(no subject)
Jan. 10th, 2010 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
an_evening_starHer hands had been first, secured once more behind her back, and she had tilted her chin and remained still as they tugged the manacles ("Getting all fancy, are we?") tight.
Then it had been the hood, drawn down over her eyes ("And miss this lovely view?") and she had only laughed at the further suggestion to muzzle her ("Now that is hardly original. I'm genuinely growing disappointed with this entire fiasco.") stalling and generally being something of an irritating nuisance in the best way she knew how.
Keeping their attention - however violent and disapproving that attention might be - on her meant an easier time for Tristran. (She hoped.) And it was not as though they could do any great amount of damage to her if they wanted any real hopes of selling her off to the highest bidder.
She is standing still, voice a low-level hum of continued sarcastic commentary, when the ship jostles - crashes and shakes with the impact of landing, of docking.
She can't quite decide whether or not this is encouraging progress.
Then it had been the hood, drawn down over her eyes ("And miss this lovely view?") and she had only laughed at the further suggestion to muzzle her ("Now that is hardly original. I'm genuinely growing disappointed with this entire fiasco.") stalling and generally being something of an irritating nuisance in the best way she knew how.
Keeping their attention - however violent and disapproving that attention might be - on her meant an easier time for Tristran. (She hoped.) And it was not as though they could do any great amount of damage to her if they wanted any real hopes of selling her off to the highest bidder.
She is standing still, voice a low-level hum of continued sarcastic commentary, when the ship jostles - crashes and shakes with the impact of landing, of docking.
She can't quite decide whether or not this is encouraging progress.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-21 02:40 pm (UTC)'Men', of course, is used in the loosest form possible.
He hates the Vultures.
They're precisely every reason he hates the goddamn creatures, from their crooked wings and beaks, to their sly, shifty glances. Their voices are filled with lies and manipulation (though they could never get past him), and they ooze with distrust and dishonesty.
He hates 'em.
But ... a deal is a deal, and one cannot be choosy about whom to sell lightning to these days. The markets aren't what they used to be.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-21 02:44 pm (UTC)Alberic looks yonder. He nods.
"All right. We got the lightning ready?"
"At your call, sir."
Alberic nods again.
"And somethin' else, sir."
"What is it?"
"They've got a slave girl with'em."
"A slave girl?"
"Aye, capt'n." The pirate - Jackman - starts to grin a black-toothed, slightly lopsided grin. "An' I think you'll find she's ... quite valuable."