#knock on wood. ya kno. just in case

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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[phenomenal1500]

The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails

Chapter 63: The Ludicrous Plan

For Chapter 62: The Deciding Destination click here.

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"No. Perhaps. God, what I meant was.... there is always a plan b, somewhere, so don't worry, we'll find a way if this won't work."

"Naida, I appreciate your optimism, but I think the bottom line is that we are already carrying out plan Z. This is it. This is where the world decides if Nassau will be free and handed to us or if it will die at the hands of Woodes Rogers."

~~~

Hopeful, but yet freezing, Jack and I roamed back to the docks and I took Charles' hand which he had offered to me to get me back on the ship before Jack.

Charles had waited outside the whole time until his dearest friend and I made our return and I detected it because of his blue colored lips and the warmth his hand had lost. Max stood alongside Charles and didn't even give us a minute to rest or warm up before firing questions our way.

"What happened with Mr. Guthrie?" She interrogated us with her thick French accent, though, my brains had stopped working and the comfort I felt rushing over me when Charles' hands made their way underneath my shirt and, with time, regained their warmth on my bare stomach made me not even care about answering her anymore. "Were you able to speak with him?"

"Mm-hmm." Jack was only able to hum owing to the fact that his lips were no longer capable of forming words.

"What did he say?"

"He told me to go fuck myself." Charles snuggled his face into the crook of my neck, leaving small, gentle kisses before trailing up to kiss me on my lips.

"Well, that does not sound good." Max struggled to find her words and Jack finally turned around, putting a hold on his cold staggering.

"The business isn't his." He confirmed and sat down onto an old barrel who could snap any moment if it wasn't this frozen. "Well, the horses are his, the cart is his, but it appears the wife is the one holding the reins." Jack sniffed because of a starting cold.

"Eleanor's grandmother?"

"And she is interested." Charles suddenly looked up. He didn't stop cherishing me, nor did he stop planting kisses on my hair and shoulders, but he did pay full attention to the chat that was in progress in front of us and furrowed his eyebrows as I could feel his chest pressing up against my back. A sign of him feeling confident. "She invited me to return this evening to provide details of our proposal. Prove that we can be trusted to manage Nassau in the event of Rogers' removal. And I think you should come with me." Jack rested his gaze on Max and Featherstone joined us too, shaking his head slowly towards Jack, hoping only Jack had seen him.

"You do?" Max inhaled for a moment. "Why?"

"Because our plan is ludicrous by any sane measure and my suspicion is if she's going to say yes, it's going to be for emotional reasons rather than financial ones. She would look across the table and see a woman with some experience quietly wielding power over men without them knowing it, and a woman who might remind her of herself. It might go a long way towards winning her."

"What about Naida? Perhaps she is a better option for our ludicrous plan." Max declared, trying to show some generosity even though she actually wanted this badly. She wanted to prove her worth again and she was given that chance.... whatever reason Jack had for giving her that opportunity so I didn't know why she declined it.

"Naida, first of all, is still expecting and I can understand if she and Charles want to spend some time together. Second of all.... She is a known pirate. If that bounty still rests on her head and when she has to introduce herself and her name echoes through the streets, Mrs. Guthrie won't see Naida as a rich madame who is anything like Mrs. Guthrie herself." Jack pointed out as he talked with weird hand gestures and it made me smile.

Jack always had been a little uncoordinated and awkward even though he was one of the smartest and persuasive people I knew in this world and those little habits made him him.

It was also pretty funny and interesting to witness.

"Finally." I could hear the sound of his deep voice bounce through my ears. "Finally.... some time with my woman." I chuckled as he pleasantly bit on my bare neck, leaving a small mark and Charles exhaled deeply, his hot breath brushing over my soft skin.

Of course Featherstone had to survey the intimate moment and I smiled awkwardly. Always when Charles and I did something intimate in public, which wasn't that common, he was the one to notice it first and he was the one to gaze at us in revolt.

"Mind to continue these activities somewhere more private?" I requested and I could feel his hands move, going from my stomach to my hips to let them rest there.

"Of course not, little one." It was unbelievably clear to me that Charles had some sort of 'gentle' lust in his eyes when I had shared a look with him and slowly everyone had already spread out to follow their own paths. Jack and Max had to leave to get ready for tonight's appointment, Featherstone had to instruct a few more men on deck who had done something wrong and Charles and I made our way to a rented room under Rackham's name. The property was not far from the harbor where we were anchored and we could arrive unseen.

It didn't take long before we checked in and I locked the door behind us.

Turning myself around so I could examine the room, I was secretly expecting Charles to push me against the wall.

Strangely, that wasn't the case because when I rotated myself, he sat on the edge of the large fur bed and stared at the large picture hanging on the wall.

It represented a gigantic ship with thirteen white sails that won from the high waves that the sea brought with her to try and swallow the ship.

Dark colors had been used to paint it and the piece of art was encased in gold. It spoke up to me. It somehow reminded me of what had happened these last few weeks. Nassau conquered by the English, Charles who managed to outrun his death, us now seeking aid from the bitch her grandparents in Philadelphia. All to preserve Nassau and save our generation of pirates.

The ship represented us, pirates, and the deadly waves were the dark times that had rested on us, but no matter what, we'll always stay alive because even if there is just a little wooden plank left, it will float and it will strand.

In silence I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms around his waist so that my head could rest against his shoulder.

"It's a rough time, but we'll get through it." I tenderly whispered while the both of us now stared at the painting, him wrapping an arm around my lower back.

"I should be the one telling you that." Charles had let out a small laugh and I chuckled with him. Then I slowly shook my head, disagreeing with him. It was my time to comfort him, not the other way around.

"I don't agree with ya."

"And why's that?" He moved his head back a little so he could watch me in his arms and raised an eyebrow.... something which he did that I loved so much.

"Because love should come from both sides." I responded and shifted my body so I was straddled on top of his lap. "And we are finally alone.... in weeks! Weeks, Charles."

It had indeed been weeks ago since we were alone and we both had suppressed some urgent feelings.

"I know, sweetheart.... so why not put us both out of this misery and strip for me."

~~~

I had put on a long sweater to keep myself warm as I leaned against the soft headboard with Charles refreshing himself, splashing some clean water in his face. Gosh, Jack did go full luxury with this room. It was massive and had different blue shades coloring the walls and floor. The only downside was that a cold breeze filled the room, but until now I wasn't really bothered by it.

I glanced up at Charles' bare torso and I knew he felt my gaze on him when I saw him smirking, but what else did he expect? He had left the door wide open leading to the bathroom while he was located inside of it before the mirror.... with no shirt on.

I had nothing else to stare at.

"You think Jack and Max can pull it off?" He spoke up as he secured half of his hair into a tail while letting the rest hang loosely.

"Let's just hope they can." I sighed, pushing myself up with the thought of doing my hair as well. I approached the bathroom and took my time to walk inside. "Want me to braid it for you?" I chuckled as Charles jerked his head back, nodding.

Never did I think he would let me do his hair, but now he gave me actual permission.

He sat down onto the bath edge and I shook my head, knowing he did so to mock my height. I took a few thin strings between my fingers and started braiding small braids in his hair. An hour had passed and laughs and flirts had filled them before we suddenly heard horrible loud knocks on the door.

"Shit."

"Hide in the bathroom, Naida." I began to stress and didn't want to concern Charles even more than he already was so I did as I was told until a voice came from behind the door.

"CHARLES! NAIDA!?" Relief washed over me as it was Jack who pounded on the heavy door.

"Goddammit, Jack!" Charles growled as he opened the door, pulling his friend inside to quickly lock the door afterwards.

"Sorry to disturb-...."

"Disturb? You scared the shit out of us." I corrected and pulled my sweater tighter around my body because of the coldness that had entered the room, coming from the hallway.

"Sorry, but I have some news." He pointed to the bed and hoped for us to get the gesture and sit down, but neither of us understood him. "Please take a seat. With the help of Max's financial ledgers and feminine wiles, we convinced Mrs. Guthrie this evening to cooperate and to work with us.... but there is a catch. I must kill Flint...."

"YOU MUST WHAT?!" I shouted.

I didn't want to lose my temper, but sadly there was no control over my emotions anymore. Well, I didn't have control anymore, something else had.

"Naida, just hear me out, I kno-...." Jack tried to continue the conversation and tried to calm me down, but I had cut him off.

In the corner of my eye I could see Charles switching positions today , standing alongside Jack now as he wanted to let me burn out for a second.

"He's my fucking father figure and you want to end his life?!" I yelled and I could feel the strong arms of Charles wrapping around me, embracing me tightly.

One of his hands slowly stroked my hair downwards and the other one rubbed in circles on my lower back.

Rage had filled me and I struggled to surrender to his comfort.

Flint.

Jack had to kill Flint...?

For fuck sake, calm down.

"I.... I can't stop the rage. I'm sorry." I apologized before finally giving in and burying my head into the crook of his neck, closing my arms around Charles.

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything."

~~~

After the incident I started because I suddenly broke by the news, I apologized to Jack and we now were standing on the dock, waving him goodbye. Jack's plan was to return to Nassau, find out where Flint was going, and execute him. My heart dropped at that thought, but somehow there was some kind of truth in what Charles and Jack had discussed when I tried to fall asleep on Charles' lap to calm down; Flint is the only man who will continue the never-ending circle of violence in Nassau and it had to be stopped.

[stagekiller]

@crimescupid​ || Meme || not accepting

Well, their “divorce” is officially over, as far as Harley is concerned. She’s gone off on her own for a few days && some little air headed cult girl really thinks she can act this way ? What a joke, not a very funny one either.

“Y'know, baby,” Harley hums as she enters. Hyenas trailing off into another room in a rapid prance, chasing some random smell once released from their leashes. “Yer brain is as mangled as that handsome face of yers if you really think…” a sudden pause, then a smile. “I’ll tell you more about it later, after all. You got a guest,” red && black leather boots step over a few things, going to a random spot to the room where she pulls out something, a sledge hammer, “I knew I left this here,” speaking as if she were in a normal situation, on a normal day.

Attention turns to the woman that had so brazenly offered to light Jerome’s cigar. Perhaps being gone a few days, perhaps the fact that she didnt recgonzie this one, made the cultist a little TOO brave or naive, as she doesn’t attempt move. Hammers is raised to rest over her shoulder, taking waltzing steps, then a skip, “I’m so rude fer not introducing myself. I’m Quinn, harley Quinn. You must be door nail, you know what goes great with nails? Hammers.” Harley adds, swinging the weapon towards her, however, making sure only the wood connects with the side of her face. Just enough to disorient them, && nearly knock out.

After the audible thud, && groan, harley reaches over, plucking said cigar from jerome’s lips, only to take a puff; blowing it back into his face, “these things are terrible for yer health, ” does she mean the tobacco, or cultist? “Lemme put it out for you,” a giggle falls from her lips before backs turned to him once more. Bending down onto her knees so that she may straddle over the cultist. Sitting on her chest. Free hand takes hold of the womans throat, just long enough for the her to take a gasp of air. Harley utilizes that opportunity to shove the still lit cigar as far down her throat as she’s able.

The need is done. Yet, Harley doesn’t take too much time to enjoy the sight of the other fighting for air as they claw at their own throat. Instead, like a satisfied child Harley hops to her feet, moving to plop herself onto Jerome’s, planting a rather forceful kiss. Then a small nibble to his jaw line. “Jerome, love muffin, ” she murmurs against his skin rather tenderly, “I’ll fuckin’ kill you,”

🃏 —PART OF JEROME WONDERS how Harley would react if she knew the full extend of his treason. The scratch of acrylics pressed to a strip of pale flesh exposed through his open shirt & flick of a lighter is merely the tip of the iceberg. It is too easy to lure them in; all he has to do is show some favoritism. It can be quick, but not painless. Harley and his groupies alike delight in thinking they are his favorite. Now, he can for sure confirm that the latter are delusional.

   Such was the case for Andrea - or was it Anna ? - whose jaw dislocates with a bold ‘crack!’ under Harley’s hammer. Jerome pays her presence no mind. He merely watches, sporting the hints of a cocky smirk. When his ‘ex’-wife approaches, Jerome calmly taps his fingers against the arms of his makeshift throne. One leg folded over the other, he barely makes a move to shift when she seizes his smoke.  “ Those are Cuban, ‘ya kno’. Pretty ‘spensive. ” Clearly bait, because they both know he doesn’t care for money. “ You’re gonna make it up to me or what? ”

    How would she react, he asks himself, if she knew that this poor little minx she’s currently choking to death was choking on a whole different kind of cigar a few minutes ago ? That sparks some glimmer in his devious gaze.

       Serves Harley right for leaving him to his own devices.

  Anna/Andrea - perhaps Alisa ? - offers a final pleading gaze towards him. He can watch the moment it dawns on her that Jerome will not make a move to help her whatsoever; oh, the way her features freeze when she realizes he just took advantage of her. How it must feel to have the breath choked out of you, feeling used and betrayed during your final moments... She coughs out a desperate swan-song; a plea.

                          What a horrible way to go.

     As his mistress approaches, the clown ought to admit there is something charming about her shenanigans. He is mostly pleased that she came back like a lost puppy - albeit disguised under that condescending attitude. When push comes to shove, Harley can’t live without him. How sweet...

    One arm rests on the chair’s, his feet only parting to accommodate her in his lap. Jerome smiles through a half-lidded gaze, cooing back in response. Her kiss, though not reciprocated, is allowed. “ Hmmm— tempting, but, no thanks. ” Free hand comes to rest against the blonde’s lean stomach, swiftly producing a blade. He is quick to press it against her, just enough to make it noticeable. A nod to the side. “ Your stuff’s over there in the corner. ”

    Word is for a fat sack of ashes. There’s some remnants of fabric and melted plastic, but most of it is burned to a crisp. Isn’t that what any petty ex would do?

“ Well. What’s left of it anyway. ” Despite pressing a blade to her stomach, Jerome steals a moment to have a good whiff of Harley’s perfume and growl. “ Boy, have I missed your pretty face, sunshine ~ ”