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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 18th, 2014, 9:18 pm 
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(I hope you don't mind me replying so quickly!)

Cairbre looked up as Tim introduced himself and nodded in reply; he was so tired that for a moment he forgot that the lad couldn't see him. He reproached himself for his forgetfulness and spoke up so that Tim wouldn't think that he was ignoring him. "It's nice to meet you, Tim. My name's Cairbre," he said. It took so much effort just to piece a few words together. He felt almost as if his head was about to explode. He longed to find some peace; perhaps that was the reason he had walked down so far below deck in the first place. But he knew that whatever his wishes, there could be no peace for him. However, despite his own misery, he was aware of the sadness in Tim's words as he spoke of leaving home for the first time. Cairbre couldn't help remembering the time all those years ago, when he himself had left home forever, fleeing in the night with his sister from the Eagle family seat.

Tim was making an apology now, sounding keen for Cairbre not to form the wrong impression of him. Cairbre frowned and instantly brushed this apology away. "Don't say sorry to me," he said exhaustedly. "This isn't my ship. And you don't have to justify yourself or your actions. Sometimes... things just happen. Things you never expected. God knows, when I was around your age, I never imagined the turn my life would take." He fell silent. Indeed, who could have predicted his fate, back when he had been the son of a lord? Cairbre didn't regret his choice to become a pirate. But he regretted many other things. He should never have allowed Rosalind to turn to a piratical way of life too. If he had refused to let her join him back then, she might still be alive today.

Tim's words about Rosalind told Cairbre nothing new. Cairbre had struggled with loss before. His and Rosalind's mother had fallen prey to a fever in their teenage years. It had been left to Cairbre to stay strong despite the pain he felt, having to shoulder the duty of keeping Rosalind from falling apart. Perhaps the root of all Rosalind's problems could be traced back to that fateful day their mother had slipped away into the next world. Rosalind had never been the same afterwards; she had always been bold and reckless, but she grew more so, prone to taking ridiculous risks, as if she didn't care what happened to her.

"Thank you," Cairbre replied eventually. He gradually got to his feet and leaned against a wall, regaining his balance. Perhaps he should eat something. After all, if this ship was ever to reach it's destination, it needed to be manned by a crew who were more than half alive. And yet, the thought of trying to get a morsel of food past his lips sickened him. "That's very kind of you. But come, perhaps we should head back to top deck. If you're to live aboard a ship, you'd better start learning the ropes. Also, I don't entirely trust that fellow who's been left at the wheel."

~~~

The smile fell away from Guinevere's face as she took in what Liam had to say. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as he stepped back from her; he had hold of her hand, but the physical distance he placed between them made her feel as if he was abandoning her. Only a few moments ago he had taken her into his arms and spoken warm words to her. She tried to fight back her feeling of anger and frustration; she knew that now probably wasn't the right time for them to have a good long talk. She had to organize matters aboard the ship, and try and make a strong crew from this group of runaways. She had to find some way to arrange Rosalind's funeral with Cairbre, which would be an incredibly difficult thing for them both. All of this Guinevere knew, but she couldn't help it. She still despaired at Liam's words.

She looked down at her feet, trying to hide what she felt. She felt Liam's kiss on her hands, and then he let her go. "The captain," she repeated, her voice sounding strange as she bit back tears. When she looked up, her blue eyes were swimming with emotion. She fought hard to keep her expression under control. She didn't want Liam to see just how much she was hurting. "What does that even mean? And do I even deserve such a title?" She shrugged her shoulders and plastered an unconvincing smile across her lips. She wanted to act as if she was fine, but it wasn't working. Giving up on trying to hide her feelings, she decided to tell Liam what was in her heart instead.

"I'll take some time and some space if that's what you think is right," she said, her words coming out slowly. Her voice wobbled slightly, but she soon regained control of it, her confidence bolstered by truth. She looked up at Liam without flinching away, her gaze very steady. "But I want you to know this. I meant it when I said that I always loved you. I meant it with all my heart. From the first moment we met, I felt that you knew me and I knew you. But I was afraid back then, Liam. Not just because I loved Cairbre too, and God knows it would frighten any woman to love two men. I was afraid of letting you in, of letting you know... of being vulnerable. So I was cowardly. I pushed you away." She took a deep breath and pushed a few strands of hair away from her face. She saw, too, that now she was pushing Cairbre away in a manner quite similar, instinctively blaming him for making her believe he was dead. Guinevere had never hated herself more, for how complicated and painful her life had become, and for the pain she, without meaning to, had inflicted on people in her efforts to escape acknowledgement of pain, love and grief. Why did she have to love them both so much? And when would Liam ever believe that she did in fact love him, that her feelings were true? "I only hope you can forgive me for that one day. But I'll do as you say, and take some time, and wait. If that's what it takes, then so be it." She might have said more, but she decided to leave it at that, slowly turning away from Liam and setting her shoulders in her usual determined stance. It took no small amount of strength to turn away and make herself become the captain once more.

She walked along towards the main deck and headed in the direction of the helm, where she would find Ciaran Archer. Organization had to start now, if they were ever to make it to the shores of the Caribbean.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: August 6th, 2014, 5:23 pm 
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Tim leapt to his feet when Cairbre suggested to return to the upper deck. The idea that this man, who was nothing more than a stranger to him, offered him to help and teach him was met by incredulity and gratitude from Tim's side. To be able to pursue a profession and to be employed meant a difference between not being hungry or searching for leftovers from other people’s garbage; a difference between finding a place to sleep and sleeping on the streets; a difference between life and death.

To learn a craft was a privilege, only in store for a lucky few in harbour area, so Tim’s attempts to find anyone willing to teach him had been futile. The very few, simple jobs that he had acquired had ended in disaster. The fact that this man was willing to teach him was either because they were in desperate need for any help or because he placed great confidence in Tim.

Either way, Tim was not to let such a possibility slide. He walked over to Cairbre and offered his hand for a handshake. Only hours ago, he had thought these people to be criminals and he had not been inclined to trust them. But their close escape and Rosalind’s death seemed to have caused a breach between these different worlds where everyone came from and formed a sort of mutual acceptance and even trust.

“You won’t be sorry, Cairbre. I am your man,” Tim smiled. “But I think it would be better if you’ll lead the way upstairs.”


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


As Guinevere spoke, Liam saw the pain on her face, he noticed her watery eyes and he heard the quiver in her voice and he realised how much pain he caused her. But however guilty he felt to be cause of her pain, he was still convinced of the validity of his request for Guin to take time and think about her decision to cast aside the man, whom not long ago, she would marry.

He watched her walk away, like he had done months ago, moments after she had told him it had been better if they had never met. His heart had been broken and glued together too many times and he knew that he would not survive losing her again.

“Guinevere!” Liam called out and he quickly followed her footsteps. Her red hair danced in the wind as she turned around to face him. Liam looked at her for a moment and had to restrain himself from stepping forward, taking her into his arms and kiss her there and then. That would not help matters at all now.

“Don’t be cross with me, Guin” he said instead. “I only said this because I care about you.” He waited for a moment to see if a smile appeared on her face.
“And because you’re irresistible when you’re mad of course,” Liam added with a grin.

His eye then fell on Ciaran Archer who was still occupied at the wheel and his grin faded for a bit.
“For what it’s worth, I do not think that there’s reason to distrust him now.” He nodded in the direction of Archer. “I think it might altogether be good if we had a talk with him, but also with all the others. A speech from the captain get everyone on the same page.”

They had to face it: if they ever wanted to get near the Caribbean shore than they would have to set aside all rivalries and grudges and start to trust one another.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: August 7th, 2014, 4:42 pm 
Maia
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Cairbre found a faint smile forming on his features as Tim reached out his hand; he shook it, finding the young man's eagerness to learn quite touching. "First things first, you must get used to living aboard a ship. Finding your sea legs is often the trickiest part," he said. "Rome wasn't built in a day, but I'll do my best to help you." He led the way through the complicated warren of doors and steps, making sure that Tim didn't bump into anything along the way as the ship creaked and swayed. Cairbre demonstrated great tact and understanding, describing everything to Tim as they went along. It didn't take them too long to reach the steps leading up into top deck. "There's a rope there for you to hold onto as you go up," Cairbre informed Tim.

In a way, it helped Cairbre to help Tim. It didn't take his mind off his misery - nothing could do that - but at the very least it gave Cairbre a sense of purpose. If this crew of runaways was ever to make it safely to the Caribbean, they needed order. They had to work together. For now, Cairbre would force himself to concentrate on this task. He had no idea what he would actually do once they reached that far away shore. It was a question that he didn't want to ask himself. All he knew was that Guinevere would scarcely look him in the eye, and that hurt beyond any description. The thought that she might be considering a life in which he had no part tore him to pieces. He was only just managing to hold himself together; he had no other choice. He had to exist in this limbo like state, completely unsure of what was going to happen, with no idea of what his future might be.

Stepping out onto top deck, he breathed in the salty air and wondered if God had utterly forsaken him. He was lucky to be alive, but at what cost? What life was there for him now?

~~~

Bathsheba watched from the shadows, keeping herself well hidden, as Cairbre and Tim went up the steps. She had heard them approaching, and had only just managed to dodge back to hide herself. The last thing she wanted was to bump into either of them. She was ashamed of the things she had said to Tim, and the way she had acted. She only hoped that he could forgive her. As for Cairbre, she found herself a little scared of this man, for reasons she wasn't quite sure of. Colliding with him on the stairs before had been a nerve shattering experience. Above everything, Bathsheba was afraid of appearing stupid and foolish, but where this complete stranger was concerned, this fear was taken to a whole new level.

When she was quite sure that Cairbre and Tim were gone, Bathsheba crept out of her hiding place and went slowly up the stairs. It was about time that she showed her face and tried to make herself useful. She was sure that if she could not make herself appear helpful, then they would shove her off the ship at the nearest port. It seemed that Tim had been able to strike up a camaraderie with Cairbre, but Bathsheba didn't really possess the talent of making friends. Her undeserved sense of self importance had made her a lot of enemies in the past.

~~~

Guinevere turned around as she heard Liam calling her name, her heart leaping with hope. She looked at him and knew in a moment that he was having to hold himself back from going forward and taking her into his arms. The urge to go to Liam was strong within Guin too, but like him, she made herself stand still, and waited to hear what it was he had to say. A smile slowly appeared on her lips, and a familiar mischievous glint appeared in her blue eyes. There were so many things that she wanted to say, but there would be time enough to say them at another time. For now she just nodded, showing Liam that she understood.

She followed Liam's gaze towards Ciaran, and weighed over his words. Could they really trust this Archer? And would he still demand a price for his assistance in their escape? Guin had previously promised the man gold in payment, but somehow she got the feeling that he wasn't going to call in that debt. Ciaran had seemed as keen to get out of England as they had. Perhaps they had been of as much assistance to him as he had to them.

"We'll gather everyone round," Guin agreed eventually. "Although I don't know if I can manage to make as good a speech as is required." She led the way towards the wheel, where Ciaran was on duty. It was then that she noticed that the three other crew members had gathered around: Cairbre with Tim by his side, and Bathsheba trailing behind them with a strained sort of expression on her face. Guinevere waited a moment before clearing her throat, indicating them all to come closer.

"Well, I think it's time we all had a talk," she invited them. "It's a long way to Jamaica and we can't get there unless there's some communication between us all. The first thing to take into consideration... is Rosalind's funeral." She curled her hand around the back of her neck, feeling uneasy as Cairbre looked up. "On land we bury our dead with respect, and it is no different at sea." She paused. "After that we can try to move forward. For instance, there are many things to think about, such as everyone's positions on board. I'll try and decide soon who to appoint to the positions of quartermaster and first mate. This may be a small crew, but it'll still be run properly. We can't afford to be slack - because make no mistake, the Navy will be after us." A hint of disgust was evident in her tone as she mentioned them. "With a fair wind and some luck, I'm sure we can lead them a dance. But I need all of you to work your hardest. This is life and death stuff, alright?"

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: August 16th, 2014, 5:58 pm 
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[Here's my post Goldy! :) I'll try to pm you soon. Can't wait for your SN post btw ;) ]

Tim carefully followed Cairbre's instructions and managed to reach the top deck without tripping or bumping into something. Cairbre took the time to give an extensive description of the ship's interior what left Tim feel amazed at the ship's enormous size. But then, he had only seen ships on the outside and he had never been on one before.

Tim followed Cairbre without asking him where they were going. He heard scuffling and voices, indicating that there were others nearby. Tim wondered if Bathsheba was there and whether she was still angry after their argument. Or perhaps her absence was related to the presence of Cairbre. He didn't know; understanding the mind of a woman had even before his accident not been his strong suit. But whatever was the matter, Tim intended to find out what it was because he wanted his friend back.

--------

Ciaran Archer felt completely at ease with his position at the wheel. He had an overview over the entire ship and for the first time he felt that he was finally able to look ahead, literally, and think about the future. He watched how the girl and the blind lad split their ways after an argument. He felt a bit remorseful to have partly been the cause of that, but he couldn't help it: the blond was begging to be teased.

He noticed how both the self-acclaimed captain and her partner approached him, but they seemingly had a lot of other things on their mind than the ship.

"So, I am not very familiar with the process of commandeering a ship," Ciaran remarked when Liam and Guinevere were within hearing range. "But usually such an action invokes counteractions to retaliate for making the royal navy look like fools."

Ciaran paused for a moment and watched how the tall stern-looking fellow and Tim joined them and how Bathsheba followed them in silence. "What I am trying to say," Ciaran said, directing himself to Guinevere. "Is that a look-out in the crow's nest won't be an unnecessary luxury."

-------

All remained silent when Guinevere answered Ciaran and made her speech. It was in these moments at sea, Liam thought, when things had to be handled, that she was at her best. What a difference with only a few months ago, when she had begged him to leave her behind! When she had hardly any fight and life left to go on. Liam was glad that everyone seemed unified and willing to accept Guin as their captain. A crew with a common purpose could move mountains, but an unified crew that did not accept their captain was more dangerous than any thunderstorm or enemy pursuit.

Liam looked at the faces of the newcomers. The blind lad's face was friendly enough as he nodded at certain remarks Guinevere made, but his expression was also slightly determined, which Liam couldn't help but appreciate. The girl also listened intently to Guinevere's words and there was a sort of admiration on her face, which Liam recalled from their first meeting. She obviously looked up to Guinevere and was perhaps even excited by this adventure.

Suddenly Liam felt a heavy burden of responsibility weigh on his shoulders. They had taken these kids on to give them safe passage on the ship. But if they would ever be seen in their company, any chance on a safe life for them would be over.

--------

Tim listened to the speech of the captain and felt somewhat relieved that she did not mention their unwanted presence. However, whenever the captain had finished, he couldn't help but remarking: "I don't know if I am too forward, but at this point some introductions would be helpful. I usually like to know wich name belongs to which voice."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: August 17th, 2014, 1:45 pm 
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(I'll work on my SN reply as soon as possible! <3 Looking forward to your pm! =D)

Hearing Tim speak, Guinevere turned her head to listen to what he had to say. She did not find his comment too forward; on the contrary, it was perfectly logical to want to know the names of the people you'd be working with, especially when you couldn't see them with your own eyes. Guin had decided to accept Tim and Bathsheba into the crew without even bringing the subject up. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and she needed as many hands on deck as possible. It would be folly to disregard that. She realized, though, that they both needed quite a lot of training; in all probability, neither of those two kids had ever set foot on a ship before. It seemed, though, that Cairbre had taken Tim under his wing, and Guin was grateful for that.

"Well then, I suppose I'd better start by introducing myself," she said. "My name is Guinevere Elliot." It was strange to think that, had things gone very differently, she would by now be called Guinevere Eagle. She hoped that Tim wouldn't prove over curious and enquire as to how everyone on board knew each other. That would just be too complicated to go into, and besides, it wasn't really any of Tim or Bathsheba's business. But there was one thing that the two of them had to think about very carefully. It was with this in mind that she continued talking. "I'd better remind you from the start that I am known and hunted as a notorious criminal. Think about this before you decide whether you really want to sail with us. If we're caught, you'll share in our fate. Although I intend to do my utmost to see to it that we are not caught."

It was only fair to remind Bathsheba and Tim of the dangers of the world they now found themselves in. Guinevere had meant what she said; given a good chance, she would lead the Royal Navy a dance and a half. She'd never had a ship of hers caught by the king's men before, and that wasn't going to change any time soon. Having said her piece, Guinevere looked around to see who might want to introduce themselves next.

~~~

Cairbre took a small step forward, feeling rather awkward. The last thing he wanted to do was introduce himself to anyone. He was still thinking about what Guin had said about Rosalind's funeral. Cairbre couldn't bear the thought that soon, they would have to commit her to the sea. That would solidify the reality and finality of her death. Cairbre hoped so much that his sister was at peace now. She had never known peace during her life; or if she had, it had never lasted long. With all this and more on his mind, Cairbre cleared his throat and spoke quietly.

"Cairbre Eagle," he said, his brow looking quite furrowed. He was unaware that the blonde girl, Bathsheba, was watching him with a frightened but excited look in her eyes. He paused, and turned his blue gaze towards Ciaran for a moment, wondering if the man would recognize his surname. After all, Archer was known to have worked for Lord Eagle, Cairbre's father. Who was to say that Ciaran's loyalties had really changed? "Son of Cathair Eagle. Who, if I know him at all - and I know him well - will be hunting us even now. It's not just the Navy we've got on our tails." He couldn't help sounding so depressed. He was depressed. He turned to look at Guinevere as he fell silent, as if asking her to actually notice that he existed. The numb expression on Cairbre's face certainly seemed to discomfort Guin.

"I won't deny it," she said. "He'll be after us too. You're right, Cairbre. But I dare say that we can shake his lordship off our trail. We're not waving the white flag of defeat just yet."

Guinevere turned next to Liam, indicating that he might introduce himself next. She and Liam were standing quite closely together; all around them could probably sense that they had a lot on their minds that had nothing to do with the ordering of the ship and crew. Cairbre was the one who noticed most the way Liam and Guin were around one another. He had promised himself that he would try not to think about it whilst there was a job to be done - getting to Jamaica - but it was proving very difficult.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: September 20th, 2014, 7:15 am 
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Ciaran raised his eyebrows upon hearing Cairbre's introduction. It was a surprise indeed that the son of Lord Eagle was standing in front of him, alive and well. He hadn't paid specific attention to Cairbre before and had therefore missed some of the striking facial resemblances.

In all that time, Cathair Eagle had never mentioned a word about a son or any child, but then Ciaran never discussed anything personal with Eagle. Their collaboration had been a necessary evil, which Ciaran had only been too happy to dissolve prematurely.

"The name is Archer, Ciaran Archer," he said, glancing at Bathsheba and then at Tim. They both did not look as unsettled as they should be at the thought of being pursued by this English Lord. And no wonder! Neither of them knew this man and what he was capable of.

"Yes," he responded to Cairbre's remark, which he felt was more addressed to him than anyone else. "Eagle will most definitely plan his pursuit. He has been more than determined to hunt you two down." Ciaran nodded to Guinevere and Liam. "He was well-informed about your identities and aware that your company consisted of four. Anyway, I doubt that he is after us now as we speak. As he was left to bleed to death on a deserted beach without any means of transportation, I am sure that we have a good head start."


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

Liam's gaze rested on Ciaran for a moment as he had stopped speaking and the silence continued. He had completely forgotten about the English Lord, who had tracked them to the beach, until Cairbre mentioned him. Back then he had suspected that this man had found out their identities and that his only intention was to hand them over to the authorities, but he apparently had a more elaborate plan. And this Lord, Cathair Eagle, was Cairbre's father. Liam was not sure if by critically injuring his father Cairbre would hate him even more or less. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Liam had never intended to get in this mess anyway.

"Uhm, I am Liam," he said, having almost forgotten that he was asked to introduce himself. "And yes, I injured that man in order to prevent him from capturing us," he said somewhat defensively. He threw a dark look in the direction of Ciaran when he heard him chuckle and was reminded of the manner in which he was forced to leave that beach. "However, we should be ready for him in case he has found a way and means to pursue us."

Liam was suddenly painfully aware that his shirt and hands were smeared with blood, probably that of Caithair Eagle. He looked to Guinevere and Cairbre and said: "But that's probably a matter to discuss later."


------

"Thank you," Tim said when all of the company had introduced themselves. He tried to push away the uneasy feeling that had crept down his spine when Cairbre and Ciaran had spoken of this Lord Eagle. But the man was wounded, that's what Ciaran had said, Tim thought. He would never be able to catch up with them. There was no need to worry about him now.

"I am Timothy, but most people call me Tim. And I am grateful that you will let us sail with you. Despite the things you said I would like to stay and I will try to make me as useful as I possibly can." There was a silence and Tim was surprised that Bathsheba had said nothing until then. It made him wonder if she was there at all. But of that Tim was quite certain. Perhaps it was because of her character or because they had formed an attachment that was deeper than Tim dared to admit, but he was always able to sense her presence, from the moment they'd met...


Rain was coming down in sheets. It had been pouring down for weeks on end now. The usually dusty streets had changed into marshes in which carriages got stuck. A few storage buildings got into trouble because the roofs couldn't handle the continuous downpour of rain and some very costly wares had been destroyed.

Tim had been wandering near these storage houses in the hope to find some rotten food, thrown away after the roof came down. He had been unsuccessful so now he struggled to get himself through the streets in the twilight. The ghastly weather made it hard for him to tell time with the absence of the sun and with no soul to find outside. His spirits were low, like usual when he had gone on for days without something to eat. It was in those moments that he believed his fears might come true. That one day he might not even have the strength to get up and perish on the streets without anyone even looking back.

Tim had left the actual harbour behind him and passed through a maze of small streets. After passing the inn - the Old Fisherman- on his left, he took the first turn left. He was almost there. Only a few weeks earlier, Tim had been looking for a place to pass the night. He had remembered the Old Fisherman and realised that there was a stable nearby. However, a quick examination told Tim that the doors were bolted as usual. It was only then that he had heard creaking of a window in the wind. It was only because he had emaciated so much that his frame only just fitted through the window opening.

By now he had become proficient in climbing through the tiny window - the first time he almost broke his neck- but today Tim landed on both hands and feet. He shook the raindrops from his hair and threw his soaking wet coat on the straw covered floor of an empty stable box. Tim sighed deeply and let himself fall on the straw, while closing his eyes. He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling of hunger in the pit of his stomach and wondered how the hell he could get to the next day.

Another feeling disturbed Tim's dark thoughts. There was something off. There were these moments that Tim did not need his sight, but he sensed that something was wrong. He was not the only human being in this stable; someone was watching him.



On deck, Tim looked in the direction where he knew she was standing and said quietly: "Bathsheba?"
Then he  walked away from the others to the railing of the ship, hoping that his friend still was there to talk with him.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: September 22nd, 2014, 10:47 am 
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The revelation that Liam had injured his father, perhaps critically, hit Cairbre like a ton of bricks. Until now, he had been unaware of this incident. He remained silent, his skin turning pale, and watched Liam with a strange expression on his features. He felt completely divided as to how he felt about the information he had just received. On the one hand, Cairbre would have dearly liked the chance to cause his father some grave injury himself, as revenge for everything Cathair had done over the years. On the other, if Liam had killed his father, then Cairbre was forever deprived of the opportunity to confront him. There were so many things to be said. Cairbre hated his father for many reasons: for causing the premature death of his mother with his coldness and neglect, for mistreating his family with brutal violence, and for what he did now. Cairbre had no doubt that Cathair meant to see him dead; in his father's eyes, he had disgraced the family name with his piratical life. If he lived, Cathair would do all that he could to make his son pay.

"Yes," he finally said in reply to Liam's last comment. "That probably is a matter best left to discuss later. We wouldn't want to depress this merry company - not when everything is looking so bright and hopeful." His tone was sarcastic and bitter, and his face had darkened. His blue eyes dropped to the deck for a moment; he looked as if he was silently willing himself to be anywhere but here. Then, suddenly and without warning, he abruptly turned away. "I can't deal with all of this," he said harshly, and walked away without another word more, disappearing below deck, the weight of everything that had happened heavy on his shoulders.

~~~

Bathsheba looked up at Tim, distracted from the scene she had just witnessed. Even though Tim could not see her, she felt an uncomfortable blush rise up to her face. She hated the thought that he might even be able to guess some of what she was feeling. She felt very much as if all she had done today was make a fool of herself. But she felt utterly out of things here on this ship; she didn't feel right in her own skin. She couldn't offer anything to this crew. She had no useful purpose here, and in her eyes, it would not be long before she was cast away. She saw her days as being numbered. Then what would she do, left to fend for herself out in the wide world once again, without Tim?

"Oh, I don't think that I need say anything. Well, alright, I suppose. My name's Bathsheba," she blurted out, casting an anxious glance at the remaining company before looking back at Tim. It felt better already to be at his side once more. But her painful nervousness remained, and she could not help but wonder where Cairbre might have gone. He had looked so angry. Once again, Bathsheba's thoughts made her feel foolish. That man didn't even know that she existed. But he looked like he was in so much pain. Bathsheba had never experienced any of the things he had went through, but she had known pain in her life.

She was sitting huddled in a corner of the stable, her hair dripping wet and plastered to her face from the rain. The huge, oversized man's coat she wore acted as a shelter for her slender, trembling body. Strangely enough, she felt no fear towards the young man who had just burst in on her hiding place. She was too much focused on her own troubles to feel fearful about someone who looked as harmless as he did. She stayed where she was, watching him with a glazed look in her eyes as she shivered from head to toe, wrapping her coat even tighter around her. The only sound in the stable was that of her and the stranger's breathing; that, and the grumble of hunger that Bathsheba's stomach suddenly made. She had not eaten anything for days on end. She wondered how long it might be before she began to starve to death. She had already lost quite a bit of weight.

"Who are you?" she spoke up quickly, not wanting him to laugh at her. But she got the feeling that he wouldn't. He looked just as hungry as she was. Her tone of voice was imperious; it comforted her to be able to sound something like her old self. "I had chosen this as my own shelter for the night, but I suppose you can stay. You look as bad as I do."


~~~

Guinevere stood where she was with the rest of the gathered group, her eyes on the spot that Cairbre had just vacated. Something inside her told her that it would be the right thing to do to go after him. But go after him and say what? She felt that there was nothing she could possibly say to make things better. Guilt tore at her, and she felt a sudden urge to do something violent, like punch a wall or pull at her hair. After a moment or so she remembered that everyone was standing around, probably waiting for her to say something. She took a deep breath and rested one hand against the helm. As the captain, she had to maintain order and authority. "Well, that's all of us introduced, then," she said. "Very good. Now, next on the agenda, before anything else, is Rosalind's funeral. It should be later this afternoon or early this evening."

She was left with no choice but to go after Cairbre. She needed to talk to him about the arrangements. It was a burden that felt like almost too much to bear, but she had no other option. She turned to Liam and smiled, reaching out and giving his hand a small secret squeeze. "You're in charge whilst I'm gone," she informed him. "I shouldn't be long."

~~~

It didn't take her too long to find Cairbre. He was sitting on the stairs that led below deck, with a gloomy countenance. Guinevere prepared herself before going down the steps and approaching him. She sat down beside him, instantly feeling a wave of pain wash over her. She tried her best to keep the look on her face as ordinary as possible; she didn't want him to see that it hurt her to be near him again. "Cairbre," she said, very quietly, feeling as if she was treading on thin ice. "I wish you hadn't just walked off like that. I understand why you did, but... it unsettled everyone."

Cairbre turned his head to look at her. It was clear that he was surprised to see her here; he had expected her to just go on ignoring him. It was difficult for him to know what to say. "What're you doing here, Guin?" he asked her after a lengthy pause. "What do you want, if not to torture me?" He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he couldn't help it. He understood Guinevere's behaviour and the reasons for it, but it still hurt him beyond any words. The pain was only too evident in his eyes.

"I'm here because we need to put Rosa to rest," Guin said, stumbling over the words slightly, put at a loss by Cairbre's reproach. "We need to talk about..."

"Yes, of course we do. I know we do. But we need to talk about other things too," Cairbre interrupted her. He reached out and tried to touch Guin's hand, but instantly pulled back when she flinched away from him. He looked away and sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "How did it come to this," he muttered. "Fine. Let's talk about the service. If that's the only thing we can talk about, I'm glad we can at least do that."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: September 30th, 2014, 6:12 pm 
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Who does he think he is?

Liam had lost count of the times that Cairbre had managed to astonish him with his self-centredness and arrogance. The familiar feeling of frustration bubbled up in his chest after Cairbre had stormed off.

Did Cairbre really think that his life had been a party after Rosalind and he had disappeared? Guin had hardly been more than a ghost, barely alive and consumed by grief and he had been wounded. They had wandered on the road for weeks and nearly starved to death. But they didn’t. He took care of Guinevere, so that she could come back. And when they were captured, they still had managed to escape, while freeing Cairbre and his sister as well. But Cairbre still found a way to blame him, while none of this was his fault.
He should not have expected something else.

Ciaran rolled his eyes upon watching Cairbre's dramatical exit. He was about to walk away when he felt a sharp pinch in his thigh. He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a leather band with a silver cross. “Captain Kidd!” Ciaran called out and he tossed the necklace with the crucifix to Liam. “I believe you dropped this.” He watched how Liam caught the necklace with one hand and looked at it for a moment before carefully putting it on.

Liam froze when Ciaran addressed him with some made-up nickname, while returning his crucifix. The bounty hunter seemed to be determined to take his frustration to the next level. But Liam would not tolerate that any longer. He took a few steps back towards Ciaran. “Tell me, Archer, why did you do it?” he asked quietly, without taking his eyes from Ciaran’s face.

Ciaran raised his eyebrows, quite unprepared for this blunt question. But within seconds he recollected himself. “Why did I do what?” he questioned, stressing every word carefully.

“Doing whatever you did that get you and me here,” Liam retorted. He looked around him for a moment, but Guinevere was below decks with Cairbre, so he continued. “You are a mystery to me, Archer. You are in league with this Lord Eagle, but you do not hesitate for a moment to leave the man to die. You are willing to put your life at stake without immediate reward for those who are not your friends and who you do not even like. For what? You are a bounty hunter. You don’t believe in alliances or loyalty –.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ciaran interrupted, his words coming out in almost nothing more than a hiss. His dark eyes had narrowed and he looked as if he was about to hit Liam. However, although the man’s words made Ciaran furious, he had learnt to contain himself. “How convenient would it be if I had a double agenda and I was to double-cross you.” He almost spit out these last words. “Don’t you dare to presume to know me.” He turned his back on Liam to walk back to the helm, not willing to waste any more time on the bloody Jamaican.

“Indeed,” Liam said, keeping his voice equally low as Ciaran's. He did not feel threatened at all by the bounty hunter, not anymore. “I don’t know you and I don’t trust you.” He watched how the bounty hunter strode off and then glanced at the passage that led below deck, through which Cairbre and Guinevere had disappeared. Liam sighed. This undertaking could be more difficult than he had anticipated.


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


Tim’s blank gaze wandered through the barn as soon as he realised that someone else was there. It couldn't be the stable master; he was never out here at this time of night and if he was, Tim would immediately have paid the price for his burglary. Still, he blindly groped around to find his cane, which not only helped him to find his way, but also proved to be an useful defence weapon.
However, when he suddenly heard the voice of a girl quite nearby, he let his cane drop to the floor and slumped down against the wall again. The feeling of sudden fear was replaced by indignation. This girl, whoever she was, allowed him to stay here? He had found this stable and passed the nights there for weeks. Tim shook his head and searched the inside pocket of his coat for a makeshift water bag. Perhaps the only advantage the past weeks of rain was that he was never short on drinking water. He took a long swig of water, hoping that the fluid would fill the emptiness in his stomach.

His sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a rumbling stomach across the barn. Still, Tim did not feel inclined to say anything to the stranger at all, even if she was in as bad shape as he was. Getting involved with others was dangerous, especially for Tim. Getting involved usually meant trouble and that was the last thing he needed. So Tim remained silent and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible to get through this cold night.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: October 2nd, 2014, 2:18 pm 
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A long silence reigned as Cairbre and Guinevere sat side by side, each without looking at the other. So many things were left unsaid, burning away below the surface. They had agreed to talk about Rosalind's funeral arrangements, but it appeared that they couldn't even manage that without some difficulty. The ship creaked as it moved in the water, and Guinevere wondered how on earth she would claw the words out of her throat. She couldn't bear the expression on Cairbre's face; it looked as if it was killing him to sit here with her like this. Once upon a time, if she'd seen him looking like that, she might have reached out and taken his hand, or touched his face. But not now. She couldn't. Her knees were beginning to tremble with suppressed frustration; why couldn't she say anything? At the same time, she felt angry at Cairbre. He was the one who had disappeared, made her believe that he was dead. He was the one who had run after Rosalind, bringing himself into the line of the redcoats' fire. She knew deep inside of her that all of this wasn't his fault; but she couldn't help feeling this way.

Her shaking knee accidentally bumped against his, and Cairbre turned to look at her. His brow was written with concern. She couldn't stand the thought of him feeling worried about her. Forcing herself to speak, she finally blurted out, "when we lay Rosalind to rest... would you allow me to say a prayer for her soul?" It was a relief to finally get some words out. But even to herself, her voice sounded strained. She watched Cairbre as he considered her question.

"Of course I would allow you," he replied after only a moment or so. Rosalind had never been very religious, but Cairbre knew that she had believed in God. She wouldn't have cared about the divide between different religions. "You don't even have to ask. Rosalind would have wanted you to say something." He paused, and a small, sad smile crossed his lips. He, too, was finding it difficult to speak. "You know how much she loved you, Guin."

Guinevere nodded, feeling immensely choked up. Rosalind had indeed loved her as a sister, and Guinevere had loved her back. She wished that she could have done more to help her in her last moments. She knew that no one could have saved Rosalind, but the guilt was still there in her heart. If only she had been there to protect Rosa. "And I loved her as well," she murmured. There was another long pause, before Cairbre spoke again.

"You loved me too, once," he said very quietly. He waited as Guinevere said nothing in reply, wondering if he had made a dreadful mistake by daring to raise the subject. He knew at once that he had when Guinevere turned to face him, colour rising to her face. It was obvious now that he had angered her.

"How dare you?" she whispered. "I still love you. How could you think otherwise?"

"Then why...?" Cairbre shook his head, wanting so much to be able to reach out and touch her. But Guinevere was moving away from him, unspeakable fury building up in her eyes. All Cairbre could do was try to talk to her. "Why won't you come back to me, then? Why does it have to be like this?" He knew the answers to his questions already, but he wanted to hear it from her. "Is it because of Liam? Because you love him, too?" His voice broke slightly upon those words.

"Yes. I do love him. I already told you... but that's not the only reason why," Guinevere said. "There are so many things that can't be undone... the pain I went through after I thought you died, how can that ever be mended? I nearly died. I stared death in the face, felt it's grip upon me. You cannot know what it is, to lose all hope."

"Don't I? I feel hopeless enough now," Cairbre replied. "Can't you see how much it hurts me to hear you say you love another man? How much it hurts me to see you like this, to know that I was so far away when you were in so much distress? I would have made it right again if I could. I spent months searching for you, Guin. I never stopped. Even though Rosa was ill, and growing more so, we never gave up looking for you. And then we were arrested, and I thought that I would never have the chance to see you again. But here we are, despite everything - together. Don't you remember how happy we were? Or do you refuse to remember? We can be happy again..."

"Stop it," Guinevere interrupted him, raising her voice. She scrambled to her feet and looked down at him, clutching the stair rail. "Stop! You don't get to tell me how things will be!" Her voice shook, but she was shouting by now; she could very easily be heard by those above deck. "You can't make this better, Cairbre!" She snatched a breath and then continued in a quieter tone. "We will have Rosalind's funeral in a few hours, if that suits you." Without another word, she rushed up the stairs. Cairbre was left alone, sitting in complete and utter shock.

~~~

As she appeared above deck again, Guinevere did her best to hold her dignity together. She didn't want anyone to see her in such a state. She walked across the deck, anger still boiling inside her. She felt furious with Cairbre for provoking her temper like this. She was so occupied in trying to make herself appear calm that she found herself bumping directly into Ciaran, the bounty hunter. She found herself gripping the man's arm to regain her balance after colliding with him. Her cheeks were still flushed pink, and a glare formed itself on her features. She didn't want anyone making any 'angry redhead' jokes. "As you were," she said stiffly, and began to walk away, looking around for Liam.

She badly wanted to talk to him, but she remembered all the things he'd said about wanting her to wait before she made a decision. Perhaps he wanted to keep his distance from her. The thought of that hurt her so much. She needed Liam. And she wanted to stop feeling so angry, to wash away all of this pain. Her eyes met his across the deck for a few moments, before she looked away again. She supposed that Liam wanted her to concentrate on being the captain and nothing else. That was far easier said than done.

She walked alone across the deck, keeping her head held high. She would seclude herself in the captain's quarters and look over some of the maps.

~~~

"Oh, so you're not going to talk to me?" Now that Bathsheba had started talking, it was somewhat difficult to stop. She hadn't exchanged a single conversation with anyone for months, and that was difficult for someone of her character. She had always been outgoing, and prone to raise her opinions to anyone who might hear them. "That's just typical. I try and be nice to someone, and he won't even reply. No, he won't even look at me. I suppose you think that you're better than I am." She took a closer look at Tim, and frowned. There was something strange about his eyes; there was a distant look in them that suggested that he wasn't really seeing things properly, or at all. Was he blind? Bathsheba wondered whether she should feel guilty for her previous words, but she neglected to make an apology. She could be wrong.

"You could try and be friendly," she continued. "After all, I've had a trying day. First thing in the morning, I nearly get run over by a carriage. Then I have my shoes stolen. And as if that wasn't enough, this awful rain starts up again!" She shook her head and sighed, huddling into her coat. She kept an eye on Tim, watching to see if he did anything sudden. He may have appeared harmless, but she still didn't feel inclined to trust him entirely. As far as she was concerned, these were her sleeping quarters. She didn't feel too happy about sharing them.


At last, Bathsheba followed Tim over to the railing of the ship. She looked down at her feet, wishing that she could make a proper apology for getting at him earlier; but she didn't feel capable of saying what she felt. Instead, she clutched the railing and started talking about nothing. "Well, it's been a funny old day," she said in a voice of forced jollity. "I wonder what it'll be like, our first sea voyage. Are you looking forward to it? I'd say I'm looking forward to it." She pretended to laugh and then cringed, getting more and more annoyed with herself. She glanced up at Tim and shrugged her shoulders, her forehead screwed up in a frown.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said. "You know I'm not good at saying things like that... but I'm sorry. I know I'm acting like a fool. But I can't seem to help it. Oh, if only I could explain to you."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: October 4th, 2014, 12:23 pm 
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Tim closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to shut out the girl's insistent chatter. His mood was not improving, especially when she scolded at him for not even looking at her. Tim briefly considered retorting that there was nothing for him to look at -literally- but he quickly dismissed that thought. His sight, or rather the lack of it, was not something he discussed with anyone, not even to counter arrogance. Because that's what this girl sounded like: arrogant. There was a notion of self-importance as she reprimanded him for not paying attention to her and a hint of authority in her voice, like she was used to giving orders, when she told him he could stay.

These were two characteristics that hardly belonged to any girl from family of harbour labourers, or any family of less fortune for that matter. The corners of Tim's mouth twitched up in a half-smile as he reached his conclusion. The girl was definitely not used to living on the streets and she was most certainly not as homeless as he was.

"Tell me," Tim finally said. "How does one's shoes get stolen? Didn't see the thieves coming?" There was a subtle hint of sarcasm in his voice and a faint smile was still on his face. "You should do yourself a favour. Go home in the morning. Whatever it is that made you leave; this is not worth it."


--------

Tim stood near the railing of the ship, facing the ocean. He felt more relieved after having spoken to Cairbre and the speech of the Captain. They could stay and help out on the ship until they reached their destination – wherever that was. Still, he couldn’t help but notice the tension on board. He could sense there was conflict everywhere and that didn't bode well if they would have to work together any time soon.

When he heard soft footsteps, Tim’s heart rate suddenly seemed to quicken. Bathsheba stood next to him for a few moments before she started speaking. But as soon as she apologised, Tim realised that he didn’t need her to say it.

“No,” Tim said, turning to Bathsheba. “I am the one, who should apologise. I have been on my own for so long, fending for myself, that I sometimes forget I have a friend now and that I should stick up for my friend.” He raised his hand and searched for her arm. When he found her shoulder, Tim squeezed it softly. “I am sorry.”

He turned to face the water, but left his left hand, through which a tingling sensation had spread, on Bathseba's right shoulder.The smile on his face widened.
"Do you act a bit foolish now and then though."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: October 4th, 2014, 2:08 pm 
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Bathsheba didn't like the expression that was now on Tim's face. Was he laughing at her? His words only heightened her suspicion that he was trying to mock her. What business of his was it how she may have had her shoes stolen? In fact, she had taken them off to try and wash her feet in a puddle; her lack of street smarts had proved fatal. Now she had to trudge around in the pouring rain, her feet protected only by a battered pair of stockings. She scowled at Tim as he told her to go home, as if he knew anything about the circumstances that had forced her to leave. How dare he lord it over her!

"You can be quiet," she snapped back in reply, not caring if she sounded rude. This young man had no right to speak to her in such a way. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. I wouldn't go home for anything, not for the world." Her lip curled up in a sneer just at the thought of it. She wouldn't lower herself by going back now. She had made a decision and she meant to stick to it. She could make her own way in life; she couldn't rely upon anyone else but herself now. If that meant being a thief and not a lady, then so be it. She had made a deal with herself that tomorrow, she would get some food, whatever the consequences. She had gone hungry for too long, and she was willing to put herself in any danger in order to relieve that hunger.


~~~

The time had finally come to put Rosalind to rest. Cairbre was still not sure if he was really ready to let her go; in fact, he knew for certain that he was not. His whole life, he had looked after his sister. He would always remember the time they had lived under their father's roof, reliant on each other in an existence marred by paternal cruelty. The night they had fled the Eagle estate would always live in his memory; they had been fearful, but so full of hope, knowing that they were on the brink of another life, a better life. It was almost impossible to realize that he could never spend another moment with his sister, and that her burial was the last thing he would ever do for her.

The ship had been stopped. Rosalind's body now lay on the deck, placed on a stand and wrapped respectfully in sailcloth which was weighted by cannonballs. Cairbre stood by, gripping the rails of the ships with whitened knuckles. He felt numb with shock, but not only because of the funeral. The incident with Guinevere was still vivid in his mind. She was there too, standing some distance away, her face masked against showing any emotion, her hands folded. It was understandable that she was steeling herself for the funeral, but it made her seem even more out of reach than ever. The only evidence that she felt anything was in her eyes. Cairbre found himself mourning Guinevere's loss as well as Rosalind's. It seemed that Guinevere had decided once and for all that she would not come back to him.

~~~

This was such a heavy burden to bear. This was one amongst many duties that rested on a captain's shoulders alone; it was up to her to make sure that Rosalind was laid to rest with respect. Everyone was gathered on the deck, and the ship sat anchored in the water. In one way, it was a risk to halt their journey even for a short time, since it was certain that they would be pursued. But it was the right thing to do. This was the end of a person's life they were marking. Guinevere kept a cool and calm countenance; she had to, in order to cope with this. Her outburst earlier, she felt, had put her at a disadvantage; it was mortifying to think that anyone had seen her in such a way, flushed and shaking with anger.

Guinevere stepped forward now and cleared her throat. It was time. She prayed that she would not let Rosalind down. "We are gathered here today to put to rest Rosalind Eagle, a beloved friend and sister," she said, keeping her voice steady, without a single falter. "She was a person always so full of life; it seems hard to believe that she is gone forever. She will be missed beyond any words. I can safely say that she will never fade in my memory; it was a privilege to know her. Now, if I may... I will say a prayer." She lowered her head and made the sign of the cross. There was a tiny murmur of surprise from Bathsheba, which the girl quickly suppressed. Prayers for the dead were considered a Papist tradition; Catholicism was banned in England. Guinevere ignored the small interruption and carried on.

"Eternal rest grant unto her, oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: October 20th, 2014, 4:09 pm 
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“You are making a big mistake.”

There was an intense sadness in Tim’s voice and he looked for a moment in the direction of the lass. Then Tim shook his head and said no more. He was still disgruntled over the fact that his safe and dry sleeping place was occupied and that she showed no intention of going any time soon. He would have to find a way to fix that tomorrow.

Tim got up and rearranged some stacks of straw, which would serve as his bed, before he sank down. Even though the straw was dry and formed a sort of insulation layer, his clothing was still soaking wet, so that he was chilled to the bone. Tim closed his eyes and listened to his own steady breathing. For the first time in a long time he let his thoughts drift off to his family to relive and cherish memories of his parents and his brothers and sister. Normally, he would not allow himself to dwell too long on the past, as it made him less strong. But now in this night, when he had actual company for the first time in months, he felt lonelier than ever.



Tim stood silently near the edge of the group of mourners. He felt rather like an uninvited guest at a party, or a funeral in this case. He had never attended a funeral before. Not that there were no funerals to attend; death was a constant factor, always present in the midst of life. Both children and adults died of diseases, injury or famine, but most of the harbour labourers couldn't afford a funeral. There was only a quick burial, while the families mourned in private. Death was dealt with almost a sort of stoicism and acceptance, but also respect.

Now, Tim’s feelings weren't much different. He didn't stir or gave any signs of surprise, when the Captain said words of prayer, nor did he appear to have joined her in praying.
He tried to think of this girl, who was perhaps not much older than he was and had lost her life so needlessly. He found it difficult to pay his respects, not only because Rosalind had been nothing more than a stranger to him, but also because his mind kept wandering over the thought of whether this was one of many funerals to come now he had joined this crew.


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


Ciaran was part of the semi-circle that had surrounded around the platform on which Rosalind’s body was laid. There was no wake, no coffin, no grave in a graveyard for mourning. There would only be memories to hold on to. Clasping hands around his throat, determined to squeeze the life out of him. Splatters of blood on his face. Lifeless staring eyes, which only a moment ago had looked at him, filled with hatred. That was the only we he could remember this girl.

Ciaran’s mind had drifted off when Guinevere had started speaking, but when the word prayer was mentioned, he looked up. He stared at the redhead with an estranged look in his eyes, as if he just saw her for the first time. These words revealed that she was like him. He had expected it of the Jamaican, but not of this English born and bred Lady-turned-pirate.

Familiar words filled his ears and his arm moved almost automatically to make sign of the cross in his usual hurried way. He had uttered such words before. His raw voice had rasped them to the darkness, pleading desperately, but they had not provided relief or hope. Nor had they given him strength to contain or resist the monster within.

Screams and cries suddenly filled his mind. Terrified faces. Lifeless eyes. Blood. Crying children. Shuddering women. Darkness.
The loud splashing sound after Rosalind’s body was lowered into the water interrupted Ciaran's horrible train of memories, that was set in motion. Only after a few moments he realised that Rosalind was now really gone. Ciaran threw a last dark look at Guinevere and turned on his heels to leave.


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

Liam had smiled at Guinevere encouragingly when she said the prayer for Rosalind. Unlike him, she had always been very private about her beliefs. Still, she thought that this was the right occasion to share them. Liam, however, found it hard to say something kind about Rosalind. She had never made a big secret of it that she would do anything in her power to prevent him from being with Guin. Her perfect fairy tale only included the three of them: Guin, her brother and herself. It would be an insult to speak kindly about her now she was gone, while he could not bring himself to do it when she was still alive. Besides, Rosalind would probably never have wanted him to say anything kind about her; she did want his kindness. So therefore, Liam directed himself to Guinevere and only said: "Those were good words. You did well, Guin."

He frowned as he watched how Ciaran walked away after the last goodbyes were said to Rosalind. His gaze then rested on Cairbre and Guinevere. The tension seemed almost tangible as they were all gathered on the top deck to mourn a sister, a friend and an adversary. Whatever silent treatment Guinevere had given Cairbre, it had obviously ended after Guinevere's speech and Cairbre's sudden departure. Liam had no idea what had passed on between the two of them below deck, but he could guess what the subject of their discussion had been. It was almost impossible not to notice the frequent glances that were thrown in the direction of Guin by Cairbre. He would not leave any moment unattended to win Guinevere for himself, Liam realised. The thought of Guin being at Cairbre's side once more made him feel nauseous.

Cairbre, however, had not spoken or even glanced at him after the whole ordeal. Even though by this time they both lost a sister, the love of their lives and almost their own lives, there was no empathy or consideration, only distrust and hatred. Some things that are broken can never be mended again and their fragile friendship had shattered a long time ago.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: October 23rd, 2014, 12:33 pm 
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It was impossible to describe the rush of different emotions Guinevere felt when Rosalind's body disappeared into the water. Rosa was finally gone, and she would never return again. Guin had carried out her duty as captain and as a friend; there was nothing to be done now but carry on with life. Guin hoped with all her heart that Rosa was at peace now. She turned away from the railing of the ship and took a deep breath in, before exhaling with relief. She smiled at Liam as he spoke to her. "Those were good words. You did well, Guin." It was reassuring to hear that he thought she'd done well. She'd spent so long worrying that she wouldn't be able to form the words properly, that the pressure would prove too much to bear. But it was alright. Liam's words filled her with warmth, and she felt herself begin to relax and dare to feel happy.

"Thank you, Liam," she replied. "That means a lot to me."

Ciaran had disappeared after throwing Guinevere a very strange look. Tim and Bathsheba were hanging back together, sticking by each other's side, appearing not to want to get in the way. As for Cairbre, he remained standing by the rails, looking paler than ever and very far from happy. Guinevere was suddenly pierced by guilt, for she knew that a large amount of Cairbre's pain was because of her. She had no wish to cause anyone unhappiness, but she couldn't seem to help it. But her guilt was mixed with resentment too, resentment against him. She knew that it was wrong of her to be so unfair towards him, but this, too, was something that she just couldn't help.

Cairbre suddenly looked up and moved away from the rails. He appeared utterly numb, and still in shock; he forced himself to keep his usual dignified stance, like a marble pillar. He looked from Guinevere, to Liam, then back again, and forced a smile. It was an empty smile. "That was well done," he said in a toneless voice. His conversation with Guinevere appeared to have taken a great toll on him; he almost resembled a ghost. "So... it's over then..." There was a hint of a question mark at the end of this sentence. He was referring to the funeral, but he could just as easily be asking about something else too. Guinevere stood perfectly still, watching and waiting to see what happened next. A few moments passed, before Cairbre smiled that small, hollow smile and turned to walk away across the deck.

~~~

It was still dark, but Bathsheba could tell that it was near dawn from the birdsong that was beginning to float into the barn. She sat huddled in a corner, almost disappearing into her coat, the collar turned up for greater warmth. She had got very little sleep, but she didn't care. She had determined that when it grew light, she would go out in search of food. She didn't care what might happen to her if she was caught trying to steal. She had reached the point of no return. She wasn't a rich gentleman's daughter anymore. In any case, even in their times of fortune, she and her family had never been "quite the thing", having earned their money through trade instead of inheriting it. New money was looked down upon. People had declared themselves not surprised when Bathsheba's father lost everything he had earned, sneering, saying that he ought never to have got above himself in the first place.

Bathsheba scrambled to her feet and glanced at Tim's sleeping form. She had already decided that she didn't like him, so it would cost her nothing to leave without saying goodbye. Dawn could not be far off now. She was counting down the minutes until she could get something to eat.


~~~

Although it felt bad to admit this, Guinevere was relieved that Cairbre had gone. She didn't want to be dragged down by his low mood. She wanted to look forward, to see life in a bright light as she had always done. With this in mind, she reached into her pocket and brought out a silver flask. She turned to Liam and smiled. It felt so good to be in his company. Just being by his side lifted her spirits. "Look what I found in the quarters of the former captain," she said, undoing the lid of the flask. She'd been saving it for after the funeral, in case she needed a boost after an emotionally draining experience. "Some very fine rum. I've only had a sip, but it tastes like home. I wouldn't be surprised if it came straight from Port Royal." She raised the flask to her lips now and took a small drink. Guin was never an over indulgent drinker. The rum tingled on her tastebuds, warming and fiery. Her smile widened and she offered the flask to Liam, her fingers brushing against his as she did so.

She turned back to the railings and lifted her face to the sun. She closed her eyes for a moment to let the sunlight sink into her skin. She could scarcely wait to find herself once more enveloped by the warmth of the Caribbean sun. When she opened her eyes, she felt filled with the hope of possibilities. The burden of responsibility for Rosalind's funeral had been lifted from her shoulders, and she felt far better for it. She would never forget Rosalind, but it was time to move on from her death. She had experienced enough sorrow these past months. Here with Liam, like this, she felt as if she could breathe again.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: November 17th, 2014, 1:12 pm 
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"So that was that then," Tim said to Bathsheba as they stood at a small distance from the Captain and her friend. "Is it just me or is something going on aboard of this ship?" He looked at Bathsheba and grinned. "The tension is so tangible that I am almost glad I can't see."

He leaned with his back against the ship's railing, but he didn't needed its support now. After all, the anchor had been lowered some time before the funeral so the ship's rocking was minimal.

Tim felt a strange longing to look over his shoulder now and then, but knowing that he could not scan the horizon for another set of sails, he ignored it. Still, he felt worried about what had been revealed during the Captain's speech. Taking it up against an vengeful English Lord of influence and wealth had never been on his wish list and the sooner the ship would continue to make way to its final destination, the better.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Tim continued. "We go our own way as soon as we reach whatever place we're going."
Somehow, that couldn't happen too soon for him. His hand searched for Bathsheba's arm, which was always steady and guided him past obstacles. When he found it, he lay his hand on the sleeve of her coat and smiled. "Do you already know what you want to do or where to go once we get there?"


The first rays of light shone through the filthy windows of the stable, but that was not what woke Tim up. It was the gnawing feeling of hunger, which by this time hurt. But there was something else that his sensitive hearing picked up, but that his half- awake mind did not register yet: heavy footsteps and tuneless humming.

Suddenly, the door of the stables were thrown open and the stable master entered to fetch a horse for one of the early departing guests from the inn. But the footsteps stopped and so did the sound of humming and Tim imagined how the man froze and stared at someone who did not belong in that stable. Tim still lay low in the straw, so that person had to be the girl.

"What the devil are you doing here, you beggar!" the man shouted at Bathsheba. "You thought you could break into my barn, unpunished?" A few more footsteps and a scraping sound. The stable master had picked up a pitch fork that lay idly on the floor.

Tim groaned inwardly, knowing that this last night had been the last time that he used the barn for shelter. Quietly, he searched the floor for his water bag and put it back in his pocket. The stable master, who was still shouting things about calling the constable and sending all the filthy beggars to the workhouse, stood in the front of the barn so Tim was still out of sight.

It was now or never. He wasn't sure why he would anything for this girl; a stranger, who would probably bring him nothing but trouble. All he had learnt was that he had to be selfish in order to survive, but somehow he was not capable of that now. Tim sprinted as fast as he could to the source of the shouting, glad that the man was still talking so that he could aim his tackle. With force he pushed the man to the ground. In his fall, he felt something hard hit his face. The stable master sputtered in surprise and groaned when he hit the ground, but didn't stop struggling. "You! You blind thief! I'll make sure they will lock you up this time." Limbs were tangled. Tim tried to throw a blind punch to get the man off him, but his fist didn't connect with his intended target, while his opponent had perfect aim. Where was his cane when he needed it? Tim gasped for air and then uttered: "Do something!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liam took the flask, which Guin offered him, and stared at it for a moment. Then he took a controlled sip and felt how the liquid burned in his throat and consequently spread warmth through his body, starting from his stomach and slowly reaching his limbs. The last time he felt this tingling warmth and this slumbering yearning for more and more was on a very similar occasion. However, unlike now, he then needed the liquor to numb his feelings and his guilt. He needed to fill the hole that Aileen's death had left, so he drank, too much and for too long. The result was disastrous; a chapter in his life that he regretted more than anything and which he, because of the course of events, had not even been able to share with Guinevere.

He took another sip, before handing the flask back to Guin. "It feels good to taste a bit of home again," Liam said with a content sigh. "I do long to be back there and leave all the ghosts of the past buried in the past."

Liam looked sideways at Guinevere. Unlike during the funeral, she looked completely at ease now as she stood there with eyes closed, enjoying the sun. As he looked at her now, it almost felt like things were nearly back to how they were before: they were back at sea and Cairbre and he were still competing for Guinevere's affections. But could things really be like they were before?

"Guinevere, you should know that things are not the same in Port Royal as before you left." Liam's face was serious as he recalled the events that had taken place there.
"The day that I managed to get passage on a ship that would bring me to England, I heard the news that there had been a slave uprising at St. Mary's. Several hundredths of them had taken up arms and killed the plantation owners and attempted to take control of Port Mary. It was also told that Governor Moore mobilized many troops in order to put the revolt down and he declared martial law."

Liam was silent for a moment and thought of how he back then had been torn between the longing to warn his Jamaican friends and the urge to leave immediately as the window to leave Port Royal without trouble would undoubtedly close soon because of these measures. As much as he hated the English Lords and plantation owners that ruled the island with an iron fist, he knew that such an uprising could only result in death. But now he was going back again, he wondered what had changed after this time.

"I think we can expect more patrols and Redcoats with more liberties," Liam finally said. He lay his hand on Guinevere's. "And some things won't be tolerated any more."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 7th, 2015, 1:06 pm 
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[Are you still in, Goldy? :( ]

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 18th, 2015, 2:37 pm 
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(Hi, Will!!! <333 *big hugs* I've sent you a pm explaining my terribly long absence! And I'm going to work on a reply as soon as possible :hug: )

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