Two crew mates share a ship in the middle of a Pirate war. Among all the chaos, could love possibly blossom, or will the animosity take over completely?

Name: Alissondra Nicole Faire
Nickname: Ali or Nick
age: 19, quickly approaching her 20th birthday
bio: Ali has been on the seas ever since she could remember. Her father was in the shipping business, and since Ali had no mother to speak of he took his little tyke along so that she would never be alone. She grew up to be as sturdy and tough as any boy her age.
When Ali was 15, her father's ship was attacked by pirate's. Ali was hidden away in the brig, huddled in a little corner. Unfortunately, someone found the child, and she was dragged up to face the same fate as her father and the crew that had become her family.
Just as they were dragging her to the plank, she called Parley. The captain, amused, asked Ali what she would trade and for what. Ali thought long and hard, her 15-year-old mind working over the problem before her. She had no family to go home to- their dead, bullet-riddled bodies were floating in the waters below- and all she really knew was the see. She declared that she would trade her freedom for her life.
And thus, little Ali was taken onto the ship as a slave, doing odd jobs for the captain and keeping the deck clean. She did this for a good year before she saw an opportunity for escape. After a succesful raid, the captain found port at a small, god-forsaken little strip of land and the crew got drunk. Ali took her chance and ran.
She disguised herself as a boy (named "Nick," from her middle name) and joined another crew, since she knew she had no place anywhere else in the world. She's been there since and has dropped her boy's guise in the past year, having found a new family with the crew that helped her get away from her slavery.
Personality: Ali is a hardy little soul and won't take backtalk from anyone. She's fiercely loyal and none too careful of her words. Over the years she's pretty much become one of the boys, able to hold her liquor and to hold her own in a fight. She's still got a touch of femininity about her, which becomes apparent when she plays "mother" to the crew, even those much older then her.
Of course, Ali can't cook to save her soul, and she's terribly foul-tempered, but she's got a good heart.
appearance: Alissondra Nicole Faire
Ali is about 5'6" and weighs in at 126.3 lbs. She has a scar that runs from her left shoulder down to her right hip, across her back, from when she took a nasty fall a few years back. Her hair [which really falls down to her waist, because she's let it grow out in the past year] also gets insanely curly when she doesn't brush it right after getting it wet.
Likes: Ali likes high places, like the crow's nest, and spends some of her time up there, especially when she's mad or upset or simply needs to be alone. She also likes sweet things and swimming.
Dislikes: There's nothing more excrutiating to her then being too far away from the ship and the sea.

[[I'll just add my post to this, so I don't get in trouble :3]]
Ali cursed softly as she sat down, her shoulder aching something fierce. It had been a surprisingly quiet day, and everyone was on edge; even as the sun shone on her slightly tanned skin and a cool, gentle breeze ruffled her red curls, she was still waiting for a gunshot to ring out, for someone to give a battle cry that meant war.
She took the moment on her cot to clean her gun, checking it and making sure it wouldn't give out on her when she needed it most. Next she drew her sword, polishing it to a bright, deadly sheen. The blade was as sharp as a shark's tooth, she always made sure of that.
She let the rocking of the ship wash away some of her tenseness, forcing her shoulders to relax as she lovingly polished her sword. She could see her reflection in it- her hair wild and curly, her green eyes wide and alert, her brow wrinkled with worry and full lips set in a frown. She tried to smooth her forehead, but the frown wouldn't budge. She sighed and shook her head, then sheathed the sword and stood, lifting her shirt. She winced slightly at the movement, then looked down at her side. It was wrapped in white clothe, the right side of it bloodied from a wound she had recieved in a battle. She had hidden it from the others; it was healing well enough, she supposed, and it didn't affect her if she didn't think about it.
She let her shirt fall back down, settling over her hips, then picked up her equipment and began to strap it back on.

Didier LaCroix leaned on the bow, looking out ahead of them. It was indeed a slow day and there wasn't anything to him to do. His medium length- for a male- blonde hair blew back out of his deep green eyes as he peered at the crystal clear ocean. After all this time, he was still astounded by its beauty. He looked back over the ship's deck and didn't see Nick anywhere, so he decided to go and find her. He went down to the sleeping quarters. Her cot was in a different room from his, and most the crew's, bunks. Didier and went down and knocked on the door, "Nick, you in there?"

Ali, or Nick as she was more commonly known, looked up as someone knocked on the door and called her name. "Yeah, gimme a second," she called over her shoulder, then hastily finished buckling a belt at her narrow hips. She turned and crossed the room in three easy strides, and pulled the old wooden door open. She looked up, then grinned as she realized who it was. "If it isn't Didier," she said. "What drags you to this part of the ship?" She tucked a red ringlett behind her ear, out of her line of view, and leaned casually against the doorway.

Didier shrugged, "Not much is going on aroun' 'ere today an' I didn' see you." he smiled a little, his voice tainted with a slight French accent. Even after all the years on ships and around people who didn't have the accent he did, he still hadn't completely lost his. He put his hands in the pockets of his tight, dark brown pants that tucked into his shiny black boots. His sword was at his side, as it always was, and also his pistol. He was also wearing the necklace he always wore, but today it was on the outside of his baggy white shirt, over the strings that tied the open chest together. His skin was fairly tan from being on the ships so long, but he was still clearly white, as he was French. A few light freckles dotted his face, as well as his shoulders- the ones on his shoulders more easily visible, though not whiles wearing the long sleeved white shirt. "What are you doin'?" he asked peeking around her, "I thought you didn' like hangin' around your room by yerself."

Nick grinned a little halfheartedly, shrugging and crossing her arms over the snug, sky blue vest she had picked up. The sleeves were rolled up at her elbows, showing the tanned, slightly scarred skin of her forearms. "It's too quiet," she said. "Captain wants Crowley in the crows nest, to watch for trouble ya know? So I can't go up there." She frowned; she knew she was more then capable of being in the nest, but captain just wouldn't take the bait. "I thought I'd make sure my little beauties were clean and in working order." She patted the sword at her hip, then recrossed her arms. "You wanna entertain me? I just finished cleaning everything and I'm bored again." It wasn't a little known fact that the young girl was bored easily and always looking for something to do.

Didier nodded, "It is too quiet." he agreed, then laughed a bit, "How should I entertain you, exactly?" he asked, curious as to what she had in mind. He looked down at her, being only slightly taller than she. He looked down at her arms folded across her chest and at her scars. He knew she had scars, but he never got used to them.

She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, then chuckled. "I was leaving that to you," she admitted wryly. "Its been so busy lately that I never know what to do... well, outside of fighting," she said, her voice lowering. Her emerald eyes darkened for a second, then the cloud passed and she shrugged again. "We could always go bother Biggums." Biggums was the first mate, and it was no big secret that Bick hated him, and he hated Nick. "Just because I can drink him under the table," she muttered darkly, under her breathe, unaware that she even said it at all.

Didier laughed, "Well, if tha's what you want to do, le's go. There isn' much else to do anyway..." he shrugged, stepping out of the way so she could lead the way. The vendetta between the two was just that- between them. Biggums often found Didier annoying only because he tagged along with Nick in the torment.

Nick grinned widly, her face lighting up in some childsh joy that made her look rather young. "What devilish things should we do to that poor scoundrel today," she wondered aloud, in an overly dramatic way, one hand settled in the crook of her elbow as her other tapped on her lip. She walked out slowly, going down the hall at a demure pace. "Have you any suggestions, my dear Didier?"

Didier laughed a little at the expression on her face. She did look a bit childish when her face lit up like that, but somehow, it suited her, "Well, you know how he hates when his flask is missing. How crazy he gets." he grinned evilly, "We could start there and see what else unfolds?" he suggested.

Nick laughed, then nodded. "Alright, let's do it," she said. "I wonder where that dirty dog hid it this time?"
[[Short post is short D:]]

Didier smiled, "I know where it is. It's in his spare coat, so he can sneak in there in between barking orders to steal a swig." he laughed. He had seen him do it on more than one occasion, and one time he brought Didier in there and did it subconsciously. "It's the silver one." Didier informed her, "It has his favorite rum."

Nick nodded, then held a finger to her lips and crouched low. The first mate's cabin was just down the hall, and they had no way of knowing if the man was in there or not. She snuck up to the door, confident that her partner in crime was hot on her heels, then pressed one ear to the smooth door and listened. "All clear," she said softly, looking back at Didier, her light green eyes finding his darker green eyes in the dim light. "Watch the door and I'll sneak in and grab it." She could feel that familiar build-up of adrenaline, and she felt oddly at peace, a fact which disturbed her for a second before she shook it off and gave Didier a thumbs up before grasping the cool metal doorknob and turning it.

Didier mimicked Nick, sometimes doing things simultaneously with her. When she looked at him and told him to watch the door, he nodded and stood straight, leaning against the wall near the door. If someone were to walk by, he would give the usual signal and kick his heel against the wall behind him, which was the firstmate's and Nick would hear from within. He looked up and down the hall, which was awkwardly empty. All the others in the crew were on deck, bored out of their skulls and chatting while looking out at the waters, hoping for something to appear. That wasn't usually something Nick and Didier did, however.

[[Hmm, would now be a good time for an ambush form another ship?]]
Nick moved through the darkness, her steps careful and slow. She had a pretty good idea of what the room looked like, from the last time they had snuck in here (and she was almost positive that Biggums wouldn't have changed the layout) but she wasn't taking chances. The coat rack was in a corner near the door; light fingers searched the dark air until they brushed the material of the jacket. She felt around for a bit, like a surgeon at the table, then slid her hand into the pocket and retrieved her prize. The silver was cool against her skin, and she took a moment to press it to her face, realizing that she was feeling a tad too warm.
Pray you ain't sick, girlie, she thought, before making her way back to the door.

((Sure, why not? xP Hope you don't mind me starting it. =] ))


Didier stood at his post, and turned when he heard her coming back out. He smiled seeing the 'loot' in her hand, "Good tah see you foun' it alright." he laughed, "You were takin' so long I thought you got lost!" he joked, knowing it was impossible to get lost in the tiny room. All of a sudden, the ship rocked a bit more violently than it had before. Didier quickly caught his footing and asked, "What was that?" a split second before the horn sounded, answering his question: the ship had been ambushed. "Come on!" he yelled to her and ran up the stairs to the deck. He looked around.

The ship must have come out of the cave after they had passed by and attacked from behind. Now, they were side by side. Didier drew his sword and ran to the action slashing at some of the other pirates that had boarded their ship. The ones he had taken out he forced over the side of the ship. When he was pushing one of them over, he was attacked from behind, adding a deep slash on his back to the others he had sustained during battle. He gritted his teeth, turned quickly on his heel and slashed the throat of his assailant. The wound throbbed with pain. The back of Didier's white shirt became soaked with blood. It extended from over his right shoulder blade down the the left of the small of his back, and was deepest near his shoulder blade.

Still, he fought on.

[[No problems here :D]]
"Yeah, yeah," she said primly, grinning wryly and shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"You know that man keeps his room lookin' like a tornado swept through it, had to be careful lest I slipped and made a noise-"
Nick was almost thrown to the floor as the ship pitched violently, and it took her a little longer to regain her footing. Once she was steady she bolted after Didier, her heart pounding as the adrenaline flooded her system.
She became a dancer, her sword flashing in the sunlight as she slashed and hacked, trying to keep up with the flow of attackers. "Didier," she cried, as he was slashed across the back. She ran towards him as he killed his assailant, worry creasing her brow, but her path was blocked by a big, burly-looking man. He grimaced at her, and the locked swords, Nick having to work as fast as she could to keep up with him.
They came to a standstill, swords locked. Just as Nick was about to make a move, he punched her in the face. She fell back, her left eyebrow cut from the ring on his hand, her sword skittering across the deck. She kicked out as she fell, her foot connecting solidly with his knee and fracturing it at the least. She rolled onto her hands and knees as soon as she hit the ground, scrambling for her weapon as blood poured into her eye. She grabbed it just as he reached her; she managed to spin around and get to her knees, and then plunged the sword into his chest. She ducked away from his slashing sword as he fell, tearing her sword out of his torso by his own momentum.
She had no time for rest; even as her blood blinded her left eye, she fought, for her life and the life of her comrades. She didn't know where Didier was, but she prayed he was alright, prayed that this infernal mess would be over and they'd still have their heads.

[that felt epic O.O]

((That WAS EPIC. 8D ))


He had heard Nick's voice call his name as his worst wound had occurred, and he had been searching the crowd of flashing and clanging swords and blood. He saw most the battle with the larger male, as he fought his way through the crowd towards her, a new surge of adrenaline pumping through him as, as he had seen it, she needed his aid. Hsi back was throbbing around the wound, which still bled. At the rate he was bleeding, he wasn't going to be conscious much longer.

Didier clashed swords with several other opposing pirates before he had made his way to Nick. He stayed on guard as she took down another pirate and he looked to her, "Are you alright?" he yelled over the commotion, not meaning if she was hurting, because that was a given, but rather if she was capable of fighting on. He wasn't sure she had heard him, however, because he was suddenly attacked from the side by a pirate smaller than most that he had fought with, but one that was still larger than Didier. His sword met with the other pirate's and the moved in the Dance of the Deadly. Didier was ahead for awhile, backing the pirate toward the edge, and he had noticed he was doing well, but tried to not get cocky. Rightfully so, as when he was about three feet from pushing the pirate over, his vision began to grow fuzzy. 'No!' he pleaded in his mind, 'not now!
He knew he was close to passing out, and could feel his energy draining. With one good thrust from his sword, he pushed the pirate he had been dueling back over the edge, just before he sank to the ground- at least, he had thought he went over. As Didier's vision darkened, the pirate he had fought pushed himself off the edge and walked over to Didier, his sword held over his head...


((I hope mine was as epic as yours. xP ))

[[:D We are so cool!]]
Nick turned when she heard Didier talking to her; she couldn't hear, but she knew he was talking to her. It took her a while to find him, too long, because by the time her eyes rested on him he was in a deadly dance with a smaller pirate. It was obvious that he was hurting; Nick almost cried out when she caught a glimpse of the slash across his back.
She took off at a run, ducking under slashing swords and barely avoiding taking gleaming blades to the throat. She fought to him, her heart almost stopping when he collapsed. She shoved the guy she was fighting out of the way and ran, barely making it to the pair as the small pirate raised his sword. She rammed her shoulder into his gut, causing the man to go reeling back. A swift, hard kick, and he went tumbling over.
Nick was already going back to her fallen friend, shielding him as the last of the enemy were driven back, none spared.
"Didier, Didier get up," she said fiercely, gripping him by his unhurt shoulder. She could barely see- her left eye was shut tight against the blood that dripped down her face and now trickled down her neck. She shrugged away the hands that gripped her shoulders, trying to pull her away. Struggling, she managed to pull him up, his arm over her shoulder. "Get me the medical supplies," she commanded, her voice weak and high from the adrenaline and fear that flooded her veins.
She managed to get him to her room just as the men brought in the supplies; she propped him in a sitting position, his head resting on her bed, exposing the wound to her. She grimaced; it looked nasty. She got a pail of clean water- water from her canteen- and grabbed one of her clean shirts. She tore the shirt into strips, and used a sleeve to clean the wound.
As she tended to the wound, she gritted her teeth, wishing she had been able to get to him sooner.
[[Long post is long D:]]

After Didier had sunk into the darkness, he could still hear what was going on. Everything was muffled and distorted, it sounded slow motion, like time was going to stop. If he was capable of cognitive thought, he would have thought he was dying.
At one point, he thought he heard Nick, but he couldn't be sure, and while he wanted to respond, his lips wouldn't move, so the words only echoed in his head. He could still feel the pain from his worst wound- the one on his back, but he could also feel himself being moved. As he was lifted from the deck floor, he sunk into total darkness and was completely unconscious.
The feel of something in his wound brought him back to somewhat reality again. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was both cooling and painful. The wound was still very sensitive, so even though it felt good, it stung at the same time. A groan passed his lips and he tried to open his eyes. He manage to lift the lids half open, and though he wasn't sure where he was, he knew who was with him, "Nick...?" he asked, needing to hear her voice to be sure. He still wasn't completely conscious yet, but he was enough to see who she was, or at least, he thought so.

((Long post is good. xD And we are so cool. Lol ))

[]
"Yeah, I'm here," she said softly, her voice a little low and gruff. "Don't move, you'll only make it hurt more." She finished cleaning it, then washed the blood off her hands before reaching for the medicine. "This is goin' ta hurt a bit, ok? Shut yer eyes tight and stay still." She scooped the cool salve out of the container it was in and began to slather it onto the wound, the blood that seeped from the gash mingling with the salve and making it look pink. She grimaced as she did the work, then finished and picked up the shirt strips.
As she wrapped the wound, gently lifting his arms a bit so that she could wrap the cloth around, she tried to figure out how bad she was hurt. Her eyebrow was still bleeding, but not so bad. Her eye was almost held shut by the dried and drying blood, a sticky trail of crimson trailing down the side of her face and onto her neck, disappearing into her shirt. Her knees and knuckles were bruised, and one of them was busted from when she knocked it against the railing, and her rear hurt from when she had fallen.
"There, all done," she said, letting out a breathe she hadn't realized she had been holding. "Do you think you can get onto my bed if I help you?" Actually, her bed was looking amazingly inviting, but he was too weak and she was far too tired and grouchy to help him all the way to the other room. The rest of the crew had already gone back above, cleaning up the dead bodies and washing away the blood.

Didier did as he was told- not that he really could have moved much if he had tried. The pain was terrible, and moving only made it that much worse. When he was told he was in for more pain and to shut his eyes tight, he did so and gritted his teeth so he wouldn't make noise either. Last thing he wanted Nick to think was he was pathetic and weak- which, he wasn't, but the idea of her thinking that often plagued him. When she began work on his back with the medicine, he gritted his teeth harder, hissing through his teeth. Hurt a bit indeed.

He still wasn't at full mental capacity yet, but Didier could understand what she was asking, "What about you? Wouldn't you kind of need your bed more?" he laughed a little. Then he remembered what he had seen happen to her in the fight and was instantly filled with concern, "Why are you taking care of me any how. Aren't you banged up a bit also?" he tried to move to look at her, trying to force his heavy eyelids all the way open. He managed to roll over a little to be able to just barely see her, "Looks like you got it pretty bad too. Do you want help with it?" he offered, though unsure if he would be able to carry out what he had offered.

She rolled her eyes and helped him up, easing him onto the bed, making sure he was lying on his stomach. "I'll be fine," she said dismissively. "I'll just sleep on the floor or something. I've got an extra blanket lying around somewhere." She was quiet for a minute, then stood up and grabbed a rag and the pan of water to clean her face off. "Yer too weak right now to be of much use," she said jokingly, her back to him. "Just lay still and let your energy get back up. Then you can worry about me." She pulled her hair away from her face and tied the red mass up in a leather thong, then made a face at the dirty, streaked mirror. A soft hiss escaped her lips as she touched the rag to her forehead- it stung like a thousand wasps, and then some. She bit her lip as she cleaned the wound, making that bleed as well, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.
She wadded up some cloth and pressed it to her eyebrow, then tied it there with a leftover strip from her shirt. She turned to face him, her expression somber. "Well, this has been some night," she muttered, as she surveyed the damage. His back had been the worst of it, but it was terrible. She'd have to get a needle and thread and sew it up in the morning, when he could be moved outside so she could see. She was worried; the rate of infection was high, and the thought of Didier getting an infection and getting sick was enough to make her stomach churn.
She went to the small closet that was probably at least a third of the size of the room itself, and pulled out a spare blanket. After laying it on the floor next to her bed she sat down on it, her knees drawn up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, then closed her eyes to think.

She was right, as he was at that moment, Didier was useless... He laughed a little out loud, joking back in a hoarse, low voice, "What else is new? I'm always good fer nothin'." he told her. He tried not to laugh too hard, because with every movement, his back hurt worse. His chances were not good. He was a useless pirate if he was damaged this bad. He smiled a little, "I always worry about you, Nick..." he whispered. He opened his eyes wider, to see where she went, pushing himself onto his side.