#my finest moment methinks
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Radiohead Retrospective Part 8: Slowly we unfurl
Last week I compared The King of Limbs to Kid A, a reference I find completely natural. Both albums use significant electronic and ambient instrumentation, especially compared to the albums preceding them, and both feature stark, surreal imagery and lyricism. Kid A is a response to the band’s discomfort at getting huge, while The King of Limbs is a response to them deliberately getting much smaller after cutting ties with EMI/Parlophone.
I’m also pretty sure that comparison really pisses off a bunch of people who really like Kid A and really don’t care for The King of Limbs. And they’re entitled to their opinion, but they’re wrong. Album’s great.
Aside from potentially the spookiest cover of any Radiohead album, TKOL as it’s so abbreviated happens to be the shortest Radiohead album, clocking in at 8 songs and under 38 minutes (for reference, the longest one is Hail to the Thief at 14 songs/~57 minutes). It does not, however, seek to be wasting any of those minutes, despite the often looping nature of its songs, each drizzled in enough Stuff Going On that it feels much deeper than that short timeframe makes it seem.
That, or I just get lost in the groove.
While the comparison to Kid A is probably getting a bit old at this point, I think I’d like to reiterate it by comparing the opening seconds of Everything in its Right Place to that of TKOL’s opener, Bloom. EIIRP opens with this ultimately simple electronic line that feels cold and robotic, and while Bloom’s opening moments are still obviously electronic, they’re clearly made of something more lifelike. And by that, I mean it sounds a lot like a heavily edited, chopped, and looped piano line, one that folds itself into the very genuine percussion loops that follow. It’s a difference of tone, this life against the coldness of silica, even though the two are obviously both computer-made.
I don’t think Bloom truly comes into its own until that bassline comes in. Fortunately, it only takes like a minute for that to happen, with the incredibly ethereal and reverb-y vocals soon to follow. The bass is ultimately incredibly simple, but it adds such a grounding to the other instrumentation, those rapid, looping, high-pitched tracks that go on and on et cetera. And then you get about a two-thirds of the way in and the brass and strings come in that I had entirely forgotten about, but are so pretty, during the bridge (?), it’s genuinely quite lovely.
I wouldn’t call Bloom a banger, because it’s not that type of song. But at the same time, Bloom is a banger, basically.
By comparison, Morning Mr Magpie feels much more organic, in that more of the instrumentation being looped is acoustic/”real”. There’s a very delicate and deliberate guitar strum that the song is built around, with a similar but looser bassline meandering around in the background as it goes. MMM is much more built around the vocals than Bloom was (apparently the bass and vocals were the last things to be added to that track), more concrete images developed, and an actual verse/chorus/verse/chorus structure which feels a little strange on an album like this.
The instrumentation on this track feels anxious, the guitar and percussion reminding me of drumming my fingers on the table in impatience or nerves, but it’s so uncomfortable that it can’t get it perfectly rhythmic.
And frankly, this song does make me uncomfortable. You see, magpies in the UK have an association with thievery, collecting, and having an eye for shiny things. In Australia, magpies are associated with pecking people’s eyeballs out. So there’s a bit of a disconnect between countries and species is what I’m saying.
At some point I had decided that Little by Little was my favourite song on TKOL, and while I can’t really justify that, but I will (for now) stand by it. It’s got some excellent instrumentation- jingly background loops sounding like a machine, or even a bicycle, giving the track a sense of motion. Meanwhile, the bass is just absolutely killer, somehow both intricate and simple-sounding, notes that sound almost the same but aren’t quite. The lyrics are nursery-esque, with rhyming pairs and idioms aplenty. “Little by little by hook or by crook/I’m such a tease and you’re such a flirt” is a really fun couple of lines, even if they really don’t have the same meaning outside of context as they do inside.
Every time I think I’ve heard everything there is to hear in this song, there’s more to surprise me. The different guitar lines, the background noises, rising instrumental and sinking vocals. Underrated, methinks.
Track 4 is the shortest song of the shortest album, Feral. Not so much lyrics in this, as snippets of heavily edited vocalisations- they might say something, but you’re sure as hell not going to figure that out listening to it. The song is heavily percussion-driven, to the point where there are long spans of it where the looping drums are the only instrumentation actually present. More electronic white noise comes in later, getting louder and harsher, as the vocal snippets increase in frequency and variability, but there’s always those drums, keeping on keeping on.
Feral is kind of in an odd spot, frankly, because it is one of hose tracks that’s fine, it’s good¸ but I genuinely cannot imagine being in the mood to listen to it. It’s tightly wound, almost stressful, but what little is added on doesn’t especially cater to that mood. I think there’s some comparison to be made to The Gloaming, of all things, though I think I like that track better than this one.
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The one single from the album is Lotus Flower, and if you haven’t watched that music video…fucking, do it? Thom is just iconic in this one, channeling memetic levels of weirdo-dance. Lotus Flower makes the best choice for single on this record, being both the most past-Radiohead-y, and the most traditional song-y track on the record, somehow. Thom’s falsetto is at its peak here, utterly gorgeous in performance and presentation, with loops on some of the held notes that in some cases only just reveal themselves as artificial.
This is not to discredit the instrumental, with the best Radiohead use of handclaps since 15 Step (to my knowledge, the previous iteration of this), an electronic instrumental that would probably make a much sadder song were it not for the vocals and the groovy bassline. Seriously, the bass makes this piece genuinely danceable, it’s incredible.
…man, look at him go.
Every time I hear Codex I think it’s the last song on the album, and I always have to remind myself, no, it’s not that short, come on. This slow, sad, piano ballad (?) echoes previous album closers while still feeling incredibly TKOL, its piano being reminiscent of Videotape, brass coming in like Life in a Glasshouse, and utterly down vocals akin to any number of Radiohead’s finest. Some of the lyrics are actually very reminiscent of Pyramid Song, imagery of, well, jumping into bodies of water, but as that track’s river was full of tragedy and memory, Codex’s clear lake is, apparently, clear and innocent.
I was thinking about that album-closer comment before I heard the section of the track that comes in at 3:35, with wavering strings that feel incredibly like Kid A, like Motion Picture Soundtrack and How to Disappear Completely.
I should probably stop comparing Codex to other Radiohead songs, though. It does stand on its own without those, a beautiful, melancholic song. It is incredibly chill, muted even, the kind of song to float in the water to, staring up at the stars. It’s down, but it’s not in pain, if that makes sense? Like, the vibe I get from it is of acceptance, and of moving past what’s holding one down- something you repeat in your head while you’re deep in the shit.
Wait that’s just How to Disappear Completely again, fuck.
Moving on, Give up the Ghost opens with, of all things, birdsongs. It’s actually an acoustic guitar ballad to pair with Codex’s piano ballad, multiple iterations of the instrument layered over each other in a natural but artificial soundscape. The vocals do the same, with the lead harmonising with a backing refrain of “don’t haunt me” to give this relatively gentle track a sense of desperation, almost (I’ve seen it written as “don’t hurt me” in some places but…come on, listen to it, also it is Give up the Ghost after all).
Give up the Ghost is another very chill track that you can just lean into and relax by. Even as it gets more complex and layered as it goes, with another background vocal layer edited in the background steadily getting fuzzed and less comprehendible, the song doesn’t stop being what it is. That acoustic line doesn’t stop vibing, the tempo doesn’t pick up, it is more than content to stay right where it is. And it’s a comfortable stop.
The album’s final track is Separator, and it is frankly one that I always forget. Despite being the actual track closer (sorry again, Codex), it doesn’t have that impact that tracks like Street Spirit (Fade Out) or A Wolf at the Door do. Ironically, this might make it the most fitting closer for The King of Limbs, considering the largely relaxed, ambient nature of the album.
There isn’t honestly that much to divulge about Separator that you wouldn’t have guessed from the album that precedes it. It’s got looping tracks, layered vocals, and this one really satisfying electronic note that hits every couple seconds that I quite like. About halfway through, a patently lovely guitar line comes in, one of the few I can definitively think of that are relatively downtempo but that I could still describe as “bright”. With all the stuff going on at once, the song does end up a bit of a mess at times, as these different elements that have been present in different pieces of the song blend together for a bit of an echoey jumble, but it does resolve itself before long. After that, the song and album’s final minute or so is surprisingly simple, with the track effectively picking the handful of lines it wants to hang on to, one of the vocal tracks and one of the ambient effects and one of the percussion lines, and lets them run their course, the album ending on an echo of the track that once was.
That completes The King of Limbs, an album named after a tree in England, by the way. It always bugs me when I see this one near the bottom of people’s tier lists, because it really just doesn’t miss. It’s the product of a band that’s been working and experimenting for two decades, and it really shows the fruits of that labour. It’s quite the band that can put out something like Bloom immediately after an album with tracks like Bodysnatchers and Jigsaw Falling Into Place, and have both work.
The King of Limbs was the last album that came out before I got into Radiohead, so naturally, I basically didn’t listen to it for several years. I kinda went piece by piece into their discography, and I hadn’t had it as heavily recommended to me as others. But it easily stands just as tall as those other albums, even if it’s technically a little shorter.
For the record, I haven’t decided if I’m going to cover TKOL RMX 1234567 yet. It is listed next to all the rest of them on any collection of their albums, and it’s a perfectly respectable piece of Radiohead canon, and I did want to cover all the non-main-album stuff at some point. On the other hand, it is just a remix album, I’ve kinda been going through the main stuff chronologically, and also I’ve never listened to it.
So basically, we’ll see! And you’ll see, next week, whether we go straight to A Moon Shaped Pool or deviate a bit for some capitalised numerical action.
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Iced Cafe Mocha : Favorite thing to do on rainy days? (( mk11 hanzo ))
Cafe Asks ☕️ || anonymous, methinks it’s @yetremains || accepting
Iced Cafe Mocha : Favorite thing to do on rainy days?
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The world remains doused in melancholy gray and humidity that hangs in the air, heavier than his worry and stress; overwhelming and inescapable, all at once. The constant pitter-patter of little droplets soaking the effulgent rose gardens should lull the exhausted Shirai Ryu Grandmaster back to sleep, in nature’s finest lullaby, and yet, Hanzo Hasashi’s mind wanders aimlessly, going nowhere and yet everywhere. And it seems as though the world as slowed, time passing lazily, growing lethargic and quiet. For one precious moment, the rain speeds up, and the world slows down, and he is left alone with his thoughts and the melody of mother nature's tears. If it was a decade ago, the grieving husband and father may have shed tears along with the world, but in his halcyon peace, which becomes exquisitely beautiful and cherished in his strife and disquietude, he takes a long inhalation, appreciating the smell of wet clay in the air.
“All the rain, turmoil, thunder, lightning seem to mimic the proverbial pain, grief, love, release I still hold in my heart. I find comfort in staying inside and doing some necessary chores - whether it be cooking timeless Japanese recipes, polishing and sharpening my daisho, plunging into the fathomless depth of meditation and controlling my chi, but most favorite activity of mine seems to be practicing my calligraphy and sumi-e painting with a warm teacup next to the small table.” A gentle, perked-up smile follows, painting his rubicund skin in settled mirth and contentment.
“The downpour lulls me into a state of glorious daydreaming, and I feel at peace in sharpened focus and concentration. Then it would come the thunder, in tandem with my expressive stroke as I pay respect to Harumi’s feature as I paint her jawline; a graceful rumble telling me how alive I am, how alive the sky is, and how lucky I am to hear it,” after all, Hanzo Hasashi should be thankful that he has archives of memories, both good and bad, to reflect upon and draw his sagacious knowledge. As a survivor, Grandmaster Hasashi knows to appreciate every little things that come in his life as a gift.
"Rain itself brings me a momentary flash of another world entirely, lighting my vision with a subdued glow. it all comes together, and it feels like I am living in tangible memory manifested alive. It is such a precious and valuable time for reflections and contemplations, knowing that I still have what it takes to remember, retain, and respect those that have passed before me, so that I could shine a light towards a newfound future to the current Shirai Ryu warriors who devote in protecting Earthrealm, and to trust me as their leader, commander, and Grandmaster.” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||
#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#✗ an innocuous unknown (anonymous messages)#anonymous#yetremains
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Woke up with the bridge of this song firmly lodged in my head - or specifically, that sublime little chunk of “I think I’ll float around her house (float around her house)/And tell her exactly how she makes me glow”. What makes that part so incredible is Colin Moulding’s background vocals - both their warm, golden quality and the way they follow Andy’s. It’s amazing how they can take thoughts and sensations, and translate them into music. Here, I sort of envision Colin’s vocals as a manifestation of Andy’s inner spirit, as they seem to glow with the same inner fire that the lyrics describe.
I’d like to take a moment to say how much I love Colin’s singing. Both he and Andy vastly improved over the course of their career, but Colin’s voice got so good that by the end of it, I would unequivocally call him a great singer. He’s excellent on his own stuff, and just as good when harmonizing with Andy, giving his tunes a certain sparkle. (His finest moment is on “Bungalow”, a song I don’t seem to have ever reviewed - how?!)
Anyway, coming back to this one, I’m actually sorta meh on it overall. It’s not their worst, but certainly not their best, with a clumsy rhythm and lackluster production (too much treble, methinks). But that particular couplet is absolute genius.
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The Tea Times - May 2020
Normally, I’d use this little intro box to joke about the events in the news in a lighthearted we’re-all-gonna-die kind of a way, but that doesn’t really feel right at the moment. It’s been a very charged month, with the virus and injustice making the rounds. I hope everyone is keeping safe while they fight for what’s right.
On the games side of things, it's been a little threadbare on the news front, as tends to be the way as we move into summer. Things should hopefully pick up next month with things like the IGN Summer of Gaming kicking in. Oh and if you’re wondering what happened to April’s news, then I forgot. Simple as that. Whoops.
At a Glance
Mafia II and III: Definitive Editions, Maneater, Minecraft Dungeons and Shantae and the Seven Sirens released.
Paper Mario: The Origami King, Sherlock Holmes Chapter One, Blue Fire announced.
Yakuza: Like A Dragon is coming to PC!
Pyramid Head breaks his way into Dead by Daylight!
Rumour mill: The Simpsons: Hit and Run!
Blizzcon officially cancelled!
Ubisoft taking on Apple and Google!
The Releases
A big chunk of the releases in May were remasters or games that had otherwise been packaged together. I wouldn’t normally talk about them but there has been quite a lot of buzz about the definitive editions of Mafia II and Mafia III. I’ve played Mafia II and enjoyed my time with it but I wouldn’t say it was due a definitive edition ten years later but here we are. Unfortunately, the definitive editions have been plagued with performance issues. If you want to wade in yourself, then the Definitive Editions hit Windows, PlayStation 4 and Xbox on the 19th May.
From the mobsters of the real world to the mobsters (probably) of the sea: sharks. If you’ve ever felt you have too few teeth and wondered how human beings taste, then give Maneater a whirl and possibly seek therapy. Maneater pits you as a shark in a vicious battle of revenge against the hunter who killed your mother. A lot of innocent people will die in the process but that’s nature, baby. It was released on Windows, PlayStation 4 and Xbox One on the 22nd May and will release on the Switch later this year.
One of more highly anticipated releases this month was Minecraft Dungeons, the isometric hack’n’slash set in the Minecraft world. Honestly, I didn’t really believe it was an actual game up until release but it is. It seems to be as fun and chill as Minecraft is but with less crafting and more hitting things. One to break out with friends, methinks. If it’s your bag, it was released on PC, Switch, PlayStation 4 and Xbox One on May 26th.
I never had much to do with the Shantae series but it clearly struck a note with people because we’re now on to the fifth game in the series, Shantae and the Seven Sirens. Technically it’s been out since last year but on mobile devices and in parts by the look of it. Bit odd, but the whole package is now out if you fancy some more platforming, transforming and… dancing I guess. It came to PC, Xbox One, PlayStation 4 and the Switch on May 28th 2020.
The Announcements
In a fairly shocking turn of events, Nintendo announced Paper Mario: The Origami King, which was surprising enough but more than that, it’s coming as early as July 17th. Funnily enough, it features an origami twist as Mario characters are folded into new and interesting shapes. It’s not that unusual for Nintendo to pull this kind of move but I wouldn’t have thought that Paper Mario would have that kind of draw anymore. Still, my fingers are crossed that this is going to be a return to form following the failure lacklustre Sticker Star and (reportedly) Colour Splash. The trailer maybe hints at some turn based stuff! Here’s hoping!
For those that like a mystery, then you may like Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One. It seems that the biggest mystery of all, Sherlock himself, is about to be unravelled. Presumably anyway, I never really had much of a dalliance with the deerstalker detective. Still, the Sherlock Holmes series has gained a firm reputation over the years and Chapter One is still in the reliable hands of Frogware. It will be out in 2021.
On the prettier side of things, there’s Blue Fire. It’s a heavily Zelda inspired game about trekking across a desolated kingdom, poking your nose into all of its secrets. It has a nice clean artstyle, reminiscent of something like A Hat in Time, with some slashy combat on top. It looks pretty good, though I’m less keen on the shadow monster enemy design. It should be coming out this summer.
Dragon Itself To PC!
The Yakuza series has been unfortunately tied to the PlayStation for quite some time now. While the first few in the series have been remastered for PC, entries three to seven are still PlayStation exclusive. My ways of knocking people out with bowls of noodles are severely limited. Hopefully, however, there’s now a bit more light at the end of the tunnel.
The latest in the series, Yakuza: Like A Dragon, will now be coming to PC. It specified Windows 10 but it should hopefully be supported by all operating systems. Like A Dragon is peculiar in that it is turn based, unlike the action focus the rest of the series has, but seems to maintain the madcap vibe. I’m hoping it sells like hotcakes, so SEGA will have more incentive to release the rest of the Yakuza series on PC. It should be out later this year either way.
Unexpected Pyramid Head
If I made a news piece about everyone that got added to Dead by Daylight then you would get mighty sick of it. In this case though, someone notable has been added: Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill series. The physical representation of the protagonist from Silent Hill 2’s irrepressible sexual desires. He’s evolved beyond that nowadays though, arguably being the face (of sorts) of the survival horror genre. Maybe it was only a matter of time until he was absorbed into Dead by Daylight’s roster.
What is notable about this is that the Silent Hill series has been pretty firmly closed. After the much anticipated Silent Hills fell through, so Konami could focus on making pachinko machines and burning money, the series has been stagnant. Let's be honest, it was pretty rough times before that with games like Silent Hill: Homecoming but PT gave us all hope. Having Pyramid Head suddenly appear in the public eye is a bit odd.
He’ll be released next month. His skillset seems to be around map manipulation as he drags his big old sword along the ground. He can also put people in the Cage of Atonement, which is a special hook. Sounds nice.
Rumour Mill: Hitting and Running
Originally there were two rumours this month but then Like A Dragon got confirmed so that leaves us with just the one: The Simpsons: Hit and Run may be getting a remaster. It’s a much beloved game, for good reason as it allows people to Grand Theft Auto their way across The Simpsons world. A remaster for PC and modern day consoles would go down a treat, seeing as The Simpsons still seems to be going strong.
Of course, this should be taken with a grain of salt. Actually, seeing as the rumour came from just a reddit post you can take it with a giant truckload of salt. Still, it would be nice. The same post also comments on a new entry in the Sleeping Dogs series (which would be fantastic), the Far Cry series, Tomb Raider and, rather unfortunately, Just Cause 5. Hopefully they’ve learned a few things on that one.
Oh and Mad Max II, which would be pretty sweet given how the first one was kind of swept under the rug.
Blizzcon Is Blizz-gone
Blizzard’s big convention, Blizzcon, will not be happening this year. As news goes, it’s not particularly revolutionary but it is still sad to see. I know a lot of people would have been looking forward to getting together with likeminded people and playing some games together as well as seeing what’s going on inside the Blizzard skunkworks.
They’re looking into online ways of contacting people, so at least something of the convention can carry on but I’m afraid you’ll likely have to wait until next year if you were hoping to meet up with some friends.
A Legal Assissination
Here’s something that I wasn’t expecting. Ubisoft, purveyors of the finest assassinations and less than fine game clients, are taking on the twin giants of Apple and Google. Sounds like a bit of a self-assassination to me but you’ve got to protect your IP somehow I suppose. The issue surrounds Rainbow Six Siege, Ubisoft’s immensely popular online tactical shooter. A group called Alibaba created a game called “Area F2” which seems to be a straight rip-off of Rainbow Six Siege. Right down to the menu icons by the look of it.
Ubisoft’s lawsuit is therefore directed at Apple and Google for allowing Area F2 to be sold in their stores. It looks like a pretty legitimate claim to be honest, as that’s plagiarism to a laughable degree. Ubisoft did notify them by the sounds of it but they haven’t done anything about it. Best keep an eye on this storm as it develops.
That’s all for May, see you in June!
#Paper Mario#The Origami King#Simpsons Hit And Run#far Cry#Tomb Raider#Mad Max II#Minecraft Dungeons#Mafia II#Mafia III#Just Cause 5#Sherlock Holmes#Shantae#Maneater#Yakuza Like A Dragon#Gaming#The Tea Times#Tea And Video Games
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Book Love part 3 - Rum (Brothers Book 1)
Rum was the third book novel in the fantasy world of Dahrè. It was originally meant to be a short story about a member of Golden Boots crew while I tried to figure out what was going on between Sari and Jayd (they were being stubborn at that time, their book, their story refusing to be written). The short story idea didn’t work out. At just over 100K Rum definitely wasn’t a short story.
Rum also became the first book in the Brothers trilogy, because the moment I began writing about Rum and Suede, the more Rum and Suede had to tell me, which meant that Rum’s twin brother had just as much to say and the two of them together had even more to say. But that’s a different book, two different books actually.
Rum and Suede’s story turned out to be may be a tad fluffy. The two of them, each with their own issues, slowly learning of each other with family and friends rooting them on while distant family tried to kill them. The story introduced more of the Boots clan (several of Golden Boots’ brothers, an uncle, a cousin or two, as well a couple of nephews) and brought back Golden Boots himself, Betrys and Rayn, and of course Golden Boots parents, Red Boots and Vylla van Jyn.
With that said:
[Image ID: Image of two, three mast ships, each tied at pier with the word Rum written across it]
Waking up hungover and married to the man he’s been lusting after isn’t what has Rum worried, it’s the folks trying to kill them that’s the problem. Oh, and having to deal with his twin brother’s sudden disappearance isn’t helping.
Captain Suede Boots is intrigued by the man in bed with him, even if he doesn’t recall marrying him. Learning that his new husband’s estranged family desires to kill them, awakens a strong desire to protect what is his.
Story contains strong language and explicit sex.
102,000 words
Amazon / Smashwords / Kobo / Apple / BN
A preview of Rum can be found under the cut.
“What do you think we ought do once we find the bastards who tried to kill us?” Rum looked up from the cards in his hands—Suede had summoned one of the card tables from storage for them to use and set it up in the bedchamber to keep others from interrupting their game. He studied Suede’s face, looking for the clues that would tell him if he were lying about the cards in his hands.
Card playing with pirates was a whole different game of chance. When one played with pirates, there was always cheating, but that was the object of the game: to cheat—the one who cheats best and often, wins the game. Now, cheating might be the point, but there was one single rule that was always to be obeyed while at the table: cheat if ye will, but never get caught—it ruins the game and nae one wants to play with a cheater.
“Other than kill them?” Suede still felt a grievous wound to his pride, to his worth as a man for not protecting his husband, allowing him to be injured, nearly killed, on the first day of their marriage. He wished to remove the curs from existence for it.
“’Twould not be proper to kill them upon land. Pirates we are, ‘tis not something we do, aye?”
“Aye, ‘tis so; pirates fight not upon the land, but curs they are.”
Rum rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, ridding himself of an itch. “That does offer us more options.”
“Many options. Doubt I do that Chastain would mind how we removed them from Ganos as long as they are gone.” Suede tossed in two debloo, upping the ante. Despite playing for various favors—some sexual, some not—it would be scandalous not to play for coin. He was certain he had this hand, though he had to admit that Rum was a fine card player and produced very few tells, because of this, they were even in various favors.
“Much thought does this need, though mayhap Red has been thinking of a plan. Now that Mack knows of the situation, he and Red will be conferring and have something when we venture below on the morrow.” Rum matched the raise of coin and tossed in three of his own. Suede had tapped his cards with his middle finger and Rum had noticed that he only did so when he was a card off of a proper hand.
“Mentioned Red did that not only are ye a master navigator, ye are a master tactician; I see not why ye are unable to formulate a plan.”
Rum looked at Suede, uncertain what he should think of that. “Why would he say such a thing when always do I need time to think?”
Suede snorted and added once more to the pot. “’Tis yer lack of confidence speaking and only that. A tactician needs not rush.”
“But upon the sea, one must always be quick upon one’s feet, that I need time…”
“First, my husband, we are upon land and in nae rush. Second, ‘tis a lie ye tell yerself. When charting courses, ye use yer knowledge of tides and currents, weather patterns, aye?”
“Aye, of course.”
“Then what happens when weather suddenly changes, or when there is an attack, do ye say ye freeze? Or do ye make adjustments to the course?”
Rum stared at his cards, but he was not seeing them, the straight flush he was holding, he was searching through the last seventeen years of memories. Had he froze? He could not recall for each instance… “Well, there are adjustments to be made.”
“But do ye freeze, or do ye automatically start adjusting?” Suede could see Rum’s mind working. “The voice of doubt clouds ye, but methinks ye are the sort to rush to adjust. Red would not sing yer praises were ye to be the sort to freeze. Besides, were ye not the one who wished to sneak into the Minister Prime’s bedchamber and hold a dagger to his throat?”
“Aye, but…”
“How were ye going to go about it? A navigator always notes the surroundings, as does a tactician. In that regard, one such as yerself who, as a child and now as an adult, had a need to constantly be looking about them, always searching for the best route to escape, would have seen all the finest routes within moments. Do ye disagree?”
“Nae. Always am I aware of what goes on about me and where I am, at least usually.”
“Do ye then say ye were not serious about that mission, of forcing the Minister Prime to speak?”
“I was most serious.” Rum forced himself to slow his breathing, to control the runaway cadence of his heart. “Aye, a plan I had and only needed a quick scout of the grounds to bring it to fruition. This is different.”
“How is forming a plan to rout the curs different? Ye know the layout of Ganos, ye know what yer aim is, there is nae reason to believe ye are incapable of making such a plan.” Suede held up his hand to stop Rum from cutting himself down further. “All of us have faith in ye, my love. Besides, plenty of time there is to formulate this plan and, aye, the family will have thoughts on how to go about it, but mostly are they there for support.” He used that hand to motion to the pile of debloos in the center of the table. “Do ye match the bet or fold?”
Rum picked up several coins, matching Suede’s bet, and tossed them onto the pile. “To truly formulate this plan, I need know where my cousins are hiding and their usual paths of travel. Once I know that, ‘twill be a simple matter.”
Suede nodded, pleased. “Aye, I agree. Hopefully soon we hear from Chastain and Ilora on their findings.” Suede tapped his cards again wondering what sort of hand Rum held and if he could bluff this match. “Do we now discuss favors? Methinks we have added enough gold to the pile.”
“What do you think of sneaking out of the manor and going to Mistress Horn’s? Desire I do a box of her chocolate custard pastries. Mayhap we can purchase Vylla a box of her favorite sweetbuns while we are there.”
“A sweet tooth do ye have, love?”
He grinned. “One would think you would have realized that when I stole your piece of pie after lunch was brought up.”
“Married I am to a thief.”
“Nae, a pirate!” Rum was pleased with the way playing cards was turning out. Yes, they were mainly playing for sexual favors, but it was also relaxing for they were using some of the favors to ask questions and learn of the other—for instance, he found out that Suede enjoyed cooking and desired to fix them a meal. He also liked that they were naked while playing—’twas the first favor Suede had won and claimed.
“Methinks ye avoid discussing the next favor because ye hold a terrible hand. That ye won the previous hand ‘tis yer turn to suggest—as was agreed upon after the very first hand—but if ye want, gladly will I decide.”
“I avoid naught, you rotten rogue.”
“Then what do we play for?”
“The loser of this hand has to buy the pastries I wish for, plus has to pay for the next three jaunts to the bakery nae matter the time of day and what is ordered.”
Suede laughed, liking the silly request, and tapped his cards one last time. “What of the winner, what does he get?”
“Other than many free pastries?”
“Aye. Recall ‘tis favors we play for.”
Rum tapped his cards against his chin. He had already once suggested tying the other up, but Suede had disagreed. He smiled. “An undisclosed sexual favor with nae expiration. It matters not the time or place and can even be collected in the middle of town. Also, the loser has to comply, nae matter the request. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Rum tossed his cards down. “Be prepared to supply me with pastries, my husband.”
Staring at the cards Rum just presented, his jaw slack, Suede was unable to believe he had been out-cheated…again.
--
© A. Jane
Book Love: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
#© A. Jane#A. Jane#book promotion#my writing#Rum#Brothers Trilogy#Brothers Book 1#fantasy romance#pirates#Book Love#story snippet#Rum - Brothers Book 1
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You're killing me with the stories!! How about another lonashipping❣️ if youre up for it? I actually didn't even start shipping lonashipping until I read ur last story and now I'm going on a reading binge of your stories lol
Send in a ❣️ for a random kiss (or just send me a # and a ship!)
Ahhh that makes me so happy to hear!! Hope you don’t mind this weird AU (and that it gets a little saucy at the end whoa)
15. a quick kiss
When Moon applied for a position as a research assistant, working with a stuffy Ph.D. candidate with a short fuse was far from her first choice.
She’d heard the dazzling stories of undergrads who worked directly with Professor Kukui in zoology, spending days out in the field and going on to award-winning discoveries. She marveled at the tales of students who worked under Dr. Burnet in astrophysics, traveling across the islands and spending nights at Hokulani Observatory to witness astronomical marvels firsthand.
What she got was late nights in a tiny office with Gladion.
Moon is seriously considering dropping out.
The only upside is that the office has a particularly comfy armchair that she’s made her home as she works on her laptop, typing up reports and poring over data – Gladion declared that he’s more than capable of handling the “real work,” and that the only thing he could really trust a measly undergrad with is the menial tasks.
Still, it’s not a totally bad gig. The work they’re doing is rather interesting, and directly applies to her Environmental Science major – maybe most people don’t find water management fascinating, but Moon can’t think of many other ways she’d rather be spending her Friday nights. Now that they’re approaching two months working together, he’s also started to give her more meaningful work to do. It helps that she’s more than capable and has also saved his ass a few times since he has a bad habit of working quickly and not backing up his files (and she’s meticulous with a hard drive). And she’s gotten quite used to their battle of wits, to the point that she finds herself daydreaming about possible retorts in her classes.
Not that they’re really friends. He’s said so himself, multiple times, making sure to emphasize his seniority (of barely five years) and their relationship (strictly professional). Moon only rolls her eyes whenever he brings it up, content to simply mutter, “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” which shuts him up and gets them back to working, if not with a strange shift in the air between them.
But it’s late on a Tuesday night when she realizes just what kind of trouble they’re really in.
She yawns from her spot on the armchair, sitting cross-legged with her laptop open to last week’s collection of data. Gladion looks over at her, the dark circles under his eyes evident as he smirks. “Past your bedtime?”
“It’s past yours, too, Grandpa.” He frowns at the nickname, which she came up with when he brought up their age difference (again, five years) for the dozenth time. Moon glances at the clock on her laptop, groaning when she realizes it’s past midnight and she has yet to finish this report. It’s been a rough week for both of them, her having to balance her other classwork, and him having a deadline approaching to apply for more funding. She thought it would surely drive them to each other’s throats; strangely, it’s brought out a more endearing side in both of them as they struggle to stay up together, working on the one thing they both love.
Gladion pauses in his typing, sitting back in his chair and closing his eyes. Moon tries not to stare, but she finds her eyes tracing the cut of his jawline, and the two piercings that line his ears that he refuses to tell her the story behind no matter how much she asks. When his eyes open once more she forces her gaze back on her screen – she’s staring because she’s tired and zoning out, obviously, but there’s no doubt he’d tease her relentlessly anyway. He sighs, glancing over at her in her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt. “At least you thought ahead and didn’t wear anything nice.”
She gives him an unimpressed glare. “At least you wore all black so that you won’t have to change.”
“Change for what?”
“Your funeral, since this deadline is about to slaughter you.”
He blinks, sleep deprivation slowing his mind.
Then he laughs, honest to god laughs, and Moon feels something strange stir within her.
Something worryingly…pleasant.
“That’s true enough,” he muses, and she’s wondering why he doesn’t try to come up with an argument instead. It’s not like him to admit that she’s right, much less laugh along with her jabs thrown at him, but then she reasons they’re both in a strange emotional state from a week of late nights. With the laughter out of his system, he seems to sober up a little, sitting up and going back to his computer. “If it weren’t for my own illegible notes, we might be able to go home earlier.”
“Betrayed by your own shorthand?”
“Don’t act so smug when you can barely decipher your own handwriting.”
He tries to hide his smile, but she can tell he’s proud at the crack, and she has to admit it’s a good one as she chuckles behind her laptop screen. Realizing she can barely focus on the words she’s typing, she rubs at her eyes and feels the coffee machine down the hall calling her name. She stands and stretches, her back aching and her legs relieved to finally be in use again.
“Going somewhere?” he asks, forcing his eyes to remain on his computer screen and not on the strip of skin that’s revealed when her arms stretch above her head.
She nods. “Getting coffee. You want some?”
“From the disgusting machine in the sad excuse for a kitchen?”
“No, from the finest café in Kalos because either of us have standards.”
“…make it a double espresso.”
She smirks, about to walk out of the office when he calls, “Moon?” She turns with a hum, watching as he stares at his notepad with furrowed brows. When he looks back up, he’s no less confused as he asks, “What do you think ‘cul eut’ stands for?”
Chewing her cheek, she gives it a moment of thought but ultimately shrugs. “Not sure.”
“Figured. Oh, and bring some sugar packets.”
As she walks down the hall, she can’t get the odd shorthand out of her head. The phrase haunts her as she starts up the ancient coffee machine, grabbing the two cleanest mugs she can find in the cabinets and stuffing her pockets with sugar packets. As her mug fills with plain black coffee, she mulls over “cul eut” so much that it starts to seem like an ancient Latin phrase that she’s deciphering, rather than another example of Gladion’s strange note-taking.
It’s one of many odd things about the Ph.D. candidate that Moon has grown accustomed to. There’s also the way he insists on black coffee only to load it up with sugar. Then there’s how he seems to be unimpressed with everyone yet speaks so fondly of his sister that Moon feels her heart clench from secondhand adoration. Who could forget the time she caught him smiling at photos of his rescue dog and forced him to tell her all about Silvally? And then there’s the way he concentrates on especially difficult problems, how his brows furrow in concentration and he bites down on his thumb or his bottom lip, and she imagines how he might do the same to her neck and -
And oh no.
Oh, please god no.
She cannot be having an existential crisis about the uptight Ph.D. candidate in the crappy kitchen in the graduate studies offices. But here she is, only snapped out of it by the coffee machine groaning as it finishes pouring his double espresso, and she hurries to shut the machine off and walk back down the hall, trying to outrun the thoughts of how cute he is sometimes and no stop that he’s insufferable and her boss kind of.
Desperate to find anything to focus on instead, her mind goes back to “cul eut,” trying to decipher the code as if her life depends on it. The more she mulls it over, the less certain she is that she’ll ever be able to figure it out, until she reaches the office once more and sets down their mugs only for the realization to hit her with a wave of relief.
“Cultural eutrophication.”
Gladion jumps in his chair, startled by the way she slams the mugs on his desk and the sudden outburst. “What?”
“Your notes.” The sudden discovery coupled with the sudden crisis has her nearly hysterical at this point – she’s gone through the whole range of human emotion in the past ten minutes alone. With a smile that borders on manic she lets out an astonished chuckle and repeats, “Cultural eutrophication. Cul eut.”
His lips part in shock, and he hurries to look through his notes, flipping the pages and reciting the words silently before looking back up at her with a grin that has no business bringing out his dimples. “You’re right. My god, you’re right!”
She smirks, opens her mouth to say something snarky, and he stands, goes to try and thank her, and then something inexplicable happens.
.
It’s half a second long but there’s no denying what just happened.
.
He kissed her. Just a quick peck on the corner of her mouth, but he kissed her nonetheless in his rush of gratitude and the haze of a late night in his office.
“Oh,” she breathes, fighting the urge to touch the spot because she swears she can still feel his lips there (and by god does she want to feel it again).
“Oh,” he whispers, realizing that he’s lost any hope in hiding his attraction to the undergrad (and that he really couldn’t hope to keep it up much longer anyway).
They stare. They think they should ignore it. They should laugh it off, chalk it up to a weird night and go back to their very comfortable, very safe routine of quips and hidden glances.
But then her back hits the wall and his lips crash into hers and her fingers are in his hair and she only manages to gasp out, “Oh.”
Oh no.
But oh finally.
#kiss meme#anon#lonashipping#join the club friend!!! we're a v supportive community and glad to have you!!!#also so honored that you took the time to read and i could convert you lol#'it gets saucy' as in i barely allude to a makeout between two adults omg#moon is around 21 here and gladbag is 26#also help im starting to really like this au#if i actually wrote it this would be around the middle probs#wrote this while procrastinating on a paper don't follow my example kiddos
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To the Hilt - 1/13
Dean Winchester/Original Female Character
Summary: When they run into her for the fourth time in a fourth state, Sam and Dean don't think it's a coincidence anymore. Maybe they kidnap her to get to the bottom of things. Maybe they accidentally put her on a path of destruction. Maybe Dean falls in love with her a little. Serves her right for stalking them, to be honest.
3210 Words
Chapters: You are here - 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Read it on ao3
Chapter 1: The Cosmos Are Screaming in the Ears of Angels
When Dean first spots her, her presence doesn’t really register. He ends up doing a double take and then a third one.
“Sam, look.” He says, elbowing his brother.
Sam looks up from his laptop and follows Dean’s gaze to the girl sitting at the diner counter. “Is that...? From the Greyson case?”
“Yeah, and from the salt ‘n burn in Sioux Falls.” He adds tapping Sam’s chest with the back of a hand. “C’mon.” He says and begins to cross the diner from the booth they were sat at. Sam follows suit murmuring about having tested her back in Saint Cloud.
“Are you stalking us?” Dean questions in a gruff voice, getting intimidatingly close to the woman.
She slowly turns in her stool eyes wide. “No?” Her brows furrow. “Are you stalking me?”
Dean scoffs and looks at Sam. Can you believe this girl? Stalking her? He scoffs again for added measure before cutting the crap.
“Cut the crap.” His voice is as gruff as ever. No one sees the girl scissoring her fingers under the counter top. Fleetingly, she thinks she’d make a good lesbian. “We saw you in Sioux Falls.”
“And during the case in Saint Cloud.” Sam contributes.
“The case in...” Her brows furrow again before her face clears up in recognition. “Agents Law and Murphy, right?” She exclaims. “Yeah, we spoke in Minnesota. How’d you know I was in Sioux Falls, though?” She looks over her shoulder suspiciously. “Are the feds having me followed?” Her eyes are wide again as she stares at the boys. “Is it because I illegally stream TV shows? Because I illegally download music?” Her eyes get even wider. “Did you guys check my internet history. Look I know it’s wrong but-”
“It has nothing to do with your internet habits.” Sam interrupts.
Dean smirks knowingly.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” A waitress says depositing a monster-sized burger in front of her with a side of fries and the most decadent looking milkshake. She eyes the boys distrustingly since they are, y’know, crowding a girl menacingly, but then just eyes them appraisingly because they are, y’know, gorgeous. With one last look, she leaves, leaving the trio alone.
“Sammy,” Dean starts, foaming at the mouth. “She got an Elvis.”
The girl’s eyes light up. “You know about the Elvis!” She says eyeing her plate, salivating as much as, if not more so than Dean.
“Dean, focus.” Sam reprimands.
Dean clears his throat and begrudgingly tears his eyes away from the feast. “Ain’t no sense in lying to us, sweetheart.”
“What are you?” Sam inquisitions, seeming intimidating for the first time.
The girl hesitates for a moment before finally replying, uncertain. “A blogger?”
“A blogger? What’s that? Like a mutant? If I cut you right here will you ooze green goo?” Dean asks, jumping the gun only a little.
The girl recoils.
“No, Dean, I think she means a blogger. Like online. She has a website.” Sam clarifies, sighing at his brother. However, the suspicion doesn't leave his eyes.
The girl nods vigorously. “Mhmm, yeah, look.” She hands them the notepad neither had noticed on the counter.
“This is just your opinion on food.” Dean deadpans.
“Mhmm, yeah.” She repeats. “It’s a food blog. Well, mostly anyway.”
“So what you just eat different food and write about it online?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“You get paid for it?” Dean asks simultaneously astounded, amazed and jealous. “That’s a job?”
The girl nods and lets out a small airy laugh. “A damn good one at that.”
“It still doesn’t explain why we’ve seen you in two different towns,” Sam starts, shaking his head at his brother. “And, now again, in Nelson city.”
“Not a city. Just Nelson, methinks.” She quips. “Nelson town?” She second guesses herself drawing a sip through the straw of her milkshake, eyes rolling back. She misses Sam’s lighthearted glare at being corrected.
The waitress returns. “Will you boys want your order at your table or will here be alright?” She asks.
“Can we have it to go?” Sam responds.
“You can have whatever you like, sugar.” The waitress, maybe 30 years his senior, winks and sways her hips while walking away.
“Stacks on deck, patron on ice, you can have whatever you like.” The girl murmurs and hums, toying with her straw. The waitress would probably rock the fed's world.
Looking back at the boys she sees them have a conversation seemingly consisting solely of facial muscle movements. She’d think it comical if she wasn’t still afraid that the government had peeked at her porn preferences and decided to intervene.
Blog about food. Not the supernatural.
Yeah. And she was clean during the Greyson case in Saint Cloud.
But doubt it’s a coincidence. Suspicious.
Not much we can do, now.
Alright. You should have let me get an Elvis too.
You’re gonna die of a heart attack.
That was that. The boys apologised for bothering her. She said it was no big deal and offered to cover their bill, least she could do for national heroes. They told her they were FBI not military. She said they were New York’s finest and not to let anyone tell them otherwise. Then she grunted the words ‘nine nine’. The boys left.
-
When Robin spots him, Agent Law, her mind zeroes in immediately. She had driven only over an hour after leaving the diner with a belly full of food but unfortunately a tank bare of gas. So she’d stopped at a gas station in Lebanon, Kansas, as one does.
She's leaving the nasty-ass bathroom, regretting not having used the bathroom back at the diner, when she sees him. He’s rounding the corner of the gas station building, maybe to get to the bathroom himself. Maybe to get to the ice machine. Maybe to get to her. Alarms ring in her head because running into someone four times in four different states wasn’t a thing that happened. Which made it clear to her that she was running into something. Immediately she scouts the space for contingency plans, doing her best to dampen the sound of the bells in her head.
He’s distracted looking down at his receipt, a plastic bag and a bucket in hand (one he’ll probably want to use for her guts), so she strikes. She pushes him against the brick wall with more force than she appears to have and has a small switchblade to his neck in a matter of seconds.
Dean is taken off guard but what really startles him is when the girl spits the word ‘Christo’ at him. He attempts to shove her off and is surprised when she shoves him back harder, effectively pinning him.
“What are you? Why are you following me? I’m out of the business dammit.” She speaks calmer than a person pinning a strange man twice her size to a wall, with a knife to his neck, should speak, Dean thinks. Though, as steady as she keeps her voice, her eyes shift distractedly when they aren't squinting at him. It's as if she can't see him clearly despite her face being no more than a few inches away from his.
She’s about to press the knife into his skin, yeah show him I mean business, when a blow to the head knocks her out. She falls into Dean’s arms nicking him just a bit with the blade.
Dean drops her to the ground, carelessly, and raises an eyebrow at his brother. “You hit her with a book?”
“Would you have preferred I did nothing?” Sam suggests mildly irritated.
“I don't know, man, you could have found a rock or something,” Dean replies, touching his neck with the tip of two fingers, feeling a bit of blood there. “Bitch cut me.”
“Somehow, I feel that you’ll get over it.” Sam looks down at the crumpled body on the ground. “What are we thinking? Demon?”
Dean peers down at the girl, as well. She might be around twenty-five. “I don’t know, but we’re taking her to the bunker and finding out. Help me.”
The brothers each grab a pair of limbs, Dean hooking an arm in the handles of his fallen plastic bag, abandoning the bucket he wanted to fill with ice, and they carry her to the trunk of the impala.
“St Cloud. Sioux falls. Nelson city. Nelson town. Whichever. And now fifteen minutes from the bunker? Something is definitely going on.” Sam says, mostly thinking aloud, as he shuffles backwards towards their car.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Look," Dean nods towards the edge of the gas station's lot. "There was a pipe right there. You should have used that.” He grumbles.
All Sam does is roll his eyes. They hadn’t been back at the bunker in weeks, which has made them both more than a little irritable. They had gone out for a case, to keep busy after their mom left the bunker for space and time, and on their way back they kept getting wrapped up in strange hunts. Even the salt ‘n burn Jodie had called them about was supposed to be simple and straightforward before it took a weird turn. Suffice it to say that Sam was looking forward to some down time. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. He sighs and tosses the body in the trunk. He doesn't know it, but he bruises her and when the time comes, she's going to bitch about it.
-
When Robin comes to, she’s cuffed to a chair. Of fucking course. She’s in what appears to be a cellar or sorts, naturally, surrounded by sigils and markings. Her heart sinks as she scans each and every one of them. Relief washes over her as she recognises them all, assured that none of them can hold her. She hears a heavy door open and then a pair of shelves rattle as they're parted. Game face.
“You’re up,” Dean says, entering the room alone, a glint in his eyes.
“I am, Agent Law, was it?” She scoffs.
“Alright, you got me,” Dean responds with a breathtaking smile that's only a little sinister, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Not FBI.”
“No shit, asswipe. So why don’t you tell me what you are, what you want and why I shouldn’t tear you to shreds.” She snaps, a glint of her own in her eyes.
Dean laughs, laughs. “I don’t think you understand how this works. You,” He says pointing at her. “Prisoner. Helpless, weak. At my mercy. Me,” He points to himself. “Holding all the cards.”
“Do you wanna rev your engine too, you pseudo-macho bag of dicks.”
“I just have the one, but it works like a charm, thanks.”
She doesn’t blush because he’s not devastatingly gorgeous and fuck him.
“Could have fooled me.” She jeers eyeing his crotch as if searching for something.
He glares at her. “Alright, alright. Enough foreplay.” He places a metal chair, identical to her own, in front of her, sitting on it backwards to face her. “You’re not a demon, a ghost mid-possession, a werewolf, or any kind of shifter for that matter, a vamp or any other number of things.” He sees her face contort with each monster he names, eyes shifting to the left and right. Her expression smoothes over when he’s done.
“Yeah, I know I’m none of those things.” She says like he’s wasting both of their time.
“Quit smart mouthing me.” A lilt of anger in his tone. “The only reason we’re still talking and I’m not hacking away at you is because I’m not sure if you’re using some poor schmuck as a meat suit.”
She wants to argue that he’s bad at being a villain because he isn’t making much sense but her eyes fall to a table on the far right. It's littered with torture devices and tools, some of her least favourite things. She thinks she is both too young and too old for this crap.
“Look around, sweetheart,” Dean continues. “you’re not getting out of here.”
Is he bragging? “Are you talking about the sigils?” She asks, confused, waving at the room with her head.
He nods with a smirk.
“You know those can’t keep me right?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He demands, irritated. This couldn’t be simple, could it? They couldn't ever just catch a damn break. “What do you mean?” He snaps when she’s too busy looking confused to answer.
“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? These are all for things that go,” She rolls her eyes. “Bump in the night. They don’t trap humans, doucheface.”
“Human? What are you-” Dean is interrupted by another man entering the room.
This one is taller, Agent Murphy. “Did you get anything out of her?”
“She’s claiming she’s human,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. Behind him, Sam rolls his eyes too, and the girl almost laughs at the resemblance.
She doesn't laugh, though, too busy being goddamn shook. “What do you mean claims?” She all but screeches. “If you think I’m not human, why’d you kidnap me if it isn’t to suck my blood or eat my heart or some bullshit?”
“You attacked me.” Dean roars, rising from his seat and tossing the chair aside. He points to the smallest cut ever on his neck.
“Boohoo, Princess.” She derides. “Does your kind not have fast healing?” She tilts her head to the side, faking concern.
“That's it,” Dean says moving towards her and sticking an arm out. “Sam, hand me a knife. Get me the one that spins like a pizza cutter.”
“Wait, wait, Dean.” Sam asserts holding his brother back. “What do you mean ‘your kind’?” He directs the question at the girl.
“What do you mean, what do I mean?” She echoes her earlier words in exasperation. “Is this some kind of new age psychological torture tactic, because I gotta tell you- Wait.” Sam. Dean. They’d referred to each other as Sam and Dean at the diner too. No. No fucking way. They’re not- “Winchester? You’re Sam and Dean Winchester?”
“So you’ve heard of us.” Sam states.
“Who hasn’t?” Dean says earning himself a glare from both present parties. “Instilled the fear of God in you yet, sweetheart?”
“Ew, no.” She quips and Sam laughs which earns him a glare of his own. “No, listen. I think we got mixed up. I’m a hunter too. Or, err, at least I was. I’m definitely human.”
“Mmm sounds fake but okay.” Dean taunts.
“Really?” Sam asks, looking at him incredulously. “I really need to limit your computer access.”
The girl laughs and promptly recoils when Dean takes a step towards her, one hand fisted. He’s only stopped by the hand of his brother on his shoulder. She snickers.
“So you mind giving us your name then?” Sam says. “If you’re a hunter, we’d have heard of you.”
“I’m not- I used to hunt. I stopped about a year and a half ago.”
“Hunter don’t stop hunting.” Dean deadpans.
“Well, I did.” She snaps, then sighs. “My name’s Robin.”
“Haven’t heard of you. Can I kill her, now?”
Sam and Robin roll their eyes.
“You’re gonna need to give us more to work with here. You could easily be trying to play us.” Sam explains, almost too agreeable.
“Probably the case,” Dean mutters.
“Come on, you tested me right?”
“She has a point, Dean. Nothing pointed to her being anything but human.”
“Except the fact that she came at me with a knife.” Dean points to his neck again.
“I thought you had followed me across four fucking states.” She responded, dangerously close to whining. “Look I’m telling you, this is all a big mistake. Call anyone who knew Bobby. I know you guys were close. He wouldn’t shut up about his boys.” She says rolling her eyes, but there’s fondness there. “Most who knew him know me.”
The boys share a look. Then, Sam leaves to check out her story. Dean plops back in the chair, now off to the left.
“Y’know if this doesn’t pan out, I’m really going to enjoy ripping the answers I want out of you.”
“I’m sure you will, Deanold.”
‘Deanold’ He mouths to himself. Does she mean I’m old or is this a twist on Donald?
She laughs. “You’re cute when you’re feeling dejected. Looks good on you.” She winks.
“Y’know what’d look good on you?”
“Tell me.”
“Duct tape.”
She laughs. “I resent that. I’m literally adorable.”
“You’re literally still possibly murderous.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come at me with rolling knives. Any excuse to touch me, I guess.” She replies with a shimmy of her hips. She laughs at the slightest blush that creeps past the collar of his shirt.
He’s about to retort when the door wails open, again.
“Her story checks out,” Sam says, looking solemn.
“Finuh-fucking-ly.” She says bouncing to her feet, cuffs dangling off a finger. “Ouh, think I can keep these?” She asks noticing the warding on them.
Dean is back on his feet just as quick. “How’d you get out of-”
She silences him with a wink. “Wait ‘till you see what I can do with rope.” She presses the restraints into Dean’s hands and struts out of the room.
He’s about to stalk after her when Sam stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Really, he needs to stop fucking doing that.
“Dean, she’s...she’s Robin Fera.” He says looking sad.
“Well, shit.”
-
When the boys leave the cellar it’s to find Robin in the library.
“This place is amazing.” She says looking around. “I guess I don’t have to tell you guys that, huh?” She smiles looking back at them. “I won’t ask too many questions, I know a top secret HQ when I see one, but can you, hmm I don’t know, point me in the direction of my car? Also, I had my phone on me when I was kidnapped.” She puts a hand on her hip and winces. She lifts her t-shirt just a bit to see a bruise forming there. “Seriously? I was unconscious, why’d you feel the need to be brutes.”
Sam gives her a sheepish look and goes to fetch her phone from one of the shelves lining the walls.
Dean smirks. “Looks good on you.”
Instead of retorting like he expects her to, she laughs. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It rattles Dean a bit.
Wings flutter.
“Hey, Cas. We have company. This is-”
“Dean.” Castiel starts with his characteristically deep voice. Robin eyes him. She knew the Winchester had an angel, Bobby had told her all about that too, not to mention the rumours, but to be so close to one that isn't trying to attack her was a whole other thing. “The cosmos are out of balance. They’re screaming in our ears. Our metaphorical ears. It’s deafening.” He deadpans. To the acute observer, the twinge of pain in his features would be obvious.
“Who’s screaming in who’s ears?” Sam asks, returning and handing Robin her phone. She pockets it.
“The cosmos. In the metaphorical ears of the angels. Heaven is in chaos.”
“What else is new?” Dean asks while sighing. Already resigned to what the next few weeks will look like.
Sharply and suddenly, Castiel’s whole body snaps towards Robin. His eyes narrow, sizing her up. It’s as if he’s trying to peer into her soul, she thinks. Can angels do that?
“It’s all because of her.” He adds and hand-to-God points at her. The boys turn to her and she thinks they might be peering into her soul too.
“Well, shit.”
Chapters: You are here - 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
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Creamy Baked Haddock
Fish is something which we really love. We don't eat it near often enough. I am not sure why that is. When we do have it I like to have sustainably sourced cod fish, or haddock and sometimes salmon.
Both of us are allergic to shellfish. Todd really likes Mackerel and sardines. I confess . . . I am not fond of really "fishy" fish. I prefer mild flavoured fish. Salmon is about as strongly flavoured as I will get.
I do love red snapper and red mullet however, and sole. We haven't had sole in a while. Time to rectify that methinks.
Today we had haddock. The Fish Society has it on offer at the moment. Off-cuts that didn't quite make the grade thickness wise to their fillet steaks. Its lovely.
I like buying my fish from The Fish Society actually . . . its quality fish and sustainably sourced, well packaged and fresh. You never know when you are buying fish in the shops just how fresh it is. There used to be a fish monger in our local market, but I find buying it on line from The Fish Society much easier and more trustworthy, which says a lot.
They carry everything from A to Z. Sashimi fresh, sushi grade and of the finest quality. Every time I enjoy a piece of their fish I ask myself why we don't do it more often?
This is a simple dish with delicious flavours. You lay the fish fillets in a baking dish and squeeze some lemon juice over top, seasoning them also with some salt and white pepper. White pepper isn't something I really used until I moved over here. I had always used black before. White pepper actually has a flavour which is quite different than black pepper. Both white and black pepper come from the same plant, but they are processed differently. Black peppercorns are picked when almost ripe, and then sun-dried so that the outer layer turns black. For white pepper the outer layer is removed either before or after drying. White pepper is a bit hotter than black pepper.
Anyways, after seasoning the fish, you grate some Swiss cheese over top and then cover it with a mixture of cream and mustard, and finally a layer of buttered bread crumbs before baking it in the oven until golden brown and perfectly cooked. It doesn't take long, and it is truly delicious! Truly Easy Peasy!
Creamy Baked Haddock
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Yield: 6
Author: Marie Rayner
prep time: cook time: total time:
This is a delicious and quick way to prepare Haddock. Actually you can cook any mild flavoured white fish in this manner. It is so easy and tasty. We love it!
ingredients:
6 haddock fillets
1 lemon
salt and white pepper to taste
200g Emmenthaler cheese, grated (1 3/4 cup, Swiss)
300ml of single cream (1 1/2 cups, half and half)
1 TBS Dijon mustard
1/2 cup soft fresh bread crumbs (1 slice of bread, crumbed)
1 TBS butter, melted
instructions:
Preheat the oven to 180*C/350*F/ gas mark 4.
Butter a baking dish large enough to hold all of the fish fillets in one layer. Place the fish into the baking dish, presentation side up. Season well with salt and ground white pepper. Squeeze the juice of the lemon over top. Sprinkle the grated cheese over all.
Whisk the cream and mustard together, Pour evenly over top of the fish.
Toss the bread crumbs with the melted butter. Sprinkle evenly over the fish. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until lightly browned on top and the fish flakes easily with the tines of a fork. Serve hot. This goes very well with mashed potatoes or rice with a vegetable on the side.
NOTES:
If you don't really want to use cream, you can use the equivalent in no fat/low fat evaporated milk, undiluted. The mustard will remove any of the "Tinned" milk flavour.
I served this with some fluffy mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. Yes, they are tinned green beans. We like tinned green beans. My sister and I were just talking about that the other day. We both feel the same. I guess it is just what we were used to growing up.
I have to tell you a funny story.
I got this package the other day from The Fish Society. I stuck it in the refrigerator right away because that is what it said on the outside, and even the postman had said to Todd when he handed it to him that it needed to be refrigerated right away as it was perishable.
And so into the fridge it went. I found myself dreaming of smoked salmon mousse or canapes, etc. I dreamt about that for hours. A day or so later I finally got around to opening it. (I wasn't too bothered because you can keep smoked fish for a bit longer.) Imagine my surprise . . .
Not a piece of smoked salmon in site. LOL It was their welcome pack! It contained everything you need to know about their service. Some of their history, how to get in touch with them, their loyalty schemes, delivery guarantees, etc. oh and a lovely wooden spoon. Colour me embarrassed!
Source: https://theenglishkitchen.blogspot.com/2019/06/creamy-baked-haddock.html
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A very old SNSD 1600 pirate AU that I never really got around to posting. Guess this really is a home for all the scraps. Pardon my butchered Victorian English.
________________________________________________)
The Mediterranean Sea was the centre of prosperity for the surrounding countries. Vessels upon vessels travelled the trade routes, carrying assorted goods and valuables, from tobacco, to fish, to tea leaves and coffee beans. Of course, for this, the area became the playground for all manner of unsavoury characters, be them thieves, smugglers, or worse pirates.
It just so happens that one pirate in particular, has their filthy paws sunk deep into three of the main trading channels. Cargo ship after cargo ship went missing the moment they sailed far enough for aid not to arrive quickly. The monthly reports were sitting on the desk, detailing the loss of hundreds of pounds in the finest cloth and wine.
Enough was enough, and that was not even counting the newest exploits of the said pirate. Apparently the youngest daughter of the Duke has been kidnapped on the way to her betrothed’s estate. Understandably, the Duke himself stormed into the naval office and demanded a small fleet be immediately sent out to rescue her.
Admiral Seunghyun Choi merely had his head in his hands. He could hardly boot the Duke out of the building. To make matters worse, the Lady had been kidnapped while on her way to his brother’s estate. No doubt, the Duke would somehow find a way to place all the blame on him.
The door to his office creaked open and Seunghyun immediately straightened up and greeted his guest, “Give thou good morning Stephan.”
The captain bowed politely before responding in kind, “Give you good morning Admiral Choi. Excuse my bluntness sir, but why hath you had me summon’d?”
It was quite early in the morning, and the young sailor would think that the Admiral would have better things to do than speak with a lowly Captain. Almost as if on cue, the Duke’s furious ranting could be heard through the walls of the office.
“Thy Duke calls all able-bodied sailors to prepare every sea faring vessel! Doth thou dare’est disobey!?”
Seunghyun gave Stephan a pointed look and rubbed his forehead tiredly, “Tis barely struck eight an’ my mind be most weary. The Duke has been here since before the sun has risen above the horizon.”
Stephan gave him a sympathetic look, “I have arrived for naught but a quarter hour, yet mine ears begg’d me to run aroint. You sir, are most patient.”
“Best hold thy tongue Captain Hwang, for what I want should have thee cursing mine estate and home,” Seunghyun warned in amusement.
“Please sir, do tell. It be dangerous for curiosity to simmer,” now Stephan was extremely intrigued. What on Earth could the Admiral possibly want that would make him so sure a loyal Captain would curse his family?
“Thou art mine only able-bodied sailor worthy of mention. All thy mundane duties shall be suspended for this assignment of utmost importance. Rescuing the Lady takes precedence above all else,” Seunghyun declared, already trying to figure out who to put in the captain’s usual activities. It would be a shame to send Stephan off of course, but he wasn’t lying when he said that the young sailor was the best that he had available, and they were going to need the best to rescue the Duke’s daughter.
“Me? Admiral sir, you choose me to head such an important voyage?” Stephan asked incredulously.
“Aye, the lookouts spy foreign ships circlin’ the harbour not two moons ago. No doubt the most treacherous Spaniards be the culprit. Dost thou understand now? Thou art the only sailor capable. Make haste to yonder port an’ ready thy ship, Commodore Hwang,” Seunghyun pushed a new badge across the table.
The sailor’s eyebrows rose significantly, not believing that he had just been promoted. Not just promoted, but given a mission to rescue an important figure.
“Still here Commodore? Why? Thee must make haste, tis a clock bound voyage,” Seunghyun made dismissing motions at the shocked sailor’s direction.
That snapped Stephan back to attention, “Aye sir, and many good thanks. Fare you well Admiral Choi.”
“And god give thee a good day Commodore Hwang. Thou shalt need every blessing given.”
_____________)
Tis a clear bright afternoon, an’ the seas be calm and comforting. A galleon ship sailed in no direction apparent, floating carelessly with the wind. No manner of port, vessel, land or critter in sight, but the silence was torn asunder by a band of yowling semi-drunkards.
“Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike
The bosun brained with a marlinspike
And cookey's throat was marked belike
It had been gripped by fingers ten;
And there they lay, all good dead men
Like break o'day in a boozing ken
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!”
The source of the racket came from non-other than the upper deck of the ship, wherein a motley crew of two dozen gathered, toasting to another victory gone by.
Pirates.
Branded traitors, villains, miscreants, and thieves, those whose meeting with the noose is almost a given when making port. But for now they sang their merry tune, inebriated beyond care. For who amongst the liberated could resist such a wild life of rum, pleasure, an’ open waters?
Captain Jessica Jung, barely twenty one summers old, and with a stature befitting of a large child—yet nevertheless, branded the most feared scourge of the North Sea—stood on the bowsprit of her vessel as the cool wind brushed against her face.
“Look, all I be sayin’ is that Sooyoung should not be given access to the kitchen,” Onew said, “Supplies be already low!”
“Hear hear!” Yoona raised her bottle in agreement.
“Ye shan’t be talkin’ Yoona, yer stomach be just as vast!” Minho shot back and the rest of the crew laughed uproariously.
“Then we come to agreement—the kitchen wilt be forbidden fer Sooyoung and Yoona!” Key exclaimed, banging his bottle against the cabin wall as a sort of toast.
“Nay!" Yoona disagreed, banging her bottle on the cabin wall in protest, "Sides, I be the Striker-- forbid me from the kitchen, and the lot of yers shan't have a fresh morsel to fill yer belly!"
Jonghyun laugh, "Aye, tis true! We did not think that through. But Sooyoung can still be banned! The Quartermaster has no business in the kitchen!"
“Such preposterous claims! Ye are most cruel. For we few whom revere simple morsels as divine,” Sooyoung continued, waxing poetic about food of all things, “We few, we scurrilous few. We band of the abandoned. We who are free to claim pox upon the chef and all his maleficent—
“—Sooyoung! Ye best stop butcherin’ such classic literatures by smearin’ the verses with food! Else I shall nail yer tongue to the deck!” Yuri threatened good naturedly.
Minho smirked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Methinks the first mate be bluffing, for what shall she do without Sooyoung’s tongue?”
The first mate in question blushed and whacked Minho over the head while Sooyoung just giggled.
“Alas, the quartermaster be a position of respect an' power, second to none but the Captain. But aboard this vessel..." Sooyoung sighed dramatically, "I am bullied by the measly first mate."
Before Yuri could reply, Jonghyun interrupted with a frown, "Where be our heading?"
“Where the sail's master directs it,” Minho said.
“An’ the sail's master directs it where the captain says so,” Key chimed in.
“Speakin’ of the captain’s say so, she hath not made port since we picked up the new cook,” Onew frowned, indicating to Changmin. They were running low on supplies, and had a rather hefty load of loot from the last few raids, but still, Jessica refused to land and trade.
“Trust the captain,” Sooyoung said, clapping Onew on the back, “Has she ever led us astray?”
“Well there was that time in the Caribbean—
Sooyoung slapped her hand over Onew’s mouth. That particular incident involving a chamber maid, the governor’s granddaughter, and a pile of emeralds, was best left unspoken of, especially when the captain was within hearing distance.
It was then that Jonghyun finally noticed what was missing, “Where be the sail's master?”
Every crew member’s eyes shot towards the wheel. Sure enough, it was empty.
Yuri’s eyes narrowed and she stomped up the stairs, and ‘lo and behold! She found the helmsman dozing off on the ground, back resting on the wheel.
“Hyoyeon!” Yuri exclaimed, “The winds be taking us off course! Hyoyeon!”
“Huh? Wha-?” the sailor muttered groggily.
“I warned ye not to over indulge on the rum! We be heading off course,” Yuri continued to shake the half-awake sailor.
Jessica watched her crew laugh and bicker playfully with one another. There was no place she would rather be. Scorned by the general public and by the authorities as she were, but surrounded by loyal and trustworthy friends, and for Jessica, that was worth dying for.
“Ship ahoy!” Tao called from the crow’s-nest.
Jessica brightened, not a sweeter word had been uttered all day, “A war-ship?”
“Aye! Looks to be a vessel of His Majesty’s Royal Navy!” the young lookout announced.
“Doth it be alone?” Jessica asked, it might not have been a helpless merchant ship, but she had been itching for a fight all day.
“Indeed! No other vessel in all direction!”
Jessica whipped out her spyglass and spotted her prey floating in the waves not too far ahead.
“Mister Lee!” the captain grinned predatorily, “Hoist the colours!”
“Aye captain!” Onew saluted, pulling on the ropes.
_____________)
Aboard the magnificent naval warship, The Endeavour, the newly stationed commodore watched as his crew prepared the vessel for departure. It was a beautifully designed ship, made almost entirely of the sycamore wood from London forests and painted in yellow and blue with great billowing white sails.
As the gulls flew ahead, he felt a deep sense of anticipation. Finally, fate had presented an ample opportunity to meet those bastardly Spaniards that had taken so much! No, metaphoric iron walls slammed down as Stephan mentally steeled away from such selfish thoughts. Rescuing the Duke’s daughter came before all other pursuits, no matter how righteous they may be.
At the helm a young sailor looking barely eighteen summers old, stood steering the ship with a countenance of utmost enthusiasm.
Stephan walked up the wooden stairs, hands trailing along the new, smooth hand rails. The Endeavour was a gift from his father for his twenty first birthday. Leonardo Hwang was an Admiral in his days, and a well-respected one at that, and Stephan Hwang intended to live up to that legacy.
“Good morrow Commodore Hwang,” the helmsman greeted.
“How now Master…?” Stephan paused, looking questioningly at the sailor, he did not recognise him.
“Lee sir,” the sailor replied quickly, “Taemin Lee at your service.”
“How now Master Lee?”
“Good now sir. Where be our direction Commodore?” Lee asked.
Now Stephan knew that the Spaniards have a port on a small island not too far from the direction that they had last spotted Spanish vessels, but he also knew that the ships spotted in the past few days were last seen heading in the opposite direction. The Lady comes first!
“The Lady be headed to the estate of the Duke of Norfolk Siwon Choi, an’ was intercepted by unknown vessels. Set course for Canvey Island Master Lee, there be renown pirate ports in those waters. An’ doth make haste, there be no tellin’ what foul tortures the poor Lady must be endurin’,” Stephan said, finding the young sailor’s attitude to be quite endearing.
There was always a bright cheerfulness when new sailors come aboard. Not to speak badly of the more experienced sailors of course, but with the experience, came the dark grimness that haunted those who fought at sea. Wide-eyed sailors with bright dispositions were a breath of fresh air. Stephan hoped that it would be a while before Taemin gets those hopeful dreams get crushed by the harsh realities of their occupation.
“Master Lee, for how many years hath thee toiled for His Majesty’s Royal Navy?”
“One summer sir,” Lee answered promptly.
“Fresh from the academy then,” Stephan nodded, his thoughts confirmed, “This be your first voyage away from home waters?”
“Aye sir, an’ what an adventure it shall be,” he grinned with relish.
The commodore gazed up at the sky, “Adventure huh? I pray thee be wrong.”
There was not a single cloud, the sky mirroring the ocean almost perfectly. Bear it good omens. Unless of course, it was a false sign and there were treacherous waters ahead, but Stephan felt uncharacteristically positive. Perhaps it was the promotion…He must really keep his mood in check.
“Has sir encountered a pirate?” Lee asked, curious.
Stephan nodded grimly, “Aye, in all my years never have I crossed paths with any such being more foul, uncouth and scurrilous than a pirate. Thee best pray to find one on thine own terms. To be ambushed by such savage beasts—tis not a right fate deserving for any good man.”
Before Lee could reply, a distressed call from one of the lookouts on the crow’s-nest silenced him, “Ship ahoy!”
“Dost she bear friendly colours?” Stephan asked, a grim expression settling on his face. He hadn’t expected to encounter anyone so soon.
“Nay. A flag of…tis a blue flag beholding a white skeleton…”
“Is the skeleton wielding a black trident?” Stephan asked.
“Aye sir.”
“Doth the ship hoist red sails?”
“Tis true sir!”
All the colour drained from Stephan’s face, and he cursed his luck. Of all the ships to encounter, it had to be that one. “It be The Neptune’s Revenge!”
A gulp of fear washed through the crew. Even amongst the men of the Navy, the exploits and horrifying tales of the dreaded pirate ship sent terror down their spines.
“Well Master Lee, seems like thy request for adventure hath been heard,” Stephan said grimly.
The mettle of the British Navy had all but vanished with one look of the flag, as they fuelled each other’s fear with rumours surrounding the dreaded Captain of the Neptune’s Revenge.
“I hear she sets fire to yer shoes an’ makes ye dance till ye cark it,” cried one sailor as he fumbled with his bayonet.
“I have heard she strings you up by your innards an’ lets the birds make a meal of yer!” another shivered, sending more doubts to the rest of the crew.
“Whispers run round of the captain bartering her soul with the devil himself! They claim she feels no pain. Neither blade nor gun can take her down, nor doth she bleed like one bound to mortal’s realm!”
“I’ll ne’er see mother again! Tis the Locker for us all!”
“Enough!” Stephan snapped, temper pushed to the limit, “Are thee all dogs or men? Cowering in the face of a pirate!” he spat out the word with disgust, “Are we not King’s Men? When those over-glorified thieves board the vessel, what shalt thee do? Will thee cower? Cry? Surrender? Be stabbed in the back like the sickening cur that thee are? Nay! These be pirates! Thee be dead if thee fight, dead or worse if thee do not! Which will it be?” he paused, letting the message sink.
The pirate ship was quickly coming closer, and Stephan cursed the weather. It figures that even the blasted winds weren’t on his side, “So again, are we not King’s Men!?”
“Aye!” the crew yelled as one, spirits renewed, and fire in every sailor’s eyes.
“Now load up thy muskets and man the canons! There be no time to waste!”
______________________________________________________)
The waves were calm, and the winds barely rattled the sails, making it quite easy for the Neptune’s Revenge to cut through the water and make a straight line for the approaching navy vessel.
“Yuri take the helm!” Jessica shouted, climbing up onto the rigging.
Her first mate didn’t look pleased at missing out on the action, but understood that Hyoyeon wasn’t in any shape or form to be steering straight, let alone be prepared to make a quick getaway should things go awry, so she took the wooden wheel in her hand and directed them towards the enemy ship.
Drink durin’ daylight, never again, Yuri vowed, scowling as the rest of the crew members drew their blades and flintlock pistols in preparation for boarding, “Approaching via starboard!” she announced, spinning the wheel so that right side of their ship faced the other vessel’s rear.
“Man the starboard canons! Fire freely on my mark!” Jessica silently counted down the seconds that it would take for the other ship to come into range. 5…4…3…2…1, “FIRE!”
A deafening roar echoed across the blue sea as the ship recoiled from the three powerful canon blasts. Jessica watched with grim satisfaction as a mast on the enemy’s ship collapsed. She made a mental note to give Minho, Jonghyun and Key a larger portion of the loot seeing as how they never did miss a target.
As the cannonballs smashed through the rear hull of the naval vessel, Jessica was never more glad that her ship could cut through the waters and turn relatively easy. “Halt all fire! Yul, bring us to portside! Quartermaster prepare to board! Portside gunners an’ deckhands with ye!”
Jessica drew her flintlock pistol and watched passively as the crew on the other ship began to fire back using long arquebus firearms. It wasn’t particularly useful from such a far range, and Jessica frowned, wondering why they haven’t fired the canons now that her ship was directly parallel to theirs.
“Belay that! Sooyoung do not board!” She called.
Sooyoung halted in mid stride, about to let loose her grappling hook. She bore an expression of confusion, it was the perfect time to board the enemy ship, “Captain?”
“They have yet to fire canons, something is rotten here,” Jessica narrowed her eyes, and pulled out her spyglass. The Naval crew were running amok (that much was expected), trying to repair the damage done to the rear hull, several of the crew members were firing pistols and flintlock guns (rather furtively) at her ship…Jessica looked around for the Captain but could not spot him, “What in the devil are they scheming?”
One of the lookouts screamed something urgently, but the firing pistols masked too much of the noise for Jessica to make it out.
“Fie upon all that is holy!” Yuri suddenly cursed, jerking the ship to the left so suddenly that Jessica nearly toppled over.
The captain barely managed to grab hold of the ropes to keep herself from a rather painful fall to the deck, “Yuri! What be the meaning of this!?” Jessica demanded, clutching onto the foresail rope.
“Kai spotted Siphons, the cockering dim-witted maggots are preparing Greek Fire!”
All the brash bluster disappeared from Jessica’s demeanour almost instantly. The legendary Greek Fire, Fire that burned on water. But then logic caught up to her, “Impossible! The English have not unlocked the secrets of Greek Fire! Twas lost! It be a fools bluff!”
However Yuri wasn’t keen on finding out for sure, “Better safe than burnin’ an’ drown’d!”
Jessica jumped down from the foresail ropes and landed with a thud next to Yuri. She grabbed the wheel and spun in around, bringing the ship back towards the Naval vessel.
“E’en by stroke of fate, they possess the fiendish flames, they wilt not fire upon their own vessel!” Jessica growled, “Prepare for boarding!”
“This be madness Jessica!” Yuri insisted, she turned to the quartermaster who was still waiting by the side, waiting for further orders, “Sooyoung! Tell her this be madness!”
“Nay!” Sooyoung smirked savagely, “Tis a good day to slay a few Blues! Gunners by my side!”
The portside gunners proceeded to lower the boarding ramp, before charging to the enemy vessel, Sooyoung and Jessica not far behind them.
“Oh for shits sake! Loggerheaded, dismal-dreaming idiots!” Yuri cursed, hand on the wheel, “If we die, I shall haunt ye fer all eternity Jessica!”
_____________________________________________________)
Meanwhile on the Endeavour, the crew members were in the midst of panic when canon fire rained down and large planks of wood splintered from the ship, lodging themselves into unsuspecting navy officers. The main mast had already fallen, and dozens of sailors were busy trying to cut it loose altogether, before the weight dragged them to the depths of Davy Jones’ Locker.
“Pirates boarding portside!” one of the sailors yelled in panic, as he spotted grappling hooks imbedding themselves into the wooden hand rails.
“Shoot them!” Another one roared over the commotion.
BANG!
Another canon ball smashed into the once pristine deck.
“The ship shall be torn in two at this rate!” a panicked sailor looked around for any form of leadership frantically, “Where be the commodore!?”
Meanwhile below deck, Commodore Hwang watched as the men hurriedly pieced together the secret weapon that Admiral Choi had given him. The damp, musty air and the wet floor made Stephan all the more impatient.
“Is it prepared?” Stephan snapped, tapping his foot on the sea-soaked wood.
The siphons were an extra load to carry, and they had to get rid of some of the canons. If it didn’t work, then they were as good as doomed. The pirates already had a major head start in blowing holes into their ship, if the above commotion was anything to go by.
“Aye Commodore, ready to fire on command,” the boatswain replied with excited anticipation.
“Then what are ye waiting for? Fire!” Stephan ordered, scowling at the fumbling sailor. He made a mental note to find a new boatswain as soon as possible. One of the gunners ought to be more competent than this guy. That was the unfortunate thing about the Navy; most people got their ranks from who they knew, rather than what they knew.
Green flames erupted from the metal pipe and rained over the enemy ship, the water not impeding its path in the slightest. A smirk made its way onto Stephan’s face, “Magnificent. Keep firing, I shall overseer the battle from above deck.”
Stephan drew his sword and charged up the stairs. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. Men lay sprawled across the deck, slain by the vicious beasts, their blood spilt over the once pristine wood. The surviving crew cowering or running aroint in no manner of organisation or purpose. The ones responsible for the chaos dared to stand behind the wheel of his ship. Immediately, Stephan looked around for the young helmsman, but could not find heads or tails of him.
“Well now, I thought I recognised yer ship,” a soft voice greeted pleasantly from behind him.
The commodore whipped around, eyes narrowing at the sight, “You!”
“Tis been a while, has it not Stephanie?” Jessica drawled, putting emphasis on the last syllable of ‘his’ name. The captain’s falchion and flintlock were in each hand, but they were not poised for battle, but hung limp at her side, demeanour simply oozing complacency.
The commodore was not amused, “Get off my ship, traitor!”
“I’m afraid I cannot,” Jessica sounded not at all apologetic, “See, a certain someone has deemed it fit to set my vessel ablaze with cursed Greek fire,” she jabbed her thumb behind her in the direction of her burning ship, which was also rapidly emptying of its crew members, who were quickly clambering over to the Endeavour, “So I shall have to make do with this one.”
“This be my ship, an’ I will sooner hand it to Davy Jones than let it fall in the hands of a pirate!” Stephanie snarled, bringing her sword down, intent on slicing off the smirk on Jessica’s face.
Jessica barely moved a muscle. In fact, she moved all of three—to raise her arm, and pull the trigger. The noise was not even palpable over the chaos across the deck, but it seemed as if the entire ship stopped whatever they were doing and watched as the commodore dropped to the ground.
“I always did warn ye not ter bring swords to a gun fight,” Jessica said, expression almost forlorn. Countenance changing faster than the eye could blink, Jessica turned to address the rest of the ship, “Yer Captain is down! The ship is ours!”
Her crew cheered, but there was a hollow feeling in their cries, and Jessica could not blame them. After all, they had just lost their ship and all of their meagre possessions with it. She was going to have to do some major damage control after this, else risk a mutiny. She trusted her first mate more than anything, but she was not deaf to the crew’s mutterings, and many of them had been ill content in the past week.
Her men shoved the rest of the surviving Endeavour’s crew onto one of the longboats, and threw their injured captain with them. Jessica shook her head, “I would have hoped you would have learned better by now, old friend.”
“Captain, this ship needs major repairs. We need to dock, and quickly, else we risk laying rest at the bottom of the sea,” Sooyoung said urgently.
“Aye, cutting down the mast ‘twas folly in hindsight. Set course fer Canvey Island, we shall make port there,” Jessica agreed.
______________________________________________________________
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