[center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/FIrDblL.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1][color=1ABC9C]The Strangers[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=silver]
The sound of his boots against scorched planks was casual, unhurried. The Stranger moved like he owned the ship, like the battered souls gathered before him were already his for the taking. He stopped near the front of the crowd, turning to sweep his gaze over the survivors. The grin on his lips didn’t touch his eyes.

[color=1ABC9C]“Let’s skip the guessing games, shall we? My name’s Captain Beckett.”[/color] He gestured behind him with an easy flick of the hand. [color=1ABC9C]“That lovely mountain of a man there is Gnarly. Need I say more about him? And this vision right here is Rory. Dangerous doesn’t even begin to cover her, though I imagine you’ll get a chance to learn that firsthand if you’re unlucky enough.”[/color]

Gnarly gave a sharp-toothed grin as he folded his massive arms, his presence alone commanding silence. Rory, in contrast, leaned on the railing as though she were bored, her jade green eyes scanning the crowd waiting for anyone to test her patience.

Beckett then spread his arms like a preacher at a pulpit.

[color=1ABC9C]“Here’s the truth of it. It doesn’t matter who you were, what banners you carried, what gods you prayed to, or where you thought this pretty little ship was taking you. That part of your story is over. You’re in Port Verge now. Which means you belong to Prince Ravic Dane until he decides what to do with you.”[/color]

Murmurs rippled through the survivors, some angry, some fearful. Beckett’s grin widened at the sound.

[color=1ABC9C]“So I suggest you make peace with it, because we’ve got eyes on you, guns on you, and worse things than that if you start making poor decisions. Lucky for you, the Prince has a taste for introductions. He’d like to meet a few of you fine folk, see what sort of prizes fate has crashed onto his shores.”[/color]

He tilted his head, voice dropping into something crueler.

[color=1ABC9C]“But not all of you. Some will stay right here, safe and sound with your devilishly handsome captain.”[/color]

Jovik Cindralis stepped forward, jaw clenched, and shook his head. [color=2F8C99] “You’re not taking my passengers anywhere… I’ll go, I’ll meet your Prince”[/color]

[color=1ABC9C]“Uh-uh-uh.”[/color] Beckett raised a finger and clicked his tongue, eyes sparkling with mock reproach. [color=1ABC9C]“You know better, Captain. A Captain’s job is to stay with his ship. Die with it, if necessary.”[/color]

The pistol appeared in his hand so fast it was almost magic, the gleam of polished steel catching the light. He tapped the barrel against Cindralis’s temple in obvious threat.

[color=1ABC9C]“I’m sure you understand the message. But… they do say caution is a virtue for a reason.”[/color]

He snapped his fingers.

Gnarly stepped forward and made his move. His boot came down hard against Cindralis’s knee with a sickening crack. The Captain went down with a strangled cry, sweat breaking across his brow as he hit the planks.

Beckett crouched just enough to smirk at him.

[color=1ABC9C]“See? Just as I said. You’ll be staying here with your ship. And now you’re in no condition to travel.”[/color]

He straightened, holstering his pistol with a spin of the wrist, and turned back to the crowd.

[color=1ABC9C]“Now then.”[/color] His grin returned, pretty and entertained by his own antics. [color=1ABC9C]“The boss beckons. So…”[/color] He spread his arms wide, inviting the silence to stretch into dread. [color=1ABC9C]“Who wants to meet a [i]real[/i] Pirate Prince, eh?”[/color][/color]