#defiedorder

                   ❛     i  do  not  see  myself  as  a  KENWAY      -----   don't  act  as  though  i  am  one  because  you  are  related  to  me.     ❜

                   tell me what you like about my portrayal

                         “Never been too keen on sloppy seconds, Kenway.”

     Kidd hadn’t expected to get the position he did, master of leash at an expense of digestive freedom on an individual whom seemed more dog than man. Ah Tabai didn’t seem to like him, nor did half of Hispaniola for that matter, they of the iron cross type and wrongful right doings. But Kidd had learnt long ago how to make himself seem pleasant and trustworthy to these types.  

     Not that there wasn’t any specific reason why he shouldn’t be trusted, naturally. Except perhaps for Edward Kenway.

     Blonde haired Kenway who just slithered out of the sea and was making more work for the young captain than necessary. Kidd couldn’t help but feel exhausted as he watched and listened to the man-dog speak. He always felt a sense of “trouble” around him.

      Undeniably, they are tethered whether either liked it or not.

The smell of sea salt was pungent in the air. Jesus, was it STRONG. In ways that he wasn't expecting. Perhaps in New York, the smells of the city diluted the potential strength. Smells of various restaurants and well, smells only the CITY could bring in. Desmond sat up slowly, confusion beginning to weigh even worse on him when he felt sand between his fingers, and not the soft sheets of his bed.

He blinks once, then twice, vision slowly fading from bleary to focused. What felt like an eternity was probably only a few minutes, but it was enough for Desmond to gather his senses. ....or perhaps, what was left of them from the assault on his nose.

The golden eyes shifted, attempting to gather where he was. A tropical island. With no recollection of how or why he was here.