Post by Katara on Sept 12, 2007 9:44:36 GMT -5
Katara's stomach was growling. Again. She hated it whenever she got like this. Whenever she was this hungry, her mouth would water at the slightest whiff of fish from the sea- even if it was rotting. They had food shortages on the ship all the time, and she just couldn't get used to them. Her stomach constantly seemed to be turning and twisting around itself. Could stomachs eat themselves? That's what it felt like. Ah, the betrayal- her own stomach had given up searching for food from the outside world, so had turned on itself. Some system that was. If Phil were here, he'd tell her how stupid she sounded whenever she tried spouting medical mumbo jumbo, but-
He wasn't here. Never mind that now.
She didn't know how long they'd been locked up for... 10, 12 hours? She needed food. She really, really, really needed to pee as well, but that was pretty awkward, because she was surrounded by guys. Most of her fellow crew were hung over now, waking up as though it was about 7.00am in the morning. Fortunately, Captain Guillmore was in a different cell. Katara didn't think she could face him right now.
Tommy sat beside her, dark circles under his eyes as he traced funny symbols across the dusty metal floor. Katara watched him for a few moments, before he sensed her, and caught her eye.
"Disrespectful, I know," he said grudgingly. "But I'm resentful. Gimme' a break."
"What?" she said, quite surprised by his manner.
He frowned at her, and nodded at the symbols. "Letters. Words."
"I can't read," Katara said slowly, feeling a little ashamed as she admitted it. She doubted her illiteracy would ever fail to embarrass her.
"Aah..." Tommy paused delicately for a moment, then cleared his throat." "Basically... it means that our dear Captain's reproductive system should be chewed and spewed up by a goat."
Katara snorted. "Bit harsh, don't you think?"
"We're gonna' hang, Katara," muttered Tommy darkly. "All thanks to tha' mad ol' man."
Death was a strange, foggy foe. Katara did not fear death- given the chance, she would embrace it. She would wrap herself up in its black folds and spend the rest of her existance in silence. She would've... but then what would become of Toph? She couldn't die yet.
But she couldn't escape this fate either.
She didn't even think she'd ever get the chance to hold her boomerang and think of Sokka ever again! There- if she must be tossed into a pit and her corpse burnt with the other sorry lot, she would at least ask the Captain of this ship to burn her boomerang with her too. Pirates could get last requests- or were they truly that low in the pecking order that they didn't deserve that final act on their behalf?
But this Captain Truesdale... Katara knew she was the enemy- the one responsible for tossing them in these god-forsaken cells but... she knew she could trust her. Wasn't that weird?
"Perhaps the cell is lowering your spirits..." murmured Katara.
It was certainly lowering hers. She couldn't tell exact measurements, but the cell was small, and bare metal, although the amount of dust suggested it hadn't been washed in a while. She was crammed in with about 10 other pirates; most of them snoring and snivelling loudly. She'd already had to witness three of them going to the toilet above the little bucket they'd been provided with, and the stench was getting a little overwhelming. Problem was, they were on a ship. As the ship rocked back and forwards, the bucket balanced precariously at best. Lyle had suggested half-heartedly that someone hold it, but nobody seemed to want to touch it.
Tommy snorted. "You could say that. I just hope the ol' man hangs first."
"Don't talk like that, Tommy..." Katara murmured, her stomach giving a particularly painful twist.
"Don't you?!" Tommy said savagely, banging down on the metal with his fist in a sudden burst of anger. "I've seen the way he leers at you- and we all know what was coming next! Would you rather he raped you, or hung?"
"Shut it, Tommy," said Lyle warningly from a dark corner of the cell. "Leave the lass alone. She doesn't need this now. She's got the worst deal too- she wasn't even drunk."
"Yeah," muttered Conan, breaking his silence for once. "Yeah... thanks Katara."
She jumped. "For what?!"
"For trying to save us from the demon drink," he replied, with a twisted smile. "You very nearly saved us from the noose."
Katara returned his smile, but she found herself a little flustered by him speaking to her. She doubted she'd ever even heard him use his voice before. The other pirates ignored this rare phenomenon, but it got Katara thinking. How much about the other members of the crew did she know anyway? Didn't she make enough of an effort? And why not? If she was going to die now...
If she was going to die, she'd never see any of them again. That was the penalty of the everlasting silence.
Hmmph. Guess that's why it's so ruddy silent.
There was a general murmuring of assent at this, and Katara blushed a little. "Thanks, guys," she sighed. "Appreciate it."
"Reckon we'll get food soon?" Conan asked her. Apparently, this whole 'death' thing had inspired him to make an effort too.
"A last meal?" snorted Tommy, butting in. "Doubt it. These Navy blokes are harsh."
"Their Captain don't seem too bad," said Lyle fairly.
Tommy snorted. "So she's a woman. She's soft."
Katara coughed loudly, and Tommy flushed. There was a general cry of laughter at that.
"Best watch what choo' say in present company," winked Russ, stretching as he pulled himself up off the cold metal floor. "Reckon she could really punch if she put her mind to it."
"Reckon so?" grinned Mike. "I know so. 'Member that black eye I got last time I was drunk?"
"Is this a confession?" laughed Lyle.
"Sorry about that, Mike," Katara grinned weakly.
"Never mind that!" laughed Conan. "You should see me' Ma give a swing. When I was real wee- "
BANG!
The whole crew fell silent as a Navy officer threw open their cell door, pushing a cheap trolley of trays. In each was crammed about three bowls, filled with a thick, sloppy soup-like substance. That didn't mean...?
"Dirty pirates," the man muttered in distaste, glaring around at them all. "The stench of you lot! You all need a good clean- "
His eyes swept over them all, resting just a fraction of a second longer on Katara before turning to the trays.
"Dinner," he said shortly, passing the bowls out between them. "Enjoy your food while you can."
And as the door slammed, the silence he left in his wake was far more sickening than their meal.
He wasn't here. Never mind that now.
She didn't know how long they'd been locked up for... 10, 12 hours? She needed food. She really, really, really needed to pee as well, but that was pretty awkward, because she was surrounded by guys. Most of her fellow crew were hung over now, waking up as though it was about 7.00am in the morning. Fortunately, Captain Guillmore was in a different cell. Katara didn't think she could face him right now.
Tommy sat beside her, dark circles under his eyes as he traced funny symbols across the dusty metal floor. Katara watched him for a few moments, before he sensed her, and caught her eye.
"Disrespectful, I know," he said grudgingly. "But I'm resentful. Gimme' a break."
"What?" she said, quite surprised by his manner.
He frowned at her, and nodded at the symbols. "Letters. Words."
"I can't read," Katara said slowly, feeling a little ashamed as she admitted it. She doubted her illiteracy would ever fail to embarrass her.
"Aah..." Tommy paused delicately for a moment, then cleared his throat." "Basically... it means that our dear Captain's reproductive system should be chewed and spewed up by a goat."
Katara snorted. "Bit harsh, don't you think?"
"We're gonna' hang, Katara," muttered Tommy darkly. "All thanks to tha' mad ol' man."
Death was a strange, foggy foe. Katara did not fear death- given the chance, she would embrace it. She would wrap herself up in its black folds and spend the rest of her existance in silence. She would've... but then what would become of Toph? She couldn't die yet.
But she couldn't escape this fate either.
She didn't even think she'd ever get the chance to hold her boomerang and think of Sokka ever again! There- if she must be tossed into a pit and her corpse burnt with the other sorry lot, she would at least ask the Captain of this ship to burn her boomerang with her too. Pirates could get last requests- or were they truly that low in the pecking order that they didn't deserve that final act on their behalf?
But this Captain Truesdale... Katara knew she was the enemy- the one responsible for tossing them in these god-forsaken cells but... she knew she could trust her. Wasn't that weird?
"Perhaps the cell is lowering your spirits..." murmured Katara.
It was certainly lowering hers. She couldn't tell exact measurements, but the cell was small, and bare metal, although the amount of dust suggested it hadn't been washed in a while. She was crammed in with about 10 other pirates; most of them snoring and snivelling loudly. She'd already had to witness three of them going to the toilet above the little bucket they'd been provided with, and the stench was getting a little overwhelming. Problem was, they were on a ship. As the ship rocked back and forwards, the bucket balanced precariously at best. Lyle had suggested half-heartedly that someone hold it, but nobody seemed to want to touch it.
Tommy snorted. "You could say that. I just hope the ol' man hangs first."
"Don't talk like that, Tommy..." Katara murmured, her stomach giving a particularly painful twist.
"Don't you?!" Tommy said savagely, banging down on the metal with his fist in a sudden burst of anger. "I've seen the way he leers at you- and we all know what was coming next! Would you rather he raped you, or hung?"
"Shut it, Tommy," said Lyle warningly from a dark corner of the cell. "Leave the lass alone. She doesn't need this now. She's got the worst deal too- she wasn't even drunk."
"Yeah," muttered Conan, breaking his silence for once. "Yeah... thanks Katara."
She jumped. "For what?!"
"For trying to save us from the demon drink," he replied, with a twisted smile. "You very nearly saved us from the noose."
Katara returned his smile, but she found herself a little flustered by him speaking to her. She doubted she'd ever even heard him use his voice before. The other pirates ignored this rare phenomenon, but it got Katara thinking. How much about the other members of the crew did she know anyway? Didn't she make enough of an effort? And why not? If she was going to die now...
If she was going to die, she'd never see any of them again. That was the penalty of the everlasting silence.
Hmmph. Guess that's why it's so ruddy silent.
There was a general murmuring of assent at this, and Katara blushed a little. "Thanks, guys," she sighed. "Appreciate it."
"Reckon we'll get food soon?" Conan asked her. Apparently, this whole 'death' thing had inspired him to make an effort too.
"A last meal?" snorted Tommy, butting in. "Doubt it. These Navy blokes are harsh."
"Their Captain don't seem too bad," said Lyle fairly.
Tommy snorted. "So she's a woman. She's soft."
Katara coughed loudly, and Tommy flushed. There was a general cry of laughter at that.
"Best watch what choo' say in present company," winked Russ, stretching as he pulled himself up off the cold metal floor. "Reckon she could really punch if she put her mind to it."
"Reckon so?" grinned Mike. "I know so. 'Member that black eye I got last time I was drunk?"
"Is this a confession?" laughed Lyle.
"Sorry about that, Mike," Katara grinned weakly.
"Never mind that!" laughed Conan. "You should see me' Ma give a swing. When I was real wee- "
BANG!
The whole crew fell silent as a Navy officer threw open their cell door, pushing a cheap trolley of trays. In each was crammed about three bowls, filled with a thick, sloppy soup-like substance. That didn't mean...?
"Dirty pirates," the man muttered in distaste, glaring around at them all. "The stench of you lot! You all need a good clean- "
His eyes swept over them all, resting just a fraction of a second longer on Katara before turning to the trays.
"Dinner," he said shortly, passing the bowls out between them. "Enjoy your food while you can."
And as the door slammed, the silence he left in his wake was far more sickening than their meal.
