First RP of Pirate Room;

--- Adara;

	Hey, at least the girl hadn’t been blindfolded this time. Other accommodations regarding her personal comfort weren’t taken into consideration though as these strange creatures captured her upper arms in their vice-like hold. Her gray irises were wide with confusion as her world was once again turned upside down. From forest green to the overwhelming blue of the ocean, Adara’s adjustments to the sea life had just been coming to order. She was beginning to learn a bit more of this foreign language these creatures spoke, she was growing used to the feel of clothing on her body and she was starting to accept that she wasn’t ever going to see her beloved forest again. This place was a new layer of hell, however. Unlike the boat which only allotted a certain amount of space and body personnel, this area was ridden with creatures in abundance. They were loud, smelly, and posed a certain level of danger that Adara felt the need to shy from.
	The two men, both lacking in hair and teeth and adequate hygiene, continued to drag the brunette from the platform. Although the captain of their ship had taken a special liking to Adara’s… company, his avarice for money overpowered his lustful desires. So, the agreed upon plan was that these sailors would take Adara down to the back alley belonging to traders of all types where they would sell her for a decent price. Adara understood none of this, of course. She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of those shiny red globes spread about many market stalls. Apple trees were not native to the forest where she grown up in, therefore she found them enticing. She wanted to taste one of them. But just as the sailors neared a stand that offered an abundant amount of apples they took a quick turn, sharply tugging Adara along with them. She let out a cry of disappointment that was quickly rewarded with a sharp strike to the face, a thin line of blood appearing along her cheekbone.
	She growled but didn’t do anything to further provoke them. After all, she had a plan. And for it to go without fail she would need the sailors to be distracted. She bided her time, staying silent and docile when the sailors eventually stopped in a dark alley that was teeming with the dirtiest of the sailors, Jack of all trades, and prostitutes. It was most likely the place where the Devil took his Sunday afternoons off. The sailors greedily looked around, sniffing out some rich man or woman looking to give them a generous amount of money in exchange for the girl. Adara waited a second more and then she struck out, ramming her head into one of the sailor’s jawline. His hand went slack for a second and immediately Adara went for the knife tucked safely at her waistline, tugging it free from its hiding place before jamming it straight into the other sailor’s throat. He couldn’t even cry out, the blade cutting off his ability to speak, much less fend of Adara’s next attack.
	In which she tugged out the knife and sent it straight into the chest of the one who was still disoriented from her head slam. Wasting no time, Adara began to run. Except she wasn’t running in the right direction, instead she was only heading further into Nassau’s slime pool, a piece of fresh meat to the variant of scavengers that hung about in this particular place. / e /

--- Victor Barron;


	Victor Barron had long since discarded the attire of a captain of a naval officer in favor of plain clothing, a white tunic and a pair of black britches, with a pistol hanging from his belt, on the side of his hip, and a sword on the opposing side. The outfit was completed by a red bandana strewn upon his head, and for hilarity's sake, an eyepatch across one eye. Going incognito was the only way Victor could walk around the city streets of Nassau without painting himself as a target for every common man of Nassau to shoot at him. For dutiful servants (which he considered himself) under the English flag were scorned upon. He melded within the crowd, playing the part of a pirate well, avoiding eye contact with all and walking briskly to not garner interest. There was an alleyway he walked across, and upon glancing, he saw a woman struggling with two others. There was blood, and at a glance, the woman would not come out on top.
	An ordinary gentleman would have stopped to assist, but Victor was no such thing. He continued to walk onwards, not even stopping midstride, it was a scene he had seen hundreds of times before. Soon the woman's clothing would be ripped off and the echo of her screams of agony would be heard. Little did he realize that she was making quick work of them, but he was long gone. The man began to hum, pleasantly, as if the sight had brightened his mood. “Oh, a pirate's life for me,” he began to sing in chorus. “And-” But just as he turned the corner the same very woman who had been carving the two men with a knife ran directly into him. Victor stumbled backwards, but for the most part, his balance was in tact, and he was quick to recover. “That was rude of you. Didn't your mother ever tell you to watch where you're walking?” Victor paused, and inspected her. She did not look like she belonged her. “No matter! I'll accept several coins as an apology and a kiss on the cheek-” Victor stopped mid sentence again.
	But this time it was not because he was bumped into. It was because he was looking over Adara's shoulder, and saw a handful of men chasing her. “Lovely meeting you and all. Forget the payment of coins. I have a ship to board.” Victor turned heel and began to run away, the group of men had malicious intentions drawn across their sinister faces, and the last thing he wanted to do was to be caught in the fray. So his boots began to hit the tiled road just as fast as the stampede behind him, if not faster. (end)

--- The Siren;

	As a woman who had never been keen in the life of a pirate, her garbs proved to be more comfortable aboard a ship rather than on land. On the port of Nassau, she had an image to keep pristine and polished. Long gone was the comfortable attire when her waist was sinched and she was weighed down by layers of skirts. In her opinion, appearances were all that mattered to the men she was seeking and she would give them one. Her curves were bought out and the 'v' of her neckline gave one a view of her cleavage — just enough to give a hint as to the size of her bosom. She did not show her legs like some of the other prostitutes. She looked hard to get and far less experienced than the aged wine that they sipped every night with the females in the whore houses she frequented. In these parts, she wore a mask of mystery and gave teasing smiles and drawn out glances that ultimately turned to nothing. Inside, there was no potential prey and it made wearing an alluring mask all that harder.
	In an attempt to find amusement, or information that could prove useful to her and her double life as a captain of a famous ship; she strolled out of the brothel and into the cluttered outdoors. It was bubbling with life and the familiar scent of the sea wafted out to meet locals and those who were just visiting. This had been her home for most of her childhood, but as she was frequently away, those who remembered her ran few and sparse between but the threat of her cover being blown was always imminent. blue and green pools would roam over the inhabitants of Nassau and the noise that a population that big could bring in such a small place amused her. A smile would make its way on to her lips, only to drop as she was nearly toppled over by two people; one a male and the other a young looking female.
	Her bias would always show in times like these, she would walk over to them hastily and try to help the female up. It ruined none of her act, to help the female to her feet and to watch as the other huffed with fatigue. A woman who did not have experience with a man would never touch one so casually. "May I ask if you both are alright?" The high lilt of her voice broke the silence, though she opted to look away from the two to see if there would be anyone joining them, since they looked as if they were running from something or someone. (e)

--- Adara;

	In her confusion and haste it wasn’t much surprise that Adara could not achieve a quick, simple getaway. She didn’t know the area, she barely understood the language. Casting a glance over her shoulder Adara realized other sailors were now in hot pursuit of her person. Fear, anger, and adrenaline sharpened through the veins of her blood and despite her scarce eating habits and dire living conditions over the past few months the girl was able to push away all her exhaustion, her desire to survive far greater. Thusly she moved even faster, her bare feet beginning to bleed at some point but she either ignored her pain or built upon it as motivation to escape these sailors. She hadn’t even been around men until that moment, but from her time with them she had come to understand most of them were cruel, demanding, and merciless.
	So, when she slammed front first into the sturdy physique of another sailor, albeit somewhat cleaner than the ones whose company she had been forcibly burdened with, she fell flat onto her bottom. Disoriented it gave the sailors just the right amount of time to near the place where Adara now sat upon the ground. Before she could both right herself up on her feet and capture a logical mindset again the young brunette felt flesh brush against her own, helping her up. At that point all of Adara’s exhaustion, her sudden burst of speed and strength, slipped from her body. She had cuts and bruises all along her frame; the freshest one to behold was the cut along her cheek from the smack she had gotten only moments before. Adara’s gray eyes quickly ran over first the sailor she had tumbled into, and then she sized up the woman who had helped her out. The sailor appeared cowardly; the woman gave off an air of innocent worry.
	Adara, following instinct, got the hint that because of the woman’s concerned tone, although the forest girl wasn’t able to make out the words, she would offer more protection compared to the male. Not a moment after the sailors reached out for Adara the young woman dashed behind the strange, eye-colored woman, reaching out to tug on Victor’s sleeve, dragging him back until his shoulder aligned with the prostitute’s. In mere seconds Adara had crafted a barricade of two people who she hoped would protect her from the sailors. She weakly pulled out a word from her limited dictionary, “H-help,” she then pointed to the sailors, unable to process the idea of returning to a ship like the one she had been kept prisoner on for the last three months. / e /