I blink rapidly, aware of an odd rocking, swaying motion. 'Where am I? I think groggily, rubbing my forehead and eyes. I sit up and look around. It's a medium-sized, wood paneled room, not as big as mine, but not small either. Exotic knicknacks cover every shelf that doesn't have books or maps on them. A carved, wooden table stands on the other side of the rom, it seems to be used as a desk, for it's covered in maps and books as well, with a quill pen and ink well on one side. The bed is covered in a rich velvet comforter the color of wine and is extremely comfortable and soft to the touch.

I shift and sit with my legs over the edge of the bed. I pull at the bodice and sleeves of my dress straightening them out, wondering why I was in bed wearing a day dress instead of just a slip. I slowly stand up, very aware of the rocking of the room. I've seen a room like this before. It was a picture in a novel i read not too long ago. It's a cabin of some sort. I gasp quietly in realization. A captain's cabin! On a ship! Explains the rocking motion. But why am I on a ship? I sit back down on the edge of the bed. My hand touches another and I whirl around, jumping off the bed once more. 'Katherine! I think with a sigh of relief. At least now I know I'm not alone here... Wherever here is.

Since she's still asleep, I walk over to the table, deciding not to wake her right now. I glance through the maps on the desk, one in particular catches my eyes. It's a detailed drawing of water ways all along the coast of Europe. It looks normal other than the fact that many of the water ways have odd names or no names at all and there are marks all over the page as well. The key in the corner shows that they mark hidden coves, harbors, and small cities - all of which are known as pirate stops.

I stumble backwards away from the table in shock. "Oh my dear God," i whisper to myself, my hands fluttering to grasp at the chain of the locket still hidden beneath the bodice of my dress. My heart starts to race as I move towards one of the windows. I peer out hoping what i see will disprove what I know in my gut is true. Blue is all I see, no land in sight, not even a speck of it on the horizon.

I close my eyes and step back away from the window, turning around. I ignore the rolling, uneasy feeling in my stomach and the bile rising in my throat. I reopen my eyes and look for the door out, the room suddenly feeling quite cramped. There. Seemingly hidden between some bookshelves is the door leading out of the room. I rush over to it, nearly tripping on my skirts in my hurry and tug at the handle. 'Locked! Of course!' I fume and try again. Still nothing. I place my ear against the door. I hear rowdy voices and raucous laughter, but can't make out anything they're saying. I step back from the door some and pound on it with my fists. "Hey! Open this door!" I yell. "As Princess and daughter of King Lewis Benedict the fourth, I demand you open this door now!"

The sudden banging on the door and the muffled shouts startled Tommy. He was just passing by on the way to look for the captain when it started. He banged back on the door as hard as he could.
"Shut up in there!" Not that anyone important could hear the girl on the other side. Even if her shouts could be heard, there were no Royal Navy vessels for miles around. Nevertheless, Tommy did not like this one bit. The whole affair made him uncomfortable. Perhaps that is why he snapped out so rudely. His father would be disappointed to know his son had shouted at a woman.
When the captain first ordered a course set for England, Tommy couldn't contain his excitement. He was getting a rare chance to see the homeland, where his father and aunt grew up. Not very many American-born colonists ever got the opportunity to visit the land of thier fore-fathers. Perhaps that is why he never questioned the captain's orders during the long voyage across the Atlantic. The captain wasn't one for sentimentality. There had to be some underlying reason for his sudden desire to see the homeland. If Tommy had suspected, he'd have questioned the captain and attempted to dissuade him.
As it was, Tommy gladly brought them eastward. When he sighted land, he hugged the coastline, per the captain's orders, passing through the Channel, sighting the White Cliffs of Dover, and rounding the Thames Estuary along England's eastern coast. However, when they came to a small village, labeled Windsor-on-the-sea, the captain's nefarious intentions were finally revealed. He ordered the guns brought out and opened fire on the English coast. Not counting William of Normandy's landing at Hastings, this was the first time a hostile seaborne force had attacked England since the Vikings. Perhaps even this wouldn't have bothered Tommy if it weren't for the fact this town hosted a seaside retreat for the Royal Family. And if they hadn't brought back a pair of guests too. In his mind's eye, Tommy could see the King riding back to London as fast as his horse could carry him, the fleet at Portsmouth putting out to sea, and courier ships setting out for India, America, and the Caribbean bearing news of the attack and a description of the vessel responsible. As if the attack wasn't brazen enough, did the captain really have to hoist his private standard? Now they were the most wanted ship on the oceans. Visions of gallows made Tommy sick. Hearing one of the prisoners crying out for help only made that feeling increase.

Demi sighed, he had settled himself in the crows nest as soon as the princess's had been brought aboard. He had been told to stay away from them, apparently he wasn't allowed to fool around with royalty, only peasants. Then again he had heard that the peasants do it best anyway. He could feel the gentle rock of the ship, a soothing motion that he loved far to much to be healthy. It lulled him into wanting to sleep but he knew that he could not, everyone was supposed to be staying alert for attacking ships. What with the princesses they happened to have. It was a waste really, two beautiful girls like that. His eyes scanned the deck, picking out the crew, the men he had sailed with for years now. Some he had been with since he had been born.

He remained where he was for a few more minutes, watching the cloudless sky. He was growing bored rather quickly now, he needed to create some excitement. Demi peered down to the deck again where he saw Tommy pause by the Princess's cabin. He glanced about, finding his father no where to be seen. He smiled and climbed down quickly, landing in a cat like crouch. He straightened up then and made his way towards the cabin. He saluted Tommy, as the captain's son he decided he was allowed to talk to the girls. He heard one of them knocking and yelling, so he knocked back.

"And where exactly do you plan on going when you get out of there Darling?" he cooed through the door. Smirking a little.

"My name is Claire - issa." I add on the issa part quicky, refusing to let these pirates know either of my nicknames. "Princess Clarissa. Not Darling. And as soon as I get let out of here I'm going to have a word with the captain of this ship and have him take my sister and I back home! So let me out!" I pound on the door again for good measure, starting to get really mad.

I take in a deep breath, letting my eyes close for a second or two then say in a condescending tone, "Maybe if you men take us back now you'll be given a day or two head start before the Armada comes after you. Or maybe if you let me out now and let me talk to the captain and take us home now, then maybe you can all escape the gallows and just rot in prison. Either is fine with me you filthy scags." I pause thinking of a way to possibly insult the guy's pride and ego. I step back away from the door some and say in a kind of sing-song voice.

"Then again... The reason you're not letting me out could always be because you're scared that I might actually be able to put up a good fight or even try to jump over the edge of the boat and swim. Or!" I add with a fake gasp of happy realization. "You could just be afraid that I'll be able to make every person on the crew swoon and do my every bidding just like every man back home. All I'd have to do is tell them I'm not wearing a corset or stockings - both dreadful pieces of today's fashion - and then show a little skin! Doesn't seem like it would be too hard of a thing to do, especially considering how pirates are!" I spit out the word pirates in obvious disgust, shooting a scathing look towards the door and whomever may be standing on the other side of it.

Tommy shot Demetri a scowl. "That will be enough, Demi," he snorted. "Shouldn't you be looking out for the Royal Navy? I thought that's what you were doing. In any case, I was meaning to speak with the captain. If you don't have anything better to do, could you go fetch him?" Paying no more attention to the boy, Tommy refocused his attention on the prisoners. The one shouting threats was starting to annoy him. However he didn't want to shout back again. He didn't like that he'd done so at all. He decided to be civil about this. He unlocked the door, slipped inside, then closed the door and locked it behind him. He placed the key in a secure pocket. He knew from his mother's stories that bold, determined women, especially nobles, were not to be trusted. For all he knew, one or both of these girls could wrestle the key away from him and escape.
"My apologies for my earlier outburst, Ms," Tommy began. "I'm a bit jumpy at the moment. Normally, I'm much more polite to women. Live with several at home. As for my uncouth companion, I'll personally see to it he doesn't harass you again. I'm Thomas Taylor, the first officer aboard this ship."

Demi smirked, she sounded fun. He was just reaching for the door when Tommy slipped in front of him, acting with an annoying heir of authority. He was looking out for the royal navy, just not in the crows nest. He watched as Tommy slipped inside the cabin and wished he'd been able to get in there and talk to them first. They thought all pirates were the same huh? Well honestly he wasn't, he got enough to not swoon as a flash of skin. He slipped his hands into his pockets, watching the door, maybe Tommy would be overpowered by the girls. Demi smirked to himself, he could actually see that happening. He turned and made his way slowly across the deck to the captains quarters, he'd do what Tommy asked, simply because he really had nothing better to do, besides maybe when he got back the girls would have already taken him out.

Demi rapped on the door, "Cap'n" he called through the door, "Our girl wants to talk to you," he paused, "And so do the princess's."

The sun had finished cracking the horizon by the time that Scout had finished up in the kitchen. It wasn't a hard task, feeding a bunch of hungry pirates, because most of them would eat anything. The food on board was never great, but after raids there were always decent meals following. This morning was like any other; she had awoken at the sound of shuffling and fled from bed, creeping into the boat's kitchen and beginning to get everything ready. It wasn't a hard task, even for the young girl, as all she really did was cut the bread slices and push out the barrels of grog for the men to drink.

By now she was finished, her scrawny body leaning over the edge of the top deck as she stared down at the blue water. A cool breeze swept her messy blonde hair off of her shoulders, keeping her feeling content. It was a beautiful day, so different than the night before. There had been bloodshed- a lot of it, but still the pirates had managed to complete their task. Scout smiled- they always did win. She wondered why the English even thought that they had a chance against them. Sure, they were a bit more organized, and maybe they considered themselves civilized, but pirates had power. They were feared, and that was what the young girl liked about her lifestyle.

She shifted from her place against the rail at the sound of voices, and this time they were not the rowdy voices of the crew. They were quiet murmurs of females, and Scout couldn’t help but to flash a mischievous grin as she crept away from the water and towards the stairs, moving towards the sound. She stepped aside, allowing Demi to pass her in the direction of the captain’s quarters, and paused for a moment, watching the first officer step inside the room where the voices were coming from. Scout was interested, but knew better than to ask to come in. She was just a child, a female child, and wasn’t the most favored crew member on the ship. She did what she was asked to do to reserve her space on board, but didn’t need to be assigned any extra work by Tommy, and she knew that bothering him would lead him to do exactly that. So, she moved towards the door, pressing her ear against it as she listened to the voices.

Nick’s hand massaged his temples as he stared down at one of his large maps. He drew a small “X” on the map, deciding that was where they needed to end up by the end of the day. They were still too close to the coast of England, and by now there were definitely more than just England’s navy searching for them. The thought made Nick smile, and a small chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled his green eyes off of the parchment, before he rolled it back up and tucked it into the pocket of his coat.

He leaned back in the chair, noting that it was not nearly as comfortable as the one in his own cabin, but his cabin was currently being occupied. A smirk fell into place as he imagined the two girls that he had captured the previous nights. The princesses of England were on his boat. They were his prisoners- what an accomplishment. He was standing, slipping his large black hat onto his head when he heard knocking at the door followed by the voice of his son, Demi.

After straightening his jacket, Nick pulled the door open and took a step out before locking it behind him. He thought over what the boy had said; something about the princesses and “our girl” wanting to speak with him. He knew that Demi was referring to Tommy, but didn’t comment on the name and instead gave his son a quick nod.

“I need to speak with our sailing master first. You an’ Tommy bring ‘em up here and get Scout to fix ‘em a meal. Our royal guests need to get a look o’ their new home, and I need to Tommy once I finish up with John, so if you see him, let him know that I need to speak with him as well.” Nick took in a deep breath before moving past his son and onto the main deck.

I step back some, slightly shocked at him suddenly entering the room. I quickly regain my composure and look him up and down asessing him. "Princess Clarissa Benedict, as I'm sure you heard," I say, turning on my heel and wlaking back over to the desk. I fiddle with the edges of the map and look back at the pirate. "Normally I'd say I'm pleased to make your aquaintance, but considering the way we have met and the occupancy you hold, I have to admit quite the opposite. But please good sir, might I speak with the captain? I just want to go home. Prison it may be, but at least I will be in the company of more respectable, upstanding people whom I will not have to cross my legs and squeeze them tightly against each other while around them or sleep with one eye half open at night. I'm sure you understand." I smile patronizingly at the first officer and turn to face him, but continue to play with the edges of the map.

"I noticed a couple maps with the Carribbean on them. Is that where you are taking us? The Americas? Sounds like a fun journey," I say the last bit sarcastically then cross my arms in front of my chest. "During our journey, if you pirates refuse to take my sister and I home, am I to be stuck in here the entire time? Or will I be allowed to traverse the deck?" I scoff, turning my back on the man. "It's pitiful how we are taking orders from you men. Pirates nonetheless. Lowest of all people. Right down there with theifs, rapists, and murderers. But then again, I wonder why. It's not like pirates are any of those things." I roll my eyes, still not looking at the first mate or acknowledging him by his name.

"I'm afraid there's been a terrible misunderstanding, as far as you're concerned, Ms." Tommy continued. "Normally, we like to limit our targets to the daughters of some half-penny colonial governor or viceroy. Nothing as rich as a royal princess. I don't know what our captain was thinking, playing some sort of modern day Viking or Saxon. Anyway, unless the captain orders it, you are not going to the Carribbean. Assuming we can outrun ships bearing news of your abduction, I'm setting a course for Boston. There, you'll be set loose. I'm sure once you introduce yourselves to the local governor, he'll be more than happy to put you on the first ship to England. Though if I were captain, I assure you, I would want you on my ship for as little time as possible. If I could, I'd set you off somewhere in Scotland or Ireland, where news of your capture hasn't reached yet. But that's up to the captain to decide. I still need to talk to him." Tommy walked over to the desk and angled himself in such a way that if the princess tried to reach for the key or the pistols, she'd have to reach for them in a rather awkward and sexually suggestive manner.
"It's up to the captain to decide if you'll be allowed on deck. Currently, the answer is no. We're still too close to the coast. Maybe while we're in mid-ocean, but like I said: it's the captain's preference." He paused, fishing for a map of the North Atlantic.
"Though for your information, I was raised by both of my parents. Good, honest people they are. They were pirates when they were younger. My mother even captained a ship and made a name for herself in her own right. Her father and grandfather were pirates too, damn good ones who were bringing some semblance of order to the buccaneers and rouge privateers terrorizing the Carribbean long before your predecessors, the Stuarts, got interested in it. My father got into the business when he was about your age, or younger. So I would appreciate it if you saved your critiques about my profession and my heritage for men who really are thieves, rapists, and murderers. There are plenty of them aboard this vessel."

I step away from him and look towards the door. "So if you're not like them... Then why are you with them?" I ask, truely curious. I fidget some with the ends of my sleeves, regretting not wearing stockings and starting to get a little nervous being so close to a guy, of any kind, inside a locked room. I concentrate some to make sure I don't look at... Thomas... and keep my face neutral of any kind of emotion other than maybe anger. "And when will I get to talk to your captain? It's starting to get stuffy in here."

"I am a young man who, as a boy, used to listen to my mother's stories of sea battles, swashbuckling adventures, and voyages to uncharted lands," Tommy shrugged, finding what he was looking for. "I figured I'd have my own adventures." 'Though I never counted on having my own death sentence, much less talking to her,' he added mentally. "Now the captain speaks to you when he feels like it. I know it may seem rude of him, but he is a busy man. However, I will try to speak to him on your behalf." Tommy turned to go.

Ash didn't like it. Not one bit. Having two English princesses aboard the ship made his stomach turn. He could just imagine the demands they'd make once they were awake. Trying to order them to take them back, or do anything else that they wanted. Just like British royalty they'd act like they owned all the world. And why not? The British had already colonized the Americas, the Caribbean, and were pushing into Asia. Of course the fact that they had taken control of Ireland was what he really hated. His personal thoughts on the matter: Kill them both. Either that or ransom them.

The Scotsman placed his hands on the short barrier separating the deck from the ocean. He sighed and gazed out over the expanse of endless blue. The sounds of the sea; the soothing crashes of the water. The cool spray of the water as it crashed against the side of the ship, rising into the air as a fine mist before dissipating. The air was filled with the scent of the ocean. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had come up to the deck once the rest of the crew - er, Tommy and Demi, at least - began to focus on the princesses. He knew that at least one was awake now, and he would await the captain's decision on their freedoms and restrictions aboard the ship. If they were ever allowed on deck, he would confine himself below deck. He didn't want anything to do with the two English brats.

He was surprised that the King had yet to dispatch the entirety of the British Armada. After all, the largest and most powerful naval force in the world would be more than a match for a single buccaneer vessel. Which was why he'd been careful when he was still a captain to move around British naval patrols. He'd had his moment as captain of the most wanted pirate ship in the ocean. But now he was a crewman on the most wanted ship. He smirked, laughing internally, He's probably too lazy to get up off his fat ass or stop eating long enough to give the order, he thought. If it came down to it, he still had some connections in Ireland. They could seek shelter there, if the captain would allow it.

The Scotsman grunted and righted himself. Smoothing out his vest and shirt, he turned and headed for the stairs leading below deck. He needed a drink.

Ink met paper with a fleeting sashay, departing as rudely as a gentleman in mid-bow when the voices sounded from nearby. His tidy quarters rocked gently to the song of sea, a jaunty tune laced with a siren’s call and a drunken wail. Reagan considered himself a man of high tolerance; his haphazard strokes, however, said otherwise, as he crossed out line after line on the little schedule, now rendered useless. Spontaneity—how he loathed it. Yet here they all were, sailing up to their britches in negligent plans, a decision that had dented a permanent frown in his brow, which, given his nature, would make it further impossible to take him seriously. At the very least, he had supervised Scout in her cooking duties, perched and parroting beside her, but even she was capable of performing efficiently without his needless squabble. And the others? They were adults—well, in theory. They had no time for strict agendas.

It had gone well enough, he had to admit, although their chosen methods left a sour note to their crescendo. A dearth of logic, that’s what it was. The affair instilled a sense of dread within him, but it was his loyalty that kept him sanguine, his actions well-meant and his thoughts clear. Settling the quill pen back into the well, curiosity briefly took hold of him; the vocal racket outside his door brought him to attention, to recalling the state of chaos that plagued the night before. In the midst of things, he caught mere glimpses of their invited guests, having heard them more than he had seen them before they were silenced. Oh, the joys of mass hysteria.

He stood from his desk with a huff, combing slim fingers through his ginger hair. Stirred from his endeavors, he left the journal and flintlock pistol unattended, creeping out of his room with careful steps. The Phantom would need the first of her mandatory inspection for the day, but he found reason to be sidetracked in moment’s time; Demitri and Thomas had departed from the scene; Scout, in all her glory, had her nose—and ears—at the ladies’ door. Knowing Ashielf, the Scotsman would care little about the young women, which would lessen conflict somewhat. Nevertheless, it was the smallest crewmate that kept the smile from Reagan’s face, but not from his eyes. He crouched beside her, grabbing her ear with a short, sharp yank.

“I’m assuming you’ve left the kitchen in one piece, Ms. Scouter?” he hissed to her in a whisper, his tone as stern as he could manage. He failed instantly. “I thought I told you to start wearing those dresses I picked out. And hasn’t Thomas made sure to keep you occupied? Lord knows I bloody will if he doesn’t.” Like a responsible older member, he was keen on the muffled exchange that she had stopped to listen for. Such a fine way to set an example.

"Thank you," I say as he walks towards the door. "Oh and that whole thing about being harrassed." I pause to make sure he's listening to me before I continue. "I don't care who tries to touch me, bother me, whatever, but if any of you men even attempts to touch my sister or annoy her in any way, I will beat him into unconciousness." I shrug at his kind of questioning/surprised face. "Training and racing horses toughens you up. You gotta learn to stand your own and not back down from any kind of fight. I get that from my mother. We're both very independent women. Some say that's how she died. Probably was, I don't know, I don't remember." I face one of the book shelves, looking at the titles printed on the sides of them, pulling my hair around my shoulder, running my hand through my curls some. If Thomas is looking at me now he'd see the crescent shaped scar near the base of my neck, right above the back of my dress, but I don't think about it. I don't turn back around though until I hear the click of the door shutting and locking once more.

(OOC: Updated character history and description)

Tommy had to smirk a bit as he left the room. The thought of a princess beating someone (most likely Demetri) into a bloody pulp was a bit comical. But he didn't put it past her. She was, after all, a "very strong, independent" woman. In his mother's stories, women like that were always outsmarting the men. His own mother once knew a woman like that - a French noblewoman named "Madam Blanche" who ran away from home after her Huguenot parents tried to force her to convert to Catholicism and marry the son of a wealthy Catholic family. Madam Blanche had been taken prisoner by Tommy's grandfather and very nearly escaped. They cornered her in the ballast compartments. She'd very nearly knifed Tommy's uncle too. 'I'll bet I'd have a tale of a brave noblewoman to tell if Princess Clarissa gets out,' thought Tommy. He briefly noted a scratch on the princess' neck before he closed the door and locked it again. 'That's odd. Wonder how she got that. Beating up a naughty servant boy?' Tommy glanced around the deck, resuming his search for the captain.

Demi nodded to his father, he'd do what he asked, nothing too demanding really, was it? He made his way bac towards the princess's cabin where Tommy was just emerging he looked a little happy with himself. Demi smirked as he approached, "Alright ol' girl?" he asked the boy as he clapped him on the back. "I found the cap'n as you asked, funny thing this, he wants us to take them to his cabin and fix them a meal." he shrugged his broad shoulders, flashing Tommy a smile. It was then that his eyes fell on Scout, the young girl was being almost told off by Reagan.

"Come now Reagan, let the girl alone will you?" his eyes crinkled a little as he suppressed laughter, she did not look too impressed. "Everyone has a right to be curious, s'long as you aren't a cat." he reached out and ruffled Scout's hair. "By the way the Cap'n wants you to prepare a decent meal for the princess's, treating them like royalty we are." he sighed, "I'll come and help in a bit, if you like?" he'd always had a soft spot for Scout. He sighed a little as he slipped passed her and went to the door of the cabin, "Come then Tom, we best get these kids to the Cap'n."

Demi knocked on the door "You decent in there, ladies?" he asked, trying to sound a little polite, it was his turn to unlock the door and peek inside wearing his best smile the young lad held out a hand. "Demetri, at your service." well sort of at their service. He'd escort them to his father and get a meal cooked for them, it was as far as his services were allowed to go really. "No funny business and I'll get you girls a decent meal." he promised.

Tommy groaned. He'd given up long ago trying to get Demetri to respect him. No amount of threats or punishment seemed to work. Just as long as the kid obeyed him, that was all that mattered. He barely noticed Reagan or Scout. He usually ignored the boatswain anyway. There was something a bit off about him. Tommy didn't mind Scout too much. She made him imagine what his mother may have been like as a girl. Just so long as Scout did her chores and didn't get in the way, he didn't mind what she did.
Tommy carefully monitored Demetri as he opened the door to the princesses' room. As first officer, Tommy did have some authority, but if an order came from the captain, he had to obey it. Yet he didn't trust any order relayed through Demetri. For all he knew, the boy was making up an excuse just to get at the princesses.

"Looks like they're already attractin' too much attention." Ash muttered to himself, his voice laden with a thick Scottish accent. He'd paused by the stairs and looking at the captain's quarters, where the girls were being held. Everyone seemed to gravitate toward the room. He made a disgusted noise and continued on his way below deck. Whatever it was, it wasn't his concern. Unless someone had to be ordered to shoot them. The thought almost made him smile, knowing that he might actually go so far as to raise to his hand. Like most Scottish he'd been overwhelmed with anger when the Treaty of Union had been signed. It was mostly due in part to the failure of the "Darien scheme". Scotland's failed attempt at creating an overseas empire like Britain. Unfortunately, it had successfully sealed his home's place as one of the weaker powers in Europe. He, of course, found it ironic that the once extremely powerful Spanish Empire - which had actually played a hand in the scheme's failure - was now falling to pieces, with the greater powers of Europe bearing down on it.

He entered the galley and stopped short. He'd always found it annoying when crewmen would fall asleep - usually and notably drunk - on the tables. The sound of the ship's hull creaking as it it rose and fell in the water was very loud here, and the ship's movements much more noticeable. It was an eerily hollow noise, the deep, spaced sound growing and shrinking as the ship moved through the waves. Undeterred by the dipping and rising of the vessel he walked to one of the tables and picked up a bottle. Empty, he thought, placing it back on the table next to the sleeping crewman and moving on. Bloody heathens, he snapped in his own mind as he picked up a second empty bottle. He considered smashing it over the fool's head but set the bottle down and picked up another on the same table. To his satisfaction this one was not yet empty. Morgan sat down and raised the bottle into the air in a toast to the sea before bringing it to his lips.

I flip my hair back behind my shoulder as I turn, hiding the scar once more. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not hungry. Don't think I will be for a while. Yet I suppose being in the company of many pirates on deck would be beter than being cramped in here." I put the book I was holding back where I got it from then walk to the door. I eye the guy's offered hand and clasp mine together behind my back against my lower back. "At least you didn't call me darling again." I step passed him and out the door, slipping past the other pirates as well. I turn back and face them,planting my hands on my hips. "So? Where's the captain? I'd like to go home"

(double post - sorry)

Demi raised a brow, this girl was a typical princess, pretty, snobby, frigid. She wasn't his type at all, too much of a challenge and he liked them loose. He didn't like her attitude, snobs just weren't welcome even if they were guests. "At least you didn't call me darling again." oh he could see her head tilting up, her nose going in the air. He wondered what she'd do with her life if she had no money and could only make a living on a ship. Oh he could call her worse than darling. He flashed a pleasant smile as she carried on talking. She thought she was going home sharpish did she? He moved to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, "How could you want to leave?" he asked pleasantly, "The tide is high, the wind is endless, We could have an adventure." he shrugged his shoulders. "You could be free out here,"

"Demetri!" warned Tommy. He couldn't help but tense up at the crewman's actions. "Hands off. Save your charms for the harbor wenches. You know the captain's orders." If this were his father's ship, Tommy thought, Demetri wouldn't dare lay a hand on those princesses. He'd have more than the skin of his back to loose - possibly the very things that made him a man, if he kept up his behavior. Then again, Tommy wondered if becoming a eunuch would cure the boy of his urges.

Even with an ear pressed to the door, Scout couldn't hear much more than the muffles of angry whispers being exchanged by the princesses. She had zoned out, keeping all of her focus on what they were saying. She hadn't seen them the previous night- not being allowed to help out with the operations of the abduction and simply told to leave the boat for only a little while. Even as a pirate, it was easy for the child to blend in. She had crept along the shadows of the village, watching as the rest of the crew members set houses and stores to flames, causing a chaotic mess to arise. When she spotted the opportunity, she would dart into a stable shop and steal a piece of candy or grab a dropped coin, but that was all that she got out of the raids. She had boarded the ship earlier than the other members out of fear of being left behind, and hadn't seen the two females being shuffled on with all of the disorder. That hadn't left her without curiosity about the girls though. Scout wanted to see them, wanted to meet them. She wanted to see if they were really as beautiful, smart and elegant as they were portrayed.

A small yelp was released as she felt a sharp sting to her ear, instantly reaching up to grab it as she turned, facing Reagan. "Yes sir; kitchen's alright," she replied quickly, before dropping her arm to her side and taking a step away from the door. "Pirates don't wear dresses," she stressed, not able to suppress a small smile before giving the cabin door another quick glance, "an' I am occupied. I'm waiting for the princesses to come out so I can-" she stopped speaking as Demetri appeared, and she let him speak, only watching as he opened the door to the princesses' cabin and one of them emerged.

Scout could feel her eyes widening as the striking female appeared, saying that she did not want food but wanted to speak with the captain. She studied the girl; her long blonde hair, blue eyes, decorative clothing. She looked like a… a princess.

The young girl pulled her eyes away after realizing she had been staring. The rudeness of it didn’t really bother her because Scout wasn’t much of a young lady anyhow, but she didn’t want to seem weird. This was a princess, a real princess, and as much as Scout wanted to be a pirate, she had to admit that a princess was just as cool as a pirate.

“I make good meals,” she offered, remembering the captain’s orders and also the way the princess had denied the meal. Scout knew that it probably wasn’t smart to deny any food when you were on board a pirate ship filled with men who received rations smaller than their likings. You were normally lucky to get a meal, and as a prisoner, they were rarely ever fed. Then again, this was a prinecss.

I face the younger pirate girl, a small but warm smile touched with the smallest hint of sadness on my face. "I bet you do, but I'm honestly not hungry. Thank you though," I say to her. I close my eyes briefly and sigh, turning to face Demetri. "Forgive me for acting like a total snob, brat, whatever - they're all the same things - but I'm not too happy right now. I'm sure it's not too hard to guess why." I shrug under his hand and turn, looking out at the horizon. 'Maybe I should give this all a chance. As long as the men keep their distance I'm sure this couldn't be too bad. It might actually be... fun, I think sincerely.

I nod mentally. 'I'll give it a try. But not one of these guys are laying a hand on me.' Then I remember Demetri's hand on one of my shoulders. My eyes flicker to it. 'Dammit... Last and only time,' I think kind of sourly as I turn once more to face the pirates. "Now may I please speak with the captain? If we're not being taken back home I'd at least like to know what your captain has in mind," I ask, making sure not a bit of sarcasm or anger reach my voice.