06-17-2011, 10:50 PM
"I think I can handle 'em," she said and laughed, an infectious and lovely sound. She took his hand and jumped onto the Poop Deck, grinning when she landed perfectly. She'd spent more than enough time on the sea to perfect climbing the masses. "But, I wouldn't mind seeing a certain handful shot," she shrugged, still smiling. Hands on her hips, she gazed out at the sea, vaguely listening to what Marquet was saying.
"Aye, I'm sure Philip can fix that," Alona offered, knowing it meant something different than what the ship's captain thought. But he didn't need to know that. Anyways, if she and Philip were going to get the treasure themselves, she'd have to be alive as well.
Her large hazel eyes watched the sea lovingly. It was the one place she belonged, more so than Tortuga. Sure, she loved the city and had earned a great deal of respect from its inhabitants as well as the inhabitants of the sea, but the ocean was her true calling. "Auf Wiedersehen," she whispered, more to herself than to Marquet. Staying in Tortuga so long made her yearn for her home on the German islands, but she made do with what she had. After all, there were some ups to having been in Tortuga.
During her gaze at the sea, Alona's eyes had gently clouded over. She blinked rapidly to clear them, glancing back at the brown haired captain in front of her. More than once her eyes had taken him in, but she still had a mission to fulfill and a booty to acquire. Nodding to his request, she hoisted herself up on the banister going around the poop deck.
"The seas'll be churning in no time, start taking all wares and damageable items down to the hold." She yelled the order, eying the crew as they turned to face her. Standing on the banister, she had a good view of the ship and felt in place, commanding the crew almost as if it were her own. "No arguing! There'll be rum and treasure at our destination," she added, rising a cheer from the multitudes of men on deck. Grinning, she looked at Marquet and gave him a satisfied nod.
Philip raised an eyebrow at the feisty prisoner. "Just some advice, miss," he replied, shrugging. He knew he didn't have to take her sass or yelling, but as part of the plan it was necessary that he did. Looking her up and down, he took mental note of her beauty. Such a shame something as pretty as her had to be a sacrifice. Oh well, he thought nonchalantly to himself.
"S'alright, me lady. And I'll tell Chummy you said that," Philip said in a velvety voice, laughing as he did so. Chummy was the gruff, non negotiable cook of the ship. Philip himself wasn't crazy about the food, but he dealt with it as best he could. Hopping off of his seat on the barrel, he opened the bottom plug of it, placing a tin mug underneath its spout. Fresh water flowed into the cup and he closed the spout once it was full.
"Tell me something, miss," he said as he handed her the cup through the iron bars of the cell. "Do you believe in magic," he asked, and as he brought his hand back from where it had hovered near her ear, in his finger tips was a gold doubloon. Grinning, he flipped it in the air. As it made its descent back down, the dirty blond caught it and tucked it into his pocket, winking playfully at the girl.
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