Rumours and Reality
Jan. 30th, 2016 03:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: Noblesse
Summary: M-21 gets dragged onto a new ship.
Notes: Pirate AU
So brainstorming with Laryna got out of hand. And I’m not doing anything more with this snippet because I have no idea how to write pirates or sea faring plot. :P
Inspired by the otpprompt, '
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Word count: 356
Status: Complete
M-21 is coughing and spluttering, salt water still trying to drown him as he’s dragged aboard a ship. The ship it has to be, the one that appeared out of the evening fog like a fucking ghost and rammed right into the Union ship, Fifth Hell. That’s the name the slaves gave her, and she earned it, the crew more than happy to kill them for any transgression. They could always get more.
There’s rumours and horror stories shared between the slaves, about routes that the Union ships took to a certain place, just to kill them off. They know why, there are a few who were allowed to see it, so long as they kept their mouths shut. That doesn’t stop others listening in to their nightmares from what they’d seen.
He had heard a horrified, "It’s the Dark Spear" just before they were rammed and he was thrown into the sea.
There’s a red glow to his left and it doesn't move right for it to be fire, but he can only stare up at the flag above him. Black background, a purple spear slashing across it, its edges flickering like a flame. It seems fitting.
The air is thick with blood, but the only liquid there is water. Blood’s seeped so far into the wood it’s stained it permanently, making it look black in the moonlight.
Even with the chill of the dive he just took into the water, he’s still too cold for it to be natural. There’s ice fingers creeping up his spine and then it grips his wrist.
The wrist that had holds his brand as a slave.
Just as soon as it held him does it stop, warmth encompassing him like a blanket.
That was the ship, he knows it was.
He shivers again, and it’s got nothing to with the cold this time.
He used to be a slave of a Union ship, and that life was as shitty and miserable as the crew there made it. But is it better to find himself on a ghost ship, one that had been created from the lives of slaves?
Summary: M-21 gets dragged onto a new ship.
Notes: Pirate AU
So brainstorming with Laryna got out of hand. And I’m not doing anything more with this snippet because I have no idea how to write pirates or sea faring plot. :P
Inspired by the otpprompt, '
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Word count: 356
Status: Complete
M-21 is coughing and spluttering, salt water still trying to drown him as he’s dragged aboard a ship. The ship it has to be, the one that appeared out of the evening fog like a fucking ghost and rammed right into the Union ship, Fifth Hell. That’s the name the slaves gave her, and she earned it, the crew more than happy to kill them for any transgression. They could always get more.
There’s rumours and horror stories shared between the slaves, about routes that the Union ships took to a certain place, just to kill them off. They know why, there are a few who were allowed to see it, so long as they kept their mouths shut. That doesn’t stop others listening in to their nightmares from what they’d seen.
He had heard a horrified, "It’s the Dark Spear" just before they were rammed and he was thrown into the sea.
There’s a red glow to his left and it doesn't move right for it to be fire, but he can only stare up at the flag above him. Black background, a purple spear slashing across it, its edges flickering like a flame. It seems fitting.
The air is thick with blood, but the only liquid there is water. Blood’s seeped so far into the wood it’s stained it permanently, making it look black in the moonlight.
Even with the chill of the dive he just took into the water, he’s still too cold for it to be natural. There’s ice fingers creeping up his spine and then it grips his wrist.
The wrist that had holds his brand as a slave.
Just as soon as it held him does it stop, warmth encompassing him like a blanket.
That was the ship, he knows it was.
He shivers again, and it’s got nothing to with the cold this time.
He used to be a slave of a Union ship, and that life was as shitty and miserable as the crew there made it. But is it better to find himself on a ghost ship, one that had been created from the lives of slaves?