May the Father of Understanding Guide Us (Open)

Roger composed himself, as Elizabeth stood there, arms crossed, opposing. Somehow this made her more terrifying than when she'd been in her armour trying to kill him. But then again, he wouldn't be surprised that if she had heard anything they were talking about, she'd still be trying to kill him.

"Just a discussion between friends, dear Shay. Whatever you heard was likely a misinterpretation."

Ever the diplomat, he had to hope she'd believe him. He thought she'd been below deck, and if she'd heard any of it, then she must've been at the doors. Meaning she probably did hear a fait bit of it.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

"Oh sure" Elizabeth growled angrily. If there was one thing she hated more than the British or Assassins, it was liars. Nothing angered her more than someone lying to her. "Well I'm done for the day, and quite frankly, the sooner we reach Santiago, the better." There was only so much someone could take before they snapped, and Elizabeth was no exception. "You know what I'll be doing, Admiral. I'll see you later" Elizabeth growled before she made her way below deck to collect her prizes. She was trying her utmost to keep her temper in check.

Roger frowned and looked at Garred. They'd both felt the aura of fury off of her, both having more than enough experience with pissed off women to know it. The helmsman simply nodded, and the Admiral made his way down to the forward compartment, nearly four decks below him. He watched as men worked on the ship, some groaning in hunger as they worked, some walking around and eating while they had the time to.

Eventually, he made it down to the lowest level. He could feel the water shaking the ship beneath him, and could hear the hollow sound of the sea. It was dark and poorly lit, and mostly empty. The area was more to do with surviving bad weather and attacks than anything else. As he walked on, he saw a small light, and could hear the sounds he was after.

"What did you hear, Shay?"

The Admirals left hand rested on the hilt of his blade, prepared to do whatever he needed. He stood a fair few meters away from her, but she was gonna be faster than him. He'd need to hope in his skills surpassing hers, and he wasn't sure about that.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth was standing with her foot resting on the back of an Assassin resting on top of the rest of the Assassins. So far, she had only removed one head.
"Well, one of your men is considering shoving a bottle up your arse. Another is planing to have you sacked. One man in particular is planing to kill you as soon we reach Santiago" Elizabeth explained as she brought down her boarding axe, and cleanly chopped off the Assassin's head. Elizabeth set the head down beside the first one before she kicked the body aside. "But if you're talking about your conversation with the helmsman, then I heard quite a bit, Admiral Stodd." Elizabeth set to work on removing the next Assassin's head.

Roger grimaced as he saw the heads, dimly displayed in the light, their faces bearing a look of unconscious laze. He knew a few of them, but not too well. And if they were Assassins, then he didn't care for what he did know about them anyway.

"You know what I'm talking about, Shay. I want to know what you heard that gave you such an interest in what we were saying."

Roger didn't generally put on a voice of calm neutrality, but he was doing his best with it right now. It was the same way he spoke to the Governors of the West Indies, as well as people like Torres. A very diplomatic, inoffensive style. It was always good not give someone reason to cut off your head with a boarding axe, at least in the Admirals eyes.

Damian had taken to talking to the spiders. Looking up aat Martha, he said, "'Ey, you, ya gonna go over there, to that Theodora Silly Sausage ? Go ahead - start a war... a Spider War. Go. Go go go go!" He ushered the spider, appearing like a mad man to anybody who walked past his cell. "What are you waiting for, you - Ohp, I see, Gregory. Understandable." He said finally, for Martha was checking on Gregory, the challenged one.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth returned her boarding axe to its holster, and turned to face the Admiral.
"Really, Admiral?! Infatuation?! Do you forget who I am?! The Demon! Scourge of the West-indies!" Elizabeth sauntered up to the Admiral, and glared at him. Under normal circumstances, Elizabeth would have killed the Admiral where he stood. But she was on his ship: a British Man o' war. "My relationships are no laughing matter, Admiral. Incase you haven't noticed, my husband, and my former lover are dead. I've lost my parents to Templars, friends and child to the British, and I just lost my husband to the bloody Assassins." Elizabeth rolled up her left sleeve, and revealed the flock of swallows tattooed down her arm; the topmost being of her own family; the two large ones, her and her husband, and the tiny swallow between them was of her child.

"And incase you've not noticed, I've made no attempts to act on what are likely no more than fleeting emotions of a foolish old man, the likes of which wouldn't be too well looked upon by the Empire. I'm some fifteen years your senior. I'm an Admiral. I'm considered by almost all to be the very person who caught and ended you."

He looked down at her with a deadpan look on his face, his eyes meeting her eyes and matching their violence. He looked at her arm again, and saw specifically the ones that identified her husband, and her unborn child. He didn't feel good - he felt sicker than he'd ever felt in his life.

"I've no expectations that these feelings would ever be reciprocal, Shay. I've no expectations to have them within the next few weeks once we part ways. Garred is a man I trust and a man I've known since I was a novice, and he was a boy who cleaned the shit out of the latrines in Kingston. I'd tell him about everything, if I felt the need. What you overheard was the chattering of two men, one with no idea of what you've been through, and the other with less respect for you than you deserve. Though that might be his own fault."

Roger took a deep breath, looking at her for a bit, and seeing again her scars in the light. He was right - she'd not had them when she and he first spoke, nor since then. It was recent. He took a moment, and said something he'd wanted to say for a very long time.

"You didn't lose your child to the British, Shay. Nor your husband to the Assassins. Those events weren't the fault of the British, or the Assassins, or the Templars. If not for me they'd all be more than fine right now. In danger, but alive. I killed your son, and I dragged you to Port Royal, where your husband went to see you for the last time before his death. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't your fault, it wasn't the fault of anyone you deem it like that. It was my fault. If you have anger, do not take it out on the innocent."

He looked at her, and tensed his gut, ready for a punch, a stab, anything. If she wanted to, he could die down here and people wouldn't know till after she was on the dinghy and gone. He waited, and considered if this had been worth dying for.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth had considered killing the Admiral a few times before, and she really wanted to kill him then. She rested her hand on her boarding axe, took a deep breath, and let her hand fall to her side. "Let's just pray that you are right, Admiral, for your sake. I've lost far too many people in this war, that is why I no longer attempt to make friends. Damian and his brother, and Anne Bonny are the last friends I have. I'll not go adding any more swallows to the flock. I kill those who threaten those I love and care for." Elizabeth rolled up her other sleeve - a collection of scabs seemed to concentrate around her wrist - and she returned to her trophies. "Do whatever you want to do to me, Admiral. It's not as if anyone has ever asked permission anyways." The Shays were a proud, stubborn, and violent family, and they would never admit to their shame.

[[OOC: Please pardon if I got the stuff about the scars wrong. I can't find the post where you described it properly.]]

Roger sighed, as she returned to her work. He looked at the floor, scratched the back of his head, and then turning to head out. For some time, he felt as if he was being stabbed. He felt as if there was one in his gut, one in his back, one in his throat, he felt like a deadman. And he expected to have that feeling ever time he saw her now. He stopped at the ladder up, and sighed.

"Elizabeth, before I go... You didn't have those scars when we arrived in Port Royal. They don't look like the kind of scars you get from weapons. I didn't see you for some time when we parted. What happened while we were there?"

He'd barely landed a blow on her when they fought, but someone seemed to have landed a few choice hits on her. He didn't expect such a thing to be true, but at this point, he felt it'd be worth asking when he had the chance.

(The first thing I thought of when I read the first paragraph:
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad name. XD)

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth moved a hand to her face, and hung her head in shame. She would never admit to what happened back at Havana. Perhaps it was the proud Shay blood that flowed through her veins, or perhaps it was just how Elizabeth was, but Elizabeth tended to keep certain matters to herself; she had even lied to her husband about such an event once.
"Let's just say that there were some men back at Havana, and... Well, they're all dead now." Elizabeth was hoping that the Admiral wouldn't realise what had happened. She didn't want to be seen as weak for allowing such a thing to happen.

Roger stepped away from the ladder, frowning with a bit of anger on his face. He knew the Spanish styles, he'd heard what they did to the Cuban people, as well as the natives of Mesoamerica. A woman like Elizabeth in one of their cities, fair skinned in comparison to a Spaniard? He had to assume what she was talking about, but deeply hoped he was wrong. He didn't say anything, not yet. He remained calm, his voice soft, almost indistinguishable over the churning of the waters.

"Elizabeth. What did they do? I fear that I may already know, but I fear even more than I'm right."

He looked at the back of the ex-pirate, and for a moment remembered the scars on her back. He didn't know how she viewed her scars, but he raised a hand to his own face and felt them. To him, scars were no shame. A true soldier bore scars, for a true soldier earned their power, they did not become gifted with it.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth went white with shock; she didn't think the Admiral would be bothered to ask more than he already had. She wondered if she should come clean about what happened.
"I really don't want to talk about it" Elizabeth said quietly as she sat on the pile of Assassins. "But I may as well tell you since you'll eventually press it out of me. You actually remind me of a honey badger; persistent." Elizabeth ran her fingers through her pitch black hair, and sighed. "I was on my way to the tavern after doing the books at the brothel when some men cornered me, and... Well... One of them forced themselves onto me. Ripped the bastard's heart out at the first chance I could. Killed the rest of them before they could do the same." Elizabeth drew her hood, and ran the tip of her hidden blade along her wrist. "I'm proud of all my scars, but not these ones" Elizabeth said quietly as she touched the wounds on her face that she acquired at Havana.

Roger didn't really know what to do. The last time someone had spoken to him about an issue such as this he'd been in London with a dear friend, and they'd simply embraced and discussed it in that matter, as friends. It all went smoothly. He imagined hugging Elizabeth wouldn't go down too well, and wasn't sure what to do instead. He simply stood there for a moment, and looked at her.

"Every scar is a scar worthy of pride, Elizabeth. You may not have gotten those ones in a proud way, but you put down men who've likely done terrible things since they were old enough to know how terrible their acts were. They'd have done the same to other women in that city, your age, older, and younger. You went through... you went through a traumatic experience, I'm certain. But your suffering will ensure that at least a few others do not feel that pain."

It wasn't much really, but it was a mantra Roger had stood by ever since he'd joined the Navy. It helped get by every day knowing that if you died you'd wind up rotting at the bottom of the ocean; if every bullet you take, every cannonball you see fly by your head, if every blade and cut and scar meant that someone else might not feel it instead, it meant he was doing a good thing.

He stood silent, watching Elizabeth. He didn't know what she thought of anything he was saying, of anything he meant. As far as he knew, she was going to say he was insane. He hadn't been in her position. He'd never been in such a position.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

"Truer words have never been spoken, Admiral" Elizabeth said with a laugh. "I guess you can understand why I injured one of your men, and threatened to kill the others." Elizabeth stood up, and returned to her work. She made short work of the rest of the heads, and stuffed the heads in a bag.

"Jaysus, this is going to take a lot of work" Elizabeth groaned as she set to work on cleaning the skulls. Panther started nibbling at some of the flesh Elizabeth had stripped from the Assassins' skulls. "Go ahead, Panther, I was going to use it for chum anyway."

"Thank God, you're still alive" Elizabeth said happily as she joined Damian in the brig. Panther followed Elizabeth happily, and De Payens was perched on Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth had a blanket wrapped around her, and what sounded like a bag filled with bottles of alcohol. "Mind if I stay here for the night" Elizabeth asked as she curled up against the bars of Damian's cell. Elizabeth drew her hood, and pulled the blanket up to her face while Panther curled up at Elizabeth's feet, and De Payens forced his way beneath the blanket. "By the way, I brought you some more whiskey" Elizabeth said as she slipped a bottle through the bars along with some tack.

"Ah, splendid. Thank you. And, I gues you can stay if ya want. Theodora ate a husband."  He said, opening a whiskey, and took a sip. He looked over, and said, "So, any news 'bout what goin' on 'bove ground? I need to move... to breath... the air down here is incredibly hot, ya know. I'm only barley sweating because of the rags. You can sleep away from the bars a bit, if you want privacy." He finished, as he took another sip.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

"I'll only move if I'm making you uncomfortable, other than that, I really couldn't give a shit" Elizabeth chuckled as she pulled the cork from a bottle of rum, and took a sip. "Well the Admiral denied my request, so you won't be able able to go topside. But the wind has picked up, so we might reach port in half the time."

"Alright, well, long as no physical harm is done." He sipped a bit of the whiskey, and said, "Damn... well, 'less we are getting there in half the time. Not sure I could last that long without going mad first." He drank a gulp of whiskey, and said, "Pull up some sacks of sugar - Jonathon tells me they're relativitley soft."

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

"Trust me, you won't be the only one going insane." Elizabeth tried to move, but Panther and De Payens weren't having any of it, so Elizabeth simply accepted her position. "Oh, and Johnathon might want to be more careful if he leaves the brig in future. I've been doing some work recently, and... Well, Jonathon just needs to be more careful from now on." Elizabeth looked at the ocelot sleeping at her feet, and smiled.

"Ah... I see. Taking care of Assassins for the admiral?" He asked, as he rubbed his forehead. "So, what's the first order of buisness when we get to port?" He yawned a bit, and drank a gulp of more of the whiskey. "Take it'll be initiation time?" He asked, finally.

The Admiral sat on his bed, sighing as he looked at the small chest sitting on his desk, the same one he'd had to get delivered to his ship using three different carriers. He'd taken it from Torres' estate, and he couldn't help but feel ill looking at it. It was a nice box and all, but it was a symbol of his first outward act against the Templars. They actually had a reason to kill him now. He was just glad he'd taken the right precautions.

Roger unlatched the box, and opened it slowly, looking into it. A number of letters, some open some closed, as well as a small purse of gold and gems. He looked at the letters and sighed, seeing names of officials in London, New York, Sao Paulo, Paris, even all the way to Peking in China. He rubbed his head again, realising yet again just how powerful the Templar Order was. He was meddling with fire. As he sifted through papers and, by the look of it, scales, he found the thing he was after. A small, golden pendant, barely the size of a coin. He held it in his hands, looking at the odd imagery on it. He laid it down on his desk, and looked back at the chest. He took out a few key letters, and put them back in his desk, before taking the case and tucking it beneath his bed, under a blanket, behind a rolled up carpet. He'd be dropping that off on Santiago, to try and escape from any eyes of the Templars.

The Admiral walked back to his desk, and as he did so he looked at what was left on it; a few letters, the small gold pendant, and of course the long golden sword he had used during his initiation of Elizabeth Shay. According to Torres, it was a Sword of Eden, and though broken, it could be repaired, and prove more than useful in ensuring control and order. Roger grabbed the sword and pulled it around, looking at the hilt, where at the pommel, a small empty area sat. He grabbed the pendant, and placed it into the opening, and waited. Nothing happened.

Stodd sighed and sat down, rubbing his head and dropping the sword back on the desk. He stood up violently and grabbed it, prepared to hurl it out of the window - he could be killed for having stolen that pendant, and all for nothing. But then, as he held it, he noticed something strange. As if he could see more, hear more, sense more. He could see the men on his ship, some working, some fighting drunkenly. And three people sitting down in the brig.

The Admiral snarled and pondered what to do - he didn't have to think too hard to know who it was, after all.

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Elizabeth had fallen asleep against the bars of Damian's cell; sprawled out like a squashed spider. She knew if she was discovered, she would be hung from the bow. But Elizabeth really couldn't care less, she just wanted to sleep, she wanted to feel safe, she wanted to be close to someone she trusted, she needed to be close to a friend. Elizabeth curled up into a ball, and wriggled her way closer to the bars. She had taken on childish behaviour, but she normally did so when she was terrified. Elizabeth was suffering a nightmare of her husband's death, and then she suffered another nightmare of death: she saw her death at the hands of the Admiral. Elizabeth pulled the blanket further over her head, and buried her face in her arms.
"You'll kill me no matter what I do, so just do it already. Kill me. End my life, it's not worth it" Elizabeth moaned in her sleep.

"Hopefully no one saw me down there" Elizabeth said quietly as she curled up on her bed. De Payens was eating some leaves from a plant Elizabeth kept on her desk, and Panther was batting a ball of paper around the room. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at the ocelot.

Roger stood outside the door of his 'guest', holding in his hand a long golden sword, feeling it pulsate through his body. He felt physically stronger with this, he felt like he could command the entire crew to efficiency untold. He felt like he could knock this door down and slaughter the only person who ever truly challenged him in combat. But he didn't want to. Not know. He walked past it, and made his way down to the brig level of the ship, dressed in dark clothes. As he went, he called two men to stand guard outside. He made his way down, and quietly lit the lanterns as he went.

He made it to the brig, and lit the final set of lanterns, looking at Damien in his cage. And looking through the darkness, he saw his brother, the second of the Butchers. Roger felt his body tense up, as he held back the urges he'd been fighting for far too long. He pulled out his pistol, and snarled again, and finally gave in.

He shot into the cage three times, aiming to miss Damien. He didn't want the man dead. Not right now. At the same time he kept his eyes on the other Butcher, the silent brother. Elizabeth knew about all of this. He wanted to make her pay, make each of them pay. He wanted to let it all out, his fury, his anger, everything he'd been holding in for so long.

"You... I could have had you killed. I could have had Elizabeth killed. I could have your entire fucking fleet blown down to the Locker! Why do you petty little shits plague me like some sort of endless flock?! Why can you not grasp that I am trying to help you! What you have done has doomed everyone I was able to pardon! Doomed them all to death! Once the Navy hears about you and your brother being here, they'll blow down every one of those ships they keep tabs on! The pirates will vanish from this sea! All because you came here to, what, to save Elizabeth?! To save a women who is here of her own free will!? Do you think you help her by doing this!? She is nothing but confused and scared! She has no faith for anyone on this ship - not in me, that's for certain! She is here for your benefit, for your safety, and for her ends! Why, what pathetic reason for you have for dooming hundreds of your kin, and here?! Why!?"

Elizabeth "Demon/Satan" Shay

Upon hearing the gunshots, Elizabeth bolted up in her bed. She quickly flung open her chest, and changed into her set of armour before she pulled on the Demon's Claw, and gave it its blood offering. With her eagle sense, she could hear everything that the Admiral was ranting about. Elizabeth knew the Admiral was a violent man, and if he was wielding the sword of Eden, he might be more so. Elizabeth locked Panther and De Payens in her room, and raced down to the brig.

Elizabeth quietly darted the two men that were standing guard, and snuck into the brig.

Elizabeth raced up from behind the Admiral, leapt clear over the Admiral, and landed between him, and Damian.
"Admiral Roger Stodd of the British Royal Navy! I beg of you, do not do this" Elizabeth pleaded as she stood before her friend. Elizabeth had taken up a purely defensive stance, and the only weapon she had on her was the Demon's Claw, and her blowpipe. She had no intention of harming the Admiral, and she made it known by how she stood and spoke. "I don't know all that much about you, but I know that this isn't you, Roger. Please! Do not do this!" Elizabeth had never dealt with a sword of Eden, so she didn't know what it could do to its bearer. "Have you not had a friend who would do anything for you? Have you not known a bond between friends that is so strong, you feel like family? Do families not do everything in their power to care for one another" Elizabeth asked with fear and pain in her voice. "Butcher is such a friend to me, and I hope he sees me in the same way. You and I may not be the best of friends, nor friends for that matter. But I care for you, Roger, and I refuse to let you do this. I will not let you destroy what you have worked for!" Elizabeth raised the visor of her draconic helmet, and looked at the Admiral with pleading eyes. "Please, Admiral. Do not do this. This is all my fault" Elizabeth whispered quietly.

Roger saw in his eyes the bodies of Elizabeth and her kin, slain and hewed open. He saw his blades slashing through their chests, cutting their necks, severing limbs and maiming beyond belief, ruining them beyond recognition, turning once proud folk into less than chunks of wet meat, blood coated and soft. He saw the faces of pirates he didn't know, Assassins he didn't care for, and in the midst of them, he saw Elizabeths face, her light blue eyes staring into his. He saw it all, and then nothing, nothing but her face. He blinked, and saw her there, heard her. He wavered for a moment, before feeling another surge of power.

"I should cut you down where you stand. All you've done is bring me trouble, bring me hatred and fear, bring me confusion and animosity! I have become Dante, you are the woods within which I have lost myself! I was a man of the Royal Navy, I'm an Admiral, and I'm harbouring four bloody pirates!? Why should I not mount your heads upon pikes and wave them as trophies!? I've not had a true friend in decades! The last I had tried to kill me at Port Royal, and the one I wish I had stands in my way now!!"

Roger pointed his blade at her, feeling it hum in his grip, urging him to want her dead, to wish her gone. The blade beckoned him, it wanted him to live out that which he'd hoped for so long ago. It wanted to work for him, to bring him the victory he so desired, and that he so wore as a trophy without it as his true trophy. He wanted to, but he couldn't.

"My family... my friends... I've put everything I've ever had, everyone I know, they are in danger because of me... because of you...

The sword seemed to shake in his hand. He wanted to drop it, but it screamed to him, begged him to do what he pleased, to relish in the blood of this woman. He wanted to so desperately, but every time he thought it, he simply saw again nothing, nothing but her face. As if that was all he had left in this world.

"I have risked my career... my crew... I've lost my closest friend... I've pulled every favour I have left, and I've robbed the Templars... all for you... and your friends... I gave you all a chance to survive, and you throw it in my face... Elizabeth, do I hurt you? Do I torture you? Am I a captor? Is that why they come, to save you?"

He looked at her, and for a brief moment, he felt normal again, as the sword fell silent in his mind.

"Do you need saving?"