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Keith stayed in the same posistion covered in blood. The door had swung open, and Johnathan was gone, the door wide open. Keith decided to let him be. Keith rolled over, and sighed. He looked into the azure sky and said.

"Why are we here..." Keith said emphassising the We. Keith stared at the sky, and then looked at the other guys. He smirked knowing they were safe, and Keith with no harm, lots of lost blood, but no damage. He smirked as he looked back at the sky and began to close his eyes slowly. He was tired, and needed some time to think to himself. He began to drift off, and was sleep.

(You guys have full premission to continue posting. Actually that would be nice, so something will have happened while I was sleep. XD)

Ha, funny joke from the kid with a gun, thought William, as he turned to walk over to Keith and make sure he was alright, but before he could actually make the first step, he heard the sickening sound of flesh hitting wood. “Great Sophia passed out.” William guessed before turning back to check. "Yup, she must have done a number of her poor ankle,” then whispering under her breath, “Why does she torture herself so?”

Not really sure what to do, William bent over and picked up Sophia’s limp body. She was so light, he didn’t struggle one bit. Even though he knew she fainted from the pain, she almost looked as if she was just sleeping, strands of her red hair covering her pretty face. At that moment Will was sure of one thing, no one would ever hurt her again. Period.

Now turning to Jonathan he said, “I’m not sure what’s going on, and as soon as possible, I want to know how your standing after I sliced you up like I did, but it is obvious that we are not enemies. So please be a good host, and show me where I can take my friend, she was hurt running from your attacks, and she needs to rest and be bandaged.” William didn’t phrase it as a question, and to make his message perfectly clear he stared down the sailor with his meanest look.

She could hear them, oddly enough, talking about her. She felt the pressure of William's hands underneath her, scooping her u[ tenderly. She could feel her thick red locks sprawling over her face, marring her pale visage. She was so worried, so utterly fretting over William holding her. She knew she could lose some weight -- al women could lose weight -- and she wondered if she was a strain on him. She made a mental note to cut back on her eating for the next few weeks.

She was, however, rather happy she had become the single damsel in distress. Mentally she smiled. And with this new title upon her, her breathing had calmed, her nausea had completely gone away. She felt so much better, so safe. Her understanding of what was happening around her hightened as her eyes slowly opened, the brown orbs noting her knees before her, gathered in a strong grasp.

She moaned lightly, trying to move, to adjust herself, onyly to cringe in pain. She whimperedl she had tried to flex her muscles and had pulled those about her ankle far too hard. It was like fire crawling up her leg, hungrily licking all the way up to her knee, the pain seering into every part of her lower leg.

She futilely tried to bend forward, to claps her ankle in her hands, thinking, blindly, that pressure would keep the pain at bay. Her movements were restricted by how William was holding her.

And then it hit her, she was being held by William.

"Sir Fleming," she stuttered, wiping her reddish tresses away from her face as she looked up at him, "I'm terribly sorry. Please... put me down, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt you."

Laughing at the idea of Sophia actually hurting him, a smile graces Williams face. "First of all, you are tiny; you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Second, if I set you down, you are just going to pass out again. So I will make you a deal, if you let me Brace your leg, then I will set you down. It’s up too you, but the only other option is for me to take you inside the ship and find you a place to rest.”

Third, Will thought to himself, I like being called Sir Fleming, and if carrying you is the way to get that title, then so be it. Will knew he was putting her in a position she obviously did not want to be in, but he also knew some part of her, that was squashed deep down inside of her, longed to make decisions like these, to openly show how intelligent she really is.

So there he stood, a beautiful woman in his arms. A couple of hours ago if he knew this was how his bus trip would have ended he wouldn’t have got off. That is, if the William of a couple of hours ago were the one calling the shots. Right now, Will couldn’t be happier, which only showed him how apathetic towards life he had become. The thought scared him, but in a good way, like a base jumper who is slightly afraid of heights. It makes the rush all the better.

The thought of anyone messing with her body in any form --prior to marriage-- sent physical shivers down her form. She couldn't stand the thought of him bracing her leg, yet at the same time she felt awkward within his grasp, his hands clasped about her, something that was so foreign to her. She wiggled about, trying to get away from him, but the attempt was ridiculous and obviously worthless.

She suddenly rolled her eyes, something she hadn't done since she was very little. She remembered very clearly the last time she had been aloof enough to do such an action: She was sitting at the table with her mother across from her, she was giving her a lesson on correct table manners. Her mother had chided her for grabbing the salad fork when she was supposed to have grabbed the desert fork. She gave a grandiose roll of her eyes, complete with a loud huff and an annoyed thrust of her hands to her hips. Her mother hit her so hard, so fast she hadn't known what happened. Her cheek burned horribly, she felt the heat rising into it as she stared shocked at her mother. She sat there, she was talking as if nothing had happened, explaining something about soup spoons.

She never rolled her eyes again, until now.

"I would hope that your interest in bracing my leg has no sexual undercurrent," she mumbled, looking up into his face. "I'm trusting in chivalry, Sir Fleming, and would rather you lay me down, out here on the deck, where I can see everyone, and keep an eye on all of you."

She hated this, hated making a decision. It wasn't her place, in any form or fashion, to direct a man to do something, especially when it concerned her or her body (other than, of course, if he was pushing very specific topics that were reserved for after marriage). Her pretty little face was no longer twisted in pain, but instead showed signs of embarrassment and indecision; she felt so guilty for saying anything in answer to William, but staying silent would have been just as bad. It was a lose-lose situation for the poor girl.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, the guilt eating at her, "Do whatever you feel is best. You know far better than I what to do in this situation."

Keith layed on the ground passed out snoring at that dreaming about being home with his family, eating, drinking, and having a normal life, the life he was used to.

Johnthan then went on to say as he looked up at William and smiled.

"Apparently not...I also want answers as well, but it seems your friend is hurt. Bring her inside, That young man over their dosen't seem to have sustained injuries and is sleeping, let him be. Follow me.." he said motioning for Will to Follow him, as Johnathan walked down the staircase, and back into the bar. Hoping Will was following him, he walked through a arched doorway, on the left wall of the bar, and into a room, with 3 doors in it. He selected the right door, and it opened, revealing a large nursurey like room. Johnthan motioned for them to walk inside, if they were even down their at the time he did it then he said.

"Tend to her wounds in their. I need to go up and steer us to a near by place so we can get things straight...." Johnthan said trying to seem strong, when inside, he had already died. Johnthan walked away from the room, and his boots scraping, and dragging agianst the floor, he walked back on deck, seeing Keith lying there he sighed, and began to steer the boat, to look for a near by island or such, taking out a silver compass in one hand.

"Robin...wherever you are...wait for me.."

"I’m sorry, I wish I could do as you ask,” William whispered as he walked, following the man who until just moments ago, tried to kill him, “but our host is acting kind for once, so I’m going to follow his lead. You don’t have to fear me though, I am only going to brace your leg, nothing to forward for Sir Fleming, no ma’am.” William was obviously making a joke, but on a second thought, he realized it might have come off as condescending. But when William remembered Sophia rolling her eyes, he had a feeling that this woman may just take what he said literally and the thought made Will smile. He was quite obviously no saint, but he always did what he felt was right, and he always accepted the consequences of his actions. That, Will believed, at least made him a decent man.

Slowly he followed the pirate, not happy that he had to put any trust in this cut throat, but when he saw the room he was immediately happy he did. The bed looked soft and warm, it would make a good resting spot for Sophia. Ignoring any protest she might have been voicing, Will sat her down on the bed and went to work.

In military school, Will was briefly going into the army as a medic. The idea of rushing into battle not with a rifle, but with a first aid kit, it was severely romanticized in his mind, for that is what his father had done. His father lost two fingers on his right hand, most of his right foot, his spleen, and had a metal plate put in his back during the last war. He was caring a wounded solder, one from the other side, and he tripped a small mine. He was lucky, the person he was tiring to save died from the blast. His father never truly forgave himself for the incident; he believed he had killed the young man.

The first thing Will did was assess the wound itself. He already knew it wasn’t broken, because she stood up on it multiple times, if it was broken, she’d probably only be able to stand up once, and then she would have passed out immediately from the pain. As carefully and as delicately as he could, William brought out the ankle splint from his bag and applied it to her leg.

“Alright, your ankle is badly sprained, but with the splint on you should be able to walk, but I would not recommend it. In fact, nothing would please me more than if you caught some sleep.” After standing up, William at first backed up a couple of feet top inspect his work. The ankle brace was applied just right, so it in itself would cause no pain to Sophia. Less could be said about the ankle itself.

Just as Will was turning to leave, he realized that she might be cold in her wet clothes. Thinking about the bag in his hands he quickly did a mental inventory of what was in his bag. Three clean tee shirts, one a dark blue, one green one, and one nice plain white one. Three pairs of pants, two jeans, one black slacks. One blazer and one tie (to be used with the slacks and white tee to make a “suite”). Then he had about 4 day’s worth of MREs, they tasted awful, but they had every thing you needed to survive. He had two canteens full of water, enough for about one hard day’s march. Then he had a first aid kit, a fairly in-depth one, and finally, a journal.

The journal had become his best friend since his parents had died. Right after Will’s parents had died; he became a very aggressive youth, constantly getting into fights. Not a good idea at the military school he went to, they still believed in capital punishment, and he still has some scares from those days. Before long, one of his instructors offered Will some advice, journal everything he felt, and he would eventually understand his feelings, so Will did just that, and it worked flawlessly. Ever since then, will detailed almost everything into that book, which was almost full now, especially because of his recent travels around the world.

As will dropped the bag back on the floor, he feared greatly that Sophia might look into the book. But he knew he couldn’t carry it on him safely and he would have to learn a keener sense of trust someday, why not right now? “In this bag, there are clean clothes, food and water. Feel free to use any of it, and if you wish for no one to know about it, just change back before you come out. I’ll make sure everyone knocks before coming into your room. Please, sleep well.”

With that said, Will walked to a corner of the room, there he stripped of the kalis and its knife, and then he also removed the kali sticks. Will then turned to meet Sophia’s eyes one last time, and gave her a look that might some how convoy the real meaning behind leaving the weapons. Then shrugging his shoulders, he smiled and said, “What? Their heavy!” Then he winked and left the room.

Slowly taking the steps back to the deck, he angled his path so he could find the leader of these pirates. He didn’t knock, or announce himself in anyway; he just stood there and watched him carefully. Finally finding the words he spoke, “That woman, she wasn’t just another sailor was she, she was someone special to you.” Will didn’t phrase it as a question; he just stated it because he felt it needed to be put out in the open.

“If you help us, I will swear to help you too. Things are not right, and I want to get down to the bottom of this.” Without even waiting for his answer Will left the steering house. Making sure to check on the sleeping and seemingly indestructible Keith, Will made his way to the far end of the ship. There he stood, a vigil in the night.

She offerd a torrent of refusals, trying to annoy William into letting her stay on deck. She wiggled visciously in his arms, btu his strength kept her firmly in his grasp. She felt so... so out of control of everything. She couldn't even walk by herself at this point, she couldn't move, couldn't do anything. It slightly pissed her off.

She protested harder the moment she saw the room she was to be placed in; her words were ever so sweet, but lethal at the same time, hints of threats lying within her carefully structured sentences. She did, however, take the time to stop harassing William so she could properly thank the captain, but once he was gone she went back to working on William, never ceasing.

"I don't need this," she whispered harshly; though the words were strained, her face never showed signs of emotion. "Please, what you're doing is inconceivable. If my mother or father knew about this, it'd be both our heads!"

She finally settled down once she saw he had successfully put the splint on, her eyes narrowing for only a fraction of a second before her visage was wiped clean again. She produced a long sigh, her arms folding beneath her chest as she watched him move, his strong form dwarfing her frame, especially since he was standing and she was sitting. She watched him turn to leave and then drop the bag again, eying her.

His offer of clothing was generous, bu if she accepted it would have meant becoming disowned by her family. Wearing mens clothing? How vile. She couldn't, and she wouldn't. She was too prideful, too set in her ways, too fearful to go against her mother; she would sooner die from the cold and wet then use his clothing.

She sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over, her hands clasped, as always, in her lap. Her posture was absolutely perfect, the straightness of her back pushing out chest just a bit. She eyed William silently, brown orbs briskly looking over his form as a few red curls tumbled into her view.

She offered a nod of thanks, as he stood up from placing his weapons down. His slight joke had no visible affect on the woman as she continued to sit rigidly. She managed a "Thank you," before he closed the door, her form refusing to relax even while alone.

After what seemed like a good hour she cautiously allowed her muscles to relax, her posutre slumping horribly. She dropped her face into her hands, running her fingers along her temples and cheeks. It wasn't long until boredem caused her to sift through William's bag of random things, her hands resting upon the journal.

The moment she realizedd what it was a wave of excitedment flew through her. This was something she was not supposed to look at, yet she desperately wanted to. She begged for times to act out against her structured life, but act out in a way that she wouldn't get into any real trouble. She eagerly took the thick and well used journal into both hands and carefully slid into bed on her stomach.

She held the journal for a long time, debating what she should do. Her fingers slowly traced the outer edges of the hard cover, flowing into the center to draw imaginary images. She yawned heavily, her body beginning to shut down. She fought as hard as she could, trying to pump herself up to open the journal and read, but instead she rolled over on her side, her fingers lacing around the book, and she hugged it to her chest, like a doll. She drifted off to sleep shortly after; she would be out for a while, probably until someone came and woke her.

Johnthan could see off in the distance a island. He sighed as he heared what William said and didn't say anything, thinking. He sat down, in his captain chair, covered in soft red leather, probably fake, he despised the way real leather felt, usually caused him to itch. He began rumbling through the enormous pile of papers on his desk, mostly trade routes, and deals with others, most of them completed, but their were alot that remained. He put his arms on one side of the extremely long desk, and swiped it to the other side, very quickly, in a angry like sweep, knocking everything off of his desk. Johnathan was beyond words.

Johnthan looked off into the distance, and thought of Robin, and his pirates. He was beyond mad, he was beyond emotions. All his life had been at sea, and building what had just been taken from him. His life had been obliterated with the apperance of these odd people. He still didn't trust them, but if he didn't get what he deserved back, he knew he would have to kill them. The only thing that he feared at this point, was Keith, and that inner forcefull power he had used up on deck. That suprised Johnathan more than he thought it would. He began to move his leg up and down, beating it agianst the floor, as he sat back down in his chair, and rolled up to his desk, as he sat his elbows down gently on the desk, using his arms to support his head, as he looked into nothingness, wondering how this could have happened. He could remember how this all began, and flashbacks came back quicker than a Tsunami.

Keith was still dreaming as his dream seemed to get more and more strange. He began to see the people that he had just met, in his dream. They appeared to be normal people, but he knew that they were not who they appeared to be. Within his dream, it had been 3 days, and he had considered what had happend a dream. He was deep within the dream.

"Mom whats for dinner?" Keith said scooting the hard maple chair up to the maple wood table, layed out with silverware, and eating utensils. His mom responded with a groan from the kitchen, but not a normal groan. It sounded like the groan of some type of sci-fi movie creature you would watch on the sci-fi channel. Keith felt a chill up his spine.

Keith picked up the butter knife, and fork next to him, as he walked very slowly, pacing himself, and bracing himself for the worst. He put his hand on the doorknob, that he didn't remember being their, as well as a door that led to the kitched. His breathing got heavy as he thought inside.

"Ok....Ok....here we go..." he said as he opened the door, and before he could do anything a enourmous flash of light. Keith was blinded causing him to fall to his knees. He begin to pant, as for the first few seconds, he was completely blinded. His vision began to regain its rightfull place, and began to see normal agian, as Keith was now in a completely white room. It looked like it went on for billions of miles, as far as the eye could see. He looked up, and someone was standing before him.

http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g316/ ... oddess.jpg




The voice said, a nice soothing voice, that seemed to float into his ear drums, it was nice and light like a floating feather. Keith backed up some, as he was now on his bottom, with his hands behind him, as well as arms supporting him to sit up. The woman's eyes were closed, and hadn't opened, and didn't look like they were going to open either.



The godess said nodding then saying.

"I choose the right person I see...you are perfect. Go on, and help your comrades..your Journey has mearly just begun.." She said as she began to fade a little bit every second, Keith quickly stood, and walked over to her.

"Wait! Whats going on? I need an explanation?! What am I supposed to do!?" he said as the goddess was gone. Keith had no idea what had just happend and his brain was still piecing it together, as everything cracked like glass, and shattered, thats when he awoke, sweating, panting. He awoke looking into the sky, as he quickly turned away, standing, not seeming injured, he looked around, then dead ahead at the approaching island, though it still appeared to be a dot. He needed answers, and he hoped to find them soon. Keith continued to look, but then he squinted his eyes.

"A...Their is a tower on that island...wow.." he said as the tower came in view, as if just appearing, the tower went threw the clouds, a sky scrapper as Keith looked on he thought.

".....Journey.."

Will heard Keith’s mumbling, but he was completely absorbed into his own thoughts. Thoughts of his parents, thoughts of the future, and even thoughts of Sophia, but it was all swept away by the tower. The tower seemed almost as if it was miles high. Fear caused blood to pound in Will’s ears, and he could not hear. Fear forced the blood away from his limbs, and he could not feel. Fear turned his vision red, and he could not see.

There Will stood no longer a vigil, but a cold, unfeeling, unseeing statue. His thoughts turned to his internal promise to Sophia. How could he protect her when a simple tower froze him so? Forcing himself to move Will took a step backwards. It seemed to take ages but the next step came. Then another, then another, and before Will knew it, he had to slow himself to stop from running. I have to wake Sophia, I just wish I could have gave her more time to rest.

Briefly Will turned to Keith, “Hey Keith, you gather everyone else, I’ll grab Sophia. Hurry, we are all counting on you.” It made Will angry but it was true. Even if the only threats in this place were hydras, Will would be powerless to save even himself, not to mention everyone else.

Not waiting for Keith’s answer, rushed into the ship. It took only a matter of minutes to find the room again. As he suspected it was shut tight, just as he left it. Loathing the idea of waking her, Will nevertheless still pounded on the wooden portal. “I’m sorry Sophia, but it’s time to wake. Something has. . . come up.” Will spoke, in a gentle tone.

She was sound asleep.

Her lips were parted slightly, a light snore arising from her thin frame. She didn't even hear him, at least not consciously. She gave an uninterpretable mumble, loud enough for him to hear through the door, but it meant nothing.

She rolled over, flinging her form around to her other side. She had a death grip on the journal, her arms criss-crossed against her chest, the pages meshed between her arms breasts. Oddly enough she manuvuered the book, slipping the edge of it into her mouth; she was chewing on it in her sleep.

At home she slept with a small stuffed bear; it was given to her at her birth. She hadn't missed a nap or any form of sleep without it. It was just bigger than her palm, and pink, with a white heart-shaped nose and pretty azure glass eyes. She loved that bear. It was highly irresponsible of a young lady her age to sleep with such an object, for it denoted that perhaps she required a secondary body in her bed to sleep, which, of course, led to the thought she was promiscious, but she didn't care. This was the one thing she openly did that thoroughly upset her mother every day. That bear was the one thing that allowed her to calm down during the night; Sophia hated the dark.

Anything connected with darkness, actual darkness, ghosts, things that go bump in the night... it terrified her. Hence the reason why the hydra had given her such a fright, it wasn't directly connected with darkness... but it was definately a 'bump in the night' creature for her.

And her bear, named Andy, kept her calm through it all. She talked to her, sang to her, and cuddled her every night. She was her baby, she was her piece of rebellion.

And she loved her.

And a horrible habit she picked up over the years, probably since she was a youngling, for she can never remember a time when she didn't, was sucking on the ear of the bear for comfort. And so she substituted William's journal for her bear. And she was rather happy and content.

And so she slept on, sucking on the edge of his book, a light snore slipping from her.

A mumble, was she awake? Was she hurt? Should I go in? Questions revolved around his head. If I were to enter the room and she was in an . . . . embarrassing situation, she would probably never forgive me. But if she was hurt and needed help, and all I did was stay out here and wait, how could I ever forgive myself? That’s it I’m going in.

Only the slightest creek escaped the hinges as Will slowly pressed the door forward. As soon as the door was open just enough to fit his body his right hand slipped down to his Filipino Karambit. Its curved blade made it equally good as a multipurpose tool, as a weapon made to take someone’s life. After removing it from it’s resting place, Will slipped in.

To his surprise, Sophia was simply sleeping. With a spin and a twirl, William put the blade away. Deciding to just shake her awake, William strolled over to where she was sleeping. When he was only a couple of feet away, he noticed the book. At first he thought it was a book she found in the room, but it seemed oddly familiar. With a quick scan, William realized there were no book selves in the room, so he decided to get a closer look. With his face only several inches away, he realized why that book should look so familiar; it held every secret, ever dream and hope, every nightmare in the dark that Will had experienced since he was only 13 years old.

Fury erupted inside of William; it was an old friend of his. It used to run wild, and now it was taking a chance to erode William’s will. When Will evaluated his feelings over his journal, he had underplayed what it had done for me, and all at once he remembered a particularly gruesome passage. It was about the day he found his father, the top of his skull missing. . .

Will is only 13 years old. His dark hair is cut in the same manor as is now, but his blue eyes are a number of shades lighter. Some baby fat still hung onto his frame and he has still obviously not had much of a growth spurt just yet. However he is strong for his age and he is very smart. In fact, he is just coming home from a study group, something most people only have to experience once they make it into college, but for Will, it is just a normal fact of life.

Slowly Will walks up to the mansion of a house. It has always been more than Will’s small family has ever needed, and after his mother’s death it has seemed particular empty and sad. Sometimes, Will could even imagine the house as a person’s face; darkened windows representing soulless eyes, its white faded paint the sickly pale skin of someone who is afraid of the warming light of the sun, the pale red door a mouth screaming in pain. William hated the house, it scared him, it made him feel soulless, but his father refused to move, and he loved his father.

Slipping inside the giant house, a shiver ran through his small body. His father rarely paid attention to anything now, and even though they had enough money to run the heaters of everyone on the block for years, his dad often let it get dangerously cold during the day. Will hurried to the climate control, turning it way up. He knew it would take at least 15 minutes for the heat to kick in, so Will decided to go find his father and give him his jacket. William will later remember that decision as the worst he had ever made in his life.

The stairs creaked under Will’s weight and the sound shook him to his core. All of the lights in the house were off and it made him claustrophobic. The musty smell invaded his nose, driving him to sneeze. All of his senses assaulted him, almost as if some part of his brain was trying to force him back down stairs, but William knew his father must be cold and he would not back down. It wasn’t in his blood too.

Even though it felt like an eternity it was only a few minutes of walking before Will finally reached his dad’s room, the only one lighted in the entire house. Walking into the room, Will couldn’t believe what he saw. The top portion of Will’s father, his name was also William (in fact, his father, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father, all of them have been named William, they just don’t add the number afterwards. No one is sure why, maybe they just lost count), head was blown clean off. Laid right next to the body was a shotgun, the one which later would be presumed to have went off accidentally, and on the other side of the body laid a picture of William’s mother.

Will couldn’t take it, his stomach lurch, and he vomited everything his stomach held, and then he passed out. When he came too, he crawled to the phone and dialed 911. He remembered vaguely telling the operator that his father was hurt, and he needed an ambulance immediately. Why did he lie, he knew that no one could survive that, but Will’s mind just couldn’t process it. There Will laid down and curled up in the fetal position, not moving for hours, not even moving when the paramedics came and asked if he was alright. No, a part of him never moved again after that day.

Remembering that day Will began to shake. He wasn’t mad anymore, he was just devastated. But a slight mumble and a snore can from Sophia and it snapped him back to reality. He took a moment to examine the situation closer. She wasn’t holding it like someone who fell asleep reading, with it barely hanging in her fingers. No, instead she has an iron grip on it, crushing it to her chest like some small, scarred child would hold a safety blanket. Even as deeply absorbed by his misery Will had been, he could see the happiness in his face, and the way she sucked on the book was amazing adorable. Will’s rage all but disappears.

Taking a few steps back, Will realizes that she can be woken later; they still had time before he made it to the island. Even though he knew she could not hear him, he still felt the need to whisper, “Be careful with that Sophia, for you hold my heart there in you arms. Do not be harsh or condescending, for it will be like dragging sand paper across my soul, and it can not take it. In that book you suck on, all of my fears, all of my pain, and what little hopes I have rest, and if you were to tear through it with your teeth, it might as well be my flesh.” And with that Will rushed from the room, only stopping to pick up his sword and the knife it was paired with. Slowly closing the door Will moved to the deck to find out what progress Keith has made.

Keith stares as they approach getting closer to the island, drifting amongst the sturdy melodic sea, carrying them across the ocean to their next destination. Keith stared on as the island got wider and came in view, expanding beind wider than he expected, and it almost seemed like a Continent. He stood on the point, the very edge of the huge boat, the wind brushing agianst him. He realized after sneezing that he didn't have a shirt on, and as he gritted his teeth, he turned and right as he did, he was thrown some clothes, kind of like a uniform. Keith's reflex's had excelled since realizing he was in this alternate realm, and since realizing that he had such powers.

"Their, I thought you might need that, your clothes seemed a bit messed up so I thought I would give ya some...Eh...Sorry about earlier and the attack..."

Johnthan said as he tapped the handle of his sterling silver rapier like blade, making a tap noise as it did so. Johnthan, looked down at the wooden floor. He looked back up into Keith's eyes, as if he was trying to be sure that they were on the same page. Johnthan, seemed to be reading Keith, and it seemed that he was getting into his head. Keith mimiced him, so he wouldn't look stupid, and besides it might have been a custom of the people in this realm. Johnthan smiled after a slight pause. he tapped his blade fasted and said.

"I am assuming I can trust you and your group. You have the eye's of a strong willed man...even if you don't know it..." he said as he smiled even brighter.

"Seems that destiny has brought you here, and I am glad I met you...Keith right?" Johnthan said lifting his hand out to shake Keith's. Keith hesitated, but to avail, Keith shook his hand firmly, since Johnthan had such a grip on his hand. Keith smirked as he knew that they were finnaly getting out on the right foot.

"We are approaching a nearby island...I checked my map, but sadily its a tad outdated, so this island isn't on it.." Johnthan said as they seemed to be nearing the island. They were close, and they were soon to dock the shores of the island. Keith looked on, and began to think about the last time he went in the woods, what had happened, he remembered vividly.

Walking up the dirt road with Yuffie, he remembered them to talking about how they had done in school. They were still just getting to know each other, and Yuffie was still a bit distant from Keith, because as Keith knew now, she wasn't able, or premitted to touch human's. Rion continued to walk, and then walked ahead of Yuffie, and turned around walking backwards. They continued talking pleasently when out of the blue, he was hit directly in the back of the head, with what seemed to be a stick. He hit the ground faster than he could say "Wha?". He squirmed on the ground, as the bully turned him around, and commenced the beating.

Keith had gotten up, and ran towards Yuffie, bloody faced, as he grabbed her and ran. As he rounded a corner in the woods, he was hit directly in the face, with a fist, a rough fist too. He hit the ground, and Yuffie backed up, as the bully began to pick on her as well. Keith was hit a few more times, before the bullies hit Yuffie as well, talking about her, and attempting to hurt her feelings. It ended with Keith getting spit on, and them walking away laughing. The worst day of Keith's life.

Keith crawled over to Yuffie the bones in his body broken, as he made it to her. She hugged him as fast as she could, but Keith pushed her off. They were only attacking him because he hung out with her. He crawled away from her, crying, and screaming. He wanted to be alone, atleast at the time he did....

Keith blinked, and the dream was gone as they were seconds from docking, it seemed that the place was more like a port, a small one, with actuall people in town. Keith prepared, and looked back as William came out on deck.

"We have reached, "The Island" " Keith said as Johnthan chuckled a bit. Keith looked out to see some people trading items, and unloading the ships, it was as if they were no where near the time period they had been in before.










(In my next post when he gets dressed he will look like this http://i196.photobucket.com/albums/aa71 ... ime160.jpg)

For some reason William was tired when he got to the deck. He was sure his weariness wasn’t physical, but his body felt so heavy. Walking to the middle of the deck, William listened to Keith as he stared out at the island. For no reason at all, William felt bad. He didn’t have an upset stomach, his joints weren’t achy, and he didn’t feel feverish. It was almost like he could feel the emotional pain of the future when he stared at the island and he couldn’t figure out why.

After a few minutes of looking out to the island, William spun around and headed back down into the ship. He passed both Keith and Jonathan, but he said nothing. This time he did not dread the creaking of the steps, nor did the trip seem to take forever. Instead it just felt normal, and that was just weird. After all that has happened how can anything feel normal? William thought.

Shaking his head and pushing the thoughts out of his mind, Will knocked on the door, this time hard enough to wake anyone. “I’m sorry Sophia, but we have reached town. I’ll be right outside the door, let me know if you need some help. Oh, and I hope your nap went well.” Will spoke with the hint of a smirk in the sound of his voice.

She jumped so violently the book flew out of her hands, sending the pages flying, the hard cover thumping against the door. She placed a hand upon her chest, her form heaving in fear. She swallowed hard, coming to the realization that everything was fine. She licked her lips passively, a hand pushing her red tresses away from her face. She grunted quietly as she moved off the bed, making her way to the door.

She gracefully opened the portal, her fingers wrapped about the doorknob, gently pulling. She smiled lightly, her weight evenly placed on both feet. "I'm sorry, Sir Fleming," she stuttered softly, squatting down to pick up his journal. She turned it over to him, the top corner soggy from her sucking.

She licked her lips again, an odd taste in her mouth. It was like paper and ink, and once she put the taste and the wetness of the journal, she realized she had used the book as a replacement for Andy. She had never blushed so deeply in her life as she brought the book back towards her, wiping the cover off with her shirt. "I promise I didn't read anything," she whispered intently, her brown eyes showing an uncommon emotion: sincerity and worry. "On my honor," she finished, a hand resting over her heart.

"I know how precious a journal can be, I admit I was tempted but I didn't; I passed out without turning a page."

She thrust the journal back at him, both hands gripping the top of the book. She slid into her usual pose, head bowed, ankles crossed as she waited for him to take it from her. She blinked a few times, eying her feet, "My ankle..."

As they docked Johnathan was the first to walk off of the ship as their dock was cleared of people. Johnthan looked back, as Keith had changed quickly and walked off of the ship as well, with the dagger in mouth, putting it in his back pocked, and tapping it lightly, knowing it would come in handy later. He looked around to see alot of people talking, and men walking up the ladders, and transporting goods. Keith got a good look around and said.

"Lets head to the bar..." Johnthan said as he looked back and at the sun. Keith could see that the sun hadn't gone down but it was getting ready to get yellow and turn into a sunset. Keith stood right at the bottom of the ladder as he waited for the others.

"Looks like those two have a strong connection...to bad that leaves you with no one eh?" Johnthan said chuckling as Keith glared back at him and felt like he wanted to slap the piss out of Johnthan. Johnathan backed up a bit, both hands up, as Keith frowned. Johnthan threw him an apple, and said.

"I know your hungry...that should keep you till we get to the bar..Lord knows what type of things they will have, but you will have to get aquainted with their foods one way or annother.." Johnthan said yawning. Keith nooded, he knew that would be the case, and the result? Keith hoped the food would be similar to at home, not hopped, begged.

It was just another night alone. Another night stuck in some god forsaken bar, this time it was the “Cat's eye”, with a bunch of drunken idiots. Being a female, and attractive, their thoughts where on one thing se- SMACK. She twirled around a low snarl rising up from her throat as she stared at one of the drunken idiots whom had been starring at her all night.

“What do you want you fuckin' scum bag?” she hissed, her voice low as she stared at him. She knew her eyes, a dark gold with black flecks, could scare people and, as she turned the hard gaze on him he flinched back but...being drunk...”You, baby wanna come over here with meh and my pals?” His voice was slurred and she raised a brow, coincidently the one with the scare cutting through it. The human male's eyes went to the scar, a look of almost fear crossing his face.

“What?” she hissed through her teeth, stepping forward lightly. Ahh, the first step, crucial in any fight. She could feel the hard wood of the floor beneath the leather of her boot, could hear the sharp intake of breath from the crowd, the sounds of wooden chairs scrapping a crossed the wooden of the floor.

“Dude, do you have a death wish?” she muttered, her head cocking to the side, allowing a few strands of white hair to obscure her vision, or so it seemed. In reality it only helped her calm herself, she didn't want these pathetic excuses for flesh and bones to get in her way, expose her.
He nodded some, a large hand going to grab her right breast through the tank top she wore. He didn't even get to touch before she grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, her leg sliding out to tuck in front of his foot. He tripped over it, although the hand at his wrist pulling him forward may have had something to do with it. She let out a soft laugh at the sound of his bone breaking before she twirled around, eying the large men that had came forward, rushing to their buddies side.

A broad smile crossed William’s face. “Don’t worry about it, I'm not. Besides,” William lied, “It hardly means anything to me, just a way to pass the time.” To emphasis what he just said, William lazily tosses the book into his open bag sitting on the floor.

“What is important is your ankle; does it hurt too much for you to walk on? We have just landed at the port and you need a new pair of shoes.” William said eyeing the almost completely useless things she had laid by the bed. “I know it is very unbecoming of a woman of your status, but you need a pair of boots. We may have to walk many miles, and it will be hard enough on you with that ankle. . .”

She glanced up, eying the man before her in silence. Her breath was caught in her throat... boots? Of all things, boots? She nearly had a panic attack. She offered a heavy sigh, her shoulders heaving with the massive intake. She brought her now free hands to her face, holding them against her cheeks. She bit down softly upon her bottom lip, her brown orbs furrowing as she began to think about the situation.

"It feels fine," she begins, attempting to wipe the emotion from her pale visage. "You're a wonderful doctor, Sir Fleming. If it didn't require you to touch me, my father would be very thankful." It came out odd, and perhaps sounded funny, Sophia was dead serious as she spoke.

"My mother will kill me when she finds out I've put my feet into boots, but what would be even worse is if I wore boots with this outfit."

She ran her fingers down her form, tugging a bit at her black button down shirt, her nails slipping over the completely torn off collar. Her hands trailed down to the hem of her skirt, pulling the blue and black plaid out a bit, looking down at it; the fabric was still damp. She shook her head, bright curls bouncing around her shoulders with the movement.

"I'll need an entirely new outfit."

She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, running a hand over the opposite arm, nails trailing down the skin, tiny white marks appearing on her. She bowed her head, embarrassed as usual. "Mother always pays for everything... I don't have any money on me." She sighed again, a hint of her attempt to hold back tears within the sigh.

"I'm sorry, Sir Fleming. You should go ashore without me. I'll wait here, everything will be fine. Thank you for your kindness, I'll make sure my father, the Colonel, hears about your generosity."

Keith tapped his foot and waved his hand, as he began to walk away from the ship as Johnthan turned to Keith who began to walk off he said.

"Where are yo-" he was cut off by Keith saying.

"They are taking way to long, I'll meet you at the bar.." Keith said, as he pointed to the bar in the distance, and walked at a pace, as he put both of his hands behind his head, and continued to walk, daydreaming abit about their journey. He had no idea what to expect, nor how long it would take to complete their journey, as well as why they were even brought here in the first place. Keith could here a slam as he approached the bar, and heared many foot steps and people shouting "Boss" and other names. Keith could tell things were about to get juvnile when he walked inside of the shabby like bar, but he was prepared for it. Although he was still getting used to his powers, he took off his right glove, and focused, as his hand began to slowly turn metal. He then focused and made it turn back as he put back on his glove.

He pushed open the doors to the club, and walked in as everyone stopped what they were doing and looked his way. Johnthan hadn't warned him of the stares he would get. Keith just stood their a moment, and began to think.

"Oh hell"