tirgesfu

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Jax managed a good grin to the Captain as he requested a story. “Me and a moon beam. Unbelievable tales are my speciality. Because of course, I never truly kiss and tell.” He laughed and leaned close to the wheel. “Does the Drusk Skate have reason to be jealous this morn?” If Jax had a story there was little doubt The Captain might as well. He was a dashing figure at that fancy garden party. Now Jax did not normally tease someone in positions above him. But this Lightfoot was just that. Light in moods sometimes. He wanted a crew he could trust. But then who does not? Yet this man seemed willing to make that happen through actions of his own, not just words. He gave him a shirt for one things. He encouraged fair cards. He agreed to go to the requested party. And when Jax did not return his positions, there was no tone of punishment or disappointment at all.

There was something about the man that was different than any he sailed under. For one he was farsighted enough to have two woman aboard. And he had attempted to ask Jax’s opinion on things that others never did. In his mind Jax cautioned himself. He had never been one to think those who rule over him could be anything close to a friend. Then again, he wasn’t the type to seek friends at all. Yet here was a man Jax could let fleeting thoughts of being friendly toward in a deeper way than just a grin. But Jax was doing that sort of thinking more often of late.

To test the waters Jax added, “Seems I might have eyes on a feisty woman who does not return the looks in the ways I gave them.” He laughed and took hold of the wheel again, “What an unimaginative sailor tale is that?”

He grined to Tomas and then turned to carry out the orders. “Prepare to Come About!” He shouted to Nic...to the First Mate as he saw her standing by the flexible, in limbs and in costumes, Antonia.

The wheel spun and the sails flapped, luffing as it was called when the sail let out wind and then took it again, answering in the change of the bow’s direction. The tacking of the mainsail followed on its own, wind guiding the canvas. With the breeze of the sea and the splash of salt the bow turned southward. Jax saw the crew respond as it should to the shift of the jibe or the headsail. They were on the winch tightening the mainsail in the new position. Jax glanced back to the two women as they stood.

He grinned back to the Captain. “Use to think females on any deck was bad luck.” He laughed looking back to the sight of the two misfits on the ship. “Tell you the truth you may have changed my mind.” He spun back and laughed, “And that good Sir, is not an easy thing to do.”

He nodded with the full smile still in place and turned back to the wheel knowing he best not be inattentive to his first love, the dame of the sea, this ship.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Go! She told him to go and Max didn’t need anything else. His body leaned toward the opening and he was ready to jump. He couldn’t get out of hell fast enough. At least his first thoughts and moves told him so. But something hit him hard as he was about to make that cross over. It felt like warm whispers. It was Thad and Veti. Veti was calling him back yet there was something in her voice that Max could hear as tired soft strenght. Sexy strength. He wanted to go there and see for himself this new power he felt from that fine woman.

It was Thad that stopped him. Without words he let Max know he couldn’t come back without doing everything he could to bring Daisy with him. And Veti would agree. If she knew. If she could.

“Shit!” Max swung back around and glared at that pink punk girl scout. She would be the muck that sucked him down. Again. He stomped away from the opening not a happy camper at all and stood grumbling beside the death chick,

“Much as I hate it, I’m not gona leave you here. Veti would never forgive me.” He made his stand wide ready to punch something. “Yea, this is me being some hero or just another dick in your way.”

Max looked around trying to figure out what he should do. Just cause he didn’t take the chance to run through that opened portal doesn’t mean he isn't planning to rush them all back as soon as he could. No trade. Not anymore. Death best friend girl was going with him, sure as shit. Now he just had to make that happen.

“I can at least distract Monster Mutt, while you work on this family crap you got going on.” This was her history or something in this gate of death that wanted her to stay home. Or something.

He took a turn toward Semyon. Was he a dick hero type too.? That guy had to make his own choice. With a nod of his head Max gestured toward the opening. He could go. No reason he had to stay at all. But Max didn’t say anything. Why should he?

Instead he turned toward the growl that was growing. Max scrunched his face, lowered his shoulders and howled right back. Come on puppy.

Thad felt Max come and then go. That’s how it should be. That was right. And if Veti ever found out she would think so too. But something inside Thad felt his heart sink knowing he was so close to wrapping his arms around the woman he loved, really loved, and wiping her tears away. No, kissing them away. He could taste them. He could feel her. Yet he couldn’t.

He wasn’t there.

So instead of trying to work through the ache of sensing Veti but not feeling her, he turned toward the space in the colors of things where the death hole had opened and he found himself cheering for those pink curls to make it back. Come on Daisy. Come on.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Posted....... Ah maybe a little clearer than last post. A little sappy too. Ha...who would have guessed.

But as always if something doesn't work.....edits are...you know.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Max was almost on Daisy when she spun and pulled him under. That fucking pink punk was way faster and stronger than she should have been. But the real hocker was the sound of gunfire right behind them. What the hell was that? That shit rag mop shot at him! But the bullets almost seem to surprise the cold grip inside as much as Max. Ice shattered. Like the break of dangling icicles falling from a roof edge the freezing inside him fell to his feet and shattered.

Or maybe it was the swamp water inside his mouth and nose. Or maybe it was the way this little girl was rolling him around. Trade? Fuck the trade. He was getting smacked.

When she let go he stumbled up and let a string of useless curses fly, at her, at Semyon, at the damn cold, and soon enough at the new force of heat rushing in their direction.

Then dead doll did her thing and a wall of water rose up around the new best friends. Funny how fighting bring you together.

“Ok,” Max spit out the water. “Ok. No trade.” Max held his hands up for Semyon to see even more so than Daisy.

“I don’t know shit but whatever is coming don't want to be here and whatever is here sure the fuck doesn’t want it. There are gona be some big bangs here. Let’s skip the fucking fireworks.”

--

Thad was there, sort of. He wasn’t until some warmth flooded through his veins. He could feel it. It traveled all through his body waking up each little part. Max got the ice fingers and Thad got the warm love. He reached for Veti. Not in any movement at all. He couldn’t move. Max was in the land of the dead again and he was a shell just waiting for life to come back.

But he had something he didn’t have last time he lay dead for so long. Something Veti gave him. He could taste her in him. He wasn’t sure he understood what but he didn’t care. It was her. It was her fight. It was her strength. And she had given it to him.

He would gladly take every last drop and suck it up.

Thad couldn’t really see or hear but something was all around him. Energy. The basic stuff of life. There were swirls of negative energy that crackled with never ending absorption. It felt as if it wanted to take all the world inside it’s green and black hole. Take it all. Just pull it in. And once in, it would be gone. But there was positive energy too. Bits of darkness that resisted the life sapping hole. Bright flashes of light kept the hole from expanding. Crimson sparks cut into the side of the green depth. Then a strong line of white light began to thread through all of it, all of them. It pulsed and began to shrink the green light.

They were fighting back. Thad knew the black rips were Syia, and flashes Atticus and the red sparks Veti. He knew them all. He could feel them. But his surprise was the white light and the force behind it. Could that really have the flavor of that song singing shit, Henry? The magnitude of ice boys power only now clear to Thad.

Give sweet face credit.

As Thad felt all this not being able to move at all he tried to think of some way to help. He had to help. All he could think of was the warmth flowing through him. Fight negative with positive. Hate with love. Ok, lame, very lame, but it was all he got. So Thad called with what he had, just the sense of things, just his mind, just his heart. He loved these guys. Even that shit Henry. And Veti. The love of his life. More than that, love in his death as well. They were fighting. He would too. Just trying to add more positive, more light to the deep green hole that was swirling around.

The magic of love.

Shit, don’t tell Max or Daisy. They would most likely split a gut laughing at him.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Ah, the open sea. Jax was standing at the helm, his hands on the wheel his eyes glancing to the sextant and the compass. This was what he loved. This ship surpassed any in the quality of the build, the wood, the lines, and the instruments. Jax loved this compass. He knew the value of the finely calibrated sextant and the decorated effective sundial. These were Jax’s tool. Here he felt right. He could work the Dusk Skate better than he could figure out any person. She glided from the port out to sea as if she longed for the open waters as well. With his hands on the wheel Jax could feel the tiller. Here his touch had a response.

This lady, this lovely ship, knew his hands, what they meant and how to react. Best he keep his love and affection where it was appreciated. Jax bent to the smooth top spoke and gave her a kiss. Sure he could admit he was trying to get the taste of Nicki off his mind. But he was back. Back where he should be, not in some fancy cabin, not longing for some hot mess. And so was she. He tied not to watch her stomp around the deck giving orders and settling things. But Jax’s advantage was a clear sight of most of the mainship. He was noticing her more now that before port. That could be because he danced with her in his arms. Because he showed her the Night Blooms. Because she showed him her books. Because he kissed her. Because he puked in her cabin. He shook his eyes away from Nicki.

He saw the boy from the Inn, Luc, get on board. Now that was a surprise. But not his concern really. He was younger than that, or maybe that age, when he first sailed. Still he wouldn’t have guessed his parents would release him so. And the task they were taking now? Not the best route of a green lad. Still, wasn’t Jax’s problem and his lovely mistress ship didn’t seem to mind.

“We have a child for you, my Lady.” He whispered to the wheel. “Don’t you be jealous. It is just another chance for an adoring lover, you know” He glanced up thinking of that to look for his Captain.

Jax had the charts, the ones he stole years ago and the ones someone managed to acquire that were very current of this area of sea. How they were obtained Jax didn’t want to know. Charts like these were worth more than a ship full of gold. They could bring the owner many hulls full.

Jax waited for Captain Lightfoot to add more direction to his orders. He set the course. Jax had a good working relationship with the leader and usually once clear of land more instruction would be given. He expected the Captain to join him soon enough.

“Sir,” He called when he saw the Captain near by. “I have a matter to settle. A confession.” He waited until the man stepped closer. “The clothes you so gracious leant to me are washed hanging to dry by your cabin. But the shirt is not there. I owe for it’s replacement.” Jax offered a weak smile and a shrug. “The night got the better of me and it was ripped, messed upon and tossed to sea. I will repay with coins and buy you a replacement punishment for my lack of respect.”

He nodded formally and then turned back to his wheel. “She is a bit stiff this morning.” He was sure he would understand he meant the ship. But maybe not. “Seems she might be in a huff that her real lovers attention went elsewhere.” He teased. It was common for the myth of sailors who go to port being missed by the lady ship. But his smile and eyes might have suggested something else. Had the Captain been lucky? Jax chuckled and lifted his face to the wind.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Very nice post, Grainy.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Like the break in an ice damn, a glacier, cold surgered. From deep inside Max it sweeped and avalanched. As much as it came from within, cold also swept in a wave behind the three of them. They were watching her back. Well, Semyon was. Max let the push take him. He rode the freezing ice and directed himself right where it wanted to take him.

To Daisy.

One side cold. The other a blast of sticky heated wind. Something was coming in both directions. Max could understand the grip of cold that took him. It was the fingers of the dead world coming to collect their due. They wanted her. They had him. But she was calling something else. That punk pink headed chick was playing with her reaper toys and directing something bigger than should ever be here. Or if it should, it was fucking well gonna change the landscape some.

Confusion racked through Max, his own and that of the cold hand that held him.

Never mind, Max cursed. It was not his style to figure out everything. He was an action figure. So, go Joe. Go gettem’. To infinity and beyond. Right now that was Daisy.

Max leapt up in the air with his back to the new swarm of creepy swamp shits that surged just as he did. His aim was Daisy. Their aim was too. His hands finally ready to snap her fucking neck.

Right as he lept something shook his body. Like the cry of an injured wolf, his ears rang with a howl. He tasted blood.Not his own but, was it Veti? Max as much as Thad, knew the sound, the scent, the touch, the taste of that amazing wolf woman Veti. How could she….? He screamed in frustration. He heard Thad weep. But what could Max do?

Max was already committed to his attack. He aimed to be on Daisy and drag her down into the cold that wanted her. Her back was turned, his hands were opened, and even if now it suddenly seemed wrong, tasted bitter, he would follow through.

It was a trade.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

What? Damn, she was crazy. As Jax looked at her with confused scepticism he shook his head. He wasn’t a child. Did she really think of him as a simpleton that needed her protection? Yet look at her, one steaming hot mess and he liked it. For some reason he could not explained he was drawn to the typhoon of cold winds and soft curves. It was her off centered look at things that made her more than just a lustful fine body. Jax wanted to figure her out. Thing is, he might drown in the process.

Take breath and dive.

“That doesn’t make sense. You just saw me toss it out the window. It was leant to me.” He ran his hand over his dreadlocks and turned to her. “There is a difference between being carefree and happy and being a child.” When he looked at her flashes of his anger at the possibility she judged him to need a mother came through. “I can take care of the shirt.”

Was it the hangover or the idea that the woman he sat there for hours undressing and kissing in his mind thinks of him as some little boy, Jax started to let his anger take hold.

“Just as there is a difference between leading with coldness and leading with care. .” He looked away quickly sure that he had just said too much. “But what do I know,” He kept his head turned from her, “I just destroyed something that wasn’t mine.” Did he mean the start of something with her or the Captain's shirt?

He pushed himself off the floor and stood, “Damn.” he went to the door sure he should leave but he put his hand on the latch and turned back to her. “I was sure women shouldn’t be on a ship, until I spent some time with you. Now I don't want to sail without you.” Now that didn’t make much sense to Jax. Why did he tell her that?

“I will follow your commands not because you demand it, not because I need taken care of. But because you are good at what you do. You know you jobs and you hold a shit load of them. Someday maybe you'll realize you don’t have to hide so much to do what you do so well.”

Fuck. He might as well drown.

Quickly he moved from the door, leaned down to her, put his hand on her chin, lifted her head and kissed her. Just a kiss. No hard passionate press even though he wanted to. Jax could tread water before he sank. Just a press of his lips on hers wanted or not. He took a breath moved back to the door, opened it and walked out.

He was drowning.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Whoa...powerful post there Grainy. Oh yea, tug on those emotions. Can't really judge joy unless you feel sorrow.

Is this going to end happy ever after?

I got a post FOR SURE, but also a busy weekend. Might have to wait a day or two to do it right.

Tides of Dusk: A Piratical Tale of Fantasy

Did she just call him pussy? Irritated shock rolled over his eyes for a minute. But it was followed quickly by a the realization of humor and Jax found himself smiling again. He threw his head back and managed a laugh that would have hurt his head before.

He put his tea down, lowered his head back to look at her, and with both hands ripped open his shirt. “Oh you have so exposed me beautiful ball busting Nicki.” He puffed out his chest. “My faults and weaknesses seem to drip at your feet.” He slipped his arms out and crumpled his shirt into one hand. He pushed his hand with the shirt inside over his heart in a Jax dramatic moment. Then he spun around and gathered what he had so inartfully dumped on her floor in the folds of the nice worn shirt.

It wasn’t until her floor was pretty clean and the shirt was not that he looked at the no longer nice blue color and realized something. This was not his shirt. He just smeared vomit all over the Captains nice blue dress shirt. Damn. He sat back on his heels and thought for a minute. Well, some story would have to be embellished. And a shirt was owed.

He managed to keep the spilled late night drunkenness inside the blue as he quickly opened that small hatch of her tiny window and tossed it out with force that carried it over the deck and into the sea. Maybe no one saw.

He sat on the floor, almost right where he just cleaned up and took hold of the tea again. After another sip he tasted the stuff really for the first time and made a face that showed his hangover still hanging on and the drinks bitter flavor.

“Now, don't you go gloating over your victories just yet, iron stomach. I plan to prove my worth,” He looked up and grinned at her “somehow.” He took another sip and shook his head to chase the sour taste down.

“If nothing else I can prove to be tenacious.” He looked up to the small round window he had just thrown something that was not his threw. And he figured he might as well share more. "Shit," He added not looking at Nicki, "That was the Captain's shirt."