OOC has been updated for Part 2. Not much was added. ^^
Morose Member
✨Krakoan Prince✨
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My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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Too often in life, we expect the world to be motionless around us. It is never the case. While we obsess and fixate over one small detail, the rest of the world keeps on turning. Schemes are put into play, hearts are broken, and lives are lost. Nothing will ever be in stasis - nothing will ever slow down to a point that is comfortable. Perhaps you are rolling your eyes, childishly assuming that this lesson you had already taken to heart. That may be the case, though I think it unlikely. If I might leave you with any parting wisdom, it would be this:
No magic is without price.
Not more than a half a kilometer off the coast of Tortuga, eight ships finally come into view. Seven of these ships are English by their colors. The eighth ship, in the center of the small fleet, has two flags: one English and another in the shape of a blood drop - the symbol of La Fraternité du Sang. It wasn't Édouard's ship, as his was still docked in the harbor. A black haired woman in a blue gown with lace gloves stood at the front of the ship, next to a blonde haired woman in a pale yellow gown. They were, of course, Alisanne and Margot Riviere.
"Do you believe he has finished the task set for him?" Margot asked in perfectly accented English.
"He is the Baron of Blood and Fire," Alisanne replied emotionlessly. "Yet he is a man. If he has not assassinated our brother, then we shall deal with him just as we shall with Édouard's children."
Margot nodded. This had always been the plan since before Alisanne met Edgard. Her love for him was not a complication. Edgard was to murder Édouard and then be executed for his crimes against La Fraternité du Sang. Margot and Alisanne would then later deal with Édouard's children, eliminating any possible male heirs to the title. The two sisters could rule together, as they always intended.
"Miss Riviere, what are our orders?" an Englishman asked. After the British navy found nothing at the Bermuda Triangle, they had been sent to assist the rest of the fleet in the search for Miss Blackwood. All signs pointed towards the flask, Édouard, and Miss Blackwood to be at Tortuga. But why was La Fraternité du Sang present? Why were they working with the English? That mystery will remain for a little while longer.
"Destroy the ships docked," Alisanne instructed, staring at the shoreline.
"Yes, ma'am," the officer replied, before he began signaling to the other ships and providing instructions to the crew. Alisanne and Margot remained at the front, listening as the cannons were loaded and the ships at the docks grew nearer. It would be a difficult feat, yet it was not impossible. The greatest risk was that the fleet may run aground, if the docks were entirely destroyed. There were only seven ships at the moment docked.
"Fire," Alisanne said coolly, once the cannons were in position. The Marigold was their first target. There was no one to move the Marigold, no one to defend her. The cannonballs struck, with the sound audible all the way across Tortuga.
"Once more," Alisanne instructed. On the second volley, the cannons had pierced the hull to a great enough extend that the Marigold began to sink rapidly. There was little chance in saving it.
Harlianne James
Location: Port of Tortuga Docks
Harlianne had crumbled into a small ball as she cried, yet the sound of cannon fire roused her. The Intrepid, the Marigold, the Dwarf, and the Amazon were all sinking. A small fleet of the English Navy, totaling to eight ships in all, was firing on the ships with their cannons. Her precious Bellona was fine for now, but Harlianne understood what they were intending to do. They wanted to leave the pirates stranded on the island, with no escape. "Oh 'ell no. Not me ship, ye bastards," Harlianne cursed. A Captain was nothing without a ship and a crew. She had already lost one of those today - she wasn't about to go two for two.
Rushing up the brain mattered stained deck of the Bellona, she saw the Octobris getting into position. There was no chance that she'd be able to get the ship sailing by herself. Their small crew of three had barely been able to do it and she wasn't unconvinced that it hadn't been a great deal of luck. Her eyes flickered widely all about. She'd be insane to attempt to take on a British fleet singlehandedly.
Well, that was why they called her Mad Eyes.
"Eh! Yer cock suckin' gits! Yer can't blow 'oles in me ship, mate!" Harlianne screamed. She only elicited a few stares and snickers from the crew of the Octobris, as they started to load their cannons. This would've been an excellent time for Anastasia to come back - she had to be alive. She wasn't allowed to be dead. She had already lost Sirena. She couldn't lose her as well.
Scrambling down to below the deck, Harlianne really wanted someone else to have been there with her. She had never been a gunner. She knew the general idea of loading the cannons - you needed to put in powder, put in the cannonball, and ignite it. If there was anything else to it, she didn't know. She had always been a fighter and a navigator. Yet it was her only chance to save her ship, as dangerous and reckless as it was.
She found the powder bag and quickly added it. There were little balls of hay as well and she looked at them quizzically, before figuring they had to be important. Gunners had needed to get more of them before and no one would keep balls of hay around without good reason. She put that inside, before grabbing the only other thing around - the actual cannon ball. "This better work, luv," Harlianne said, as if the ship could hear her. She gave the gun a bit of a pat and then ignited the end. Plugging her ears with her fingers, she hoped for the best.
By some miracle, it hit.
"Oh me god! Honest, guv! Yes, guv! Yes! Oi! 'Ave that, yer tossers, guv!" Harlianne cheered. She was covered in powder but she didn't care. However, as she peered out, she realized that she had done more than hit the ship.
Over on the Octobris...
Robinson Savant had been frantically bringing over a fresh bag of powder. They had been working from an almost empty bag and with the cannons already sent towards the four previous ships, the gunners were running low. In the interest of efficiency, he was refilling everyone's stash with the large bag. One of the gunners had tossed their hat in triumph at their last successful hit, landing it right in Savant's path. And with the rush, he didn't have time to look.
He tripped and fell. The bag of powder burst and it went everywhere. If you think glitter is bad, this is a thousand times worse. Everyone was coated in it, as well as every possible surface. Now to make matters worse for the crew of the Octobris, Harlianne hadn't quite exactly aimed the cannon. It was at the same height as where the Octobris' guns were. The cannon ball ripped through the wood of the ship. Rather than being solid iron, it was actually a projectile explosive - far deadlier and more Harlianne's style when it came to stocking ships. She liked fire.
The powder did its job, catching aflame when the projectile exploded. The fire spread rapidly and within seconds, the Octobris was engulfed. A majority of the crew had been down manning the guns - all dead. And those up on the deck either abandoned ship or were killed as well.
One pirate took down a navy vessel, singlehandedly.
Aravis Zacharia
Location: Near the Docks ---> the Docks - Port of Tortuga
Aravis' eyes widened as she saw the gigantic blaze of fire that was the Octobris. She didn't have to be at the docks themselves in order to see the light. She raised her hand as if to shield her eyes, though the intensity was not quite bright enough for that. The sounds of cannons carried and after the trauma she had been through, she wanted nothing more than to get off of this island. She threw a final look of disgust at Edgard before she sprinted towards the docks.
"That's cannon fire - it's the English." While she wasn't British, she grew up on the Isles of Bombay. She lived under British rule and hopefully, they might even consider her a subject. If it meant leaving this horrible place, it would be worth it. But as she looked closer, her heart sank deeply. The English weren't here to help - they were destroying all of the ships. The great pirate safehold was weak and vulnerable. It was the perfect time for a military power to wipe it out.
"They're going to kill us all," Aravis muttered. She gave another look at the docks, unaware that one of the ships had a crew member on it still, before running towards the one place she felt would still be safe - the Misty Mire. She ran past Edgard without even stopping for him. He was a horrible man. While everyone deserved compassion, now wasn't the time for such ideals.
Édouard Riviere
Location: the Misty Mire - Port of Tortuga
Caroline Alucard looked towards Millicent, masking her feelings of unease. It was better that she was explaining this to Millicent than the child, Luisa. While the flask fed off of the souls of its victims, it kept the same hold on those who had used its power before. They were all connected to it - Captain Swale, Elias Smith, Luisa, Caroline Alucard, and others. Caroline smoothed her dress once more, as if that would help her determine the best way to answer Millicent's questions. The woman was vain and egotistical. Potentially even cruel. She feared what Millicent may become capable of.
"The flask once belonged to a god," Caroline said. "The power remains - and it chose you. Its powers is yours. You can do great things, Millicent...You can help the people of this broken world."
"Qu'est-ce qu'elle a dit?" Édouard asked. He was staring at Millicent, not entirely comprehending what was going on. All he knew was that she had the flask and no one else was trying to take it. With a shrug, Édouard practically waltzed over to the flask and attempted to grab it. He clearly wasn't paying attention, as instead of grabbing the flask, he grabbed Millicent and subsequently tripped, falling to the ground as he passed through her.
"Merde..."
Septima was in no better a mood. She had two pirates screaming at her and Millicent, the little pretentious slut, had what was rightfully hers. She glared at Millicent, readying a hex or two in the back of her mind. If Millicent could drink from the flask and live, then so could she. There was nothing to suggest that Millicent deserved that power anymore than she did, in her opinion.
"Perhaps if you had retrieved my body, you vould not be dead," Septima said, clearly seething. Her accent was growing thicker. "Screaming will not change zat."
Jenna Westbrook
Location: Silver Mine
Jenna's ankle was throbbing painfully when they emerged from the mine. The entire time, she was trying to think up a reasonable explanation for what had happened to Declan, but none came to her. It had to have something to do with the mine and the symbols carved on the walls, but why had it not hurt Finn as well? Jenna could reason that she had some sort of immunity - she could see ghosts. There was already something abnormal about her. Did Finn have some sort of hidden talent as well?
As Dec slammed into Finley, Jenna had to catch herself against the edge of the mine. She scrapped her palms and it stung, but it was the least of her troubles. She understood Dec's reflex to try to see if she was okay. He had always been incredibly protective of her growing up, though she knew that he also had a hard time adjusting to calling her Jenna. It was irritating, but logical. She had thought her name was Gwen her entire life - and legally, it was. But emotionally, her name was Jenna Jones and not Gwen Westbrook.
"Declan. The burns. Explain," Jenna said curtly. She could tell that he was trying to hide them but she wanted to know if he had an explanation. Otherwise, there had to be some sort of involvement by the demon. "And once you spill, I'll make a confession of my own."
Interested, of course ^_^
@FantasyChic She has a name lol >.>
@mnkee Yes, she appears with the others. She can if you want.
>When all of the characters you've posted for today were a bit emotional...making you emotional as well
Virginia Crypt
Location: Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park)
James cackled excitedly at the news that the Deadly Cat (the word tiger was slowly slipping from his mind or more truthfully, his attention) would be able to eat him in two gulps. Peering at Myska, he wanted to get a good look at his jaws. With enough practice, he felt confident that Myska would be able to do it in one. He then spotted the man he rode with giving a bow to Elizaveta and his sister curtseying, prompting a jolt of realization. Recalling his lessons from Alfred in etiquette, James did his best attempt at a bow, wiggling his hand about to try to do the flamboyant wave he had seen others do before.
To say it was ridiculous and adorable was an understatement. "It is my...my...my honor to meet you," James said carefully, with a bit of a practiced air. "Miamor," he then added at the end. He remembered, very dimly, his father saying something like that to his mother from time to time. It seemed like the type of thing you said to beautiful women - especially ones with a Deadly Cat.
James went back to bouncing up and down eagerly when Elizaveta asked him if he'd like to ride Myska. "Oh Ginny please! Please can I?"
Virginia shook her head, chuckling in spite of herself. "I suppose it would not hurt. Show respect to Myska - as you would with all creatures, little devil." If animals were treated poorly, then they would be twice as likely to attempt to turn on their masters. Such was the moral of the sorrowful tale of her father's cousin Violet. She had been trampled by her own horse. While her death was celebrated as all Crypt passings were, the general consensus was that she had deserved it wholeheartedly.
Guilt struck her at the mentioning of Millicent. She should have made an effort to reach out to Millicent that day, yet time had gotten away from her. With the chaos of Mosi's funeral and the threat made against James' life, she had not been as collected as she could have been. She nodded at Elizaveta, fearful that things had taken yet another turn for the worse for Millicent. "Of course. If I may secure James before, I will likely be more collected. But if it is urgent, then please, let us discuss it now."
She turned at the Great Bazhooli's call, an honest smile on her face at his tidings. The day had begun to make her feel weary, yet the spectacle of the decapitation and well placed flattery never hurt. None of the men in London were quite this charming. While she made their heads turn, it was usually in disgust at her training or worry that she was a Soulless. "You flatter me, Great Bazhooli. The honor is entirely mine - I must thank you for allowing my brother and I to come here on such an important night for the circus. It has been too long since I saw a proper Mamushka and I cannot help but imagine the performance would lift my spirits, if I may attend."
Of course, she had a question for the Great Bazhooli, yet it could wait. James, then Millicent, and then - if there was any time remaining - she might inquire as to her family history. She smiled slightly hearing Bazhooli's exclamation about the blood as he rushed off, before finally engaging with Mary in conversation. "I must thank you, Dame Hale, for offering aid. I know these are not ideal circumstances for you to offer assistance, with your new duties as Arch Graveolase for this evening."
Virginia then glanced over towards her brother, who was spirited as ever. An outsider wouldn't suspect that someone had threatened James' life. He had not a care in the world. "I must confess, I do not believe I could stomach food or drink at this moment. Perhaps James may care for some water..." She then trailed off, considering for a moment how best to recount everything that had happened that day.
"The trouble began this morning - I rose late, though I do not quite understand why myself. The gardener alerted me to the state of the garden, as all of the plants but one had perished overnight. Eventually, the carcass of a wolf was discovered, with a blooded note in my trained tongue warning that the youngest will die before the pack is slaughtered. It does not translate directly, I am afraid, but that is the meaning of the message, more or less...Understandably, I began making my own inquiries from a scientific standpoint, as well as writing to those who might be of aid. It is then that I sought your help, Dame Hale."
"I fear I may have allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment today...But that aside, I received a message from my father at the funeral of Jeanette Crane. It came through the flames and I believe he means for me to seek out an ancestor, a Crypt who was said to have found a way to survive for more years than any mortal is capable of...Once James is secured, I intend to make way to the Carpathian Mountains in hopes of finding them. There are many pains that I could endure and become stronger from, yet the loss of James..."
Guinevere Stark
Location: Brotherhood Headquarters - First Sublevel - New York, New York
{"They told me I couldn't so I did."}
By the time that Guin saw her, it was already too late. She couldn't even get a blast out of her icer or radio for back-up when her surroundings seemingly changed. The glimpse of her attacker had already vanished from her mind as she took in everything around her. There was plexiglass in front of her, a phone to her left, and a uniformed guard standing behind her. It was only when she glanced down and saw the orange jumpsuit she was wearing that it all fell into place contextually.
"No...No this is a mistake," Guin muttered, her heart contracting painfully and her breaths becoming shorter and shorter. She wanted to run, curl up into a ball, and vomit simultaneously. She had always had a fear of prisons, one that often confused Happy and Pepper until Guin confessed as to its origin. When she was five years old and watching television at the house in Malibu, she watched Oz. It was one of the most violent yet honest depictions of prison in television - and entirely inappropriate for a little kid. The graphic scenes still haunted her nightmares on occasion just about fourteen years later.
Someone tapped on the glass in front of her and Guin nearly jumped out of her seat. She had heard the footsteps coming towards her, but she hadn't really connected it to the fact that it meant someone was there to see her. She wanted to laugh and cry as she saw her father on the other side - he was going to spring her from the joint. They had enough money to make bail, no matter what it was set at, and then enough to pay an attorney to absolve her of whatever she had done.
Picking up the telephone, Guin found her eyes welling up with tears of relief. "Dad, I am so glad to see you - I don't know what happened or why I'm here but - "
"How could you be such a failure. You are a disgrace to the Stark name, and I wish you were never born. You haven't accomplished much, you are dating the son of a known terrorist, how could you do this!" Tony didn't waste a second as he started laying into Guin. The young S.H.I.E.L.D. agent blinked in surprise. She didn't even realize that she was giving herself a death grip hug with her free hand, as if that would somehow save her from Tony's rant.
"I....I...I have no idea what..." Guin stuttered.
"Save the act for someone who isn't so used to your bullshit, kid," Tony chided. "One chance. Now or never. Tell me why you did this - don't bullshit me or I'll walk out that door."
"I...I....I wanted to live up to your ex-expectations?" Guin said. She couldn't remember doing anything that would land her in jail - nothing that the charges would actually be pressed for, at any rate. Sure she took the Iron Man suit out for joyrides and she did drink underage - but it'd never been an issue. She would've been at home getting reprimanded and not here, if that had been the case.
Tony snorted. "Good luck with that," he said, before launching into his rant once more. Guin felt helpless as she sat there, sobbing, crying, even screaming. The virus and the Brotherhood and the X-Men and the mutants felt incredibly distant to her.
Lizzie Roswell
Location: Brotherhood Headquarters - First Floor Hallway - New York, New York
{"All villains think of themselves as heroes. And all heroes? Well, they're no different than the villains."}
Active Illusions:
- Ayita, Nina, Pietro (semi-convinced), Damon (semi-convinced)- Bars from the ceiling that seal them in, with the gaps between the bars so narrow that a mouse would have difficulty trying to escape
- Pietro - All individuals except for Richard have vanished.
Lizzie glanced at her nails, frowning slightly. Her black nail polish was chipped on her right index finger. She'd have to repaint her nails later - while her toes always were painted perfection, it seemed her fingers' polish chipped at the slightest wind. Glancing up in time to catch Pietro's death glare, Lizzie smiled cheerfully back at him. She couldn't wait for him to run into his sister - Wanda was, needless to say, angry with her brother. He had abandoned his family for no apparent reason. Lizzie's working theory was that he had simply become bored and decided to play for the losing side in order to challenge himself.
"He didn't remember me either, Adder," Lizzie replied coyly, glancing down at her nail again. It really was becoming irksome. Maybe it'd be better to just chip each nail at this point. At least then, it'd be a consistent design. "It is rather rude. But don't fret, Pietro. You'll be making it up to us quite shortly - we'll start with the death of your little girlfriend. And then your entire team."
Her eyes then flashed over towards Richard. He was asking for information about his sister. She had her own missing sister - Max. The last she had heard, she was supposedly going by Mad Max these days. Lizzie nodded curtly at Adder, an indication that she'd supposedly not kill them all and that if they ended up talking, he'd need to ask after Max as well. Still, she doubted that the X-Men would be so kind as to cooperate. One of them - a girl - was repositioning herself. The little thing did seem to be entirely persuaded by her illusion she had crafted.
How unfortunate. It seemed like this would be a fight after all. She threw a clear look of are you done here? towards Richard. The wild child was awfully close to him - he'd take her on then in the incoming fight. Quicksilver was next to the seeming leader of the group. And near them was another unknown member of the X-Men. For the moment, they were all contained. However, the speedster was a bit of a worry.
Taking a deep breath, Lizzie extended her hand slightly in front of her as her eyes flashed bright blue once more. This illusion, however, was meant for only one. While attempting to maintain the illusion of the bars, Lizzie crafted an illusion designed to cripple the speedster ever so slightly in an eventual brawl. A bit of blood trickled out from her nose, but it didn't stop her. For Pietro, he would see an empty hallway, with the bars still in place. His illusion was designed to keep the speedster from knowing his true surroundings - and hopefully, then take him off the playing field.
But maintaining two illusions was taking its toll. There was an imperfection in the illusion she created for Pietro, an ironic one. The only person that Pietro could see was none other than the Adder.
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