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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 15, 2011 11:44:08 GMT -5
Francis would love to throttle which imbecile had coined the adage about time healing all wounds; if it wasn't meant for comfort, then it certainly was a mockery and a lie. More than half a year after his heartbreak over Arthur Kirkland, and the wound was still as raw as though new, every day without the pirate peeling it open over again.
What Francis didn't want to admit that perhaps he didn't want it healed, that the hurt was the only reminder of the pirate (other than the pirate's cloak) that Francis wasn't ready to let go of.
Still, time didn't stop and the world moved on, despite Francis feeling otherwise. He had to go on and he found that the only way he could was to immerse himself in his aims and forget, even for only a few hours a day. He was fairly successful, having disposed of a military leader and a Draconian who led an illegal smuggling ring, but Francis derived little satisfaction from it.
Instead, he had wondered whether Arthur would approve, which led to wondering about what Arthur was doing, where he was, how he was doing...Knowing he had ventured into dangerous territory, Francis threw himself into his next task, which was to procure further information about the smuggling ring.
This led him to a hub outside Granor, not too far from where his old pirate ship used to dock. As soon as he stepped into the designated shop, he knew the lead was a dead end - all the shop hid was a black market for pirates and their suppliers.
Yet it didn't hurt to linger. There might be some useful resources he might need, and the fact that the shopkeeper's handsome assistant was blatantly eyeing him convinced Francis to stay a little while, if only to make a new friend. The young man was all too eager to comply.
"My good man, I am only browsing," laughed Francis airily. "I assure you I will let you know if I do need assistance."
But the assistant was persistent in maintaining as little distance as was proper. Francis wasn't about to refuse a distraction where he found it, and soon enough, they were practically pressed chest to chest and the assistant's hand was straying to Francis' hip.
"Such attentive service," chuckled Francis, his voice dipping low. "Tell me, does your employer compensate for your - ah - passionate efforts?"
When the assistant answered in the negative in a mock-mournful tone, Francis let out a sigh and began toying with the young man's collar, effectively drawing their faces much closer.
"Well then," said Francis, his voice soaked in temptation, "why don't I remedy that, hmm? I'm not a local, you see, and I would like to stay and enjoy the night. I'm willing to let you assist me..."
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 15, 2011 13:02:04 GMT -5
Arthur himself had probably done better to get along with his life -- after all, he wasn't in solitude and he was used to keeping himself busy to stave off his own loneliness. Not to mention Francis did often come to mind, particularly if he had to sneak into a Ball, or was in the Noble district, wondering, wondering if he'd capture a glance of the other. He was probably blind to it and he'd certainly not admit it, but -- he missed the tenderness and the simple compassion of the other. He got a similar comfort through Eliza but she was someone he'd known most of his life -- someone who he'd had to stick to for survival.
Not to mention the bloody git still had his overcloak. He wanted that thing back. He was annoyed...
But he managed to shove Francis to the back of his mind, if only by force. He didn't have time for emotions. He had a ship to run and plans to follow through.
This would all fall apart upon walking into his local suppliers one day, and looking up to see the noble himself.
Flirting with another man.
His whole expression dropped and for some reason he felt his whole chest swell and tighten at the same time, feeling like the blood was draining from his face. The sudden confusion and questions and frustrations at why the feeling gripped him like a vice then caused Arthur's temper to well up, before turning around and smashing a nearby jar to the floor. He storms back out, and out of view, practically running away from the situation.
A few moments later, and Francis is knocked out by a crew member.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 15, 2011 16:43:10 GMT -5
The last thing Francis could remember was the shopkeeper's assistant leaning in, only to catch a glimpse of something that made him widen his eyes. If Francis had an extra second, he would have recognized it as shock, but since an explosion of pain on his head made rendered him unconscious, he didn't have the chance.
When Francis came to, the first thing he sensed was the cold, rough texture of the wood under his cheek. He opened his eyes groggily, his head still aching and his limbs stiff. But it was much too dark to see anything; the only source of light filtered weakly through a crack in a wooden wall nearby. Francis scrambled to his feet, ignoring his pounding head.
The light hinted at something metallic only a few steps away from him, and Francis hurried toward it. He knew what it was the moment he touched it. A bar. A series of metallic bars. A cage. His fingers trailed down and...yes, there it was: a large lock. Francis had enough experience to recognize where he was, but not why or how. The last time he was in a brig was before he had become part of a pirate crew.
He shook the bars, but to no avail.
"Hey!" he yelled out, as loud as he could. "Hey! Down here!"
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 15, 2011 17:00:34 GMT -5
Arthur was already making his way down to the Brigg when he heard the voice, and for the moment it didn't recognise in his mind. He was too sore about what he'd walked into on the shop, and now apparently his crew had captured a noble, almost randomly? It just didn't make sense.
That wasn't until Arthur reached the bottom, holding a light up to illuminate the room and his features. He grumbles.
"Hey, shut up, I'm.."
His voice trails off as he looks towards the figure, and it takes him everything not to drop his gas light. He quickly places it on a shelf to light the area, almost practically running back up the steps with his heart in his mouth.
A few moments later, there's yelling and one of the crew members is practically thrown to the floor in the Brig, and Arthur storms back in again, looking like his about to murder the man. His teeth are bared, eyes hard as ever.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING CAPTURING A NOBLE?! YOU KNOW MY COMMANDS! WHY DID YOU FUCKING DISOBEY THEM?!"
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 15, 2011 17:21:12 GMT -5
For one insane, utterly surreal moment, Francis thought he glimpsed familiar green eyes momentarily in a flicker of lamplight, but it was gone before he knew it. The light remained, though, and Francis began to wonder if he was finally going crazy.
Apparently he was, because the next moment, there was a loud thud and a harshly familiar voice was swearing loudly enough to make Francis jump back. When the looming figure stepped into the light, Francis couldn't deny it: it was indeed the pirate who tore out his heart and stomped it into pulp.
At first, something in Francis expanded and lightened, and he felt like he could fly. But he was brought back to reality by the other unknown figure's cry. Francis' chest felt crushed and tight, but he knew he needed to stop this before anyone got hurt.
"No!" he cried out. "Stop it! This is all a horrible misunderstanding! Don't - don't hurt that man!"
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 15, 2011 17:38:02 GMT -5
Arthur instantly threw something at the bars in retaliation to Francis' speech, but it just seemed to be an unlit lamp.
"DON'T TELL ME HOW TO TALK TO MY MEN."
The crew member shuffles back, holding his hands up in surrender. "Captain--I-- I can explain--"
"YOU'D BETTER---"
"WE we saw you walk into the shop, then suddenly storm out of and we went to investigate--- saw him, clearly noble material, thought he was a target and so got him while saving you the time, thought it was helping you we swear--- it was easy to capture him as he was distracted by the shop assistant---"
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT. I'll BLOODY DEAL WITH HIM NOW GO."
Arthur glares, arms folded tightly on himself as he turns and watches the other scrabble to his feet and leave, watching him go up the steps.
As he leaves, Arthur's head hangs, and he folds his arms tightly on himself. He emits a sound as if to express his disbelief and pain of the matter, still sore from earlier.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 15, 2011 17:45:10 GMT -5
Francis shut his eyes and bit down on his lip as the crew member fled, leaving them both with just each other. Perhaps if Francis didn't see him, or even emit a sound to acknowledge his presence, Francis would find he was only having a nightmare. Just a nightmare, nothing real.
Never mind that he could hear Arthur breathing in the silence, a sound that reached inside Francis and settled there, a heavy but welcome weight. He turned away from Arthur and retreated to the far wall, eyes still closed.
He would not break. Francis willed himself not to react in any way. What was the past was the past, after all, and Arthur had made his feelings clear long ago. Nothing had changed.
Arthur had said he would deal with Francis. Well, Francis thought bitterly, he had dealt with me in the worst way possible already; there's not much punishment he can inflict that will really hurt anymore.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 15, 2011 17:51:05 GMT -5
Arthur almost expected the silence, but still found himself surprised at it. He usually would expect the other's voice to tone out, probably with a rather snarky remark, or even a happy one -- but none came, of which Arthur didn't care for either way. It's not like he cared. It's not like he wasn't expecting it.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair and turning around, approaching the cell door. He fishes some keys out of his pocket and unlocks the cell, moving within the cell. He does pause for a fraction of a second to look down upon the older male, but kneels down to unlock the shackle from around Francis' ankle. He finally speaks.
"You still have my cloak, Francis, don't you."
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 15, 2011 18:03:22 GMT -5
Francis almost flinched with Arthur so near him, but he forced himself to remain still. If he couldn't be in control of his heart (which was beating alarmingly fast), he should at least be in control of the rest of his body. He also tried not to dwell on the way Arthur said his name.
Instead, he rose to his feet and stepped back, dusting off his trousers. He did meet Arthur's eyes.
"I'm not certain," lied Francis. He clutched in in his sleep every night for eight months - of course he was certain he had it. "But if I find it in my home, I will make sure to return it to you as soon as possible. I hope you are not too troubled without it."
He crossed his arms, his expression carefully blank. "Well, if that's all, I should bid you good day, Sir Captain. I won't keep you from your business any longer."
It hurt to sidestep Arthur, to turn his back on him, and put distance from him. But Francis forced himself to keep walking, to keep his head high and his back stiff, to keep what dignity he had left to leave Arthur in the brig.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Dec 15, 2011 18:11:05 GMT -5
Arthur's eyes suddenly widen and he reaches and grabs Francis' wrist, stopping him and staring towards him. He raises an eyebrow, starting to become a little taken aback at the Frenchman's behaviour.
"... You do realise we're not docked, don't you? We won't be landing for a while, yet. And you're on my ship. You can't strut about and decide to seduce whoever you fucking please -- forwhatever purposes." He spits the last bit out, suddenly very confused about why that spilled out without him managing to restrain himself. He blinks and stares, almost at himself.
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