ʷʰᵒ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ; ᵐᵃˡ ᵇᵉʳᵗʰᵃ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

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"MAKE AMENDS... make amends..." Mal commented softly, standing in front of Ursula's Fish and Chips. The purple head figured if she cleared one negative, it'd open a new path of positive.

Yes, she was doing this for her own benefit but it'll be for Uma's good as well. Mal didn't understand why the daughter of Ursula wanted her head hanging on one of the Isle's poles so badly. They did have this bad ending to their friendship but it wasn't Mal's fault.

She was only striving to proudly be the next heir to her mother.

"Keek whit we hae 'ere," the accent was such a playful tune, sounding as if a child had discovered his favourite play toy.

Mal slowly spinned around on the heel of her shoes, stopping to stare at the villain boy behind her. The boy was a light-skinned brawny guy with dark brown hair. He wore a white ripped tank top, a red sleeveless leather coat, black pants with red ripped details with zippers and dark brown boots.

"Standing 'ere is bonny bold. Tis.. Gey... Admirable.." he spoke slowly, running his fake hook through the locks of her purple hair. Mal's hand shot up to roughly yank him by the wrist of his arm, "Touching me is bolder."

Mal's glare in her eyes was a slow-burn, fiercely piercing into his, "Never touch me again, Harry. Unless.. you want to end up wearing a real hook,"

"Ye'r oan Uma's territory," As the childish boy said the sentence, Mal's glare turned into awareness. She noticed many of Uma's crew mates were not only surrounding the pair, they were all staring her down as if she was their next new fresh meal.

'Great. I forgot I'm the enemy; not the friend.' The pitiful thought made her head ache. This was all her mother's fault.

"I'm here to see Uma. Would you be kindly enough to take me to her or does the queen need her extra five minutes of spa day before she can be disturbed?"

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" a crew member shouted.

Harry was about to speak on behalf of Uma before the sound of manically laughter cut off the chaotic bunch of standing villains. Out came a stomping average height, brown-skinned girl with thick, long turquoise hair put into braided dreadlocks. Her brown distressed boots stepped on the rottening scallops covered in mold and snails.

"Well, well, well," the girl gave a bright smile as her crew made their own pathway for her, all anticipating her actions to await, "The queen is here."

Harry bowed in her presence as he took her hand and kissed her leather black glove.

Mal sighed. She gripped the straps of her spray-painting bag as she shifted weight to her left leg. Not much was going on in her mind at the moment - besides her gut feeling telling her to walk back to her hideout.