Vivienne was narrowly staring at him now with her blue eyes, along with seriousness slowly creeping up within before rolling them at his assumptions, and accusations to her senses of empathy. "Well pardon me for bringing you on this ship to get her back", she countered at him in a collected, straight-forward way, sounding a little dissapointed with his quickness to jump and not analyze what she's been trying to tell him. "Mister Turner, might I advise you that you might not be looking hard enough at what I request of you?", the pirate sat on the desk in a calm manner, since she was near Will; one of her legs supporting her weight, and arms to support her balance.

Her face was near William now, by several inches. "You want to know where Low makes berth? This is the most definitive spot", she pointed once again to the map, though her gaze remained on him. "Nassau is on the island of New Providence, one of the fewest of pirate ports in the Caribbean. Not to mention being the most prominent of strongholds we have. If you so desperately want to rescue Abigail, we shall be there by sunset, and fortunately, according to Mister Silver", she paused, getting off of the desk, and going around the desk to sit in the grand chair. "Low is currently very new to the place, as we speak, so he won't get far", from the fort, the pirate held back.

"In the meantime, relax", Vivienne reached behind her, fetching a bottle of rum from a small shelf, and two mugs. Who else wouldn't secretly stash a bottle where you might need it? She gestured to the seat before her, near Will. "Tell me, why so bleak towards me? What's this grudge against piracy?", she was really asking out of curiosity.

Will refrained from a sigh and looked again at the map. He looked up sharply when she mentioned what it signified. "That's where he hides out?" He repeated sinking into a chair. That made a bit more sense. You would probably want to head there first. The odds of catching a ship on the high seas was difficult. There was so much water and they did have a head start. He just hoped that Abigail survived that long. He glanced over at the woman and shook his head, declining the mug of brandy. He needed his mind sharp - especially on a pirate ship.

He looked over at Vivienne, his eyes studying her. Her question hit a bit closer to home than he would like to admit. He rose and walked to the small window. "You're pirates. What is there to like? You steal other people's hard earned money, you raid, pillage, loot, ravish..." He turned and looked back at her. "The list goes on and on. Oh no doubt you'll claim it's just another job." He pulled the chair out and turned it back facing her before sitting down. He placed his arms on the back. "But it's thievery and murder, plain and simple." His posture remained rigid. "Look, let's just both stick to our agreement. You help me get Abigail and we'll leave you be to continue on your illicit ways." He rose, not being able to sit.

His words were passionate but there was a lot more than just the basic rhetoric. It was personal to him. And not just with Abigail, though that hadn't helped. He had hatred of pirates when he first met her. Long before that actually. He touched his sword hilt. He hadn't left it behind on purpose. No way was he going on a pirate ship without being armed. As it was, he was going to have to watch his back the entire time.

"And I know you probably don't give a care about Abigail." He turned and looked at her. "In fact, if you keep your word at all, I'd be surprised. But know that I'll do what I have to save her - including holding you to your word. Your crew be darned." He clearly wasn't the type that made friends easily.

From outside the captain's door. Jim stiffened. He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Well, who was he kidding. He did. Thankfully with the door closed, the Captain wouldn't see him. And from any other person, it looked like he was doing some work or other. He wondered if he should barge in and take care of that...that scoundrel. Threatening the captain. Vivienne. It made his blood heat up. He caught Silver's eye and nodded toward the door. Jim respected the older man and knew he wouldn't hold eavesdropping against him. In fact, though nothing was really said, it seemed he encouraged it.

"He's threatening the Cap'n." Jim whispered staying close to the door, but going over and meeting the man. He quickly recanted what he heard. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. The sun reflected off the deadly blade.

"Yes", Vivienne answered simply, almost as if it was obvious, and then shrugged at his decline for rum. More for her, then. She proceeded by popping the cork off the top, and take a small swing. They were only occasional times where she would drink. Maybe not as much as the others, but it was rare to witness from the pirate woman. The brunette might have the habit of stashing them all over the place, but it's remarkable that she would drink only so little at a time. That was when she put her laced boots upon the desk in a casual manner, when Will began his explainable lecture.

She was all ears to William's point of persoective to the image of piracy. It contained at least seventy percent of the content being described, and she couldn't agree more with him. "What you say, love, is all true to what you think of us", she spoke after a moment of processing; her gaze still upon him, slightly narrowing her blue eyes. "However, not everything in this life is about murder and greed", she paused, looking at the bottle that was currently in her possession. "It was not always a willful choice to pick, not for any of us. There were times where we didn't have a choice", her voice turned solemn at this point, and her gaze went back to him.

"It was all about survival, Mister Turner. Most of us have had very poor lives, and took upon this life as an opportunity to escape the chains of labor, and the chains of authority. We didn't need those rules to hold us back, and we didn't need authority to drive us from what they expect of us", she came to a pause once again, before making a sigh, and getting up to move towards the windows behind the chair. There was a grim expression upon her as she thought about those times she had to escape that said-labour, and those times she helped her crewmates escape their own harsh realities. Speaking of harsh realities, this went back to her youngest crew member.

"I'm sure you noticed our youngest lad out there", she pointed out to William, knowing that he would cross paths with Jim. "Around here, we call him 'Jim', but back then, he was 'James Pleiades Hawkins'", the pirate added. "Good kid, he is; a strong one with a passion to experience the sea. Raised by his only mother Sarah, she and Jim were left abandoned on Tortuga by his father. But the streets of the port proved to be difficult, and Sarah passed away from disease", Vivienne remembered the memory real well. "I found him in a controversy with another crew, due to turning to a life of thievery. Pressganged here and there, someone had to rescue him", she turned to Will, taking her gun and sword off her belt, and placing them upon the desk. "I offered him a better life here within my crew, and he took it. I'm proud of him to be here. He's just a kid, William", she finished before going back to the desk, but not sitting down.

To see Mister Turner still ponder upon Abigail, she, once again, sat on the desk in front of him. "Don't worry about the girl", the pirate told him, surprisingly sounding empathetic from her previous story. "I've happen to bump into her yesterday, and not just at the jail", she hinted the last time she saw her. "Miss Ashe put up a good fight that night; as a pirate, I've never seen another lass that strong, aside from the other one", truthfully, she meant no ill-will towards Elizabeth, and if Will thought it that way, he overestimated her. "I think you overestimate me on 'heartlessness', Mister Turner. I don't have the wile to possess no heart; I tend to see empowerment in everyone", she gave a smirk to the man, a natural one that holds assuring.

Strange way to look at it. Not everyone had a choice. Will wasn't so sure about that. He had been an orphan and he had made his way. But then again, he did have the Governor provide a bit of help getting him an apprentice. His mind went back to the young man he saw on his way in. Had he really grown up that way? He didn't know for sure but why would she lie? Technically, she could have said that to garner some sympathy but it didn't seem to fit. In fact, Will had a feeling that it probably was true. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have someone who could give them a leg up. The world could be a harsh place. Sometimes it kicked you down and there was no one there to help you. If what Vivienne said was true though, she had been there and given the young man what he needed. Despite the fact that she brought him into the world of thievery and crime.

"So you saved him from one press gang and brought him into a world where he'd get the noose if he is caught." Despite the words, there was no bite in them.

Heading over, Will sat down. He glanced at Vivienne. So she had met Abigail. In all honesty, he really didn't focus that much attention on Elizabeth's cousin. His eyes were on Elizabeth only. Oh he knew Abigail and remembered her but she was more of a minor add on that he couldn't even honestly say what color her eyes were. It was a bit sad but then again there was nothing wrong with it either. Except for the fact that this woman pirate seemed to have a bit idea on Abigail then he did. "Yes, Ms. Ashe does have spirit." He knew that much. Besides, she was the cousin to Elizabeth. She had to have some spirit.

The ship swayed slightly on the waves. Will rubbed his face with his right hand and then looked at Vivienne. He raised an eyebrow at her comment. "Empowerment huh?" He shook his head. "So we beat Low to this Nassau and rescue Abigail? And you believe she'll survive long enough to get there?" This was crazy. Why was he even taking her at her word? She was a pirate? Despite her talk, she wouldn't be in it unless it brought her something of value. And honestly, his helping her escape held no bearing now. She had a crew and could do what she wanted.

Deciding to bring it back to the topic of survival, he stared at Vivienne. "So was that what brought you into piracy? Survival? Were you like, Jim? Press ganged into it?" He was a bit curious actually. Besides, knowing her intent in becoming a pirate could possibly help him gauge who she was. Know one's enemy. That was important.

Vivienne found it amusing that he was getting curious. Good. That was where she needed him to be; to think and learn more about the image of piracy. If he so-desired to rescue the damsel-in-distress from pirates, he would have to learn the bigger picture of those said-pirates. This kind of life had its ups and downs, and one will easily get killed if they didn't know how to steer it. In basic terms, they would absolutely have no idea about the world they live in; 'n this case, piracy.

With her gaze still on William, the pirate lifted a thin, well-groomed eyebrow at his conclusion. Wasn't he listening? "I beg your pardon, but Mister Hawkins has been committing crime and thievery long before I met him", she corrected. "Ever since the death of his mother, he's been running from the law; for the many objects he had swiped to survive. However, that was when he realized that he stole from the wrong crowd; a pirate crew", there was a slow leak of sympathy in her English-accented voice. "I gave their captain a pardon to spare him, and Jim...", she paused. "...he needed a shield, so he willingly took his place; under my command", the pirate intently finished; in a way to drop the subject, and move on. For the thought on Abigail, Vivienne gave a fond nod at Will's confirmation on Abigail's fiery spirit, and she mentally agreed. The girl's tough, she found herself thinking.

"That's right, love. Everyone has their own way to express inner strength. For you? I see a heroic young man, who sees the rules as a restraint, but can't bring himself to break them, unless he is willing to do so, if it means to care for those closest to him. Our little dance from earlier? That shows great courage, Mister Turner", she complimented, foretelling it in an honest way. Vivienne doesn't lie, unless it means to cover up something of great value to her. She was a good woman, despite the fact that this man didn't seem to see her that way at all. "I can imagine that your father was the same", there was no ill-will, but intrigue; interested.

Taking the bottle of rum that was sitting next to her, she took a small swing of it, before internally rolling her eyes at his questions. "Believe me when I say it: Miss Ashe will survive. Know why? Because every pirate knows her father, Lord Peter Ashe. He made the pirate law; to have us hung at first sight. Plus, he's strong in power, so Low might use her for a piece of that power. For that, he will keep her alive, until he gets the money", she made no mention about the necklace, though. She needed it for high value, hoping to use it for a high-rise of Vane's reputation; to bring it back up, and allow Charles Vane to sail again. As she had learned, William held no business with pirates, so why involve him with it? She didn't expect him to ask her that question, though. Even after he asked, all the brunette did was ponder for a good moment or two, staring at the ground, or really, the bottle in her hand. I was a slave, who desired no chains to hold me down, she thought of saying, but didn't. Vivienne found herself walking back to the Captain's chair, hoping to avoid the question.

"Exactly like Jim, William", she forced herself to say in a collected voice to mask the truth. It was none of his business, anyway...

Vivienne was a strange woman. Was she trying to be friendly? Trying to get him to see her side? Not that it would work. Still, her compliment surprised him. As did the remark about his father. Will didn't remember much about his dad but he knew that his father had been a great man. Strong. Courageous. Moral. It was something that Will wanted to strive for. He didn't admit that he almost agreed with Vivienne's assessment on him. He was a rule follower but there were times they were constraining. The very fact he was working with pirates to help Abigail proved that. But then again, rules were meant to help. Keep people safe. If the current establishment wasn't going to assist - in this case Abigail - than he had to do what he needed to do.

He studied her. It was hard to see someone like her having grown up a thief, forced to scrounge and survive. She was relatively healthy. Strong even. She was skilled with the blade, so that meant she had been practicing for some time. She held her own against him. And that was with an injury - not that he would admit that. She was a captain. But she wasn't that old. Maybe mid-twenties? Late twenties? It was impolite to ask a woman her age, not that Vivienne was a lady. Still...

"Interesting assessment." Will rose, not content to just sit. "There are reasons we have law and order. Rules bring firmness to a chaotic world. Without order there is anarchy. And anarchy just goes down to whoever is the strongest and most skilled. Basically might makes right." His hand rested calmly on his sword. "And that isn't true justice. That isn't the best way. In an anarchist society the weak and innocent usually pay."

He walked over to the window and stared out into the sea. The waves lapped against the boat. The sky - clear. The sound of the men on the deck outside filtered in slightly. Will turned and looked at Vivienne. "Are some rules foolish? Yes, I concede that. But there are ways you can work with it. If I had time, I would have found a more lawful way to get Abigail back. But as time is of essence, I don't have any to waste."

He sighed. "I think I'll get some fresh air." He turned and headed toward the door. He paused. Wincing at having to do it, he looked back at Vivienne. "Thank you for your help." It was difficult to get the words out. He exited the cabin. He spotted the boy moving slightly away. He remembered what Vivienne said and wondered if the kid was happier here. Probably - if what she had said about his past was true. Though he didn't think she'd lie on that. Moving on, he spotted the first mate by the ship's side and headed over. He nodded and leaned against the railing. "Nice weather."

Jim had moved away quickly but not where it was obvious that he had been eavesdropping. Once the man had left, he made his way back to check on his captain. Spotting her drinking, he winced slightly before knocking. "Captain, did you need anything?" He asked

Vivienne studied the man across from her, and examined him through his response. He seemed to be the kind of man who would see reason to follow the law, though he may not fully accept it if something else interferes with his judgement to follow it. In this case, he broke her out of jail, and took sail upon a ship that's occupied with the New World's most-wanted thieves. But for what the pirate has just observed, William clearly doesn't know the "rules" of piracy, nor does he know about the obstacles and challenges contained. This was not a jump-in career that anyone can handle; only those with, at least, uncanny knowledge in survival: seamanship, finance, and strategy. She even heard stories of rookies dying on their first try, due to their lack of navigation. Vivienne figured that, through exposure to the challenges, it would give off a clear impression for the newbies to know what's ahead of them.

The brunette couldn't help but agree with him, but she didn't outwardly make it known; keeping her feminine features soft and collected, but neutral, if one would look closer. It almost amused her that he would be this wise; the way his words were orchestrated and expressed, were almost like Vane: passionate and observed, while it held very little traits of influence; nowhere near Mister Silver's level, she knew, but he was perhaps on her own. If Turner was better, he may hold some level of understanding the ways of power, perhaps better than most. Vivienne made sure to mentally note this.

She didn't say anything as he spoke, only using her body language to show that she was listening, albeit in a very curious way. Taking another swing, the pirate heard him declare his leave. Vivienne hummed in acknowledgement, in a way that she was allowing him to do so freely, at any time he wished. William was technically a temporal member in the crew, and if the pirate wanted to see what he was capable of, then distantly observing him would be the right way to go, in order to truly understand his perspective on the pirate life. If he was blindly despising it, Vivienne would have him experience it firsthand, hoping to eventually get him into knowing its true reality. Another sign of respect came from him, so she was on the right track. "You're only doing what's right, Mister Turner", she responded back, before watching him step out entirely.

Making a sigh, almost in relief, the brunette-haired woman sank in the chair; pulling her legs upon the desk, and crossing them elegantly, as she took yet another swing. This one longer than previous, and a troubled expression came upon her. Vivienne felt herself beginning to wallow. He had to ask, didn't he?, she thought, seemingly staring into space, towards the open bottle she just recently placed on the desk. It was not in her place to be depressed, but the harsh life she had escaped, wasn't going to leave. The dirt...the sounds of axes...the punch blows...the weeping...the cracking whip...the..

There was the sound of knocking, and a voice of a younger man. Her blue eyes looked up, delayed, and took in the image of Jim walking in; the youngest member. In her state, Vivienne didn't move; the only movement being her reach for the bottle...

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

The dark-brown, wavy-curled, and shoulder-length-haired man was indeed standing at the side of the vessel; the rolled-up sleeves of his dark-brown shirt exposing his, once again, light-tanned, average-slim, crossed arms, as a gentle wind blowing passed. John Silver was casually standing there, not really looking at anything in particular with his sky-blue eyes but, by the way he gazed out, he was seemingly waiting for the unknown.

He heard approaching footsteps, and one glance next to him, was unexpected, but he figured that this taller man was just going about. A somewhat awkward tension became known, and Silver just followed through with it. "It is", it was a statement, not a question.

Will glanced over at the man. "It is." Plain. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. It was surprisingly refreshing. The man wasn't arrogant in the way he said it. It wasn't said "It is" as annoyance. No. In a way it left things open yet at the same time let it end there if Will decided to let it go. It basically left the conversation in his court.

The man was young - not young like the boy but still fairly young, in his prime. His hair was a bit curly and hung down to his neck. He seemed to have a slight easy nature yet Will had no doubt he knew what he was doing with the blade. He seemed ready for whatever was to come, not afraid of it. He had an adventurers look about him. Why had he joined up? He didn't seem like one with a poor background. But he also didn't seem like a blackguard either. "The name's Will. Will Turner." Will offered his hand, introducing himself. He didn't know why he did it. Why make acquaintances with the crew? They were just going their separate ways.

Maybe it was the words that Vivienne had said. Maybe there was something that made him wonder. He had always seen pirates as evil. They were. They pillaged and plundered. His own family was dead because of them. But...but maybe there was something to some of them. Why did they become evil? Vivienne's remark on Jim, the young pirate lad, seemed to reverberate in Will's mind. What drove someone to piracy? Was it the adventure of it? Was it the wealth? Was it poor family background? Looking at the man in front of him, Will wondered if adventure was what brought him aboard. He didn't seem like a villain, but then again, maybe it was an act? For all Will knew this man would slit his throat for a mild offense.

Either way, Will was going to take advantage of his time here. Vivienne was right in some ways. Will didn't feel like he knew pirates well enough. He hated them and would never agree to what they did but...but spending the little time he would with them might give him better insights. And it wouldn't hurt. To know one's enemy would help in better defeating them. Knowing what drove a pirate could ultimately help in defeating said pirate. Besides, conversation wouldn't kill him. He wasn't going to ignore everyone the entire trip. They'd no doubt slit his throat and toss him overboard if he tried that. Assuming of course they wouldn't do that anyway.


The captain was drinking. That was never a good sign. "Cap'n?" Jim entered the cabin, glad the stranger had finally left. He didn't trust the man. The fact he had a sword meant the captain had a bit of trust in him. Well enough to let him walk on armed. Of course, the captain was also an excellent swordswoman. She had bested Jim the few times they had sparred. He always tried to learn from those mistakes and improve. And she was wonderful to watch. Her movements. The way she glided. Her hips. His throat went dry and he pushed the thought aside. He didn't want to go there right this second.

"Do you need anything?" He asked. His eyes went down a bit, as they usually did. They widened as he spotted the injury. "You're injured." There was anger and a bit of protectiveness in his tone. Who had done that to her? "Do you need some fresh water to clean it?" He asked.

Mister Silver was most definitely not an arrogant man; never was. Although there have been times where he would be a bit gullible on what and who he is facing. He hasn't admitted to that flaw. Not yet, anyway. Not towards Vivienne, at least. In the crew, aside from Miss Black herself, Silver was the smartest in his prime. It may sound arrogant now, but later on, one would beg otherwise.

Plus, like Vivienne, he was a man of mystery; never revealing anything personal about him. But for him to work with Black for so long, he thinks he may have figured her out. But there are times where he wondered if he was missing something. Now with this man next to him, now known as Will Turner", maybe he could examine him, figure out what his intentions are.

With an breathed chuckle, his short, curly, dark-brown hair following the movement of head, the quartermaster reluctantly completed the introduction by returning the handshake. "My name is John Silver", he said, in his usual fast-talking Australian-English voice. That voice was medium-deep, probably deeper than Mister Turner's own. "Out of curiousity, what business do you have with the captain?", he simply asked, while taking a glance at the slightly taller man.

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

Vivienne looked at her youngest with slightly sluggish eyes. She trusted Jim, as long as he respected her. Plus, she wasn't blind to his motives: to show his gratitude of rescuing him months ago. Her wavy, brown-black hair slightly drooped over her beautiful features, she had her slightly-focused vision towards Jim. Did she need anything? No, she didn't. But Vivienne didn't make that known; her troubled body language was enough to show it.

Miss Black didn't have a boundary for her state of being; never did. Only a few on the ship knew of this, like Silver and Jim, but never anyone else. Her calm and collected exterior was a mask, and the others didn't dare to look underneath it, and they knew the cost if they did so: see Miss Vivienne Black as weak. Truly vulnerable. A woman. A woman who was once a slave. A slave. Again, she didn't admit this to anyone, but only to Silver; kept it all in shadow.

Hearing Jim's concern, a smirk appeared on his captain's face. A smirk that she was determined to use as a brush-over about her injury. "It's just a scratch -- ", she attempted to say, but the rise in his voice didn't surprise her. She eventually nodded for his assistance; to finally receive treatment.

The man's grip was firm but not aggressive. Will had half expected the man to test his strength but other than the firm grasp, the man seemed content. That was interesting. The accent was also another interesting thing to note. The man was not from here nor native Britain, though his English was impeccable. One of the many English colonies?

At the man's question, the brief thought of why the man should know crossed Will's mind but he dismissed it. No doubt Vivienne would tell him anyway and besides, it wasn't really a secret. Nor did he care to make it one. Though, it was very interesting again that Vivienne was the captain of this whole crew. For that he had a bit of admiration for her. It must be hard trying to get pirates to listen to you in general, but as a woman? And then have them follow your leadership? He was impressed. He looked at the quartermaster. "We had an arrangement," he said. "A cousin of a dear friend was kidnapped last night. She has agreed to help me rescue the girl - assuming she's alive." His gaze looked out briefly over the ocean. His jaw tightened slightly.

Despite the fact they had known each other for some time, Will didn't really think of Abigail and himself as friends. They were acquaintances with a mutual friend. Still, he would go around the world if need be to rescue her. Even if she was dead by time he got there or worse... Even though he would rescue a damsel in distress, the real reason - if he was honest with himself - that he was pushing so hard to rescue her was for Elizabeth. In a way, it would be his last gift to her.

He looked back at John. "Basically, that's about sums it up. I helped her, she helps me. Mutual agreement."



It was not just a scratch and it hadn't been attended to. Jim knew better than to take the bottle from the captain. He wasn't that brave - or stupid. So letting her drink, he quickly cleansed her wound, bringing some water and another bottle of rum. His hands shook just slightly as he touched her thigh. He hoped she didn't notice as he forced them to remain still. The proximity of her body to him and the fact he was touching her sent fire through his blood.

However, he remained calm, not making eye contact for fear he would give something away, forcing his hands to remain still, knowing that his cheeks were a bit red. Still, he managed to clean up her wound. Binding it he rose and quickly turned. "Will you be needin' anythin' else Cap'n?" He inquired. "Somethin' to eat perhaps?"

Listening to this man's explanation, John kept his gaze upon him, but briefly looked away every so often. An agreement? Well, certainly would Miss Black go for pardons and arrangements with her feminine wiles, but it surprised him that she would agree with those who've made the offer. The expectations for her to go along with it were rare, and Silver only knew her better when she proposes a deal with another captain to get even. "Huh", he simply said, almost in a neutrally surprised fashion, with his arms still crossed. His sky-blue eyes looked down for a moment, in order to process what Will just explained.

He then briefly, but good-heartedly, chuckled, shaking his head a little, before looking back up at the man. "She agreed?", the quartermaster echoed, calmly surprised to be hearing this about Vivienne. It really sounded amusing, but Miss Black agreeing to a deal? It was almost unlike her, as far as he remembered.

"Miss Black doesn't usually agree to deals; she makes the deals", John began to explain, now neutrally calm. "For the past few months I've known her, agreements only worked as her calling for a profit, or an even trade to save a few necks. She did it for me; no doubt for Hawkins", he continued as a matter-of-fact. He didn't know what Vivienne's latest plan was, but he made a mental note to ask her. As her partner, John only knew that it was unlike Black to agree to these said-deals; not to mention rare. "'Lady of the Night', they call her", he added lowly. "She's more than you think".

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

The brunette figured that she had enough to drink. Even though she noticed Jim fetched her another bottle, Black didn't bother taking it. She felt his hands tend to the graze upon her upper thigh, and the old bandage was replaced with a new one. They had a doctor on the ship, Dr. Howell, but stubborn Vivienne was, she allowed Jim to just rewrap it with a new appendage for the time-being. A little bit of fresh water would help clean it up for now.

Something to eat would suffice, yes. The last time she ate was yesterday; when she took an apple from the fruit cart back in Port Royal. But even an apple wouldn't help an empty stomach. So, why not? "Yes, please, Jim", she responded back to the youngest recruit, in a voice that was slowly recovering from her earlier troubled haze.

Will shot a glance at the quartermaster. What had he meant by that? "Yes," he said a bit wearily. Had she been lying to him the whole time? Concern about Vivienne keeping her end of the bargain came back up again. Will almost marched right back into her cabin to demand an answer from her. But he restrained himself. Perhaps there was more to it. She did seem a bit...subdued slightly and genuine. But then again, no doubt as a woman pirate, she had to learn how to convince others of something - whether truthfully or not. He just hoped he wasn't being suckered in by her.

His eyes narrowed slightly at the comment. She made deals huh? Part of him felt a bit of smugness that he was the one who orchestrated the deal. But part of him wondered if that too had been a slight manipulation. "Lady of the Night, huh?" That brought up some images into Will's mind. The term itself was not something that most women probably wanted to be referred as. At least no respectable woman. But he wasn't here to judge or even comment on her promiscuity or whatever. He just wanted to get Abigail back and leave it at that. He was curious but he didn't feel right asking: "who is she then?" from the quartermaster.

There was definitely more than what he thought but how did the guy even know what he was thinking? Of course Vivienne probably had dimensions to her that he hadn't considered. People were not two dimensional. Every person had layers. Some were more easier to see, others more difficult. But there was always some method to them. He was interested in hearing what this man had to say and what it would reveal about Vivienne.

Looking out over the ocean he decided to hold off for the moment. Wait and observe. That would be best.



Ducking his head, Jim went down to the galley. "Cap'n like somethin' to eat." He told the cook.

The man nodded and quickly put something together. Despite them being pirates, they all had respect for their captain. The food the man put together was some of the better stuff that they had.

Legs far used to the sea by now, Jim had no trouble bringing the food back. He set it before the captain. He checked to see if there was anything else before backing out. She needed some privacy right now and he would give it to her. Going to the other side of the deck. He watched John and the stranger from the corner of his eye. He didn't let the man out of his sight. He didn't trust him.

The Ranger continued to sway, as it lightly groaned while making its way for the horizon, towards a sunset...

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

Meanwhile, on that day's evening, a few leagues ahead of the pursuing ship, was a black-sailed vessel, accompanied by the roar of the wind, and a light groan of its wooden build. The thumping sounds of boots reverberated against the deck, as one of the men made their way towards the brig, just below the ship quarters. Making his way down, the dim lighting of the brig was slightly brightened by a sliver of outside light. With the keys given, he unlocked the cell that was holding the captain's prize: the girl he held captive from the night before.

Opening the door with a creak, he looked at the figure across the barred cell. The face he made wasn't threatening, but with slight pity. "Miss?", he called softly to her. If she chose not to respond, he kept going. "My name is Meeks; I'm the quartermaster of the captain", he spoke with his English accent, as he took in the sight of the tarnished condition the girl was currently present in, from when she was taken the night before.

"Our captain is requesting for your presence, and I've been ordered to take you to him", his speech was slightly nervous albeit softly direct, as if he was hesitant to commit harm. "Please, and no harm will come to you", he waited for her to comply.

The ship swayed back and forth. Back and forth. Being deep in the belly of it, Abigail huddled in the corner terrified. Not that she would show it. After the initial protest, she had been firm - stern almost - lecturing them on who she was and what trouble they'd find themselves into. She hoped her bravado would keep her safe though she was a realistic enough to know that it wouldn't get her free. If anything, they'll hold her for ransom. That was actually a far better fate than she could imagine. As it was, she still half expected more than the rough handling she had been given. Her hair was in disarray, clothes torn - yet not to the extent where she was exposed.

She heard the footsteps coming and rose. Brushing her arm across her face, she made sure no loose tears were visible. She lifted her chin as the man unlocked the cell door. She hung back - though not cowering. "The captain requests does he?" Her words were far more courageous than she felt. Not that she'd refuse. She wasn't stupid. She went willingly or she'd be dragged. She stepped forward, and nodded, indicating him to lead on.

Years of experience as a nobleman's daughter kicked in. Her posture was impeccable, her chin level. She didn't cower or quake along, despite the fear in her heart. If anything, she would be brave for Elizabeth. She had yet to really think about her cousin's death, pushing the emotions and thoughts back for the time being. There were more pressing things to be worried about.

Upon the deck, she ignored the stares and leers as she was lead to the Captain's cabin. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her skin crawled but she didn't give it away.

Finally in front of the captain, she eyed him coldly. "Yoo've made a terrible mistake." Her chin lifted slightly. "My father will have you hang from the highest yardline."

Mister Meeks didn't say anything but watched as the girl stood up, with her head held high. In other ways, he was impressed by her courage, and a few have believed that Meeks was actually one of the more sympathetic on the crew. Unlike most, he was also one of the few recruits who felt that they were being driven by a madman. He's seen what the captain can do, and in truth, he may be a cowardly quartermaster, but he followed him nonetheless. The last time someone tried to depose Captain Low, didn't end very well, and the last thing he wanted to do, was an attempt to cross him. Even though he had good judgement, he was reluctant to even use it, due to the fact that Ned had a few loyal men at his disposal.

The whole way, Meeks had a grip on one of Abigail's forearms, as he lead her from the brig, towards the upper deck. He didn't use force while guiding her, pointing to the fact that she was both young, and a lady. Pity was all he could express for her, and he could compare that he was just as vulnerable as she was. As quartermaster, Meeks was always reluctant. The stares, and a few light chuckles from the fellow crewman kept them moving as they approached his captain's cabin. Opening the door, the quarters of Low were decent; not as rich. But by the lack of maps and books, shows that this man is almost seemingly an amateur to this life, or had just recently stole the ship an amount of time before arriving in Port Royal.

The captain himself was sitting in that wooden chair, a few feet from the door, in front of a decent-size desk that almost looked more like a wooden table. He just happened to notice the entrance of Mister Meeks and his prize; blue eyes neutrally watching her. His quartermaster sat the girl in a wooden chair, that was at a good distance across from Ned. He heard Abigail speak, and the captain only made a dry chuckle in response. His dagger sat on the desk nearby his sitting form, and his right hand (that had two rings) lightly tapped the handle, while the other just laid on the desk, across his chest.

"For a lovely lady, I'm impressed", his nonchalant Irish-English voice responded, having no emotion in it, as usual. For a man to be half-blind, Ned was very observant; the girl had guts. "A sound rule. Unfortunate for me, but sound nonetheless", he lightly mocked, but sounded...honest. "For you, to be found as treasure, you're the ticket for trade", he raised the hand that was sitting on the desk, and the golden medallion hung on the chain, showing it on display for Abigail.

Being complemented by a pirate was not really the best thing. As a young woman amongst enemies, having one's beauty noticed was actually more detrimental. Thankfully, no one had yet to press her. Her jaw clenched slightly at his comment of trade. Her father was very strict about dealing with pirates. However, for his daughter, he would undoubtedly make an exception. Possibly. He just would be a bit annoyed.

Her eyes fell to the trinket that the pirate was using. Her heart skipped a beat as fury hit her. That was hers. Taken roughly from her, the slight impression in her skin of where the chain had been pulled, still not yet faded. She moved her eyes back to the man. It was no use demanding he give it back. In fact, showing sentimental value might make him more inclined to keep it. Still, there's a was a sense of loss. She had kept that necklace, that pirate coin, for years - most of her life really. Having found it washed on shore she had grown a bit attached to it. Though, she didn't know why. The man across from her would undoubtedly spend it or something else with it. He didn't have the attachment she did to it. Not that he would care. He was a pirate.

"What is your plan for me?" She asked turning her mind to a more pressing matter: herself. "I presume you'll want to hold me for ransom - though I warn you, my father won't take kindly to any harm coming to me." She forced herself to meet his gaze. She would not cower. Would not run. She would not let him intimidate her despite the fact she was terrified.

Ned Low didn't smile -- no, he rarely smiled; only making those crooked smirks upon distant, blank facial expressions. He almost seemed to be impaired in both his emotions and thoughts. 'Succinct' would be a better term to describe such behavior for such a maniacal captain like himself. In these waters, Captain Low was, quoted by both his own crew and other bucaneers, "savage and desperate", "peculiarly cruel", and "a man of amazing, grotesque brutality". These were true to the witnesses, and whether he cared or not, Edward didn't have qualms or morals; he was charismatically claimed to be "an honest man of great strength".

The medallion he held by the black string, lightly swayed in the dim candlelight; the skull seemingly laughing in the center. "Your father is Lord Peter Ashe, governor of the Carolina colony", the captain stated in that apathetic voice of his, while both of his "eyes" remained on her. His voice wasn't deep, more like on the baritone scale; not too deep, not too high. "We know him. By 'we', I meant all", he added. "Every pirate who's sailed under a flag knows him", that one blue eye is looking at her now, his tone grim.

"I will send a message to your father in the Carolinas; delivered with one of my men, with the following, in my own words: 'You are a prisoner of the pirate Captain Ned Low. Your ransom, if he ever wishes to see you alive again, is £250,000 ($323,190). Whether or not he applies to these terms, a new contact will arrive in Charlestown harbor with you in my possession. If I sense a trap, or if the demands are unmet, I'll kill you, and throw your body into the bay'", and he said it all in those words. Ned watched her look at the medallion in his hand, evident by her constant, flicking glances.

"I have no gift for politics; navigation is foreign to me", he shook his head lightly, the medallion still in his hand. This time, looking it over, before standing up from the wooden chair he sat in. "'So, what am I good at?', you might ask", Ned would guess, before slowly striding to the girl's side, looking down at her, before bending over, so one of his hands laid on the desk, while the other on the head of the chair she sat in. "This is going to sound absurd but", he paused, his apathetic voice slightly softening, making the conversation be between the two of them.

"I make the men feel better about themselves. You see, they can spot a lie when a captain is sickened by his own actions; they feel affected. With me, when they see me slaughter the crew of the Good Fortune, when they see me cut out a man's tongue for lying, when they see me burn a boy alive in front of his father's eyes, they know", it sounded a bit rushed, but it was clear. "They can see it in my eyes", emphasizing to the emotionless appendages. "There's no lie there. There's no secret remorse there. I simply don't have it in me", there was that grim undertone again. He looked at the medallion in his hand, settling on the desk.

"At any rate, I hope that clarifies things, and that it illustrates why it is only fair for me to fully compensate with my men to not touch you, as we reach our destination", the captain stood back up to his full height, continuing to look at the trinket that's in his hand. "Are we clear?"

It was very difficult to keep looking him straight on. His appearance unnerved her. It wasn't that she was judgemental or anything - in fact, she had a very good heart. Still, there was something...eerie about him. She kept her mouth shut as he talked about her father. Of course, the man would know who Lord Ashe was. Her father was well known for being extreme anti-piracy. He frequently tried pushing in harsher laws - including executing caught pirates immediately without even a trial. If you were caught red-handed then there would be no mercy. Abigail didn't really keep on top of the politics but she could see that every pirate would know him - and probably hate him. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact her status might keep her safe, it could have also backfired.

She kept her face straight, body rigid as he leaned in. She refused to cower despite the urge to. She swallowed slightly as he spoke. His words made her skin crawl. A slight glance up and she knew he was completely serious. He was mad. Insane. He could slit her throat right then and there and he wouldn't even feel it. He would have no regrets. Her fear came back intensified but she fought to keep it controlled. He wouldn't kill her. Not yet. Not until her father either refused to pay or after he paid. She doubted this pirate would hold his end of the bargain. But it was better than being killed right away.

She was pretty sure her father would pay. The man might be extremely against piracy but he wouldn't leave her to die. That was not his way. Though, he would make sure that the pirates who caught her were personally hunted down.

As Captain Low backed away again, Abigail nodded. It took her a second before she trusted her voice before she spoke. "Crystal clear." Gathering her reserve she looked up at him, face closed. "Is that all?"

Ned Low looked down at her again; having no emotion in his soul, while thinking whether if he had anything else to say to her. In truth, there was none. Plus, for him to look back at the golden medallion in his hand, it felt as if he had everything he needed.

"Land ho!"

Shouted a man from outside the cabin, who would no doubt be upon the crow's nest. The captain took his dagger, which he set upon the desk a few moments before, and sheathed it back on his belt, before proceeding to the helm where he was given a spyglass. Looking through the appliance, there was indeed a spec of land in the distance. If one were to look closer, there were a few lights that illuminated on that said-land; the lights of torches. It was Nassau, the island of New Providence, no doubt; one of the largest of isolated lands in the Caribbean.

"Prepare for longboats for landing", the Irish-Englishman told his boatswain, as they steadily approached the mass of land. He leaned against the rail, before acknowledging Mister Meeks nearby. "My prize, comes with", Ned told his transparently-insecure quartermaster. By the time they would get there, it would be dark, with only the torches being their only source of light. He decided to set up camp on the beach, which would only cut any suspicion that he was in possession of something valuable; in this case, the girl.

Mister Meeks made his way back to the Captain's Cabin to fetch that said-prize, and transport her non-forcefully into one of the longboats down below. The captain made his boarding into the same boat, being perched at the front of the small vessel, looking out, as they made their entrance into the pirate port, leaving the Fancy anchored a few yards away.



The beach had its pale sand, and a few torches piercing in certain spots, including the outline. For them to set up camp, Ned ordered the girl to be stored in a tent, shackled on one of her ankles, along with one of the men keeping watch just on the outside...with strict orders to not advance without the captain's consent. If anyone had their way with her, they'll be answered with dire consequences. The town wasn't far away, only being just about a mile behind the palm trees.

He was truly despicable, cold and heartless. Abigail felt the chills run down her spine at his look. It wasn't just the fact of his eye - no, though that was a bit creepy to her. No, it was the coldness, the complete lack of emotion or good. He wasn't good and he was fine with that. The only reason she was alive was because he willed it. The only reason she wasn't touched by the crew was because he had coldly calculated her value being untouched. He....he just was wrong.

She watched his gaze turn back to her medallion. She would never get it back. It was lost for good. But she would never stop thinking of it as hers. She glanced toward the window at the cry. Land? Her heart skipped a beat. Where they already at the Carolinas? She dismissed that. No. They hadn't traveled that far. But then again it was hard to tell when she was locked below deck.

When the boatswain came for her, she didn't fight him. She went along, allowing herself to be lead into the boat and rowed toward the shore. The sea air smelled good - a whole lot more than usual but that was probably due to the fact she had been inhaling stank air the past however long.

It was dusk when they landed and started to set up. Abigail found herself, with some privacy, in her own tent. Though, the chain on her ankle chaffed slightly. She found she couldn't wonder far - the pirates had done a decent job securing the other end of the chain.

Still....

Sitting down, Abigail removed her shoe and stocking and examined the cuff. She tried to slide it down a bit, wondering if she could get her foot free. She winced as it caught at her ankle. She tried again, wiggling her foot a bit. Still no good. Hearing someone coming closer, she quickly used her skirt to cover the removed shoe, stocking and her foot, gently spreading her dress to make it look like she had just been sitting her, innocent.