Post by Katara on Jun 6, 2007 14:01:32 GMT -5
Even Katara admitted this was bordering on desparate.
Taking a deep breath, Katara drew herself up, her hands automatically smoothing out the creases in her blue skirt and adjusting the boomerang that was slung about her shoulder. Her eyes slid across her reflection in the glass cracked mirror on the wall, searching for any specks of dirts or flaws in her appearance. Satisfied, she held out her hand and gave the door of the cabin two sharp raps.
There it was. The five second pause before the door opened. Sometimes Katara wondered if he did it on purpose. Perhaps he timed it exactly according to the great grandfather clock that sat across opposite from his desk... watching the seconds pass...
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...
"Come in, then..."
Katara pushed the door open to find herself in the familiar little cabin. It was wooden, like everything else on this sodding ship. A little chest sat in the corner, beside the grandfather clock, and the floor was scattered with papers and maps and a few clothes. Most of the chests lay open, all higgedly piggedy, and the walls had lots and lots of different WANTED posters tacked up to them. Quite a few were of himself...
Captain John Guillmore was bent over a desk in the far corner of the room, pouring over one of his many maps. He looked up sharply at the sight of Katara, then bent back down again and continued studying it.
Katara clasped her hands together and waited silently, her head bowed to the ground. She was used to this. The captain saw woman as second-class citizens. It was only very begrudgingly that he'd began to recruit them. In fact, Katara got the feeling that in his own sick mind, he saw it as employing prostitutes. Many a time did he invite a pretty girl up to his chamber, and afterwards, would never speak to her again.
To Captain Guillmore, a girl was either made for the kitchen or made for his bed.
Katara was just lucky to be in the kitchen category.
After a few minutes, he sighed, straightening up to look her in the eye. "Yes, Katara?"
Everyone seemed to know Katara's name. It was natural.
She curtseyed mechanically. "Thank you for seeing me, sir."
"Oh, get on with it." He sounded grumpy, but Katara could tell he was pleased to be shown such respect. He'd a big head. Any attention from any female just inflated his pride.
"I hoped that sir would give me the pleasure of tidying his things," she said softly, her eyes still firmly fixed on the ground.
"As usual," he said, looking back down at his map. "Ah... yes... of course you may..."
And so it was. Katara did what she always did- clean. The captain never seemed to mind her coming in and tidying up his things; on the contrary, he rather seemed to enjoy her company.
Katara sifted through the papers quite happily. Captain Guillmore never minded her sitting down and having a good look. Most of them were old diary entries, or lists of ports or whatever, so she couldn't make much sense of them, but others... they were old pictures he'd done himself. Although she did not particularily like the crude man who was her captain, nobody could deny he had talent. Often, she found herself admiring his detailed sketches, depicting some beautiful scenes- and many a beautiful woman!
His lines were thick... bold... and could bring together surrealism and realism all in one. They captured an array of emotions- pain, love, loss... all in one picture and brought to life many lands that Katara dared imagine could even be real. Different plants... different people... worlds of magic- strangeness... Men who ran in the forest with long spears; women who wore necklaces that stretched their necks like giraffes; creatures who crawled and swam and were colossal in comparison to any man...
Finding her way to her favourite collection of sketches, she lifted the black, leather book and began to flick through it.
"Have you drawn anything new, sir?" she asked eagerly, in spite of herself.
Looking up, she saw he was already watching her, his expression unreadable. After a moment's pause, she remembered herself, closed the book and continued working.
"You... like art, do you, Katara?"
"Very much, sir."
"Is that why you come here to tidy so often? To look at my work?"
"I admire it greatly, sir, but I tidy for my own pleasure."
"Pleasure?" he snorted. "What pleasure is there in tidying?!"
"It pleases me, sir," Katara said stiffly, straightening up.
"God, you're sad," he muttered darkly, a glimmer of his grumpy nature showing through his strangely formal exterior of today.
"Very, sir," Katara smiled sweetly, bending over a chest of drawers and beginning to fold the clothes lying beside it.
There was another stony silence as he began fistling with papers on his desk and she continued solemnly with her work, no longer admiring any great works of art that caught her eye.
"Come here, Katara."
It wasn't a request.
Katara got silently to her feet and made her way over to his desk. He had in front of him a plain piece of paper, and a thick pencil. She looked down at them uncertainly.
"Sir...?"
"Do you know how to draw, Katara?" he asked her, back to his strangely civil tone.
"Not really, sir," she said stiffly, acutely aware of the ways his eyes were staring eagerly into her own. A whole array of emotions exploded inside her, her heart beginning to pound a little faster.
Why was he being so nice? Why was he looking at her like that? What... what did he want?
He stood up, pushing his little chair out of the way and beckoning her closer. She stepped towards him uncertainly. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Forcing herself not to flinch away, she let him place the pencil in her hand and slowly, horribly, began to guide her hand across the page...
Although at first wary, all thoughts of the crude captain and his many... desires... immediately left her mind the second she saw the familiar bold pencil line sprout from the object she hold in her hand. In a strange awe, she felt her own mouth open slightly as Captain Guillmore (who was around her side and evidently had a very good view) began to sketch her profile.
It was... strange, feeling the motion of the the pencil in her hand. The captain's hand was larger than hers, and firm and steady. Each careful stroke of the pencil brought a strange light to the picture... Her nose- gosh, it wasn't so delicate as that? Were her cheekbones really so high- her hair so dark; her lashes so long? Her skin... his pencil gave it a rich quality, and in the pencil's light, it shone with a healthy glow...
Katara couldn't help herself from being so surprised. She looked so... pretty in the picture. She knew she was not ugly... but surely... that could not be right? Creative license had evidently carried the Captain away...
The Captain...
All of a sudden, Katara became aware of just how much time had passed. The Captain's hot breath on her cheek made her ill... and how close their two bodies had become- she suddenly felt very sick to have his arm around her as he drew.
Moving suddenly, her head flicked around to catch one of the many glances he'd given her whilst drawing her. His expression had been a mask of concentration, but the second he caught her glance... he winked.
Automatically, Katara moved out of his arms, dropping the pencil as though it had scalded her. The Captain was laughing.
"Good, god, lass!" he laughed. "Your face!"
"I have to go, sir," she muttered moving back across the room and hurrying to the door.
"You haven't finished tidying yet," he grinned nastily.
Katara's eyes widened slightly, suddenly realising just why the Captain thought she spent so much time in his cabin...
"I think I really have to go, sir," she repeated, grabbing the door handle, feeling a sudden shock as she realised her hand was slippy with sweat.
"Sure you don't want to stay?" he laughed (cruelly, or was that her imagination...?) stepping out in front of his desk and beginning to walk towards her. "We could draw some more if you really want... or I'm sure we can find another way to... ah... pass the time."
"Good day, sir," she said primly, stepping outside, and, quite literally, slamming the door in his face.
So much for being the kitchen variety...
Taking a deep breath, Katara drew herself up, her hands automatically smoothing out the creases in her blue skirt and adjusting the boomerang that was slung about her shoulder. Her eyes slid across her reflection in the glass cracked mirror on the wall, searching for any specks of dirts or flaws in her appearance. Satisfied, she held out her hand and gave the door of the cabin two sharp raps.
There it was. The five second pause before the door opened. Sometimes Katara wondered if he did it on purpose. Perhaps he timed it exactly according to the great grandfather clock that sat across opposite from his desk... watching the seconds pass...
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...
"Come in, then..."
Katara pushed the door open to find herself in the familiar little cabin. It was wooden, like everything else on this sodding ship. A little chest sat in the corner, beside the grandfather clock, and the floor was scattered with papers and maps and a few clothes. Most of the chests lay open, all higgedly piggedy, and the walls had lots and lots of different WANTED posters tacked up to them. Quite a few were of himself...
Captain John Guillmore was bent over a desk in the far corner of the room, pouring over one of his many maps. He looked up sharply at the sight of Katara, then bent back down again and continued studying it.
Katara clasped her hands together and waited silently, her head bowed to the ground. She was used to this. The captain saw woman as second-class citizens. It was only very begrudgingly that he'd began to recruit them. In fact, Katara got the feeling that in his own sick mind, he saw it as employing prostitutes. Many a time did he invite a pretty girl up to his chamber, and afterwards, would never speak to her again.
To Captain Guillmore, a girl was either made for the kitchen or made for his bed.
Katara was just lucky to be in the kitchen category.
After a few minutes, he sighed, straightening up to look her in the eye. "Yes, Katara?"
Everyone seemed to know Katara's name. It was natural.
She curtseyed mechanically. "Thank you for seeing me, sir."
"Oh, get on with it." He sounded grumpy, but Katara could tell he was pleased to be shown such respect. He'd a big head. Any attention from any female just inflated his pride.
"I hoped that sir would give me the pleasure of tidying his things," she said softly, her eyes still firmly fixed on the ground.
"As usual," he said, looking back down at his map. "Ah... yes... of course you may..."
And so it was. Katara did what she always did- clean. The captain never seemed to mind her coming in and tidying up his things; on the contrary, he rather seemed to enjoy her company.
Katara sifted through the papers quite happily. Captain Guillmore never minded her sitting down and having a good look. Most of them were old diary entries, or lists of ports or whatever, so she couldn't make much sense of them, but others... they were old pictures he'd done himself. Although she did not particularily like the crude man who was her captain, nobody could deny he had talent. Often, she found herself admiring his detailed sketches, depicting some beautiful scenes- and many a beautiful woman!
His lines were thick... bold... and could bring together surrealism and realism all in one. They captured an array of emotions- pain, love, loss... all in one picture and brought to life many lands that Katara dared imagine could even be real. Different plants... different people... worlds of magic- strangeness... Men who ran in the forest with long spears; women who wore necklaces that stretched their necks like giraffes; creatures who crawled and swam and were colossal in comparison to any man...
Finding her way to her favourite collection of sketches, she lifted the black, leather book and began to flick through it.
"Have you drawn anything new, sir?" she asked eagerly, in spite of herself.
Looking up, she saw he was already watching her, his expression unreadable. After a moment's pause, she remembered herself, closed the book and continued working.
"You... like art, do you, Katara?"
"Very much, sir."
"Is that why you come here to tidy so often? To look at my work?"
"I admire it greatly, sir, but I tidy for my own pleasure."
"Pleasure?" he snorted. "What pleasure is there in tidying?!"
"It pleases me, sir," Katara said stiffly, straightening up.
"God, you're sad," he muttered darkly, a glimmer of his grumpy nature showing through his strangely formal exterior of today.
"Very, sir," Katara smiled sweetly, bending over a chest of drawers and beginning to fold the clothes lying beside it.
There was another stony silence as he began fistling with papers on his desk and she continued solemnly with her work, no longer admiring any great works of art that caught her eye.
"Come here, Katara."
It wasn't a request.
Katara got silently to her feet and made her way over to his desk. He had in front of him a plain piece of paper, and a thick pencil. She looked down at them uncertainly.
"Sir...?"
"Do you know how to draw, Katara?" he asked her, back to his strangely civil tone.
"Not really, sir," she said stiffly, acutely aware of the ways his eyes were staring eagerly into her own. A whole array of emotions exploded inside her, her heart beginning to pound a little faster.
Why was he being so nice? Why was he looking at her like that? What... what did he want?
He stood up, pushing his little chair out of the way and beckoning her closer. She stepped towards him uncertainly. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Forcing herself not to flinch away, she let him place the pencil in her hand and slowly, horribly, began to guide her hand across the page...
Although at first wary, all thoughts of the crude captain and his many... desires... immediately left her mind the second she saw the familiar bold pencil line sprout from the object she hold in her hand. In a strange awe, she felt her own mouth open slightly as Captain Guillmore (who was around her side and evidently had a very good view) began to sketch her profile.
It was... strange, feeling the motion of the the pencil in her hand. The captain's hand was larger than hers, and firm and steady. Each careful stroke of the pencil brought a strange light to the picture... Her nose- gosh, it wasn't so delicate as that? Were her cheekbones really so high- her hair so dark; her lashes so long? Her skin... his pencil gave it a rich quality, and in the pencil's light, it shone with a healthy glow...
Katara couldn't help herself from being so surprised. She looked so... pretty in the picture. She knew she was not ugly... but surely... that could not be right? Creative license had evidently carried the Captain away...
The Captain...
All of a sudden, Katara became aware of just how much time had passed. The Captain's hot breath on her cheek made her ill... and how close their two bodies had become- she suddenly felt very sick to have his arm around her as he drew.
Moving suddenly, her head flicked around to catch one of the many glances he'd given her whilst drawing her. His expression had been a mask of concentration, but the second he caught her glance... he winked.
Automatically, Katara moved out of his arms, dropping the pencil as though it had scalded her. The Captain was laughing.
"Good, god, lass!" he laughed. "Your face!"
"I have to go, sir," she muttered moving back across the room and hurrying to the door.
"You haven't finished tidying yet," he grinned nastily.
Katara's eyes widened slightly, suddenly realising just why the Captain thought she spent so much time in his cabin...
"I think I really have to go, sir," she repeated, grabbing the door handle, feeling a sudden shock as she realised her hand was slippy with sweat.
"Sure you don't want to stay?" he laughed (cruelly, or was that her imagination...?) stepping out in front of his desk and beginning to walk towards her. "We could draw some more if you really want... or I'm sure we can find another way to... ah... pass the time."
"Good day, sir," she said primly, stepping outside, and, quite literally, slamming the door in his face.
So much for being the kitchen variety...
