Private Tales Reckoning

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Amara shook her head emphatically.

"They can't...well, they could but...They can't kill one of their own. The mark would burn out. That's why it takes a tribunal to kill one of their own. Three who all agree they deserve death."

There were still more rules, things that she wasn't aware of, things that she likely wouldn't ever be told. The Reckoners were something you had to choose to be a part of, something you could truly only understand when you were in their midst.

She'd never wanted that life, not for a second. A life trusted by a piece of magic was cheap.

"How...How did he even do it? It takes three to mark, and..."

Amara looked at Emilie. Her face pale, as if there was some deep mystery and danger she did not quite understand.
 
"Well it's just that...If you killed the other men and they were Reckoners...It must have felt like someone was carving a knife through his flesh every moment he took to mark you."

Amara seemed to grimace.

The magic which kept the Reckoners in line was mysterious for even most of the insiders. Few knew how it all worked anymore, and fewer still even bothered to question it. The Reckoners kept themselves protected, and that was all that mattered for most of them.

"Did he tell you...why?"

The Captain looked briefly towards Mako. He was now moving slowly along the rafters of the ship, climbing up the great mast until he reached the sail. A hand wrapped around, and in one smooth motion he flipped onto the top of the beam.

Another cheer came from the men.
 
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Amara seemed almost bemused at the answer, watching Mako for a moment more before she slowly turned her attention back towards Emilie.

"Perhaps a good question to ask."

The Captain mused before she took a single step back and away from Emilie.

There was something inhuman about the way the woman moved. It was more liquid, smoother, than any being should be capable of. Her expression didn't change as she slipped away, the smile on her face telling of knowledge that Emilie did not have.

"You'll be fed, and welcome until we hit Teth. The trip is long, so I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to talk."

A chuckle escaped the Captain's lips as she slipped away, and behind Emilie the shouts of the crew erupted as Mako flipped down from the mast and landed on the deck with a loud thud.
 
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She pulled her attention from Mako back to the Captain as she stepped away from her, her brow furrowing at the suspicion that she was keeping something from her and she clenched her jaw in irritation.

"Thank you." she answered reluctantly, though she had no idea what or where Teth was. Not that it mattered. She huffed quietly and rubbed at the ache in her shoulder as her gaze drifted back to Mako. Her paranoia was gnawing at her, and she managed to stay where she was only for another few seconds after the Captain left her. She marched toward the crowd that Mako's little performance had gathered and she shoved her way through them unceremoniously and reached out to grab the mute's wrist and tug him out of the circle of spectators.

"We need to... talk." Well, she'd talk, anyway. She found a quiet spot before letting him go and shoving him against the rail.

"Why?." she said bluntly. "Why did you make me a reckoner? And my father. Why try to stop the others killing him? Why not kill me like you were supposed to?"
 
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One minute he was in the midst of cheering and jaunts, the next he had been yanked into a quiet corner for interrogation.

His head was swimming, not the least from the alcohol, and he felt as though he were about to throw up onto the floor. Lips thinned as Emilie spoke to him, the words flowing over his mind like a river threatening to wash over the land around it.

Lips thinned.

It was a good question, one that he had considered himself over the last few weeks. Why had he spared them? Why had he even bothered?

Mako had never quite been able to find the answer, not the way that he would have wanted.

After a few moments his shoulders rose and fell. A shrug. Non-committal. In truth, it was not Emilie's father that had swayed her mind. Not his plight. He still did not know what had made him kill the Reckoner, and in truth he likely would have killed the man if not for her.

"I just..." The thought rang through his mind, and then he realized she wouldn't understand.

His head shook. Then slowly he tried to mimic the phrase You didn't deserve it.
 
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Mako stammered, or his equivalent of stammering. His mouth opened as though he were about to say something, his body seemed to twitch slightly. There was a nervousness to him, like a cornered rat in the bilge of a ship.

He frowned, his hands raised as though he were going to flick something in that strange language.

Another second passed, his eyes glanced to the floor, to Emilie's feet, to her legs. He seemed to stare for a moment, then looked up at her. There was another long pause, and then he pointed to himself. I didn't want you to die.

Mako tried to communicate that as best he could.

Tried to get it across.

A selfish impulse maybe? No. Not that. He had enjoyed their time together. Had enjoyed that day. He'd genuinely wanted her to live...spend more time with her.

More than that...Mako's lips thinned.
 
His reaction was unexpected. He'd looked cocky and smug and just plain pissed off but this was the first time she'd seen him look nervous and uncertain. She'd expected him to fight back rather than just sort of...cower. She glared at him as he seemed to think on his answer, and when she read his lips she frowned.

She continued to stare for moment longer, unable to stop a single tear splashing onto her cheek as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I want the truth. Did you know that he was my father when we.." she clenched her jaw. "Did you use me?" she grit out the word as though it were painful to say. It made her feel cheap, dirty and just outright stupid, but she had to know.
 
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A frown touched his face, his head shook...and then dipped into a slight shamed nod.

There was nuance that speech offered, explanation in words would have been so much easier. He could have told her that he'd had no idea of their relationship. That he'd had no idea that things would lead to where they had lead.

The truth of it was that he hadn't thought she was connected to the man that had killed the Reckoner. He'd thought she was just some village girl, someone that they had been paying to get them food.

Perhaps that was an excuse, but it was the truth. Because she hadn't been hiding he'd not thought she was part of it, he'd not thought that she was connected. There had been no way of knowing that fact, but to claim he hadn't used her would have been a lie.

After a brief second he held up a hand, as if to stop himself. Then he made a motion of connection. Didn't know he was your father.

He tried to make that motion, but he knew that saying no entirely was a lie.

Just thought he'd paid you to help. He moved his lips slowly, made a motion of her holding the basket of food.

There had been no way of knowing. The Mark didn't give you information about the killer, what had happened, it just drove you to go, to avenge. There was another pause. I never intended to...

Like you so much.
 
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Emilie wiped furiously at her cheeks as he answered her with a nod, a breathy laugh tumbling from her lips as she shook her head. Of course he had, what had she thought his answer would be? 'No, I care about you...?' She laughed even more at the thought, but there was no mirth in the sound.

"Paid me to.." she frowned as she watched him gesture the basket of food. How had he known about that?

"You followed me?...You mean that I led you straight to him?" she covered her mouth as a sob caught in her throat, but she cleared it in favour of anger. She'd cried enough in front of him, and now that she knew for certain he'd used her, crying about it was just pathetic. And so instead she scowled at him as she grit her teeth.

"I wish i'd never set eyes on you." she frowned, trying to maintain composure in her voice. "I hate you. Now, stay the fuck away from me." she warned as she stepped back, looking him over with a look of disgust before turning to leave.
 
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Mako stood there silently, not moving as Emilie whirled around and stalked away.

The young Pirate didn't know what to do.

Her anger was entirely founded, he knew that, though in the back of his mind he still did not think he deserved all the blame. Reasoning that, of course, would have gotten him absolutely nowhere. Her brother was still dead, her fathers life in disarray. Her own tied to a criminal organization.

Telling her that no matter what he'd done the Reckoners would have still come would get him absolutely nowhere. Pointing out that he had saved their lives with the mark even less so. Particularly when he hadn't been able to save them all.

So he just stood there.

He quietly watched as she walked away, frowning. It would be a long, long journey to Teth.
 
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Emilie needed a drink, so Emilie drank, and she drank a lot. The more she drank the duller the ache in her shoulder and the less she cared about anything. She threw back rum after rum, she danced to the music on deck and swatted at grappling hands with a laugh each time she stumbled into one sex-starved sailor or another.

At some point it started to rain, but it did nothing to dampen the carousing, and soon her hair and clothes were soaked through. A thick arm wrapped around her waist from behind and she was pulled against the hard panes of a chest to dance. She had no idea who he was, and she was too drunk to care. She allowed the hands to wander and the lips to explore her neck and shoulders as she threw back another rum.
 
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Mako didn't follow after Emilie, not initially.

He kept back. Stayed away, considered what he would have to say or what he could do. Every time his thoughts came up empty, no answer, nothing that he could do to make things better. He had never been in this situation, had never been taught for it.

Radic had certainly never mentioned the ways of a woman's emotions, mostly because the bastard of a Pirate had never cared. He searched for Amara, but...well he found her cabin door locked and some noises emanating from behind it that quickly made him spin around and back away.

When he did so he found Em on the deck of the ship, in the midst of the celebration.

He saw a bulky sailor of a man dancing besides her, grasping at her bottom and letting his fingers get filled with her rear.

A spark flickered through him, anger, jealousy perhaps. It rushed through every fiber of his muscles and flickered down his spine. As the emotion sparked, so did a sudden jolt of purple light at the man's feet. As his hand reached up towards Em's waist a rotten board of wood suddenly gave out beneath him.

The man suddenly tumbled to the left, his hands slipping off Em as he fell onto his face.
 
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She was turning in confusion to look down at the fallen sailor when another seized the opportunity and grabbed her arm, pulling her in for a dance.

"Looks like yeh were too much fer ol' Tam teh handle." the man winked at her. "But i'd sure like teh give it a go." his brows lifted and fell suggestively. These men clearly didn't get much female attention living their lives at sea.

Emilie's eyes were heavy as she laughed incredulously, though she had no time to respond when another hand gripped for her other arm.

"I ent too sure you can handle a redhead, Fin, i'll take her off yer hands an' spare you the embarrassment, lad."

Emilie's head fell back as she groaned. "Fucking pirates."

"Aye, you will be, lass." Fin said, and they both grunted in amusement.

Her eyes rolled, and she lifted her foot to slam her heel down on the man to her right before the left took a jab to the throat. One hopped on one foot, barking his rage, the other held his throat as he tried to get a breath in, but both had let go of her, and the others laughed.

Em boldly took a half tankard from a man as he was lifting it to his lips and she downed it in three grimaced gulps before pressing it back into his hand to another round of laughter.

She noticed Mako then, her brow furrowing as she squinted at him for a moment. There was some semblance of a smirk on her lips before she turned to the man nearest her and dragged him into a kiss which he happily returned.
 
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The young pirate took half a step forward as one of the pirates reached to grab Emilie, a surge of protectiveness running along his spine. Before he could move however she dealt with the situation herself. A foot was stomped on, a jab was thrown.

He bristled for a moment.

A spike of rage flicker through his chest. Fingers tightening, hand falling where the pommel of his hook sword would have been. Lips thinned even more as he grabbed at a weapon which was not there, a huff of frustration escaping his lips.

Then she kissed one of the filths.

Shock rung through him.

Jealousy, anger, envy. A thousand different emotions that all seemed to suddenly strike him at once. He gaped, and then something else happened. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, just barely, for the first time.

There was a purple spark of light in the sails above, the rigging twisted, one of the pullies stretched and then suddenly snapped. A loud creak of wood, and then suddenly the sail gave way and began to tumble towards the deck.

Shouts went up, some panicked, most confused. They yelled to grab the ropes, get the sail under control. Shouting that the ship would bank left under the pressure of only one sail still up. The canvas fell towards the deck, snapping and flailing in the wind.

Mako himself was frozen, confused.

Had he? Emilie.

The young Pirate thought to himself as he snapped out of the daze and searched for the Em in the chaos.
 
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She and the sailor both jolted at the sound above them, the chaos around her dragging her back to her senses. She stumbled as the ship banked, and already unsteady on her feet she fell and rolled hard into the side of the ship, the back of her head slamming against wood and sending her drifting dizzily to unconsciousness.
 
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Mako rushed forward, ducking through the crowd and catching sight of Emilie falling to the deck. She slammed her head against the wooden railing, her body going limp as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Fuck. The young Pirate thought as he slipped along the deck and slid besides her. The sail fell from the mast. Draping itself over the deck as the shouts continued to ring loudly out from beneath the canvas.

"GET IT BUNDLED UP!"

"FURL THE OTHER SAIL! GET THE FUCKING CAPTAIN!"

Chaos reigned for a few minutes yet, waves crashing against the side of the ship as it banked left and right. Mako pulled Emilie up into his arms, picking her up into his arms and quickly taking her towards the aft of the ship.

The sound of a door slamming open echoed out, Amara's clothes have disheveled as she looked upon the chaos. Her eyes almost immediately snapped to Mako, holding Emilie, an accusation in her stare.

The boy shrugged his shoulders, genuinely bewildered.

Amara shook her head, growled, and then began to bark orders. Within thirty minutes the canvas had been furled, the mast prepared, and the ship rocked slowly with the waves instead of against them. Order was restored, at least mostly.

A ripple of anger was settled on the crew, annoyance at their party being broken up, confusion at what had happened. The first mate seemed to stare at the pully that had snapped, his head shaking as he muttered about the damned thing being almost brand new.

Mako had made himself scarce, bringing Emilie to her cabin and laying her down before tucking himself into a nearby corner of the ship. He sat with his arms draped over his legs, chin resting on his knee, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.
 
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The combination of alcohol and the bump to the head made for one catastrophic headache. The choppy waves didn't do much for her sensitive stomach either, and she had to rush from her cabin to throw up the contents of her stomach over the side of the ship when she woke. She squinted in the mid-afternoon light and planted her elbows onto the railing, her head bowing into her hands as she groaned.

Her memory was patchy at best, but the more she thought about the previous night, the more she remembered, and the more sick she felt. Again she vomited and perched herself on a barrel, leaning on the railing and burying her face into the crook of her arm.

"You're such a dick, Em.." she muttered to herself, not noticing Mako sitting nearby.
 
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Mako's head leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.

He couldn't have said when he'd fallen asleep. Though when he had the memory of what had happened was playing through his mind over and over again.

The mute didn't understand it. Didn't know what had happened, but he knew something had happened. It had been a twinge of emotion, a press of thought, and then suddenly the sail had snapped. For some reason Mako couldn't shake the thought he had done it.

That somehow he had brought down the sail.

It made no sense, but even in his sleep he could see that strange purple spark.

The sound of Emilie's purging over the side of the railing woke him. His head snapping up and his eyes falling open as he heard her stomach empty into the sea. A small noise escaped his throat, a muted grunt of surprise that was all the sound he could really make.
 
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The sudden awareness that she was not entirely alone made her freeze, her head slowly turning to regard Mako through hooded eyes. "Mh.." she huffed and rubbed at her face again.

"If you're going to gloat, just don't.." she muttered. He didn't need a voice to make his thoughts apparent to her, she could just imagine his smug expression at her suffering. The ship lurched, and with it her stomach. Her knuckles paled as she gripped onto the rail, fighting to quell the nausea with a few deep breaths.

"I need to get off of this ship.." she huffed to herself.
 
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Mako shot up his hands in innocents.

He hadn't even thought of mocking her in some way. The mute still felt as though he were thoroughly in the dog house when it came to Emilie. Not to mention the fact that his own world had been half turned upside down.

We're not going anywhere for a bit. Mako thought to himself.

His legs dragged over the floor of the ship, pulling against his chest. He leaned forward, planting his chin on his knee.

It was the smallest he could make himself, though still larger than he felt.
 
Her brow knit as she watched him curl in on himself, wondering how long he'd been sitting there alone, if he'd slept there. She vaguely recalled being set down on her bed the previous night, the blanket pulled over her shoulders, and she knew it'd been him.

She sighed as she rubbed at the back of her head, wincing at the bruise she felt under her hair. More very vague flashbacks rushed through her mind, though still she struggled to put the puzzle together in its entirety.

"What happened to the sails?.." she asked with a frown as she turned to rest her back against the rails, her arms folding.
 
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Mako seemed to curl inward even more.

Somehow his body seemed to shrink, the shadows from the moonlight casting over him. He shifted slightly, uncomfortably. There was something, off about him in that moment.

Emilie would never have seen him in such discomfort. Even at the worst of times he exuded a small modicum of confidence. Sure he had been panicked, he had been scared, but always there had been a sense of assurance, that he would make it out.

Now?

Now it seemed as though he didn't have an answer.

The young Pirate frowned for a moment, then finally looked up at Emilie. His shoulders shrugged, but slowly. It was not a mocking answer, but a simple response. I don't know.

It seemed to say, but was quickly followed by a slow flicker of fingers.

I think...it was me. She would not know the signs, at least not the words of them. Yet how they moved was obvious, a quick flicker for the others, but there was no mistaking 'me' as he pointed to himself.
 
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