Charlotte
The gunslinger could practically see the fury lighting in the pirate's eyes even within that shell of ice. Already leaping away from an assailant almost entirely locked in place, the crab claw missed Charlotte by a country mile. The blonde couldn't help a cheeky little smirk as she slipped past and dashed over to Mendoza, moving to hoist him up over her shoulder and haul him out.
"Well, that was a fun time, Cappy," Charlotte shot back, "How about we do this again sometime. Maybe you'll bring a bigger crew next time."
Onboard the Harbinger:"I bid three threes."
When the Captain was away, First Mate Anders was in charge. Anders was more personable than Moira, and was willing to join the crew during breaks. Today, three of them were playing Liar's Dice, and the Hammerhead Abyssal stood out among the spectators. Of course, there was a secondary purpose to this: it was a part of Anders' job to get a feel of the crew, to hear any rumors, and guide them towards more productive (and loyal) trains of thought. However, the way Moira's been acting as of late, the last part was getting difficult. Discontent is growing among the crew. He may be missing an eye, but even he can see it.
Ever since that snake Larson got a hold of the Dead Man's Chest, Moira's been becoming increasingly irrational. Sure, things weren't great before, but now they are nearly intolerable. She is now far more prone to anger, often punishing in excess of what the infraction would have called for. Even Anders is finding it harder and harder to follow her, thoughts of mutiny occasionally whispering in his ears. Their souls are shackled to the ship, not to her, and their contracts are for serving under the mast...
Anders ceased that train of thought. He was a man of his word, not a
traitor. Not yet.
"Jonas?"
Anders' eyes darted over. Sure enough, Jonas was there, grasping his shoulder and in obvious pain. "Ya look like shite, Jonas!" He called over, "Where's Mendoza? The Captain?"
"They still back there," Jonas grunted, hobbling over to a barrel and resting on it.
"Ya left the Captain?!" of all the stupid things he could have done...
"Oi wasn' goin' ta stay there. Some blonde bitch was shootin' up the place. The othas are dead 'cept the Captain."
A frost-covered captain's hat emerged from the wet floorboard behind Jonas. In a flash, an icy crab claw grabbed the fool around the neck, causing him to make a choking, gurgling noise. "
And yer gonna wish you had joined them by the time I'm through with ya!" A fully-emerged Moira practically roared, before roughly tossing him back down. Turning her glare to the crowd, she quickly gave off her orders. "Battlestations, all of ya! All the cannons are ta be manned! There's gonna be a storm!"
"Ya heard her! To yer stations!" Anders reiterated while Moira marched to her cabin. The crew burst into action just as organ music started filling the air. The melody bringing about a change in the air, causing the skies to darken and the wind to pick up. The helmsman dived the ship into the river just as the torrential rainfall begun. The hunt was on, and Anders couldn't help but feel sorry for the sap who incurred such wrath in his captain...
