piratejournal | voice. Private to the Spades

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voice. Private to the Spades

Come hell or high water, we're shipping out on Saturday. Probably in the early evening. If you wish to stay behind you may but there's no promises we'll be able to return. Our plans are to pick up the coral as we see it, blast the hell out of the fortress when we can and get in--getting rid of anything or anyone in our way until we find a way to lift this curse.

In order to cover more ground, Sun and Moon will be heading in opposite directions. If you wish to remain behind, let someone know. Otherwise we need repair work done and done quickly. Come to me or Namur for supply lists.

Our captain will be taken care of so don't worry about him.

If you have questions, ask, but don't waste my time.

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[Namur is... around, still nursing some nasty burns and looking like absolute shit. Anyone is free to run into him on either ship, as he'll be going back and forth as they re-fit both vessels as quickly as possible. If he isn't on board, he'll be swimming, combing the coral beds to find as much black coral as he can.]

[he'll watch Namur swim a bit, able to see him here and there when his dorsal pokes above the water. He tries not to think about the implications of everything too much or he's pretty sure he'll break]

[Namur stuffs another piece of the Dog's coral into a bag slung over his shoulder and heads for the surface. He hasn't found much, but it'll have to do for now. His burns are starting to sting in the salt water, even through his thick hide, so it's time to call it quits and get some healing salve. Instead of launching himself out of the water and leaping onto the deck, Namur climbs the side of the ship.]

Hey bro! 'Sup?

Nothing. You look like you're enjoying yourself. [and he just likes watching, is all]

Uhhh... sure.

[He passes up the bag of coral pieces.]

Can't wait for this shit t' heal though. I'mma whoop Ace somethin' fierce next time.

[With a grimace and gritted teeth, he lifts himself gingerly over the edge, dripping on deck.]

We still got any a that goopy shit t' put on it? Promise I won't go swimmin' after. Least not right away.

[shut up. He's just feeling nostalgic.]

Yeah. Sit down I'll get it out.

[he wanders away and when he comes back he holds the 'goopy shit' behind his back while he jokingly presents a jar of pomade]

Thought you'd never ask.

[Namur doesn't know the difference from the tin, and won't until it's opened. So he cants his head to the side, giving Thatch a quizzical look.]

Never ask what? For y' t' slather goopy shit all over me? Shit Thatch, y' need t' get laid by a maid or two 'gain if yer seriously havin' them kind a thoughts.

It's pomade, ya mook. [he tucks it in his shirt and then gets the salve] Want me to do it or are you good?

[he'll obviously get the places Namur can't reach in any case]

[Namur snorts at the pomade.]

All good 'cept my back. Shit I'm glad it wasn't one a his full on shitty fireballs. Korra went an' chucked air at it, sheheheh!

[He sits and strips his shirt, then begins to unwrap the bandages on his hands and arms.]

Oh... hell. Can't wait for this shit t' heal up. Maybe y' oughta come divin' with me. Yer eyes're better'n mine an' I ain't found a whole hell of a lot a that coral.

[ah, yes, that. He sits against the railing and watches Namur. He doesn't want to tell him. Doesn't want to tell anyone. But he can't not say something. Coral is important. He smiles, though, because he's good at that.]

That's going to be a bit difficult, mate.

[Thatch holds up a hand, making sure Namur is looking at him before letting the blackness seep and curl from his fingers.]

[Namur does look at him rather quickly. Since when is swimming difficult for Thatch?

But those dark wisps are familiar. Seeing them again, coming from Thatch... Namur's eyes widen and he jumps to the side, spinning to face him head on, a hand on the ground ready to spring. He tries to keep his voice steady, but memories keep flashing, clear and distinct in his mind's eye.]

What the-

[Black mist spreads out across the ground, the Old Man stands in its midst, stripped of his power for mere moments, forced to raise his weapon against a man who he called son for more than twenty years. The traitor cries out in fear, his crew leaps in, guns firing shot after merciless, deadly shot. Bullets rip his flesh to pieces but he stands firm.

A body lays on deck, blood long since finished seeping out onto the wooden planks. The taste of betrayal Namur shouldn't have ignored lingering with Teach's scent.

There's something wet towards the bottom of his eyes.]

How long y' been able t' do that?

[he didn't expect that reaction. It's the fear that gets him. The same that Marco had when he saw it. Thatch firms his fingers up and shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling a knot tighten inside his chest and shrugs]

Since I fought Logan.

[he looked out over the sea]

Felt like the best way...

Had that damn thing on the ship the whole time an'-

Shit.

[Namur straightens up a little, running his hand over the back of his head.]

Yeah... bet it did. Maybe it'll be different in yer hands...

[He relaxes a little, inching closer.]

Uh, y' didn't... take Logan's ability did y'?

Can't say. [he's not sure what Logan's ability is other than the claw things that he doesn't have. Different in his hands, though, what did that mean?]

Who had it before?

[kasldkfslk]

[Namur freezes in place, making a strange grinding noise in his throat.]

Shhhhhiiiiit. I didn't say nothin'.

[Does he look guilty? He's not guilty, nope. Nothing at all to be guilty about whatsoever over here.

Then something cracks.]

Damn it! Told 'em it was stupid not tellin' y'! I'm sorry, Thatch. It ain't really who had it before so much as who's gonna take it after.

[Namur wrings his hands gingerly, finishing unwrapping one of his palms, thinking maybe somehow that looking down will hide his tears.]

After y' found that damn fruit an' showed it off t' everyone... Well. Guess Marshall recognized it or somethin' cuz he turned, see? Found y' cut open from behind, Teach gone an' the Devil's Fruit nowhere on the ship. We was all pissed but Pops felt weird 'bout it an' Ace...

[He finally glances back up.]

Ace went after him anyway. Teach beat him, turned him in t' the Marines. They used Ace t' draw us out t' war. Full on, gods rotted, all-allies meet at Marineford shitty war. Ace's li'l bro showed up an' helped us get him off the execution stand but Akainu baited him, went after li'l bro an' Ace took the hit t' save him. 'S how he got that nastyass scar messin' up his back. An' front. Bastard punched straight through him, burned up everythin'. So Pops ordered everyone back an' ripped a trench in the ground, right? He stuck 'round on the other side with the Marines t' buy us all time t' escape. Captain's shitty Orders leave him there an' get 'way t'gether. Only Teach showed up then, used that black misty shit an' had his new crew shoot the Old Man t' ribbons. They threw this tarp over him after he was dead an' hell if I know what weird messed up shit he done under there but when he came back out...

[Namur swallows deep, his hands shaking.]

Teach'd took the Old Man's Ability. Had both the earthquakes an' the blackness. Done shit with both of 'em at the same time t' prove it. That's what we ain't been tellin' y'.

[He sniffs.]

Shit. Now y' gotta hear it from me when Ace's gone an' done what he did an' Marco's off chasin' after him like it's some bad case a turn the tables. I'm sorry, Thatch. I shouldn't a promised...

[Thatch stared at him. All of it washing over him, clicking into place the pieces he was missing. They found him cut up... but nothing about what had happened to him after. So he could only assume-- Well he wouldn't think about that. What Marshall had done. Turned. Akainu destroyed Ace. Thatch could see the scar from that still and Pops dead. It was like a horror story. Like their worst fears becoming realized.

So that was why Marshall had wanted to see him on deck. Why he'd acted so shifty. That was what he had wanted in the end. And then--everything. He can't even imagine it. He wants to tell Namur that he's lying. To spit at him. Punch him in the face. No nakama would do that to another. Wouldn't do that to Pops. Ace was fine. Pops was fine. He himself was fine. He wanted to make Namur say it.

But Namur wouldn't say it if it weren't true. He was shaking from it. Upset from it. Promised he wouldn't.

But Thatch had two bedraggled ships, a missing captain and first mate and a crew mourning and afraid, new people, too, uncertain, watching him for any sign of weakness. He didn't have time for this. So he carefully folded it away and stowed it for later when there was time.

So spoke evenly and calmly]

Aye. Now you've told me so let it rest. Do you trust me enough to put this goop on you or should I get someone else?

[not accusing or sarcastic. An honest question]

[Namur's jaw drops, then he shuts it determinedly.]

Y' ain't Teach.

[The last word is spit out of his mouth like a poisonous urchin. He moves over and sits on the rail, twisting to hang his legs overboard. He's quiet for awhile, then says softly something he wanted to say for months.]

Sorry we didn't have yer back when y' needed us, Thatch.

[Frankly he didn't want to hear any part of Marshall's name and if Namur said it again he'd punch him in the mouth without warning, or anyone else who said it. He takes the goop and starts applying it.

As for the second part the words: 'well it looks like someone did' want to come out dry and sardonic but he keeps them behind his teeth, the application much rougher than was probably necessary]

Well you have it now. Keep those fledgelings alive as best you can, aye? And don't give into the temptation to strangle them when they squawk too much. [he pushes Namur forward a bit to get a place on his shoulder blade] You're allowed to forcefeed Roxas his board.

[Namur can taste the anger Thatch is holding back, a bitter tang mingled with his scent. He nods, accepting everything Thatch says. Thatch can be as rough as he wants, Namur's stable now. He's never been one to hold physical aggression against his brothers. He's said what he needed, the pieces will fall where they may. And he'll be there to drag his brothers out of the deep when they need him. He picks at a blister on his palm, then closes the fist, thinking how that's a promise he won't be breaking.]

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