Post by PD on May 2, 2011 22:13:42 GMT -5
RP Info:
Private or Open?: Private.
Fast, Casual or Slow?: Casual.
Rating: PG-13.
Involved: Lothy and PD.
Characters: Emiliana Treusdell and Hunter Costello
Summary: The Dionysus as well as Singapore
The night was still hanging low in the sky; the moon stalling its decent, unwilling to let the sun rise. It was just that time of night when one became unsure whether day would come again or if night would simply linger on into eternity. For Emiliana, however, darkness was a friend; darkness was when her mind worked best. But now, instead of being out working in it and relishing in this new environment, she sat aboard the Dionysus absentmindedly listening to Hunter Costello and several of the other officers discuss tactics and other tedious matters while she dully squeaked her chair back and forth. She was unused to working with others like this - she planned by herself and she killed by herself. That was what he had hired her for after all, was it not?
Her eyes, glazed over with boredom, turned to Hunter and she allowed them to rest on his form for a moment before shifting them away, taking in the cabin around her. From where she sat in her polished and finely carved wooden chair she could see men walking back and forth, some eyeing her uneasily, obviously disturbed by her unusual manner, tattoos and hair. She scowled at them in return, which urged them to hurry on with their business. There were also many men who whispered in hushed tones or consulted Hunter on different questions about where to place men and what to do now that they had arrived and were officially taking over. Everything routine and typical, in other words, and it bored her. Crossing her legs in a most unladylike fashion she attempted to smooth down the folds in her ivory blue gown, fidgeting with them as she hummed a Spanish melody to herself. She was unused to such finery and the stays were almost killing her. Feeling restricted in many ways, she almost felt like one of those trapped, gorgeous birds that were forced into cages by a ladies of nobility simply to be played with and used when fancied but at any other times just looking pretty and waiting. Her heart ached for her old rags. Even though they were worn, dark and somewhat shabby they were what she was used to. And they were practical for the job. This? This was hardly practical. At least not for her line of work it was not. No, actually this was not practical for anything.
Emili let out a long sigh, slouching back in her chair, wincing as the corset dug into her ribs and forced her to sit upright again.
How had she come to this point in time anyway, she pondered. Why had she accepted his offer? She worried her lower lip slightly as she mused over her circumstances. She wasn’t one for denying a job, especially a well-paying one that could advance her career but… but with him? Her eyes landed squarely on him again. He was the one tarnish in her record. The one man she had been supposed to kill but… hadn’t - the only survivor. It haunted her and yet at the same time attracted her. And, deep down, in some ways she desired the old life she had once led. She desired to taste yet again the finer things. That was why she had accepted this job, she concluded.
Her ears perked up slightly as she heard mention of Sao Feng, a Pirate Lord. Slowly getting up, she moved over to them as quickly as possible, fighting to control her pent-up energy. Her skirts swished around her legs, causing her to wince at the noise. Stealth and silence were always top on her mind and while wearing these things she had neither. At that very moment she seriously contemplated ripping the gown off and throwing it on the floor, stamping on it and damning it to hell but she resisted… just barely.
“Captain Sao Feng?” her light, accented voice broke through the men, causing them to stop and turn to face her. “Is this who we’re killing then?” she tilted her head to the side, a small smile creeping over her face as she finally heard something that not only intrigued her but challenged her... and took her mind off the bothersome gown.