Pirate Game Fan Fiction


A Survivor's Word (Part X) by D.S. Devereaux


Author's Note: In this particular time, there has been no need to care about the realms of Marleybone and Aquila. -DSD

Destiny had very little spare time when she was under pressure of Avery, but now that she didn't have any duties from him, she could do whatever she wanted in her time. In that time, Destiny had converted a weapon case into a holster for her spear, one that she could attach (with an elastic) around her chest and shoulders. She also found, in Sarah's findings, scraps of cloth that she used as patches for her coat. Destiny used skarakeet feathers to embellish sturdy boots that she had originally, and from a corner retrieved a shining spear. Destiny loved feeling the tip of the spear and the point. It wasn't very sharp, but Destiny knew how its impact worked. In her coat, Destiny had lived out her wishes and sewed in pockets with buttons, where she placed two daggers. On the bottom were snaps, which she could unsnap if he jerked her shoulders the right way. She could then catch the daggers right away and be able to use them. Destiny was rather pleased with the results. With her clothing supply, Destiny put into a large duffel bag a smaller drawstring bag of Mojo vials and then maybe seventeen or eighteen empty journals, as well as ten filled ones. She included another drawstring of ink-pens and ink wells. She could easy collect quills from the Admiral as needed. Destiny slung the bag over her shoulder then onto a table as she reached for a few books then a jar of candles. Fastening her bag shut with a grunt, Destiny slung it on her shoulder again, then with her free hand picked a stool up by the leg. She bent down and hung a blanket on it.

“Well, I think that's it!” Destiny had been borrowing a cabin from Delaney for the past few days, and all of her wares were barely hers. Destiny closed the door behind her, locking it. She sulked out onto the deck, where Sarah Steele was busy taking the sails and rigging down. Juan toted a box of all maps, some that he drew and others that he picked up along the way of his adventures. Fin Dorsal had his goggles off because the humid air fogged them up. He had green eyes, Destiny noted. Fin carried not much – clothes, sheets, weapon supplies, weapons, candles. Sarah's bag was in the shadow of the mast, and Sarah only packed sheets and swords, as well as a few books tucked in at the bottom. Destiny laughed a little – what kind of captain was she; the adviser of chilly bookworms? Destiny felt the bulk at the bottom of her bag and supposed so.

Remmy poked Destiny from behind – okay, so maybe she was more friend than captain; she would need to do some research. Destiny laughed and turned. Remmy had also packed a journal with him, as well as three barrels of gunpowder that he carried in a fishing net on his back. Fashioned onto the net's ropes were a rifle, scaramanga-style musket, and Remmy held two pistols. On his shoulder were two towels and a sheet. Destiny gave him a half-pistol high-five and kept walking. She didn't want the moment to really end, nor did she want the ship to capsize.

Before Destiny even met her, Delaney had fashioned a plank into a stepladder with steps that could be tightened in certain positions. She twisted a knob on the side of each step to make them tight and she started down, first rolling her bags then crab-walking down, hobbling just a bit. Once she snatched her bags up, Fin stepped off, taking abnormally small steps for a shark. He grunted when he hit the bottom and nodded to Juan and Remmy, who also carried their bags down. Destiny waved Sarah off and then she herself started climbing. Destiny knew that she would be very ship-sick if there was a way back on, and she made sure to loosen each plank as she stepped off of it. One slip off of the ladder, and into the skyway you would go, on a constant fall until you hit the spiral threads and would be left for the sky snakes. Destiny stepped four steps down and then turned to sit on the ladder, taking out a simple matchbox. She struck one of many matches onto a candle that she brought, melting the wax on the bottom before lighting the wick, so the candle would stay in the wind, at the very least. Destiny watched the light flicker on the wick for a few seconds, humming a short verse of a seafaring song that she had heard;

“Paisley sails, silence the wails,
With gold from El Dorado;
Paisley sails, as we turn tails,
Into a place that I've yet to know.” Destiny looked on and opened her mouth for another verse.
“Flicker, fly, hush the sky,
Avernus drakes naught get ye now,
Flicker, fly, and should we cry,
That'll be yer doom, now.”


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