MORVEUX

“Sorry, Captain, I didnae ken ye’d be here,” Ned blurts out, instinctively raising his hands in surrender as he pushes open the cabin door and immediately finds himself on the receiving end of La Diamant’s musket, “Some lads down on the gangway sent me up, said ye needed some broken furniture moving out of your quarters and I-”

"Well-" he muses, eyes glittering blue as sea glass. Laurent regards him carefully, but his expression is all fond bemusement. "Haven't you just been made the fool of, hmm?" Laurent snorts, rolling his eyes and with a final twist of his wrist, holsters his pistol and adjusts his gun belt. He eyes the boy again. "You can put your hands down." he tacks on dryly. "-I think you've been wounded enough for one day, if you count your pride as the unfortunate victim."

He was oddly endearing, this stranger that he didn't recognise. Laurent wonders if they had ever met at all, he doubts it. The boys pretty enough that he would have remembered him. Laurent smirks with a cock sure arch of his eyebrow and slinks closer. "-Did they offer money for your-" Laurent gives him a scathingly slow and sly once over and the smile on his face is all trouble. "-services rendered?" Laurent gestures to the room, vaguely flippant "-No furniture to move, but I'm very much willing to pay gold to have someone clean this mess up. I'd do it myself but-" He shrugs "-I can't be fucked."

This also happens to be the perfect opportunity to pass on special orders to only a few - find me whatever you can from the widow's wake. Saying the two ships are at odds with each other is definitely putting it nicely. Why not try and get an upper hand in the wake of destruction? Again, pirate. Some people take to this life much better than others.

The captain of the raider's revenge finds himself in possession of a particular set of pearls, which one of the crew mentioned came from the stateroom of one particular captain. René didn't need to be told that; he can tell from the quality of the pearls that they are French. There is only one person in his mind in Tortuga who would have French pearls.

How long had they been at this cat and mouse game with their two crews playing with each other? Did it really matter? The game ended in a bloody mess when they did meet. René had also been putting off an encounter with the devil may care blonde-haired captain of the other ship. His crew thought he was just toying with the reputation that the raiders had. In part, that was true, but behind the facade he wore, there was still a French boy nervous and not ready to face the other.

Maybe he was looking for an excuse and this just happened to be it. The perfect opportunity for him to stroll up after the wake of the tragedy and gloat with a hardy-har-har.

It's been a long time. René is a sea-hardened captain who walks with the air of nothing can touch him and a cocksureness that he never had worn before. He finds himself gracing the entrance to the captain's quarters of another ship with the sound of a pistol aimed right at him.

René does not flinch, staring down the golden barrel. No, it takes every fiber of his being not to react to the sound of that silky voice he knows all to well. A ghostly memory of a time long gone. "Oh, so you do still think I am pretty," A pertinent tone matched with a smirk on his features. "And happy to see me." He lets that settle for half a moment before pointing to the pistol. "I meant the pistol. Don't worry, I'm unarmed." he holds his hands to show that fact.

Without invitation, he steps into the room and surveys the mess left behind. Wed soggy paper quishes under his boot. "I can't say I'm not displeased at seeing the state of this place. We fared much better than this."

Laurent is a boy again suddenly, green and 17 and holding the reigns of a pretty dapple charger that's too big for him and he knows it. The blacksmith is pointing at someone he thinks might be the same age as he is but he can't tell. Either way, he's bigger than Laurent and the nobleman's son feels suddenly and altogether, too small for the entire world.

The Blacksmiths boy is called Rene and Laurent doesn't care about anything other than that one fact. He fixes the thrown shoe and Laurent watches, transfixed and in awe at how masterfully a job he does. When he stands up and approaches, Laurent can feel a lump in the back of his throat. He doesn't know what to do when Rene smiles at him, and he certainly doesn't know what to do when he's helped to his feet of a haystack, Rene's big hands around his waist. His heart will start aching then and it will never, ever stop.

Rene kisses him for the first time on the banks of a stream on the outskirts of the city. They stand under a heavy green oak tree, Laurent perches on one of the ancient roots, if only to cup his loves face a little bit easier. Rene calls him beautiful in that sort of gold laced, earnest way Laurent has come to recognise and adore. Laurent kisses him again, breathing sugar sweet words of adoration into his mouth.

He's Laurent's first everything. First Kiss, first fuck, first love. It happens under the stars, in some long abandoned Laboucheré villa. Rene holds him close, loves him sweetly and Laurent doesn't care that he has tears in his eyes from how utterly, heart-breakingly beautiful it all is. He tells Rene he loves him, clutching him tightly in the after-shocks and in the sweet gold afterglow, Laurent promises he'll never leave him. He promises they'll grow old together in that very Villa. He promises he'll love him forever.

He promises, promises, promises.-

"What are you doing here." the question is thrown out of him, like Laurent just took a sucker punch to the gut and couldn't quite recover in time. His hand is shaking, pistol swinging back and forth just wildly enough that any shot he could take, would be an immediate write of.

Laurent flinches when he steps closer and it's all so achingly familiar that he wants to curl up and die. He just stares at Rene, those big blue eyes wide and brimming with so much fear laced shock, it was a wonder they weren't bleeding out of their sockets.

"You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't-" Laurent swallows thickly, past the Rene shaped cavernous lump in his throat and licks his lips. "-you need to go. You need to leave please-" Laurent tries to steady his hand but he just can't quite manage it. His fore-finger slips of the trigger and he can't look away. Laurent feels like the cabin is closing in around him. Like his heart it about to beat right out of his chest.

He remembers the Villa and the way Rene would hold him and the way it just felt correct. Laurent wants to start crying and never stop.

"-Don't make me look at you any longer, Rene." The words are soft, rolled in a sort of agony few would know and fewer could cope with. "-Please" He pleads, as if weaponizing his own guilt would make him any less vicious for having it in the first place.

the barkeep saunters innocently over, brushing unruly curls from out of his face. gaze catches buttery blonde first, follows the line down to the cut of his jaw and cathal can do nothing to stop the crooked smile that blossoms. nor will he. "missing a crucial word there, darlin'." head tilts to one side as he parks his arse upon the table, stretching his own long limbs out. "all this time i have been letting you admire my assets for free and i could've been earning double?" he tuts softly, shaking his head. "and what if i want a drink? call it compensation? for my great effort."

He slides his palm onto the others thigh, not high enough for it to count as an actual fondle, but not low enough for it to be anything other than pure, lustful interest. Laurent stares up at him, half a sun kissed god in the tawny light of the fireplace. The glow catches in his hair and turns it to molten gold.

His accent, the pretty lilt of his voice. Laurent is smitten. He shudders just enough for it to be noticeable and gives his thigh a soft and affectionate squeeze. Cathal looks gorgeous like this, leaning half over him with all the light casting his profile into sharp, beautiful focus. Laurent wants to kiss him until he's dizzy.

"Triple, mon cher-" Laurent jokes with a grin that flashes all of his teeth. "-if you'd have taken your shirt of and let me kiss you whenever I wanted." Laurent shifts closer, blinking up at him with all the faux innocence he can manage. "-oh wait, I do that already."

"I'll buy you a drink." Laurent says softly, lowering his voice so that only Cathal would hear. "-I'd buy you anything you wanted, ma beau" With his other hand, Laurent reached for the hem of his shirt, intent on sliding it free of his pants just enough so that he could press his fingers into his skin. Right over his hip. Just to see if it felt like he remembered. Laurent breathed out softly, lips curving into a smile that was gentle around the edges for once.

"So great an effort that i'm still sitting here? Without wine and worse-" Laurent tuts and the hand on Cathals thigh inches upward. "-without you on my lap."

his fury suited him. ruin clung to him like perfume.

she pushed off the door with a slow, measured step into the wreckage of the room. glass crunched under her boots, soaked hems dragging through splinters and seawater alike. his hat was perched smugly atop her head, tilted just off-centre, the peacock feather bobbing with every step like a taunt.

"you always did keep too much. so sentimental." she didn't spare the floor a glance even with the rubble, her eyes were only on him. "i only helped to lighten the load. besides—" her teeth pulled at her lower lip, the corners of her mouth turned upwards in a devilishly coy smile. "you always did say it looked better on me."

she stepped close enough now to let the muzzle of his musket press against her chest, between her breasts. "are you going to turn me away, laurent?" her pout was dramatic, her eyes feigning as much innocence as one like her could. "but i was so looking forward to watching you lament your poor ship."

He's reminded of his time in the Spanish colonies in South America, of a pirate lord on a throne made of men's bones and birch trees who sat on the beach and drank wine from the skull of an ox. Laurent, barely 23, had watched wide eyed as the Widows former Captain begged for safe passage into the Gulf. He had parlayed with him until the sun set.

Chained to his half wood half man throne had been a leopard. Laurent had watched the thing watch him for so long he had wondered if that cat could hear what he had been thinking. It had only blinked at him, languid and slow but there was something razor sharp in that honey yellow stare. Like it was just waiting on the chain snapping, and when that happened, Laurent knew it would have taken his head in its jaws and crushed him like he was nothing. That thing wants to eat me alive, he had thought, terrified.

He often thought about that Cat. Wondered if it was dead. Wondered if it had eaten it's fat pirate lord. Laurent hoped it had. Rika reminded him of that Leopard She had the same long sharp look in her eye anytime he saw her. Just wait, it said. Just wait.

Laurent did not lower the gun as she stepped closer and then the cool end of the barrel kissed her chest, he cocked the hammer on impulse and stroked the trigger, gentle as a lover might.

He ignored the hat. It helped quell his rage when he did because of course, she was right. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to blow her head clean of her shoulders.

"Rika." he said and it was more a bite than anything else. "-You're alive. How unfortunate." Laurent smirked down at her, brows furrowing over the two-tone shine of his eyes. He looked furious. He looked lost. He looked like he wanted to kill her. He looked like he wanted to hold her and not let go.

"-And here I was, praying the sea had carried you away screaming so I'd never have to look at you again." He sighed "-I suppose this proves that there is no God after all. Had he been real, I wouldn't have had to suffer through loosing my ship and tolerating your company."

Laurent shifts, fast as a lightening strike and then, the pistol is pressed into the soft palate under her jaw. He could pull the trigger and blow her head to pieces. The thought makes him grin.

"-Be a good girl, ma précieuse petite chatte-" His face falls suddenly, expression as cold as half shrunken room they stood in. "-and fuck off."

after checking his office breifly, taking note of how damaged it was, felix moved on. it could be repaired, with time. he gathered some of his tools and damp files, before walking towards the captain's quarters.

as the pistol is trained on him, he doesn't flinch. instead he merely leans against an already leaning doorway. "i did not ask." felix looks around the captain's quarters and frowns. "i thought i might find you here."

Laurent glances to the tools in Felix's hand knowingly and wishes that it didn't have to be this way.

"Hmm-" Laurent muses, smiling wryly. "The Captain found in the Captains quarters? how shocking." The joke is forced though, falling flat and his smile doesn't quite reach his ears. Laurent, for lack of a better word, looks wretched.

"-Are you alright?" He asks eventually, tucking his pistol back into the leather slip on his belt. "-You aren't hurt?"

her first thought is about incoming ships- tortuga was a relatively self-sustaining island, but they relied on supplies from overseas. she sucks in her lip, before letting out a tired sigh.

she's brought out of her thoughts by the sound of another. astrea glances at the other and shrugs. "suppose i am," she begins to tie up her hair with a ribbon. there was work to do, and it was always best to keep her hair out of her face. "i'm used to ships bein' up right in the water." astrea hops down from her perch, a mixture of mud and sand coating her boots. "it that your ship out there?" she nods towards the widow's wake.

Her question catches him of guard though he doesn't know why. Laurent glances up and tries to subtly square his shoulders under the stretch of his cream shirt. Perhaps if he looks bigger, he might feel bigger.

"What?- Oh, yes." Laurent follows her gaze and grimaces again when the Widow comes into view. He sighs heavily before he can stop himself, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "-We'll have to fix that hole before we right her, or she'll just keep turning. Or worse." Laurent tacks on grimly. He doesn't know why he's being so open and honest with this girl. This small blonde creature that reminds him of a life long dead.

It feels ok though. Like he has divine permission to be vulnerable for a moment. She'll not remember me anyways, he thinks, and that helps with some of the shame of it all.

"-who has asked you to help?" Laurent glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "-or is all this penance self imposed."

A half chuckled came out of his mouth as he tried to keep his composure and glanced around. Sure, he wasn't dressed to the nines as the fellow he was talking to, but he thought he didn't look that bad. "I may not it but trust or dont, but i do have the coinage to back up what i said." Kai said before locking eyes with him again. "Though if you're scared...." and let his sentence trail off.

Laurent pressed his fingers into the heavy hanging money pouch strapped to his belt. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." he drawls, tilting himself just so, their bodies closer now. He grins, all teeth, as his eyes rake the boy again. "-because it's just a fever dream on your end without the proof to back it up."

"Scared?...oh-" Laurent laughs gently, curling the noise at the end into something undeniably sultry. He idles closer, unblinking and dragging his bottom lip through his teeth. "-aren't you just precious."

"Let's say your money is real, what would we be betting it on, hmm?"

She was quiet as a mouse as she stepped aboard The Widows Wake. She had no idea if there was someone aboard already but she was certainly intrigued to see what was left of the place.

As she travelled deeper into the ship, she heard Laurent before she saw him. For a moment, Celia thought about turning to leave. Though she was intrigued to see the other - to see how he might have been left after everything that had happened.

Celia smirked a little as Laurent turned to her, "And here I thought you'd be thrilled about all of this destruction." She spoke, sarcastically. She rolled her eyes. "Your mood doesn't scare me." She lifted her chin then and glanced to the barrel of the gun, "So are you going to move this thing from my face?"

He arched an eyebrow at her, lips pursing. He looks unimpressed. Bored even. He thinks about shooting her just to get out of this tsunami of an incoming conversation. His finger strokes the trigger like he would an open lover and the feeling shrouds him like smoke. He feels it right down into the marrow of his bones. Just shoot her. Just do it. All of that destruction. His ruined ship. His missing gold and jewels and fucking peacock hat make him shudder with rage. He half thinks about turning the gun on himself and almost recoils just as quickly. I'm far to pretty to go out like that, Laurent thinks to himself.

Instead and very much against his better judgement, Laurent leaves her breathing and thinks that is mighty merciful of himself. He sighs loudly though, ever the fiend for dramatics. "No." He replies, voice clipped and laced with chagrin. "-I'm of the humble opinion you would look much prettier with a hole in your skull." He smiles, venomous as a snake. "-shame someone stole my hand mirror. I'd have let you see that craterous improvement before putting you out of your misery."

it was the other part of the question that made him silent but he hoped that the split second wasn't noticeable as he smoked his pipe again. he never felt anything towards anybody and not for lack of trying, he always thought there was maybe something broken in him. until remi that is. did he 'fancy' him? vidar refused to answer to himself.

"no." he said quietly, it was easier than telling the truth, the truth was too complicated and confusing and he hardly wanted to deal with it right now, because whatever it was he felt for remi he wanted it gone and at the same time never let it go.

Laurent watched the other pirate and the silence shifted into something noticeable. It bled, like a knife wound on white cotton, the space turned red between them. Laurent cocked a perfectly shaped pale brow in his direction, a fiend on the hunt for gossip.

"At all?" he mused, stroking the rim of his glass with one long finger. "-Hmm." Laurent peered at him for a moment, not entirely convinced and entirely ready to keep steering the conversation in that annoying direction. He smiled at Vidar, all teeth and silver fish hooks.

"-And this person that you don't fancy-" Laurent waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Whoever they may or may not be, are they pretty?" Laurent's eyes narrowing, gleaming blue in the half dark. "-handsome?" he presses before drawing in a gap. "-Do I know them? Have I fucked them?"

"oh, laurent. it sounds like you're truly in paradise," a hum, "anyone in particular who's captured your heart?" he gently shoved laurent once more as a laugh slipped through his lips, "or are you spreading your love amongst them all?"

laurent was by far the best dressed pirate remi had ever laid his eyes on — it endeared and humored remi. the man sure new how to dress and remi could absolutely learn a thing or two from his friend. the way he touched the fabric, as if it were a delicate feather threatening to slip through his fingers. a boisterous chuckle erupted from remi's lungs as he watched laurent who was certainly delighted by the very idea of purchasing the fabric. "i don't just think so, i know so," he insisted, encouraging laurent's behavior — fanning it like a flame. the delight in laurent's eyes was something to behold and remi wondered if anything made his own eyes light up like that. when he agreed to purchase it, remi clapped his hands together in excitement, "i cannot wait to see what you do with it."

"you might just be the happiest person on tortuga, laurent," he mused, reaching his hand over to softly squeeze laurent's jaw. "we could all learn a thing or two from you." at the mention of a drink, remi's eyes grew wide, "i could never turn down a drink. you know the way to my heart, don't you?"

"I know-" Laurent drawled smugly, accent curling the words into something sweet as sugar. "-I keep telling people that but they won't listen." he half jokes. "-you're correct, as per usual. People should be taking orders from me at all times-" He grins again, shuffling closer to Remi. "-preferably on their backs, but I'm not fussy honestly."

He gestures toward the rest of the market, more so to a barely there tavern in the back that he knows sells good wine and ok ale. "-Of course I do." Laurent replies, sauntering along beside him until they hit a free table. It stands tall, more a barrel turned into the idea of a table than anything else. There are no chairs. Laurent leans an elbow on the sherry sticky top and reclines, practically dislocating a hip all in an attempt to make his ass look better for whoever might be lucky enough to start looking.

He orders for them both. A Tankard for Remi. A port glass for himself. "So tell me Mon Ami-" he begins, smiling across the tight space at Remi. "-How are you filling up your time here?" Those big bright eyes seem to glow, like a dogs in the dark. His stare is unwavering but warm, almost friendly enough for it to count. He leans over the table just enough, voice lowering an octave. "-Anyone caught your fancy? If you're lacking for company I can point you in the direction of a very reputable whore house, there's a pretty brunette there will suck the soul right out of you if given the chance."