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She snorted and chugged the rest of her rum, then discarded her bottle onto a random crewmember passing by. "Trust me," she said as she sat up, looking down at the wrestling match, which was coming to a close, "I'm the most savage of them all. Don't let my pretty words fool you." And with that, she hopped down and challenged the biggest fighter to a match. He greedily accepted.
Anto sat back with an interested look, leaning forward in his seat to watch.
Little did the rest of the crew know, a small paddle boat was approaching them the aft, jammed with as many men as they could possibly fit on it. All were armed to the teeth. All were thirsting for blood.
(The whole reason why he acts so weird is that Anto is a runaway prince, btw)
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((ah, makes sense. Sorry I haven't been responding, I'm just worn out from today and tired. I'll be hitting the hay pretty soon))
(It's fine)
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((labeling me as the mom friend was a mistake my dude. I make my mom friends worry on a daily. But I still stand by my tea statement))
Fane cracked her knuckles and shook out her hands, then bounced from foot to foot, never quite able to sit still for more than a millisecond. Her smirk was firm and set, an air of cocky confidence surrounding her. Her opponent, on the other hand, got into position and waited for the countdown with stony silence. Too easy, he seemed to be thinking, the size difference surely puts the ball in his court.
(I will still not sleep)
The only two coherent enough to have a chance of noticing the men scrambling over the rails of the ship were Fane and Anto. The glint of sunlight off of polished steel caught his eye and a quick glance showed 3 or 4 men creeping up the railing.
"We are being boarded!" he shouted, jumping from the barrel he was siting on despite the pain. The boarders took notice of the short, scrawny-looking man and decided that Anto would be their first target. How wrong they were for it.
The first man to get in within arm's reach shouted with aggression and swung a lazy overhead chop that Anto saw from a mile away. It was easily sidestepped, and the man was shoved over the edge of the ship and into the water. Even injured, his fighting style was graceful and agile. He was as elusive as a fly and as precise as a cat, each blow calculated and accurate. Within seconds, the other three lay dazed and confused at his bandaged feet without him ever using a blade.
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((And I'll no longer tell you to. I do the same. So, in doing so, I'm being a hypocrite, and we can't have that))
Fane whipped around the moment Anto shouted, then darted off to grab her axes. She didn't know how many there were, or if Anto—who had just knocked down four men—had gotten them all, but she'd rather be safe than dead. She shoved a crate to the side and pulled up the false board in the deck, reaching down to grab the small but vicious double-sided axes she wielded and protected so fiercely.
Within moments, she was at Anto's side, both hands armed with the weapons and face set in a hard line of quiet ferocity. Her entire being was coiled up and ready to strike, like that of a king cobra. Dark eyes scanned the ship for more enemy boardings.
"They stuck up on us," he said, ignoring the blood beginning to seep through his bandages. At least 3 stitches had popped open. Probably more.
"We need to get whoever is coherent enough raised and armed," he said to her as 3 more figures crawled over the railings.
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"Stay here," she ordered, the voice of the first mate, then charged the oncoming enemies. Her axes spun in her hands as she came to a sliding stop, slicing through the neck of the first person she came in contact with. Her elbow soon followed, slamming them back into the ocean as a choaked shout sputtered through their bubbling red lips.
She dropped to her knees as she felt more than heard another one swing at her. She wasted no time in striking from below, both axes singing as they bit into the man's thighs, the edges of the blades slicing through flesh and fabric without snag. The third one was struck up the front as she turned on her heel and stood up, the other axe coming from the side to bury itself into the man's neck. With a hand yank, the body was freed of the weapons and fell to the deck with a slightly wet thump, Kane taking a step back to avoid the falling corpse.
A loud scream jolted his attention from the ferocity of Fane's fighting (They're dead opposites, it's great). The second mate, Mumchance, had a sword sticking from his gut, its owner a huge man, easily doubling Anto's size. He ran as fast as his busted legs would carry him and leaped into the air, clinging to the bag of the man like a monkey. The man thrashed around as Anto snaked one arm around his neck, applying as much pressure as his legs clamped around the man's waist. The man struggled against the vise hold his neck was in, but after a few more moments his body went limp and fell backwards, crushing Anto beneath him.
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((hey, you have insta or somthin? why am i even asking I dunno, just thought it'd be cool to just chat outside of Notebook, like Crocs and I as I answer my own question))
"You fucking kreten," she muttered as she flicked the blood off her axes and jogged over to Anto. "Didn't I just tell you to stay put?" she growled as she dropped to her knees and worked to shove the man off of the newbie. "This is the complete opposite of staying put."
(I have no social media. I sty away from it like it's a disease)
"Well, figured I should try to help," he grunted, crawling out from under the man when enough of the body weight was off of him. He had trouble catching his breath and there was a pain in his chest every time he inhaled.
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((lmao, alright. I have fb and insta, but barely ever really use it much. Insta is more for posting my art—when I remember—and fb for chatting and occasionally memes))
"You, go to a medic," she ordered, then seemed to change her mind the minute the words left her mouth. "You know what? I'm just going to take you there myself because the seven seas know you won't listen if I go off and leave you alone."
"You know me so well," he grumbled, wrapping a hand around his waist as he stood up and wincing.
(;-;)
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(that is actually slightly trippy/disturbing)
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"You should learn to listen to your higher-ups," she grumbled as she stood and wrapped an arm around him, guiding him belowdecks to the 'clinic' they had on the ship. Now there were more crew members jumping into action while Fane worked to get Anto belowdecks.
(I laughed so hard)
He shamelessly leaned almost all of his weight against her, his legs buckling under him as he walked.
"Maybe I should have stayed in place," he mumbled.
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"Maybe," she agreed. She could feel him leaning so heavily against her, but she made no complaint or sound regarding the weight.
Crewmembers darted past them, and the distant sound of fighting told her that there were more attackers, but on a different end of the ship. She paid it no mind, trusting her crew, and ducked down the stairs heading below deck.
"I'm surprised they are sober enough to fight," he commented as the crew rushed past. "Just a second ago they were drop-dead drunk."
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"They still are, but even drunks know how to swing a sword or fist. You'd be surprised how effective a drunk is at annoying a sober opponent to the point where even they get too frustrated to think or fight properly." She reached over and lit a lamp, then led Anto to the room fashioned to be a clinic of sorts.
"Fuck," he grumbled as he was laid down on a table that was turning to a bed by a white sheet. "I think I broke a rib."
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"Doctor," Fane ordered, pointing at Anto and stepping back. The small female scurried over without a word spoken, only a nod and some prodding done to see the extensiveness of Anto's wounds. She tilted her head and looked up at his face as she poked and lightly pressed at his side.
"Ow!" he shouted, jerking away by instinct. "You could have just asked!"
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The female didn't respond, only pulled her blonde hair away from her face into a loose bun, then tugged up his shirt to get a visual on the external injuries. Fane watched silently as well, leaning against the farthest wall with her arms and ankles crossed; a small frown tugged the corners of her lips downwards.
