| Subject: Re: Cloak and Dagger |
Author:
Nim
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Date Posted: 23:46:05 05/15/06 Mon
In reply to:
Capt. Jaden Smythe
's message, "Re: Cloak and Dagger" on 11:47:38 05/14/06 Sun
-The conversation continued from there, Nim slowly learning of her mission from that rather eccentric and tight lipped captain. He managed to make himself a marked man with her. Not an easy thing to do as she normally shied away from dealing death and in fact had no intention of doing the deed herself. She would find another for that job, but in the end, she realized deep down that the blood would still be upon her brown hands, literally or not. Yet what other choice had he left her? He threatened the one thing most precious to her: her free will. Two days to perform this job or sharks or worse would have her and the promise of more missions should she survive this one - all under threat of her life. True, she was a hedonist and said life was perhaps more valued to her than it should have been, but hey, everyone had their flaws.
So she left his cabin and went in search of 'Fetch' as he told her to do. Supposedly he had more information about her mark. She was not too impressed with him upon their first meeting, and less so on their second. They had not had time to exchange words on the second, as he was busy getting shot and all. How could such a man so clumsy with his words and wandering eye for messages really be of help to her? Ah well, maybe it was just a poor first impression. Nim smirked at her own sarcasm but the smirk faded when she was above deck again and could feel the gentle rock of the ship by the low waves hitting port. If only pirates did not pay so well, then she'd never be in this mess nor upon this ship to start. She fixed her eyes on the face of the nearest 'sailor' to her and walked carefully towards him, asking the location of the ship's doctor and his newest patient.-
((Am told it is my post so will make some assumptions here))
Several leers, grins, and attempted pinches later she was eventually pointed to the aft section of that large vessel where she was told Fetch was stretched out and being attended to behind some barrels, hopefully out of site of the fearsome Captain. A nip from one of her blades when she swatted his hand prevented a swat on her rump when she left her helpful new friend and left him laughing about her 'stinger' despite the small ribbon of blood across his dirty hand.
She turned the round corner of those stacked barrels and looked down upon the wiggling man and those who attended him.
"Greetings Fetch, was wondering if you would have a moment in between screaming to talk with me? I would be most grateful." She set her hands behind her back and rested upon one leg with a jut of a hip as she waited for some sort of coherent reply.
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