Subconsciously the beer and rum bottles that were in safekeeping – to postpone the crews eager punch for alcohol – got buried deep with emptiness, the glass hitting glass every moment after being drained via oral consumption.

The box was already half emptied by greed. Many more facing the same fate as the nails were brutally unplugged from the wood, the runny liquid lessening as the clock striked another half hour.

The two culprits crouched down besides the open crates of booze and trying to quieten down their mass destruction with a clearly intoxicated smile. Their mischief being the substitute of deviancy, due to their Captain strictly forbidden them drinks, after gaining the drunken reputation of trouble amongst the crew. One of them being his own possession.

She pitied another bottle and threw it to the pile when the shutters opened up – seizing enough sunlight for them both to hiss like the mythical vampires.

Then she was faced with disappointment, seeing the Captain gape down at them with subtle anger. To which he held in, for the sake of ensuring she was not endangering herself with the intense levels of alcohol sitting in her system currently; enough alcohol to encourage the escape artist in her, where she had previously attempted to hide from his wrath; ending in an unfortunate amount of injuries and… Well… punishments from the Captain.

Instead, she awaited his reaction, before dizzily glancing at her former partner in crime; Maccus.

“We were just testing the richness,” He had the audacity to say.

“Likewise…” Revealed the cruel, taunting snicker of the Scottish Captain’s tongue. It radiated poison, directing mainly at her.

“What?” Abigail defensively cried until his face brought her to silence.

He was not happy.

“Ye promised to quit the drinks. How long did that last ye? A day?” Davy Jones insulted, grabbing her navy sleeve with a harsh tug of his claw. “Yer knew better than this.”

Feeling violated and trapped, she fought against his grip, her razor sharp teeth clamming around his human-like arm, leaving a deep bite before she resulted in a very tight restraint. Her arms forced at the back and her neck breaking in his bicep embrace.

Abby grunted softly but it was no match for her Captain’s strength. All he had to do was restrain her to the point of calming down, until her breathing slowed and her gills reducing size. Ignoring the gooey substance flehming from his new wound.

Everyone paused at the sudden action ahead of them.

Seeing this younger, scrawnier girl entangled in the Captain’s meaty arms, her teeth inked in a dark liquid from jabbing him countless times.

In that moment she was dragged into the cabin to avoid embarrassment to his name, leaving Maccus to tidy up the empty bottles they drank, having the crew talk down on him in shame.

It didn’t matter to her though, as her blood started burning again at his entrapment, causing this fight and flight reaction where the alcohol tangles with her sense of protection. Exactly the reason why Jones had banned Abigail from the usage of alcohol; since it takes away her ability to allow his control that quick.

“Get off me!” She swore, teeth ripping into the fabrics of his coat, barely reaching any skin this time.

Davy growled softly under his breath and threw her against the wall, face first. He held her arms back into a restricting pose, his tentacle tying around the wrist, the others finding their way round her neck and gently closing her windpipe; just enough to give him the freedom of talking over the feral noises she was making.

“Get yerself together, Abby. I ain’t in the mood to coddle ye! Quit it!”

She was muffled into the wet tentacle and eventually drained her energy from the constant bickering and curses. Davy had gathered more bite marks against his tentacles and hand, though he didn’t care at the moment.

He waited until she grounded herself. Her head hitting the wall in silent plea. Like a white flag flapping in victory.

Stripping off his infamous coat and freeing the nasty wounds on his arm, she was being moved from the captive pretzel of his limbs and onto the bed where her bandana fell off, sitting on the dense pillow beside her.

In her blurry vision, she watched Jones throw it aside and replaced the pillow with his claw, slowly tucking it under her head.

“Yer a fuckin’ mess.” Muttered the man, his free hand ripping open her burgundy corset, loosening the faded white shirt around her, too. So the girls gills were not foreshadowed by her collar. He wanted to see them move after all, as it determined her energy levels.

This blackish and dark red substance dribbled across his fingers and elbow from the tragic line of bitemarks caused by the young shark in front.

Yet, despite the drama and his anger. Watching Abigails eyes soften in his embrace; he swore he had the urge to kiss her forehead. Before reality slapped him twice and he kept his distance, observing his possession whilst she found slumber in his monster arms. Knowing he’s going to wake up and deal with her chaos again.