May the Father of Understanding Guide Us (Open)

(Also, to void -
)

(Haha, I know. But a good liar is normally the last to die. Why must you torment me with Harry Potter?)

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

A smile seemed to find its way onto the faces of both Elizabeth and Morgana. The Scottish and the Irish were not so different after all. With Elizabeth being of Irish heritage, and Morgana a proper Irishwoman, they both found the Scots' words rather amusing. Elizabeth took this as an opportunity to grab Morgana by the hair, and threw her towards the wall. Devin went flying through the air like a bullet, before he landed smack against the wall, and lay there dazed and confused.
"While I do find this fight rather refreshing, I really think we should haul arse and get out of here" Elizabeth said calmly as she hit Morgana over the head. "And then I can explain what that bitch said."

Pulling himself out from the water, Stephen took some deep breaths or air and swore to avoid doing some so stupid again. Looking at the recently made shipwreck on confirmed this train of thought.

Guards, around eight of them, rushed out of the facility, surprised by the "Assassin" and the shipwreck. They pulled their blades out and slowly advanced onto Stephen. He cursed under his breath before activating his Pivot blades and moved into a defensive position, tired from the swim.

((OOC: The British guards were actually some distance away, while the Commodore was in the very same room as everyone else. But, alas, it seems to be too late of news.))

Stodd raised his gun up, aiming it at the fighting Assassin, waiting. He knew a blunderbuss wasn't something for distance, so once this bastard got closer, he'd make sure to blow the body of the fighter all over the room. He just needed to bide his time, for now.

Damian was getting much closer now, but definetlt more tired - he seemed exhausted with each swing, and barley felt as if slicing heads was tiring. Jonathon noticed this, and decided that way was best. He quicky sheated his daggers in his back, spun, drew his pistols, shot two, put them away, then drew his crossbow and a dagger, shooting one British man, while stabbing another. He quickly holsterd the crossbow, and kept slicing and cutting. Damian, however, drew his dual pistols, and shot too guards as well. Not feeling the energy to reload, he put them away, and picked up a fallen Soldier's pistol, same to another, and shot twice more. He threw them down, and picked up two swords. They seemed small on him, but he repeated what Jonathon did. It consumed less energy, and allowed Damian to start recovering, very slowly.

(Okay, Random quick confused quip, what do girls on periods do on their periods in hogwarts. They're still normal people, so do they ask their headgirl or something, or their Team proffesor? Cause I just can't imagine Slytherin girls asking Snape for tampons.)

(They would ask their head-girl. But no woman is ever unprepared. Hufflepuffs would be a different story.)

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

"Mary's lesson doesn't seem too barmy now, does it?" Read had told Elizabeth of her attempt to train Damian one day back at Inagua. "Now, Commodore, I believe it's time that I taught you a lesson" Elizabeth growled as she a boarding axe from two fallen brutes. "I came here to have a civilised conversation with the Templars, but after you two had a good laugh at Thatch's expense, you screwed up everything!" Elizabeth took up an attack stance, the axes held firmly in each hand. "Consider this payback for the bloody Spanish tickler" Elizabeth growled as she swung an axe at the Commodore while she swept one of her legs between his; her intention was to hook her leg around the Commodore's, and send him to the floor.

Stodd had been doing all he could to maintain his composure. He'd kept a close eye on the brutish figure charging through the soldiers, and he'd kept an eye on Shay as long as he could, watching to see if she went for him or Morgana. In the end, she made the poor choice. While the towering figure draw the attention of the guards, she came for the Scotsman, and Stodd was quick to move.

He faced Shay, and held his gun out, firing at her stomach; if she didn't end up a corpse, whatever baby she had, true or a ruse, sure as Hell would be.

He wasn't lucky enough to see what happened, as he was suddenly slammed into the ground. He tossed the gun behind him as he rolled away and took a low fighting stance, his eyes now on the larger figure; the remaining soldiers were either wounded or dead at this point. It was just the three of them now, and Morgana and the other bastard.

Stodd looked to Morgana, to see if he'd managed to, at the absolute least, disable her for the moment.

(I suggest listening to "All empty inside,  "I ain't leaving you", "I'll be with you Kenway", "Time to make ammends", or "We'll meet again" while reading this.
*Lie down*
*Try not to cry*
*Cry a lot*)

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

Elizabeth moved a hand to her stomach before bringing it to her face, she went white as she looked at her bloodstained hand.
"Well would you look at that" Elizabeth chuckled weakly as she fell to the floor. "You might have won this battle, Commodore, but you will never win the war. There will always be others, and they will keep going after you." Elizabeth lay there on the filthy floor, and watched as the Butchers continued their battle. She clutched her pendant, and tears streamed down her face as she thought of her husband. "I'm sorry, my serpent. Know that I will always be with you" Elizabeth whispered as she looked at her wedding ring as she clutched the Assassin pendant. "Beware the Beast, Commodore. Know that Snakefang will kill you for this." Elizabeth could feel herself slipping away, but she wasn't ready to die, not yet.

Morgana O'Reilly

"Jaysus Christ! What the hell did you do, Commodore?! We were supposed to keep her alive" Morgana roared as she finally recovered from Elizabeth's attack, and ran to Elizabeth's side. She pressed her hands to the wound in Elizabeth's stomach, hoping to stop the bleeding.
"Come on, Elizabeth. We've been going at this for years, you can't get out of this game so easily."
"Aye, Morgana. It was fun while it lasted" Elizabeth coughed. "I'll save you a drink." Morgana seemed to watch with tears in her eyes as Elizabeth lay there in her arms. A smile crept onto Elizabeth's face, "At least I went out like old Thatch, in a blaze of glory" Elizabeth whispered as she faded away.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth!" Something seemed to change inside Morgana as she cradled Elizabeth's head in her arms. "Rest well, Elizabeth. Your fight has ended." Morgana rose to her feet and turned to face the Commodore, her claymore grasped firmly in her hands, and a murderous look on her face. "You two get out of here, and take her home. I'll see to it that nobody gets in your way" Morgana said coldly, her words directed to the Butchers. "As for this bastard, I'll see to it that he never sees the light of day. I may be a Templar, but I am a pirate and a woman too. By God, I'll end your sorry life today!" Morgana raised her claymore, and approached the Commodore; her intention, to kill him.

Damian and Jonathon both, upon hearing Morgana, turned to see what she was talking about.

Oh, how they wished they didn't see it ever happen.

"No.... No, no, no..." He kept saying no, at least, until he picked up her body, hand under her head, arm under her legs. He looked up at Jonathon, who the soliders were mssing, afrer they both threw done smoke bombs. "It... It can't be true... It can't..." This was returned, instead, with Damian yelling. "She was supposed to outlive us! We were much older than her - I'm Thirty one, and your thirty six! She was in her twenties..." Damian was a man who rarley cried. The two times he cried were when his parents died, and then a Templar who he was close to in Scotland. He had added the third time he cried. "Kill. The British. Bastards. Save the Commodore for her... she deserves it." As Jonathon cleared the way for Damian, Damian kept looking down at Elizabeth, then in front of him. They were heading to another door, one where there were already British defending it. Jonathon fought as if if he didn't, the world would end right then and there.

(Also, thought that I should say this - I wasn't buying roses, or teddy bears, or cards.
I was buying Vodka, Whiskey, Bud-Light, all the good stuff.
Don't worry, I lock my self in before I drink alot.
I get too drunk to turn the, as my friend said that I described it as, "The Devil's golden cock.")

(P.S. My actual response is on page 14)

(Haha, my kind of shopping. Well, besides fabric and games. Anyway, happy "I hate you all" and "go die before I kill you" day from me and my beloved, Rum. (I even considered going to the mall, and pelting all the couples with waterballoons, stink bombs, or dog s---t.))

Morgana O'Reilly

"I'll cut you a new c--t , Commodore! Christ!" Morgana's attacks were fast and furious. Elizabeth and Morgana were friends, once. They even stole a schooner together. Now that Shay was almost gone, she wasn't about to let the Commodore off the hook so easily. But now that she had betrayed the Order, she had no choice but to run. "You had better hope that she survives this, Commodore, otherwise instep borers, thumbscrews, and a Spanish tickler will be the last of your problems!" Morgana drew the Spanish tickler across the Commodore's face before Devin raced onto her shoulder. "So your enemies will know you more easily" Morgana snarled as she threw the Spanish tickler aside, and chased after the Butchers.

"Elizabeth! Lizzie" Morgana cried as she caught up with the Assassins. "You can still be a legend if you live! You don't need to die! Christ! You're already a legend!"

((OOC: Despite time zones screwing with my ability to post a bit, this is turning out to be more than just fun; this is by far one of the more interesting RPs I've been involved in.))

Stodd had nothing to do but parry. He couldn't counter the swings of a madwoman with a longsword, certainly not with a sabre. He tried to outstep her, moving aside when the chance came so as to not be backed into a wall. Half the trouble was dodging the corpses around him, and not slipping on all the blood - especially the lone puddle of the wounded Shay.

The Commodore bade his time, simply blocking and trying to avoid being wounded. Eventually Morgana got the better of him, and left him a permanent mark, cutting his face deep and with gore. Stodd groaned, holding back the pain as blood dripped into his eyes, panting as he watched Morgana leave, spouting some words of typical pirate nonsense. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the two long gashes along his mouth, nose, and brow, and one small gash just above his left eye. A trademark if ever there was one.

The Scottish soldier looked around, and after tucking his sword back into a sheath, grabbed from the ground a pair of fine rifles, putting one over his back and marching out with the other, following close behind the pirates attempting to escape. In an odd sense he'd expected this, to have to fight Morgana. She never really seemed like she wanted the whore dead like Stodd did. He just wished the two giants hadn't turned up as well; it was going to make a difficult fight only harder.

Serpents. Enemies. Templars. Assassins. Pirates. Let anyone come. Let them all come. I'll meet them on the waters, with a thousand ships of the British Royal Navy behind me. I'll watch as every last dog of this world is put down. If I die, I'll be dying in a manor, on a hill, looking over all I've done for the good of the Empire and its people. And I'll have the skull of that whore as a cup!

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathon saw the Commodore pick up two rifles. "Just... Die... Already..." He sliced and stabbed, and when he had enough room, he pulled out four throwing knifes - two in each hand. He threw them both at once, two at his left leg, the other two at his right. For good measure, he took out his pistol, shot at his right leg, and holstered it. He pulled out his daggers once more, and continued stabbing, slicing, and beheading. Yet, he like Damian was, was becoming weary.

Morgana O'Reilly

"Up yer arse, cat lick. Should have known from the start that you were a cute hoor" Morgana growled as she turned to face the Commodore. She grasped her claymore firmly, ready to attack the Commodore once again. She ran around to the Commodore's back, and attempted to land a few well placed kidney shots.

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

"I should never have sent Johnson and the others home. I should have been more careful. Why didn't I just wear that bloody Mayan armour?" While she was used to hallucinations, this was a whole new level. She saw all her dead friends before her, and heard them calling her name. "Welcome home, Elizabeth..."

"Jonathon! C'mon!" Yelled Damian, kicking open a door. "We head for the Maybelle!" Jonathon stood in the doorway, finishing off a few more soldiers, as Damian walked closer to the frigate. Jonathon joined him, shooting British Soldiers from afar with a crossbow, as Damian murmerd to Elizabeth "You have so much more to live for... So much to see... You havn't even been to the other side of the Ocean... c'mon, stay with us... Stay... Alive..." He looked up to the Frigate. He was twenty paces away. "LOWER THE BOARD, AND GET SOME RAGS AND ALCHOHOL!" The pirates obeyed - they lowered the board, and Damian walked upon it, and lowered her onto a chair. "I SAID GET SOME RAGS!" He yelled again - his crew was used to the other kind of Alchohol. Jonathon joined them, and pulled back the board.

(Oh my God, I just cried more than when Read died. A whole new side to Damian.)

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

Elizabeth could barely make out the voices echoing around her. She couldn't even distinguish what was real, from what was a hallucination. At least she couldn't hear the Commodore any more, so she knew that at least one of the Butchers had made it to safety.
"You have so much more to live for... So much to see... You havn't even been to the other side of the Ocean... c'mon, stay with us... Stay... Alive..." 
"Ent?" Her voice was soft, quite, and weak, but it was still there. She was still alive, barely.

Morgana O'Reilly

Morgana was still locked in battle with the Commodore, drawing his attention away from the Butchers. As soon as they were gone, she was going to turn tail, and sail as far away from Jamaica as she possibly could. However, there was something she needed to get, something she knew that Elizabeth would appreciate, that was only if Elizabeth survived.

He turned to Elizabeth, seemigly relieved. "Yes - I'm here... do not worry - my crew is getting rags and alchohol - enough to sail back... do you wish to return to Ingua?" He turned his head to his helmsman, his back up. "Oi, You there, get the men all of their rifles and pistols! Make sure none approach this ship, less it's a woman with a claymore!"

Elizabeth "Demon" Shay

"Yes please" Elizabeth said quietly before she craned her neck to look at the wound. "Shit!" While she had been through a great deal in her life, this was the closest she had come to death. She had hoped that it was night so she could look to the stars that had brought her comfort for the past three years with all she had lost. But there were no stars to be seen, so she made do with the large flock of swallows tattooed down her arm. Over the past two years, the flock had grown to almost fifteen in number, and she had watched the better part of those men and women die. "Thank you, Ent."

Morgana O'Reilly

Morgana watched as one of her men raced past her, carrying a net filled with bones, and familiar calico fabric. Morgana raced back to her brig, the Raven, and barked orders to her crew before she grabbed the bag of bones, and leapt onto the Maybelle.

Stephen ran towards the frigate, hoping the ship would be decent people. A shot quickly dashed his hopes as it burried itself into his arm, causing him to curse, "Christ! Don't shoot! I'm not some stupid redcoat!" He raised is hand up to shoqw he wasn't up to anything. Perhaps his outfit may cause the officer to let him on.

Morgana O'Reilly

"Who are you, and what business do you have here" Morgana asked coldly as she glared at the stranger before her, and she backed towards Elizabeth. "Stodd couldn't be this quick when it comes to sending men to do his dirty work. But then he strikes me as a man who would prefer to kill someone himself." Friend or foe, Morgana wouldn't let her guard down, nor her claymore for that matter. She was still holding the net of bones, but that was because she hadn't found a respectful way to deal with them, and she wasn't about to give a dying woman the bones of one of her friends.

"Stephen Dunn. Bounty hunters captured me and sent me on one of their slaver ships. The same ship that now lies at the botton of the sea near by. That was the explosion." He paused, feeling the wound, "I just want out of this crap hole, nothing ill towards your lot. Even if you shot me."

Damian stood side by Morgana, looking down at this Stephen Dunn fellow. "Let 'im on! He hasn't attempted to attack, and," Damian said, looking at one of his soldiers, "I know I to told 'im to tell ya lot to not shoot her first, but ask questions if it's a single man! If we was a brit, we could've interrogated him." The crew member quickly put down the rifle, embarrassed and hot headed.
"LOWER THE BRIDGE AGAIN!" The board was put into it's slot, touching land again. "Come a'board, I have a good fellin' 'bout ya."

Morgana O'Reilly

Morgana eyed Dunn cautiously before she took a seat beside Elizabeth, her hand still resting on the hilt of her claymore. As a Grand Mistress of the Templar Order, she had landed herself in hot water.
"How are you feeling" Morgana asked, her voice thick with concern.
"Felt better." Elizabeth noticed the bones and calico vest in the net, and smiled. "Thanks."
"The more you talk, the more energy you waste. Now shut up, Demon, 'less you actually want to die?" Morgana couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation, the best Assassin healer in the West-Indies, in need of healing.

Stephen nodded his head in thanks, walking over the bridge. A shot a pain ran through his arm, causing a gasp of air, "You won't regret this. Now if you'll excuse me, this arm won't fix itself." He extended the pivot blade, using it to remove the bullet, with a lot of pain, before tearing a piece of cloth off and wrapping it around the wound.