail to find his balance. “Waking up a blind guy could be lethal.” When he only heard Ciaran snickering, Tim turned to face the ocean. He had to admit that the sound of the waves was soothing, but mostly it still made him feel seasick. As he enjoyed the quietness on the ship, that was so different compared to the busy harbour, he also fully realised that he had left England, the place that had been his home, behind for good. And his family who had been lost to him for so long, were now lost forever…

Ciaran’s voice seemed to come from far away when Tim heard him say: “You better thank me for waking you. That red-haired lass, who seems to be the Captain is patrolling at the bow.” Ciaran glanced at the far side of the ship, where Liam and Guinevere were standing. It had been hours since he had last seen them. Liam had left him with the instructions to keep a bearing of west, south-west, which he had followed. None of the pirates had mentioned the destination, but Ciaran could guess it. The British accent of the three pirates; the appearance of the fourth one. They were probably heading towards the British colony, where piracy flourished: the Caribbean.

It was a place where adventurers went or those without choice. Those with fortune or in service of the East India Company usually perceived it as an demotion to be placed there, as they could not tolerate the heat and had to deal with these fortune seekers and pirates.

Ciaran looked up when the blond girl approached them. “Your girlfriend is here as well,” Ciaran said with a crooked grin to Tim.
“She is not my girlfriend,” Tim immediately retorted, but his usually blank eyes lightened up at the sound of her voice and as he felt her link her arm through his.

You look dead on your feet, did you not sleep at all?

“I have felt better,” Tim smiled in response to her question. “But I am alright now. I have been looking for you yesterday. I was afraid that you had lost your way. I myself am still exploring how big this ship actually is.”

Ciaran felt the prying eyes of Bathsheba on him, before she actually questioned him and rolled his eyes. How ironical that the stowaway on this ship dared to ask him if he had permission to be at the wheel. But Ciaran was surprised that it was Tim, who came to his defense and gave Bathsheba an answer: “Don’t worry. He knows what he is doing. The others having been saying goodbye to their friend. Mr. Archer has been here the entire night.”

Tim wasn’t sure why he trusted the man behind the wheel, who hardly anything more than a stranger to him. Perhaps it was because he had helped him in his own strange way. Or because he treated him like everyone else.

Upon hearing Bathsheba’s second question, Ciaran started to laugh. He took his flask from his belt and took a gulp. “Love, perhaps you didn’t notice but this is my first ship hijack as well. Although I have many areas of expertise, sailing a ship is not one of them.” Ciaran looked at Bathsheba for a moment before he continued: “But if you want to help, you might ask that tall, dark-haired man..”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: May 26th, 2014, 1:51 pm 
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Bathsheba looked from Tim to Ciaran, wishing that she had a better understanding of what on earth was happening on board this ship. She knew only that Guinevere was the captain; as far as anything else went, Bathsheba was clueless. It was bizarre enough to have a female captain. Bathsheba had never heard of such a thing. Not that she was objecting; on the contrary, she admired Guinevere’s spirit and independence. Bathsheba glanced towards the woman herself, who was standing at the far side of the ship with one of the men. As for the other man who seemed to be of Guinevere’s acquaintance, the tall one - he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“But if you want to help, you might ask that tall, dark-haired man..”

Bathsheba turned her head towards Ciaran so quickly that her neck clicked. An uncharacteristic blush appeared on her cheeks. “What nonsense,” she snapped, not liking the tone in Ciaran’s voice. He definitely seemed to be making fun of her, and Bathsheba always hated being mocked. It made her feel small. One thing she knew for certain, she most certainly would not be approaching Cairbre. The little she had seen of him, he looked like a very unhappy person. Bathsheba was sure that she would accidentally say something wrong and make herself look foolish.

“Me and Tim, we don’t know these people,” Bathsheba leapt to her own rescue, her arm still linked through Tim’s. She always felt better when she was at his side, more secure somehow. He made her feel needed. And although she didn’t realize it, in her own way Bathsheba needed Tim back. “I don’t know if we’ll even be allowed to stay. You, though,” she added, managing to look Ciaran in the eye, “I’m surprised they’re letting you stay on this ship. After all, we saw you. I mean, I saw you - bringing the captain and her friend in chains to the town prison. Did you make some kind of a deal with them?” She knew she was being pushy and not making herself very likable, but Bathsheba couldn’t really help it. If Ciaran was going to play snide with her, she would reply in the same vein. "I wouldn't feel very safe at the moment if I were in your shoes. Let's just hope that the captain doesn't hold grudges."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 9th, 2014, 5:28 pm 
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Ciaran laughed out loud upon hearing Bathsheba’s words. They were daring, but also entertaining.
Ciaran was not worried. He was here to keep Guinevere and Liam to their end of the bargain and if what he suspected was right, he would perhaps soon arrive at the place he had longed to go for so long.

The bounty hunter looked closely at the duo in front of him. In every way they seemed like an odd couple. They were obviously not related. The girl had blond, long locks and blue eyes, while the lad was dark-haired and had dark eyes. Her skin was fair and her entire appearance was refined. The way she moved and her tone of voice gave away that she had enjoyed a fine upbringing and that her family possessed fortune if not status. The lad, on the other hand, clearly had the appearance of a harbour labourer. Strong but skinny, as he probably never had a decent meal in his life. He was blind, obviously, but Ciaran suspected that the loss of vision occurred later in life.

“Don’t break your pretty little head about things you do not know anything about, sweet heart,” Ciaran retorted with a grin. “Why don’t you leave that to the people who know how the big bad world works? Some caution might be wise at this point." Ciaran put his flask away again. "Or you will get in over your head without anything to bargain with.”
He tilted his head and let his gaze go over Bathsheba, from head to toe, and smiled. “Well, almost nothing to bargain with.”

-----------------------------

Tim listened to the discussion between Bathsheba and Ciaran with furrowed brows and increasing irritation. When he finally had enough, he pulled his arm away from Bathsheba and took a few steps back. “What are you doing?” he asked her. His usual friendly tone was now reproachful and incomprehension was written over his face. Since Ciaran and Bathsheba both fell silent, he assumed that they were both looking at him. “The only reason we are here is because they allow us to stay. All of them. Picking fights will not make them like us or grant us any hospitality..” Tim’s voice trailed away. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past day, he thought of the stupidity and recklessness of what first had seemed an adventurous plan.

A new life, a friendlier world than he was used to, that would be the destination he dreamed of. But now they were left at the mercy of this group. These pirates, who had taken up arms to kill and plunder.

Tim could not read Bathsheba’s face so it was hard for him to imagine what she was thinking. At these moments he missed his ability to see. Then he would have an inkling of what she was thinking. “We have to be careful,” Tim continued, this time more quietly. “I don’t want to starve a lonely death in a rowing boat on the open sea, like that poor b ugger who was the captain of this ship. Then I would have stayed where I was, homeless but alive..”

And with these words Tim turned around and walked away with his heart full of fear that he had made the wrong decision, that changed his life forever.

-------

Liam nodded his head when Guinevere spoke of Cairbre. Even though he did not let it show, he was still processing Cairbre Eagle’s sudden resurrection. They had shaken hands, he tried small talk and even defended him. But Liam knew that it didn’t matter. Despite everything that had happened, their escape, the pursuit and even death, Cairbre still treated him with the same cold civility as usual.
True, the man had lost his sister and his fiancée. But so did he. When Liam had come to their door months ago, desperate after losing the love of his life and his sister, they turned him aside. And no wonder.. It had been the eve before their wedding. A day before they were to promise their eternal love and trust to each other and God.

Liam knew that Guinevere’s love for Cairbre was stronger than her love for him. And even if Guinevere didn’t know it herself yet, Liam knew deep in his heart that she would reject him a third time. Maybe not now or in three weeks, but eventually Guin would realise the depth of her attachment to Cairbre. Therefore, Liam didn’t pull his hand away when Guinevere took it in hers.
He was going to cherish the moments he still had her and make these moments count.

“Well, let me start with reducing this distance between us then,” Liam smiled as he pulled Guinevere closer to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. He rested his head on her shoulder and stood there for a while.
“I do not dare to rely on fate just yet,” he said. “Not until I stand with both feet on solid Caribbean ground.”

Liam closed his eyes and inhaled the salty air. He captured this moment in his mind, so that he would not forget.

“It feels strange not having to look over my shoulder at all times or to feel afraid,” he said quietly. “It seems almost as if we don’t deserve to be happy.”

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Children, rejoice, rejoice..

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 9th, 2014, 6:50 pm 
Maia
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(I hope you don't mind me replying so quickly, dear! I was very inspired and wanted to write my post up straight away ;) )

Bathsheba’s entire face flooded with heat as she took in Ciaran’s taunting words, her skin turning a bright, angry shade of red. Her lips were parted as if she was ready to make a retort, but no sound came out of them. It was on very rare occasions that she was left utterly speechless. In that moment, she decided that she hated Ciaran. But the situation only got worse when Tim pulled his arm away from her and turned on her, quite suddenly. She stared at him as he reproached her, her eyes filling with a deep sense of betrayal.

“You couldn’t have stayed where you were!” she called after him abruptly as he began to walk away from her. “Neither of us could! Did you truly want to remain homeless forever?” Bathsheba bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself talking and glanced over at Ciaran with a glare. Without another word, she flounced past him; it was clear that she believed a very great injustice had been done to her. Yet despite her anger, she felt a terrible empty feeling in her heart. She and Tim had been by each other’s side for so long that it felt unspeakably strange for them to be apart for any amount of time. This was all Ciaran's fault. How had he managed to get Tim to trust him? Bathsheba couldn't help feeling jealous. She was used to being Tim's only friend. Any hint of a rival to that bond was bound to put her nose out of joint, as it was now.

~~~

Guinevere’s face lit up with happiness when Liam pulled her into his arms and reflected his smile back up at him. She let go a sigh of relief to be this close to him again, tucking her chin over his shoulder. “That’s better,” she replied, shutting her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing that he could see her face as it was now, etched with a deep longing. She ran her hands gently over his back, taking in his presence and inhaling his sea salty scent. Guinevere was well aware that Liam doubted her, and that knowledge hurt her. Liam didn’t believe that he had a chance against Cairbre in the long run.

“I miss the Caribbean,” she said softly, and suddenly something caught in her throat as she felt a strong pang of emotion. “I’ve missed you.” It was difficult to know how to put her feelings into words. She wanted to prove herself to Liam, to prove to him that her love for him was far stronger than he thought. As yet, she didn’t know how to make him see that she would not leave him again. The idea of being away from Liam again pierced her like a knife.

Breathing in deeply, Guinevere raised her head so that she could look up at him. “Of course we deserve to be happy,” she said. She believed that most sincerely. “Don’t doubt that for a second. This is a new beginning. I know… I know the situation at the moment is difficult. But I want us to be able to talk about it. I’ve been so terrible at talking about things in the past. But that’s going to change." She paused and looked over her shoulder, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on them. This was a private conversation. She looked back at him with a hopeful smile. "How about we go sit in the captain’s cabin so we can have a bit more privacy?”

~~~

Bathsheba charged down the steps leading below deck, her mind clouded by fury. She was hardly looking where she was going. A shrill yelp escaped from her throat when she suddenly tripped over a shape sitting on the stairs. Her heart pounding, she caught hold of the rope railing just in time to stop herself toppling down the steps. It took her a few moments to realize who she had just accidentally kicked in the back.

“Dear goodness, I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, watching Cairbre’s face for any sign of annoyance or anger. Instead, she saw nothing at all in his expression; the best way to describe it would be numb.

“Don’t bother,” he said quietly, getting to his feet. “I was just about to leave anyway.” He walked past her on the stairs, hardly seeming to notice her at all. He hadn’t even glanced in her direction. Bathsheba watched him go and then took his seat on the stairs, resting her face in her hands. Today was going from bad to worse. She hoped that she’d be able to repair things with Tim. If she didn’t, and this new rift in their friendship remained, then she would be truly lost.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 25th, 2014, 5:22 pm 
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[Here's my post for Tim. :happy: ]

Bathsheba’s words were still ringing in his ears as he walked to the-, Tim did not know where he was headed. He found a doorway, kicked it open and immediately fell down the eight steps that his cane had missed. His head and arm hurt, but Tim hardly felt it because of the anger running through his veins. Anger at the world and in particularly his own helplessness.
He pushed himself in a sitting position and kicked the wooden stairs, while crying out in frustration. That his fall had been caused because he had been blinded by anger, Tim did not realise.

He closed his eyes and listened how his own ragged breathing became calmer. As he calmed down, Tim felt more in control again. Rational thoughts, which had kept him going for so long, now subdued his anger.
There was no use in being angry, this rational voice whispered in his ear. It didn't change anything. This was the situation he had to live with, whether he liked it or not. He could deal with it, like he always had, or die.

Slowly, Tim’s hands touched the floor, searching for his cane and when he had found it, he got up. He continued his way down, what to Tim seemed to be a maze, below deck. He did not know where he was looking for. It was just a way for him to familiarize himself with the ship. There was a door and again a few steps and then Tim stood in the ship’s hold. The fresh scent of oranges and a hint of spices made Tim realise where he was: the supply cabin.

He didn't need his sight to distinguish which delights had been loaded on board by the former Captain. The strong smell of cheese; the round shapes of dried peas and dry flakes of oatmeal in barrels. More barrels with salted meat and fish and beer; crates with biscuits.

This abundance of food was too much for Tim, who had been hungry for practically his entire life. His mouth watered and the overwhelming smells made him forget that it was not his food to take. His hand fell upon a crate with fruit, that was sticky and larger than grapes. Tim could only describe the taste as sweet and exotic and he could not remember tasting anything as delicious.

He was so distracted by this mysterious type of fruit that Tim did not hear someone coming. The door opened and Tim looked up. Someone was standing in the doorway, watching him in silence.

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Children, rejoice, rejoice..

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 5th, 2014, 1:41 pm 
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Having heard a crashing noise below deck, Cairbre had gone to see what was going on. If he was honest he only went to look as an excuse not to have to go back up to top deck. He didn't want to see Liam and Guin together; the pain was just too great. He walked and walked, trying to focus on his footsteps instead of his thoughts, but it didn't work. His mind was a rush of emotions, even though the expression on his face looked numb. Reaching the ship's hold, he could hear someone just around the corner, in the cabin where the supplies were kept. Cairbre really didn't care if someone was taking food. He hardly knew what to say when the blind lad looked up, sensing his presence. He wasn't about to snap at Tim or tell him off. Besides, the boy looked half starved and desperate for a good meal. It was strange for Cairbre to remember that he himself hadn't eaten anything for quite a long time; he'd been given one scrap of stale bread whilst in prison - and he'd given it to Rosalind instead, who had needed it more.

"It's alright," Cairbre said, suddenly feeling so tired that he sat himself down by the doorway, running a hand over his eyes. He felt utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically. Countless times, he wished that he could have his old life back; he wished that he could travel back in time to several months ago, when he and Guin had been preparing for their wedding. Glad that Tim couldn't see him, he rested his brow against his arm, choking back frustrated tears. After a few moments, he wiped at his eyes and clenched his jaw.

"What's your name?" he asked Tim, relieved that his voice sounded relatively normal and didn't wobble. His exhaustion was evident though. It was useless to hope that speaking to Tim might take his mind off his problems, so Cairbre didn't hope. He did need to talk to someone though, to at least pretend that he wasn't in the greatest agony. "I suppose that this is your first time at sea," he continued. "It is strange at first, but you'll get used to it." He remembered all too well the first time he himself had gone to sea, with Rosalind and Guin. It hurt so much to remember the past.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 18th, 2014, 7:18 pm 
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[ I'm not entirely satisfied with this post, but I didn't know how to improve it, so here it is anyway! ;-) ]


Tim silently faced the door. Someone had entered and closed the door, but remained silent. Tim felt increasingly uncomfortable being watched. He could deduce from the heavy breathing that the person opposite of him was a man. Only when the man spoke, he recognized him as the brother of the girl, who had passed away. Tim visibly relaxed when he was not reprimanded for being there, let alone taking some of the food. Instead the man’s words were words of kindness, intended to put him at ease, even though an intense sorrow was audible in his voice.

Tim sat down on one of the closed crates, tossing his cane from his left to his right hand. His relief slowly changed to embarrassment as the man spoke. Not the kind of embarrassment that he had felt when he had stolen food for the first time or slept on the street. He felt as if he had trespassed into this man’s house, taken the food from his plate and watched him grief.
“My name is Timothy, but everyone calls me Tim,” he said. “And yes, this is the first time, I ever left my home town.” A sadness, which he could not suppress, was audible in his tone.

There was a short silence, after which Tim suddenly blurted out: “I'm really sorry for sneaking onto your ship. You must think us to be lowlifes or intruders. But I can assure you that we are neither of these things.”

He had just been desperate to find out if there was more to the world than hardship and starvation. Bathsheba’s goal was probably a bit more ambitious: to find adventure and freedom; all those things a young privileged woman did not have.
Tim looked in the direction of his companion, who according Ciaran had to be tall and dark-haired. But there was something more about this comment and the way Bathsheba reacted, Tim couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“I am sorry about your sister,” Tim continued. “I wish I could tell you that the pain will fade, but it doesn't. At first, it will only get worse. But eventually the pain will become easier to bear.”


--------


Liam smiled upon hearing Guinevere’s words. If she only knew how much he had longed to hear them. From the moment Guinevere and Cairbre had been together until the night that he had knocked on their door in Devonshire, he had hoped that she would change her mind. But now she had, it just felt not right.

He took a step back and took Guin’s hand as he thought for a moment about her proposal. It was tempting, but then he shook his head, realising that this was not the time, nor the place to discuss their issues. Even though they had a head start on the Royal Navy, they still had to sail the ship across the open ocean with only three –perhaps four crew members-, while avoiding the common trade routes. And that was still the least of their worries.

“Guin, this is not the moment. I think other matters deserve our attention now. Rosalind’s funeral..” he said softly. “You and Cairbre should decide how you want to say goodbye. We should make arrangements with our good friend, Mr. Archer and I believe we have two stowaways..”

Liam tried to catch Guinevere’s gaze, as he probably only said things she did not want to hear. Unknowingly to what she was thinking, Liam continued: “You are the captain and I know you can do this. And I wish that we could do it together, but I meant what I said to you before.” He pressed a light kiss on her hands before letting go. “Take some time and space to think before you make your choices.”

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..

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It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.


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