The busy sea port was a hustle and bustle of activity. Merchants, courriers and soldiers all scuttled about, loading up cargo, making repairs, and doing all those activities necessary to keep the small seaport town thriving. Vendors and merchant stalls littered the area, everyone crying out their wares and trade.

There were currently several ships at port, for the most part they were smaller vessels; merchants, fisherman and the like. But there was one grand ship, and she obviously stood several cuts above the rest of them. This was a real sea-faring galley, with a triple mainsails and a tall proud crow's nest. She had a wide hull, speckled with barnacles and seaweed, and there was a decorative carving of a beautiful mermaid on the front of the ship. Most noticeable, though, were the very visible hatches on the ship that obviously housed cannons, and the beautiful, proud flag that she flew - The nation's bold insignia fluttered in the salty breeze.

There was currently a group of hard, muscled men hard at work on the vessel. It appeared to be in need of a new rudder, and there were signs of wear and tear along the sides of the ship. It looked as if they had been battered about in the recent storm. Now that the sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the salty brine was fresh on the breeze, they were doing some final repairs before putting out to sea once more.

Even though she knew that she would be in a load of trouble—or you know, quite possibly killed—Georgia just had to get away from that horrible orphanage that she called home. She should have felt lucky that she wasn’t forced to live out on the streets like so many other children in the city, but she hated that wretched place and the woman who ran it more than she could bear. And so the night before she planned her great escape, the seventeen year old cut her auburn hair into a style that she’d seen the local boys wear and snuck a few pairs of pants, shirts, and underclothes from the wash to pack away into a bag she could sling across her shoulders. The next morning, she snuck out before the sun had a chance to rise, hat tugged low over her deep green eyes as she took to the quiet streets.

The streets soon came alive as the sun made its way higher in the sky. Georgia had no particular destination in mind, so she let herself give in to some aimless wandering. Besides, she had never truly been out and about among the crowds so she had no way of knowing what was where. Ending up at the sea port happened purely by luck, though the voices of the vendor’s had caught her ear (and attention) before the place truly came in to view. She tried not to gawk like a peasant as she strolled by the numerous stalls with their colorful and unusual goods, and she was met with a scowl and dark glare from a few of the vendors; they probably thought she was thinking of running off with afore mentioned goods.

She had just bumbled her way through a half-hearted apology, when she caught sight of the ship. It was…beautiful. Okay, at the moment it looked a little battered and bruised, but she knew that it was probably impressive when all fixed up in its proper manner. Hastily inching away from the angry vendor, Georgia made her way towards the largest cluster of men working aboard the ship and called out, “Oi! You men need an extra hand on deck?”

The cluster of men on board were for the most part grown men with burly muscles and their semi-respectable uniforms all looked as if they were stretching a bit at the seams. As if there was just too much raw muscle to contain. The men were in a chain, passing along large barrels, and judging by the sloshing sound from within, they were loading up fresh water. Or some sort of beverage at least.

One of the men on the ship set down his burden, leaning against the large barrel and leering at the scrawny scrap of an orphan standing on the docks.

"Oh, aye, like we needs a little shrimp like yeh on our decks. Get outta here, kid, before yeh hurt yerself tryin' ta do a man's work. Run back ta yer mommy."

The other men all laughed and nudged each other boisterously, laughing at the youngster's expense.

Just behind them, though, was a smaller, leaner figure. He probably wasn't even noticed at first - he was dilligently scrubbing the deck with a sudsy mop, occasionally tossing a bucket of dirty water over the side of the ship. He strolled over near the group of rowdy pirates and casually slung his mop over his shoulder. He tossed his dirty water over the side and whistled a merry tune as he turned to stroll away. In doing so, the grimey wet mop head hit the man in the back of the head with a wet squish.

The lean-looking teenager with the sun-bronzed skin gave one merry wink to the orphan below, before racing off with an angry pirate hard on his heels.

Georgia felt her cheeks burn at the laughter that erupted aboard the ship. She started to reply, being the type to have a mouth that spoke first without thinking, but the sight of the burly man being whacked with the mop—and the wink offered by the younger fellow on board—had her raising a hand to stifle a budding case of the giggles. She adjusted her bag and marched closer to the ship in order to try again.

“Please. Give me a week, nay, give me a day. If you aren’t satisfied you can…you can…” she trailed off, nibbling lightly on her lower lip as she thought. “Oh I don’t know, throw me overboard. I may not look like much, but I’m an awfully hard worker.” When I want to be. she added silently.

The girl honestly didn’t know why she was trying so hard to get aboard this particular ship. From the look of the ones doing the work, she was just asking for trouble by wanting to get involved with them. Not to mention the uncomfortable position she’d be in if they ever discovered that she was…well, a she. But first things, first: getting aboard the ship. “I’ll do any type of work! Just give me a chance to show you there’s more to me than meets the eye.”

"Hah! Righ', laddie, righ'... really now, off yeh go." They waved their large, beefy hands dismissively and then proceeded to pay no more heed to the little shrimp. A few of the other sailors also broke off from the group, chasing after the younger washer boy, but slipping and sliding on the wet, soapy deck. Much ruckous and hilarity ensued, with more and more of the crew getting involved, it turned into a right old brawl. Many a punch was thrown, many a profanity uttered...

The tall, lean teenager strolled down the bullwhark, twirling the mop idly and wearing a cheshire cat grin. He approached the younger-looking boy and stood next to him, leaning against the mop and raising a brow.

"Sooo, you want to be part of this merry crew?"

His voice was much more refined than the others, he sounded as if he actually had an education. And half-decent grammar.

"I don't know why you would want to, but if ever the time were right..." He shrugged his shoulders and then extended a hand. "Now's as good a time as any. Nobody will notice you come aboard. And once we leave port, I doubt anyone will even notice you if you keep your head down. You'll blend in with the scenery in no time."

“But…” Georgia’s heart sank when the men dismissed her and she was left on the dock watching her hopes of getting out and seeing the world dissolve into a bar room brawl, or in this case ship deck brawl. Even though she had other potential alternatives to pursue, perhaps looking into becoming an apprentice of some trade, she had already convinced herself that she wanted to take to the sea. It just wasn’t fair that they wrote her off like that, scrawny orphan or not.

“…huh?” The sound of a much friendlier male voice brought the girl from out of her thoughts and back to the present. “Tch. I don’t know nothing about that crew being merry, but…yea, I’d like to be part of it.” She looked up at the boy and the hand he offered, hesitating for only a second before taking it and scrambling aboard.

“I don’t know why you’re helping me or if I can even trust you, but…thank you for giving me a chance. It’s way more than that lot ever did.” She waved a hand towards the city and its inhabitants, none of whom she figured were racing down to the orphanage anytime real soon to pick out a child. “Name’s George, nice to meetcha.”

"Well, George, my name's Jackson." He grinned and led the boy up the bullwhark, skirting around the brawling sailors and tugging his smaller companion along behind him. "These guys are mostly just muscle, they aren't none too smart if you get my meaning. They're easy to avoid once they get all riled up like this. And whoo, is it ever worth it too see the Captain tear a strip out of them for it later."

He chuckled merrily as he led George to a narrow flight of stairs that went down belowdecks.

"So, we lowlies don't get bunks to ourselves, but you could probably lie low in my hammock, just until we leave port. Throw some blankets over you, you'll be practically invisible."

The room was long and low-ceilinged, and there were rows of hammocks lined up against both walls. Each little section was cluttered with the scattered belongings and decorations of the crew mate who slept there. Some had tattered pieces of bright silks set up like wall hangings, others had wicked-looking knives and scimitars laid out carefully next to their hammock. It certainly didn't look anywhere near as reputable as the outside of the ship.

The ruckous up above suddenly ground to a halt. It wasn't hard to imagine why - a harsh, rasping voice could be heard shouting over the din of the sea and the busy port. The gruff voice was loud and frightening. It was obvious that the crew were finally getting called out for their slacking off. After a few moments of shouting, the sounds of apologetic mumbling and grumbling could be heard as the grown men all slunk back to their duties.

Georgia nodded and committed the name to memory, glancing at the men out of the corner of her eye as they passed them by. She wasn’t surprised to hear that they were muscle without much going on upstairs, and she made a mental note to avoid them at all costs when they actually did get out and about on the high seas. As if just now realizing it, her cheeks grew warm and she looked down at her hand in Jackson’s; it was the first time she’d been led along by a boy before. She shook her head a little and told herself to get a grip because George wouldn’t let himself get all flustered over something so silly.

The first thing that hit her when they went belowdeck was the smell. She figured it had something to do with them stepping into the living quarters of salty seamen and it was going to take a little getting used to for sure. Well, it’s not like she could turn her nose up at the place like some sort of spoiled little princess given her previous situation.

“Sure thing, Jax. U-um, Jackson.” She offered the young man a smile before looking over at the rows of hammocks. “Which one of these belongs to you? And…you’ll come and get me once we leave port, right?”

Jackson chuckled at the nickname, but didn't correct George's stumble. He merely pointed out the hammock in the furthest corner. It was much more neat and tidy than the others, but there were still a couple shirts draped over one end of the hammock and the blankets were in a messy disarray. But fortunately, it didn't smell so bad and it only had another bunk on one side. There was a tattered and weatherworn picture tacked to the wall, and it seemed to be of a woman... but it was so worn that one couldn't distinctly make out any features.

"Welcome to Chez Jackson." He states with a grin and a silly flourish. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing until we get out to sea." He looked over his shoulder, glancing up the stairs. "Speaking of, I'd get comfy quick before anyone comes down here. The captain sounds real mad, people might be coming down here to make themselves scarce."

He lifted the blanket invitingly, although when he spoke it was apologetic.

"Wish it was better lodgings, but such is the life of a stowaway. We shouldn't be too long, promise."

“Don’t need to tell me twice!” Georgia carefully picked her way over to the indicated hammock and tried to get all settled in without making a fool of herself by tumbling over; she’d never been in one of the contraptions before but it seemed like it could be a pain if she moved around too much. The stowaway comment made her grin sheepishly up at the boy as she hugged her pack to her chest. “It’s juuust fine, honest. Thanks again, Jackson. I’ll be real quiet-like and not make a peep down here.”

She couldn’t believe that she was actually setting sail with a ship and going out to see what the world had to offer. Just yesterday she was scrubbing floors and kissing up to a woman who obviously hated children, and now…and now she was George, ship stowaway extraordinaire. Well, at least she hoped she could pull it off successfully.

"Heh, you're alright kid." Jackson grinned teasingly and ruffled George's short, choppy hair before giving him one last conspiratorial wink. "Now I've got to go finish my jobs before the Captain has my hide. I'll come down to get you in a bit, so just sit tight. If you get hungry, there are some crackers in the bag there." He gestured to the pack under his hammock. "But I might not eat too much at first if you've never been on a ship before."

He laughed and turned his back on George without another word. He was shaking his head incredulously as he ascended the stairs. He was known to get away with all kinds of crazy stunts here on this ship, but this? He knew he was pushing it, but it was almost like a challenge to him. Just how far could he go without getting called out on it?

He hastily finished mopping up the deck and put his cleaning supplies away. Then he set about the menial task of running about, performing whatever small chores there were to do and helping to carry the remaining rations and cargo above the ship. He was quite busy trying to organize some livestock - small chickens and the like - that were to be brought aboard when he was approached by a gnarled old man with a bulky figure and an old sailor's uniform.

"Yew tharr!" She old man pointed one knobbly finger at Jackson. "I've got a message ye need to take to yer Cap'n. Sharpish!"

Jackson reeled back from the man's rancid breath and extended a hand to take the rolled up paper he was given. He couldn't help but grin mischievously. "Most people would cough up some coin for the trouble."

The old man scowled and one eye bulged frighteningly as he leaned in and brandished a fist.

"Whippershapper! Ye'll do as yer told or ye'll find the true meanin' o' trouble, yeh hear me?"

Jackson grimaced and scampered away up the bullwhark, looking thoroughly alarmed. He was just in time, too, because everything was finally packed up and ready to go. As soon as he got aboard, the planks were raised and the ship began the slow, steady process of leaving port.

The word “kid” along with the hair ruffle had Georgia scowling darkly at Jackson’s retreating back; he didn’t come across as being that much older than her, after all. She fixed her tousled hair and wriggled a little to fight the feel of the itchy bandage wrap she had used to bind her chest. Thankfully she hadn’t been particularly blessed in that department, but she wasn’t going to take the chance of ruining her disguise by going around unbound.

Sighing softly, she reached down to feel around for the bag with the snacks inside. She hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before, if a piece of stale bread and warm water counted as such. While crackers weren’t the most filling thing perhaps, she told her growling stomach that it could make due with the food she had to offer. Well, technically it was Jackson’s food…and his bed to for that matter. She still didn’t quite know why the boy had been so eager to assist her in getting aboard, but she couldn’t deny that he’d be an interesting ally to have. She smiled, thinking back to his impish grins, and helped herself to a few crackers before stuffing the bag back under the hammock.

Georgia snagged one of the blankets and pulled it up above her head. She figured since she couldn’t actually do anything for the time being, the least she could do was catch a little shut eye; the night before had been spent tossing and turning in anticipation of her escape and she was rather tired. Trusting her fate to the powers that be up in Heaven above, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of thoughts in order to give in to a nap.

Jackson whistled as he strolled across the ship's deck. He was glad to be heading out toward open sea once more - the rolling of the waves made him feel right at home, and he didn't miss a single step as the wooden planks jerked about beneath his feet. His merry jaunt took him past familiar crew members going about their various tasks - coiling the anchor, hauling away on the riggings and adjusting the large billowing sails.

Jackson strode all the way to the front of the ship, where another flight of stairs led down to a solid mahogany door. He knocked on the door, a series of short, sharp raps that would be easily heard over the din of the ship and the sea. It wasn't long before the door was flung open to reveal the figure of the ship's captain. He had a sturdy build and wore faded cotton pantaloons. He wore a dark red shirt made of smooth silk, it was comfortable and roomy. In the wind it billowed around the captain in a most impressive manner. Choppy black bangs fell into the captain's eyes and a few black whisps escaped from his long braid. And, of course, there was the customary wide-brimmed captain's hat that threw his face into impressive, daunting shadow. He even wore an eye patch. This was the very epitome of a pirate captain. The gruff voice sounded annoyed as the door was initially flung open.

"Aye, whaddaya want-- oh, it's just you, Jackson." The captain cleared his throat a little and spoke with a much less agressive tone. "What are you bothering me for? I'm trying to map our course."

Jackson's reply was accompanied by an easy shrug.

"I'm not sure, Cap'n, but before we left port this old guy gave me some kind of message for you." Jackson held out the rolled-up piece of paper and handed it over to the captain. He couldn't help but notice the way the captain's eyes lit up when he unravelled the message and looked at it. "Ooooh what is it? Can I see?"

He tried to lean over and see, and got a hefty smack to the head for his troubles. "Heh, learn some respect for your captain. Now, go take care of the rest of your duties, I don't want to see you slacking off until everything is done. Understood?"

Jackson rubbed the back of his head ruefully. "...Yes Cap'n." As he turned to go, however, the captain called for him to stop and flipped him a silver piece for the trouble. Whatever that message was, it must have been good news! As Jackson ran off, grinning, the captain turned back into his cabin and shut the door gently, wearing an almost identical grin.

Jackson thumped cheerfully down into the crew's living quarters and dropped the coin into a small tin he kept hidden under his hammock. After a quick peek to find that George seemed to have gone to sleep, Jackson grabbed a broom and began sweeping and tidying the less-than-lovely living area. He usually despised doing this job, but he figured it would probably be safer to be there to keep an eye on his new stowaway friend.

Sleep, unfortunately, hadn’t exactly been the relief that Georgia had been seeking. Though short, her dreams had been troubled as the dream version of herself ran and ran from countless masked figures that appeared around each new street corner she encountered. She had just escaped her latest pursuer and was trying to carefully drop down from the fence she had climbed to get away when—

THUNK.

Georgia’s eyes snapped open as soon as she hit the floor, and she looked around in a still-half-asleep induced panic. She took in the sight of the hammocks and the walls of the ship—wait. Ship? She blinked slowly and forced herself to calm down long enough to think things through. Right, she was on a ship leaving her old town far behind thanks to the help of a boy named…

“Jackson?” The name was a squeak of surprise as she noticed the boy in question and her eyes widened a touch as she scrambled to her feet. “I-I mean, hi. Have we left port then? Do I still need to hide?”

Jackson looked as if he had been quite startled by her sudden tumble out of the hammock, but he quickly recovered and offered her a hand with a grin.

"Careful, it's easy to lose your balance when we're out at sea like this. And yes, to answer your question, we left port about an hour ago."

He turned away for a moment and when he faced George again, he was holding a steaming bowl of stew and some fresh-baked bread.

"Here you go, I thought you might be hungry. And you should be safe for now, everyone is down in the galley, eating."

It was simple fare, but hearty and refreshing. The supplies hadn't yet had time to get old or stale, at the very least. There were vegetables in the stew as well as some good chunks of beef and barley. The bread had bits of nuts and grains studded in it.

"Also, I've decided something."

He stated proudly, wearing a mishcievous grin as he reclined against the wall.

"I am the deck hand." He stated matter-of-factly, "and you, my friend, will be my assistant!"

He held out his hands and proclaimed this as if he were a genius, expecting a round of applause. As if he thought being the lowliest possible position was a good thing.

Georgia accepted the offered stew and bread with an appreciative smile; the crackers had been a nice snack and all, but this was real food and it smelled amazing. She figured that the food wouldn’t always be so good, especially once they’d been out at sea for awhile, so she should enjoy it now while the getting was good. She started to tuck in but looked up at the sound of Jackson’s voice, one eyebrow raised in question as she waited to hear the boy’s amazing decision.

“A-assistant deck hand? That sounds…” she trailed off, looking down at the floor as she worked through her thoughts. Finally a slow smile spread across her face until she was looking up and giving Jackson a Cheshire Cat grin. “That sounds like a great idea! I…don’t know nothing about how a ship works. ‘M a quick learner though, so I’ll make ya proud in no time.” She was all but bouncing up and down where she stood, eager to show the other that he hadn’t made a mistake by helping her onto the ship.

Jackson couldn't help but laugh at how excited his new companion seemed to be. He was glad that the idea was met with excitement, though. He was going to enjoy having a friend around here. He waved his hand dismissively.

"It is a great idea. It's all part of my master plan, you see." He gave George a conspiratorial wink. "Nobody ever notices the deck hand. You're like part of the background, cleaning up, always there but never noticed. Once we get you out and about a bit, doing small jobs, you'll just... become part of the crew."

He chuckled and dunked his own bread into his stew and took a large bite out of it.

"Mmmph, plus... I only have half as much work to do."

Georgia kind of got the feeling that Jackson was laughing at her rather than with her, so her smile turned a little sheepish and she started working on her stew before she did anything else. Much to her delight, the meal tasted even better than it smelled, and she was thankful that she had been allowed to share the spoils. She vaguely wondered if Jackson realized how many times he’d winked at her that day, but she was incredibly thankful he didn’t notice how it made her heart skip a beat.

“…now hold up.” Beat skipping heart or not, she wasn’t the type to tolerate laziness. “Just cause I’m around now, you better not go slackin’ on your duties.” Her piece of bread was brandished threateningly at the boy before she brought it back and took a big bite out of it, eyes narrowed. She waited until she swallowed before continuing with, “I don’t mind sharing the work, but I won’t be taken advantage of.”

"Don't worry about it, I'm no slacker." He assured George, even as his kicked up his feet and relaxed with his meal. "I only meant we'll split the work even, honest. I'm not your slave driver or anything."

Jackson really liked this guy's spunk. You've got to be made of tough stuff to try and pull off what George was doing - stow away on a strange ship, stand up for himself against the only person who knew of his presence... Jackson was sure that George would ajust to life at sea just fine.

"It's only fair you carry your weight, after all, so a little work won't harm you. And I'll be there helping you out, so no worries. And with two of us, everything will get done much faster." He paused for a moment and then shrugged, a little sheepish now himself. "Honestly, it's just nice to have a friend aboard this floating tub. It will be fun."

Despite his carefree smile, it was obvious in that moment that the boy was starved for some decent company. For the most part, the pirate crew didn't make for the greatest repartee.

“Glad to hear we’re on the same page.” Georgia smiled sweetly and then looked for a place to sit down at as well; there was really no use in standing around to eat anyway. She looked up at the boy through her bangs when he spoke again, spoon still raised to her lips from the last bite she’d taken. She set it back in her bowl, which due to a healthy appetite was just about empty, and looked up completely as she listened and nibbled on her last little piece of bread.

“Yea, I wouldn’t mind getting things done faster. I hate it when chores take forever to do.” She wrinkled her nose a little at the thought, mind going back to tasks back at the orphanage that had taken longer than they should have. The next line surprised her considerably, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. She was calm, cool, and collected and would not turn into a sappy mess at the word “friend”; she’d been longing for one herself for quite some time now.

“I completely agree. So dear friend of mine, do I get to learn more about you?” It was probably the fact that she was a girl that she wanted to fill the silence with conversation. Well, that and it was hard to truly call someone a friend when you only know their name.

Jackson hesitated for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and looking a little sheepish. "Well, I wasn't going to mention, because I don't want you to treat me any different because of it..."

Her took another pensive bite of his bread and used the remaining to mop up what was left of his stew.

"I'm the captain's kid." He leaned back against the wall, slouching a bit, looking... conflicted. "Not that I get any special treatment for it. I've only been aboard a few months now, and I'm still the bottom of the barrel."

He set aside the dishes and tried for one of his carefree grins.

"I only met the captain a few months back, and I just followed him around and hounded him until he let me join the crew."

He laughed a little at the memory. "So maybe that's why I decided to help you out. It was a little bit like deja vu."

Georgia blinked slowly, trying to process the new information that had been offered. She was having trouble working through Jackson being the captain’s son despite the fact they had only met a few months back. Maybe it was a sort of adoptive situation? She didn’t know and she didn’t think it would be too polite to ask, so she finally just nodded and returned the grin.

“Is that so? Well, don’t worry; I’m not gonna treatcha any different now that I know. Has sea life been treating you well? I have no idea what to expect out on the open seas…”

It was perhaps a little late that she was starting to worry about what the future might hold. She’d already bluffed—and would continue to do so—that she could pull her weight when it came to duties aboard the ship, so she wasn’t allowed to give in the first time the going got tough.

“Say Jax…” Again with the nickname, though this time she didn’t seem to notice she’d used it. “Is this crew good and loyal to their own? I mean…assuming I don’t get thrown overboard in the first week, would I be able to think of ‘em as a kind-of family?”