A drop of saltwater ran down the wooden walls of Lieutenant Mica's cell, drawing a spindly line down the inside of the hull. The man in the aforementioned cell just watched it, contemplating the futility of the world and some other deep stuff. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and the Lieutenant slowly turned to face the cell door, bracing for whatever was about to happen next. He should have known what to do - he'd taken nearly every training course that the navy had to offer - but generally the consensus was that naval recruits should be capturing pirates, not the other way around. To make matters worse, the ship he was on was one of the most feared on the seven seas - all advice he'd got started and ended with ‘don’t get captured,' a task which he had miserably failed. Someone appeared in front of the door, and Mica had to physically restrain himself from looking up. No weakness could be shown to pirates, not even curiosity. It was from the silhouette, flickering in the dim candlelight, that Mica realized who had come to visit him. A massive hat dominated the composition of the shadow, feather sticking out of it. The rest of the man's outfit seemed to be rather modestly fitted, but that was all he could tell from the simple outline. But that hat was famous - it covered the eyes of the youngest pirate to ever captain a ship. “Introducing… Captain Cyan of the <i>Blade!”</i> the owner of the hat drawled casually, shadow shifting to lean lazily against a wall, hand making some grand gesture through the air as he introduced himself in the third person. “Oh, come on, you could at least give me a little bit of applause.” Mica dragged his eyes up from their stubborn resting place on the hardwood planks. Past polished boots and tailored pants, past a gaudy red coat and the silver bells-and-whistles adoring it, past several silver chains around a pale throat, until he met eyes - or rather, the shaded face - of his capturer. The hat and the surrounding white-veil-contraption covered his face entirely, rendering Mica's attempted assessment utterly useless. A white feather floated mockingly on top of the hat, bobbing in the imaginary wind “There you are,” the pirate said, sardonic lilt and a knowing smile playing over every syllable. “Lieutenant Mica, is it not?” “Let me go,” Mica hissed finally, wishing that he had put up more of a fight to keep the plate that they had served him gruel on earlier. It would have made a nice projectile to throw at Cyan's smug little veil. “Look, Lieutenant, I get that you're a little irked - ” “You /kidnapped/ me - ” “ - but I suggest you stop interrupting me before I shoot out one of your eyes with a dart.” “Just what I'd expect from a pirate,” Mica spat. Cyan just twirled his pistol on one hand, the other gliding over an intricately carved dart gun. “Then maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself captured by one.” Mica's eyes burned with fury, but as Cyan slowly pulled a silver-tipped dart from the ammo bag at his side, the weapon catching on the low candlelight, he clamped his mouth shut before he earned his own eye patch. “Now. Since you're there, and I'm here, you might as well make yourself useful. Why were you and your crew sent to capture me?” “I'm not talking to a criminal like you.” “I'd think again.” “You and your crew deserve to be hung.” A gunshot's loud bang echoed through the corridor, and Mica instinctively dropped to the floor, covering his head. When the moment cleared, Cyan stood steady, the only thing different about his posture being the arm extended up, a smoking gun aimed towards the sky. There was a bullet hole in the roof, letting in a thin shaft of sunlight. So this was the capricious temper that the legends spoke of. His entire demeanor changed like the ocean that he was born to ride - one moment, sun and gentle waves, another, icy winds and high waves, another, choppy waters about to boil over, and another, vast swells over swaths of empty sea. “Say what you want about me,” Cyan snarled, pleasantly mocking demeanor switching instantly into something a thousand times more dangerous. “but here's a little tip for you - you don't insult a pirate's crew.” The fury dissipated like fine mist to the sea. “I'll see you again later, Lieutenant.” There it was again, the lazily casual drawl from the young, volatile pirate. “Hope you're up to talk, or else that shot isn't going up again.” - - - - -
Mica hadn't meant to drift off, especially not on an unfamiliar ship. However, when he awoke, the fresh air on his tongue made his heart leap. But after opening his eyes, confusion washed over him like the tides before a particularly nasty storm. The sky was covered in clouds, and though it was late evening by the looks of the barely-visible sun, the rest of the sky was painted dark with the foreboding gait of an incoming storm. Mica was chained to the mast, seemingly dragged up for… something. He was still trying frantically to put together the puzzle pieces, something he was usually good at. He instantly realized that he had stumbled upon a scene that he wasn't really meant to see. This was some wrong-place-wrong-time issue, and it was abundantly clear that this was the pivotal point in some kind of conflict. Between who, Mica also didn't know, but as he watched, the scene was painted more and more clear. Cyan was disarmed, his pistol and dart gun lying innocently on the deck. The weapons were only several yards away from the man (child?), but for the relevance of the fight, they might as well have been at the bottom of the sea. Cyan was a legend, but as a masked pirate with an obnoxiously white cloak stood in front of him, victory pulsing off of him, something in Cyan seemed to falter. “Take the stupid hat off,” he said, jerking his head at a crewmember standing next to the two. Cyan's ridiculously gaudy red feathered hat was tipped off, falling softly to the ground. The pirate's face was finally exposed, and it revealed something even more ridiculous than the hat. Mica expected scarred features, maybe gold inlay, harsh lines and terrifying might. He expected a cold sneer with tattoos, or perhaps a missing eyes. Mica expected Cyan to be a monster. Mica didn't expect him to be, y'know, a fifteen year old. There was still baby fat lining the soft curves of his features, his blue eyes electric even in the evening light. Bright blond curls tumbled down his forehead, speaking of pure innocence, but the gleaming fury in his face confirmed what everything else pointed to: this was Captain Cyan of the <i>Blade.</i> Mica quickly realized that he was the only shocked one here. The masked man's lazy lean against the edge of the ship looked almost bored, and the crew still looked like they were reluctantly following orders. “What made you do it?” Cyan asked softly, a calm danger sitting on his lips - he had a silver tongue; he was still not to be messed with. “Lux? At the very least, a captain is owed an explanation for a mutiny,” it was said stiffly, formally, but Mica wasn't thick enough to miss the falter in his voice when he said ‘Lux’. But, he quickly focused on the last word, grabbing it and using it as his mental reference on which to mold this whole situation around. So that was what this was. A mutiny against the great Cyan. Mica found himself leaning closer, wanting to hear the explanation that this ‘Lux’ pirate was going to provide. The crew was unwilling to meet Cyan's eyes, but Lux just leaned closer. “You have been an unfit captain, Cyan. You're too erratic, too young, too stupid - just last week you burned up a town because you felt like it. You're a liability.” The crew nodded slowly, as if they had to be convinced of the words. But Cyan's full lip just straightened into a flat line. “A liability? I've made this crew great. I founded this place - this ship. I'm the captain of the Blade.” Lux leaned in closer to Cyan. No one on the crew could hear it, but from his vantage point tied-up on the ground, Mica could just barely catch the words that the masked man hissed to the ex-captain. “I did it because I wanted to,” he whispered softly. Anger spread across Cyan's features, but he stayed rigid. “I did it because I could. Your time is over.” Lux lifted his head, addressing the rest of the crew. “What do we do, with those who are no longer captains?” They were silent. It didn't matter; Lux answered himself. “We exile them! Onto the plank, Cyan. It’s a mercy we’re not tying your hands” There was no respect; Lux was mocking the stunned pirate. Mica felt almost lightheaded with how quickly things were moving. One moment he was on his ship, going after a famous pirate, the next he was in a cell, and the next - well, Mica wasn’t supposed to be here, but it was very obviously the crux of a story for the ages. cont in comments
