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rainbowfic2013-08-23 05:26 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-23 05:26 pm
Caput Mortuum #4, Feldgrau #13
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Support of Family
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Caput Mortuum #4. Livor mortis, Feldgrau #13. wound
Supplies and Materials: mosaic (Pirates of the Carribean), eraser, brush (vapor), watercolors, oils, fabric, pastels (my current gen + romance card I4 "lost and found"), glitter
Word Count: 1505
Rating: R
Characters: Taz, Dallu, Kes, Barbossa
Warnings: Piracy, references to murder, references to sex, amputation and 18th-century medical treatment for it, moderately graphic description of cautery.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. So, I watched On Stranger Tides with my housemates last night and this happened :D Minor spoilers for the movie contained in here.
Taz lay, sleepy and content, across Dallu’s chest. Their latest run had been deliriously successful. They were headed back to her usual base to divvy up the spoils fair and proper, then to Tortuga or one of the other trading islands to spend it, and replace whoever in her crew didn’t come back to the Morning Glory. Most of ‘em would. They usually did.
Kes was with her now, to their mutual delight. She’d found ‘em on an island off New Orleans six months back, full of news of their mamma and baby sister, who was all kinds of successful, according to Kes. She was now the closest thing the Glory had to a medic, plus the usual jobs, which made Taz doubly glad to keep her.
One benefit to an immortal crew, she found she missed, was you didn’t have to worry about losing comrades to storms or cannons. Kes couldn’t keep all of ‘em alive, no, but their death rate was a damn sight lower than other captains she knew.
Yes, everything was right in her world. Beckett and his ilk wouldn’t bother them no more, her ship and her crew were prosperous, her sister and her lover were with her…life was good.
She was starting to think about shifting and coaxing Dallu up for another round of lovemaking when she heard the fuss on deck.
So much for a relaxin’ evening, she thought, and collected her coat and boots from where she’d tossed them.
“What be the trouble, boys?” she asked, once she was safe out on deck.
Rivers, a quiet sort who was the best damned shot on her crew, answered. “McGee spotted someone in the water.”
“We gettin’ him on board?”
“Aye.”
Taz nodded. “Good. Find out who he is, see if we can’t get some profit out o’ him, one way or the other.”
“There’s a lot of blood, McGee said,” Rivers warned. “Kes’n him are on it.”
Taz shrugged. “If he’s dead, we’ll toss him back. Still—”
“Taz!”
She turned—if someone were using her name to shout, not calling for the Captain, that meant serious, and personal. The fact that it was Kes calling only cemented that.
She turned on her heel and went down to where Kes and McGee were hauling—
“God’s blood,” she yelped. Her father, they’d found her father, drifting alone on wreckage and covered in blood and missing half his right leg.
“He’s still breathin’,” Kes assured her.
“Can you keep him that way?” Taz had laid him to rest once before and damned if she was going to do it again.
“I can try,” was all her sister said.
“My cabin,” Taz said. “Now.”
No one argued. Most knew bits and pieces of her story—that she’d sailed under Hector Barbossa’s command for ten years while he were a demon. Most didn’t know she was his own flesh, but the kind of bonds forged in ten years of mutual undeath ain’t easily ignored. Her boys respected that.
Taz stalked back to her cabin and hauled Dallu out.
“What’s happened?” he asked, gathering immediately that it was serious.
“My father,” she said. He knew, as well as Kes and one or two others. “He’s hurt, bad.”
“Something happened to the Pearl?”
“Must have done, or he’d be there, wouldn’t he,” Taz snapped. “Go away, Kes and McGee are bringin’ him here now.”
Dallu bowed his head silently in assent and slipped out, holding the door open for the others as they came in.
It was McGee and Rivers, not Kes.
“Where’d she go?” Taz asked.
“To get her iron,” McGee answered.
Right. Iron. Had to stop the bleeding, didn’t they. Taz swore under her breath. “You’ll need to stay. I can’t hold him down by meself.”
Kes joined them before the boys could answer, her iron already red and smoking. “You sure you wanna be in here for this?”
By way of answering, Taz positioned herself at her father’s head. “One on each side, boys,” she said, grimly.
She’d done this when called for once or twice before, so she wasn’t surprised—just grim and, though she’d never admit it aloud, very frightened—by the acrid stench of it, or when he jerked and cried out but didn’t wake.
That done, Kes wrapped the new end to his leg in a clean bit of spare sailcloth. “I got better supplies at our cache, if need be,” she said softly.
Taz just nodded, then stepped outside.
“We keep on as planned, boys,” she called. “Back to work.”
They did as she said—they were a good crew—and she went back into her cabin without looking for Dallu. Nothing more they could do now, except wait.
More than anything, Taz hated waiting.
So she went back out on deck, doing her best not to snap at everyone, or check back more than once every hour or so.
By morning, he was burning.
For half a moment, she almost wished they could go back to the damned island and she could make him take a coin—easy enough to fix when he was healed, after all, if it was just him what took it.
…except the damn monkey had, so even if it were accessible, it wouldn’t work.
Damn it all.
There was no more change by the time they reached her base island midafternoon. She left Kes with him and set about overseeing the division of spoils. Not that she thought any of her boys would cheat each other or her, but it was something to keep her occupied.
Kes approached her when it was done.
“I can stay here with him,” she said. “Keep an eye on him. Not much to interest me in Tortuga anyway.”
Taz hugged her close. “We’ll be back in three days. I love you.”
“I can’t promise he’ll be alive when you get back,” Kes warned, “but I’ll do what I can.”
Taz nodded. “He died before, and it didn’t take,” she said, with more bravado than she actually felt. “I’ll see you in three days. Both of you.”
Kes smiled slightly. “Three days, then.”
“Three days.”
On the way to Tortuga, Taz made sure to apologize to Dallu—he’d been moping since she’d kicked him out, and she had been rude and of course none of it had aught to do with him.
The visit to Tortuga passed without incident, and Taz pushed hard to get back to where her father and Kes had been left as fast as they could.
“He woke for a bit yesterday,” Kes informed her as soon as she hit the beach, “but he didn’t seem to recognize much of anythin’.”
“Still. He woke up.”
“And he’s less of a fever.”
“So he’ll live?”
“Seems likely.”
Taz embraced her sister again and slipped over to the lean-to where he’d been left, to wait for him to wake again.
To her gratification, it didn’t take long.
“Taz?”
“Aye,” she said. “You’re lucky I was close.”
He nodded, and half sat up. She helped, when he needed it, but mostly stayed back. She didn’t ask what happened—his business, whether he wanted her to know or not.
“I lost Jack,” he said, after a moment.
“It was only you we found,” she said. “Whatever you need, you know I back you, yeah?”
He gave her a shadowy, crooked smile. “Get me to Tortuga then.”
“Plans?”
“Shapin’ ‘em.”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to Kes. She’s my sister, she’s been lookin’ after you.”
He blinked.
“Not yours,” she said. “She’s younger’n me.”
“Aha.”
Kes did not at all approve of this. “He probably shouldn’t be off on his own.”
Taz shrugged. “He’s a big lad. He can take care of himself, last few days notwithstandin’. And I think if we don’t help him, he’ll go off by himself anyhow.”
Kes arched an eyebrow.
“He wants blood, for whoever hurt him, and whatever happened to the Pearl.” Taz sighed. “Long as he finds that bastard, whoever he be, before Sparrow finds him, he’ll be all right. He’s a clever sort.”
Kes shrugged. “He ain’t of our crew, and he’s your pa, not mine. You know him better’n me. Just sayin’, his fever’s barely broke. He’s like to get himself killed before he can—”
Taz shook her head. “Not before he kills whoever he lost against this time. Trust me.”
Kes shrugged again. “As you like, Captain.”
Taz sighed inwardly. Kes did have a point—maybe she could stall a few days, give her father a little more time to recover, before she did what he’d asked. She’d do what she could, in any case.
He’d lived for now, that was the important part. She ran her fingers against a bloodstain on her shirt, from when they’d fished him out. He’d lived. And, like most things, best to take the next bit one step at a time.
Whatever he wanted, Taz knew he knew she’d always have his back. All he had to do was ask.
Story: Support of Family
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Caput Mortuum #4. Livor mortis, Feldgrau #13. wound
Supplies and Materials: mosaic (Pirates of the Carribean), eraser, brush (vapor), watercolors, oils, fabric, pastels (my current gen + romance card I4 "lost and found"), glitter
Word Count: 1505
Rating: R
Characters: Taz, Dallu, Kes, Barbossa
Warnings: Piracy, references to murder, references to sex, amputation and 18th-century medical treatment for it, moderately graphic description of cautery.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. So, I watched On Stranger Tides with my housemates last night and this happened :D Minor spoilers for the movie contained in here.
Taz lay, sleepy and content, across Dallu’s chest. Their latest run had been deliriously successful. They were headed back to her usual base to divvy up the spoils fair and proper, then to Tortuga or one of the other trading islands to spend it, and replace whoever in her crew didn’t come back to the Morning Glory. Most of ‘em would. They usually did.
Kes was with her now, to their mutual delight. She’d found ‘em on an island off New Orleans six months back, full of news of their mamma and baby sister, who was all kinds of successful, according to Kes. She was now the closest thing the Glory had to a medic, plus the usual jobs, which made Taz doubly glad to keep her.
One benefit to an immortal crew, she found she missed, was you didn’t have to worry about losing comrades to storms or cannons. Kes couldn’t keep all of ‘em alive, no, but their death rate was a damn sight lower than other captains she knew.
Yes, everything was right in her world. Beckett and his ilk wouldn’t bother them no more, her ship and her crew were prosperous, her sister and her lover were with her…life was good.
She was starting to think about shifting and coaxing Dallu up for another round of lovemaking when she heard the fuss on deck.
So much for a relaxin’ evening, she thought, and collected her coat and boots from where she’d tossed them.
“What be the trouble, boys?” she asked, once she was safe out on deck.
Rivers, a quiet sort who was the best damned shot on her crew, answered. “McGee spotted someone in the water.”
“We gettin’ him on board?”
“Aye.”
Taz nodded. “Good. Find out who he is, see if we can’t get some profit out o’ him, one way or the other.”
“There’s a lot of blood, McGee said,” Rivers warned. “Kes’n him are on it.”
Taz shrugged. “If he’s dead, we’ll toss him back. Still—”
“Taz!”
She turned—if someone were using her name to shout, not calling for the Captain, that meant serious, and personal. The fact that it was Kes calling only cemented that.
She turned on her heel and went down to where Kes and McGee were hauling—
“God’s blood,” she yelped. Her father, they’d found her father, drifting alone on wreckage and covered in blood and missing half his right leg.
“He’s still breathin’,” Kes assured her.
“Can you keep him that way?” Taz had laid him to rest once before and damned if she was going to do it again.
“I can try,” was all her sister said.
“My cabin,” Taz said. “Now.”
No one argued. Most knew bits and pieces of her story—that she’d sailed under Hector Barbossa’s command for ten years while he were a demon. Most didn’t know she was his own flesh, but the kind of bonds forged in ten years of mutual undeath ain’t easily ignored. Her boys respected that.
Taz stalked back to her cabin and hauled Dallu out.
“What’s happened?” he asked, gathering immediately that it was serious.
“My father,” she said. He knew, as well as Kes and one or two others. “He’s hurt, bad.”
“Something happened to the Pearl?”
“Must have done, or he’d be there, wouldn’t he,” Taz snapped. “Go away, Kes and McGee are bringin’ him here now.”
Dallu bowed his head silently in assent and slipped out, holding the door open for the others as they came in.
It was McGee and Rivers, not Kes.
“Where’d she go?” Taz asked.
“To get her iron,” McGee answered.
Right. Iron. Had to stop the bleeding, didn’t they. Taz swore under her breath. “You’ll need to stay. I can’t hold him down by meself.”
Kes joined them before the boys could answer, her iron already red and smoking. “You sure you wanna be in here for this?”
By way of answering, Taz positioned herself at her father’s head. “One on each side, boys,” she said, grimly.
She’d done this when called for once or twice before, so she wasn’t surprised—just grim and, though she’d never admit it aloud, very frightened—by the acrid stench of it, or when he jerked and cried out but didn’t wake.
That done, Kes wrapped the new end to his leg in a clean bit of spare sailcloth. “I got better supplies at our cache, if need be,” she said softly.
Taz just nodded, then stepped outside.
“We keep on as planned, boys,” she called. “Back to work.”
They did as she said—they were a good crew—and she went back into her cabin without looking for Dallu. Nothing more they could do now, except wait.
More than anything, Taz hated waiting.
So she went back out on deck, doing her best not to snap at everyone, or check back more than once every hour or so.
By morning, he was burning.
For half a moment, she almost wished they could go back to the damned island and she could make him take a coin—easy enough to fix when he was healed, after all, if it was just him what took it.
…except the damn monkey had, so even if it were accessible, it wouldn’t work.
Damn it all.
There was no more change by the time they reached her base island midafternoon. She left Kes with him and set about overseeing the division of spoils. Not that she thought any of her boys would cheat each other or her, but it was something to keep her occupied.
Kes approached her when it was done.
“I can stay here with him,” she said. “Keep an eye on him. Not much to interest me in Tortuga anyway.”
Taz hugged her close. “We’ll be back in three days. I love you.”
“I can’t promise he’ll be alive when you get back,” Kes warned, “but I’ll do what I can.”
Taz nodded. “He died before, and it didn’t take,” she said, with more bravado than she actually felt. “I’ll see you in three days. Both of you.”
Kes smiled slightly. “Three days, then.”
“Three days.”
On the way to Tortuga, Taz made sure to apologize to Dallu—he’d been moping since she’d kicked him out, and she had been rude and of course none of it had aught to do with him.
The visit to Tortuga passed without incident, and Taz pushed hard to get back to where her father and Kes had been left as fast as they could.
“He woke for a bit yesterday,” Kes informed her as soon as she hit the beach, “but he didn’t seem to recognize much of anythin’.”
“Still. He woke up.”
“And he’s less of a fever.”
“So he’ll live?”
“Seems likely.”
Taz embraced her sister again and slipped over to the lean-to where he’d been left, to wait for him to wake again.
To her gratification, it didn’t take long.
“Taz?”
“Aye,” she said. “You’re lucky I was close.”
He nodded, and half sat up. She helped, when he needed it, but mostly stayed back. She didn’t ask what happened—his business, whether he wanted her to know or not.
“I lost Jack,” he said, after a moment.
“It was only you we found,” she said. “Whatever you need, you know I back you, yeah?”
He gave her a shadowy, crooked smile. “Get me to Tortuga then.”
“Plans?”
“Shapin’ ‘em.”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to Kes. She’s my sister, she’s been lookin’ after you.”
He blinked.
“Not yours,” she said. “She’s younger’n me.”
“Aha.”
Kes did not at all approve of this. “He probably shouldn’t be off on his own.”
Taz shrugged. “He’s a big lad. He can take care of himself, last few days notwithstandin’. And I think if we don’t help him, he’ll go off by himself anyhow.”
Kes arched an eyebrow.
“He wants blood, for whoever hurt him, and whatever happened to the Pearl.” Taz sighed. “Long as he finds that bastard, whoever he be, before Sparrow finds him, he’ll be all right. He’s a clever sort.”
Kes shrugged. “He ain’t of our crew, and he’s your pa, not mine. You know him better’n me. Just sayin’, his fever’s barely broke. He’s like to get himself killed before he can—”
Taz shook her head. “Not before he kills whoever he lost against this time. Trust me.”
Kes shrugged again. “As you like, Captain.”
Taz sighed inwardly. Kes did have a point—maybe she could stall a few days, give her father a little more time to recover, before she did what he’d asked. She’d do what she could, in any case.
He’d lived for now, that was the important part. She ran her fingers against a bloodstain on her shirt, from when they’d fished him out. He’d lived. And, like most things, best to take the next bit one step at a time.
Whatever he wanted, Taz knew he knew she’d always have his back. All he had to do was ask.
no subject
This actually explains a hole in the movie. Well done.
no subject
Maybe I'll write that next, IDK.
Yeah, I started thinking about it after the movie, because...at least the way he told the story (and I have no reason to believe he's lying) there's no way he would have survived without someone very friendly very close. So, Taz found him.