donapirata

/ if i bring her back what then.

unraveIment

/ am I abt to be #KRISSED ?
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pyratics

/ don’t piss me off.
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tmpests

“Y’WAN T’ KEEP THEM CLOSE LIKE THIS. THEIR EYES SHOULD BE FOCUSED ON YOUR MOVEMENT. MAKE THEM T’INK YOU’RE PREDICTABLE.” the clash of metal is as rhythmic as the tide collapsing against the shore beneath them, its salt rising into the breeze and sticking to her lips. the tempest keeps close quarters with the lady pirate as they engage in combat, playing the roles of two opponents (though their partnership seeps through nonetheless as she resists a smile upon the sight of the other’s focus) 
          
          “NOW BACK,” her footwork turns words into action, swiftly leading the lady towards her as she continues to move backwards. “LET THEM CHASE YOU… /THEN/.” after the final parry she twists herself in the opposite direction at an unnatural speed and drops down to one knee, using it to whip herself into a half spin before disarming her. 
          
          “AN’ THERE Y’AVE IT.” she retrieves the sword and tosses it back to her. “DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK.” blue eyes brighten with an amusement that only she is able to bring out of her. there is no one else in this world that she would rather spend the hours with, share the deepest parts of herself with. her secrets are her secrets, her knowledge is her knowledge, for the lovely esmeralda is the heart that beats outside of the body. never to be severed nor parted from for as long as her blood ran through her veins. 
          
          “THIS SHOULD BE EASY FOR YOU. ‘TIS A DANCE, NOT A SONG.” SHE CANNOT RESIST A SMILE.

pyratics

A QUEEN IS A SWINE MARINATING IN MUD BATHS CREATED BY THE EXCESS OF HER OWN FILTH, AS FECULENT AS SHE IS A FAILURE. THE EARDRUM’S CLAPPER RATTLES INSIDE ITS LITTLE BELL, RUNG BY A DISTANT TANTRUM THAT ECHOES OUT INTO THE WHISTLING WIND. 
          
          “YOU’RE A LIAR. WE HAD AN AGREEMENT. WE HAD AN AGREEMENT!” 
          
          WHEN YOU SHAKE THE HAND OF THE DEVIL YOU BEAR HER CONSEQUENCE. SO MAY THE MAIDS COWER AT THE MARK OF MY HERETICAL TOUCH, MAY THE IMPRINT OF MY FLAMING FINGERS FOREVER REMAIN TATTOOED ON THE INSIDE OF YOUR TENDER WRIST. THIS DESECRATION OF DIVINITY IS ALL MINE, BRANDED BLOODY AND BRUTAL. YOU CAN SCRUB ME OFF UNTIL THE MILK WHITE SKIN SLOUGHS AWAY INTO THE FALSE SEA BUT I WILL STILL BE THERE AT THE EDGE OF ITS TUB WITH AN OPEN MOUTH, SPLIT WIDE LIKE HELL’S GATE AND EVER THE MORE STARVED, EATING THE LEFTOVERS OF YOUR THINNING HUMAN DISGUISE. SO SQUEAL ON YOUR MAJESTY, SQUEAL ON TO YOUR DEAF GOD. I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE, LISTENING IN HIS PLACE, FOR I AM NOT ONLY THE STAIN ON YOUR BODY. I AM THE STAIN ON YOUR SOUL. 
          —
          ENTER THE SERPENT’S NEST (CAPTAIN’S CABIN), THE NIGHT OF THE DEVIL’S DEAL 
          
          THE SPANISH DEPATURE OF THE GALLEON TRIO USHERS IN THE ARRIVAL OF A NEW LEAD, WITH ITS LOCATION CHARTED ON THE MAP THAT LIES WITHIN THE MIND. 
          
          SEKHMET ENTERS THROUGH THE CABIN’S DOORS UNANNOUNCED, NAVIGATING THROUGH THE VIBRANTLY STRIPED CORALS SLITHERING BENEATH HER, CREATING THE ILLUSION OF MOVEMENT AGAINST THE CREAKING FLOORBOARDS. HER LIGHT FOOTED PROWL SETTLES AS SHE NEARS THE FRONT OF HER CAPTAIN’S DESK. SEATED THERE IN HER THRONE IS THE SERPENT, HER FIERY BODY UNCOILED AND STRETCHING FREE IN THE EXPANSE OF HER DOMAIN. 
          
          SANTOS, RECLINED IN HER CHAIR WITH SCUM STAINED HEELS ON THE TABLE’S CLUTTERED SURFACE, STARES DOWN AT YELLOWED PARCHMENT HELD BETWEEN THUMB AND FOREFINGER. WITHOUT HER EYES ABANDONING THEIR STATION, SHE ACKNOWLEDGES THE QUARTERMASTER.

pyratics

[PART FIVE] 
            
            ❝ IT /IS/ QUITE THE FORTUNE…❞ THE VOICE ARRIVES BEFORE THE FACE, AS HARSH AS THE CRACKLING OF FLAMES THAT SURROUND HER SILHOUETTE. OUT FROM THE BLACK ENTERS A WOMAN ON FIRE, BURNING HOLES THROUGH MEN’S HOLLOW SOCKETS WHERE WIDE EYES ONCE SAT. WITH EXTENDED LIPS OFFERED TO THEM, SHE CONTINUES. 
             
            ❝ TO BE BLESSED WITH SUCH… FAVORABLE WINDS… ON THIS FINE EVENING, DOÑA. ❞ SHE STRIDES TOWARDS THE CENTER OF THE DECK WHERE THE CAPTAIN STANDS, HER FLAMING HANDS SLOWLY RUBBING TOGETHER. ❝ DOÑA… /PIRATA/, YOU SAY? ❞ BROW RAISES, HER HEAD TILTING IN FALSE CURIOSITY. DURING HER PAUSE, BOTH PALMS SEPARATE AND CLAP IN AN ABRUPT MANNER, EXTINGUISHING HER BODILY FLAMES WHILE PURPOSEFULLY INSTILLING FEAR WITHIN THE SAME MEN.  
            
            ❝ TELL ME, /DOÑA PIRATA/, WHY DO YOU INSIST ON KEEPING TRUE TO THE LADY AND NOT SIMPLY THE PIRATE? ❞ SERPENT EYES RETRACE BACK TO THE CAPTAIN’S DARK, CLOSING THE GAP THAT REMAINS BETWEEN THEM. ❝ I TAKE IT YOU ARE NOT ONE FOR SURPRISES. ❞ GRIN BROADENS AT THE KNOWLEDGE OF HER OWN ARRIVAL’S NATURE. I AM THE UNEXPECTED, I AM THE DEVIL YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW. 
            
             ❝ BUT THERE IS NO GREATER ONE, THAN WATCHING THE SKIN OF A BASTARD’S FACE SINK INTO THE VERY BONE UPON SEEING US FOR WHAT WE ARE, YOU AND I. WE ARE NO STRANGER TO THE FEELING THAT COMES AFTER, NOR ARE WE A STRANGER TO THE FIRES OF OUR OWN MAKING. ❞ HER INTENSITY SMOLDERS AS THE ATMOPSPHERE’S UNEASE RISES THICK AS BILLOWING SMOKE. THEN, A SHIFT IN EXPRESSION, REVEALING A SKIN UNSEEN BY THE COMMON EYE. BY THE EYE OF MEN. 
            
            ❝ SO, IT IS A PLEASURE TO BE ABOARD YOUR FINE VESSEL. /CAPTAIN/. ❞ 
            
            SANTOS EXTENDS HER HAND.
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pyratics

[PART FOUR] 
            
            ❝ SHE’S OURS! ❞ FIST HELD HIGH, SANTOS  BEGINS A CHANT, AND CLENCHED INSIDE THE BEND OF HER FINGERS MUST BE THE DUST OF DEAD STARS RIPPED OUT FROM THE NIGHT SKY.
            
            ❝ ¡LA SERPIENTE VIVE! ❞
            
            THE CREW REPEATS.
            
            “¡LA SERPIENTE VIVE!” 
            “¡LA SERPIENTE VIVE!” 
            “¡LA SERPIENTE VIVE!” 
            
            THE CHANT LEADS INTO THEIR FINAL HEAVE AND THE SERPENT BURSTS INTO FLAMES, FIRE SHOOTING FROM ITS END AND SPITTING OUT FROM THE FRONT OF THE FIGUREHEAD’S MOUTH. HER KNOTS STEADILY INCREASE, PROPELLED BY THE FIRE’S FORCE AND SLICING THROUGH WIND AND WATER LIKE A TORCH IN THE NIGHT. SHE GAINS ON THE VENGANZA’S SHOULDER, CAPTURING HER STILL. 
            
            HELL SPLITS OPEN AND SUSPENDS ITS HOWLING CREATURES INTO THE NIGHT AIR FROM SWINGING ROPES OF FIRE. IN GROUPS THEY SLAM AGAINST THE DECK AND CIRCLE MEMBERS OF VENGANZA’S  CREW. WHEN THE FINAL ONE HITS THE FLOORBOARDS, THE SOUND OF CHAOS LOWERS INTO A COLLECTIVE HUSH. OUT FROM THE MASS, HEAVY FOOTSTEPS CARRY THEMSELVES FORTH.
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pyratics

[PART THREE] 
            
            SANTOS STANDS AT SEKHMET’S SIDE AND  REVEALS THE PARCHMENT’S FACE. IN BOLD LETTERING, IT READS: 
            
            WANTED: DOÑA PIRATA Y LA TEMPESTAD. “LAS SIRENAS DEL MAR” 
            
            “SHE MOVES TOWARDS HISPANIOLA.” 
            
            THE QUARTERMASTER’S EYES IGNITE WITH FLICKERING SPARKS OF INTEREST, HER DARK FINGER TRACING OVER THE OUTLINE OF A WOMAN DEPICTED ON THE RIGHT. THEN, SLOWLY MOVING TOWARDS THE ONE ON THE LEFT. 
            
            “AND WHAT OF THE TEMPEST?” SHE INQUIRES, LIFTING HER FINGER. 
            
            “/PATIENCE/ MI LEONA,” THE YELLOW TONE OF THE POSTER BROWNS BENEATH HOT FINGERTIPS AS FLAMES SLOWLY BEGIN TO CREEP UP ITS LEFT SIDE, “TO CAPTURE A STORM, WE MUST FIRST LET IT COME TO US.” THE CURLED EDGES BEGIN TO BLACKEN, ITS GAPING HOLES EATING AWAY AT THE TEMPEST UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT OF HER IMAGE. 
            
            “ONLY THEN WILL WE HAVE WHAT WE CAME FOR.” 
            
            THE FIRE TRAVELS SLOWLY TOWARDS THE OTHER HALF, SURROUNDING THE IMAGE OF A LADY PIRATE IN BLAZING INFERNO. 
            
            “VENGANZA.” 
            
            “AYE… /VENGANZA/.” 
            
            — 
            NOW, BEFALLS THE NIGHT OF THE HUNT. ENTER HER: THE DEVIL’S GRAND CHARIOT SAILING ON INTO CARIBBEAN WATERS, SHROUDED IN THE NIGHT’S EVERLASTING SHADOW. AHEAD, LIES HER FRIGATE TARGET — THE VENGANZA. 
            
            REWARDING IS THE FEAST THAT FOLLOWS THE SLAUGHTER. I KEEP MY PREY TUCKED BEHIND THE BACK MOLAR, SITTING IN THE PIT OF MY SALIVATING MAW TO SAVOR ITS   PHANTOM TASTE ON THE TONGUE. IF LIFE IS A WAR THEN I MUST BE THE HUNTER; I SHARPEN MYSELF TO SEVER THE HEAD FROM THE SAINTLY NECK. DECAPITATION OF THE DIVINE BEGINS WITH ME, AND I  WILL CONQUER THIS VENGANZA WITH THE SAME FEROCITY. VENOM GLAND ERRUPTING, SATURATING THE FANGS AND TRICKLING DOWN THE CHIN. 
            
            THE SERPENT’S COLORS ARE HOISTED: A DEMONIC BLACK SKULL WITH A SERPENT COILING THROUGH ITS EYES AGAINST A BACKDROP OF FIRE AND BLOOD. SHE TRAILS BEHIND THE VENGANZA LIKE A STALKING PREDATOR THAT IS SOON TO CHARGE.
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