Once, there was an island.... // MPHFPC one shots, imagines, and misc !

To Live The Greatest Life- { Pirate/The Sea Beast AU}

I could hardly contain my joy.

Then, as a cheer rose up from the people around me, a red-haired woman stepped up onto the taffrail. Her hair was wild, barely contained under a black bandanna, and her clothes were stained by salt and dried blood. She was beautiful as the ship she sailed with. She was first mate Emma Bloom, the most feared sharpshooter on the sea. One of her hands was tangled in hanging ropes as she leaned over the edge to address the people.

" It's good to be home at last!" She shouted, her voice echoing across the harbor. " But it'll be a short stay, I'm afraid. Captain Peregrine will visit the council at first light, and when this ship is ready... we'll be off to kill a monster!"

A blond boy jumped up beside her, hanging off the taffrail with little to no care in the world. Enoch O'Connor, the spearsman, almost legendary for his deadly accuracy. " We're goin' after a leviathan! So if this ends up our last visit to Needle Key, I expect some right and proper debauchery!"

Emma Bloom laughed, her features strained, and beside her dropped the gangway. She was the first down, sweeping her arm wide to part the crowd. I staggered back, standing on the tips of my toes to see her better.

" Go on, then!" She announced, " Make way for the hunters!" 

Enoch leapt down beside her, practically bouncing with each step, while a tall and extremely muscled woman followed him down with a heaping mound of cloth draped over her shoulders.

" Council will pay well for them tongues, I'll tell you that," Enoch laughed, tapping his knuckles against the tall woman's shoulder. Bronwyn Bruntley, she must be. I strained to see her hands, but the crowd blocked my view. He turned to the crowd. " You know what that means! The drinks are on us!"

" No one goes thirsty tonight, mates!" came another voice descending from the ship. A tall, gangly man with copper goggles and scruffy hair— Hugh Apiston, one of the gunners. 

The crowd started moving, following the crew as they walked down from the ship and towards the nearest tavern. I pushed my way out, aiming for one of the closest back alleys. As much as I admired the crew of The Falcon's Revenge, I had no intention of getting shitfaced with them.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

The Falcon's Revenge bobs in the harbor, its red sails backed by the setting sun. From where I stood on the docks, I could hear the cheery song rising from the tavern down the way. Needle Key rarely got any hunter ships, and rarely would ever again, so this was my chance. My one chance.

If I was going to be anything like my grandfather, I had to take every opportunity I could. 

Which may or may not have been a leading reason behind why I had a barrel under one arm and a satchel hung over my shoulder. Hunters live the greatest lives, and die the greatest deaths, and I was going to live the greatest life known to man.

I'm a Portman. Hunting is what we do.

I threw the barrel up onto the ship first, cringing when wood banged against wood. Then I started to climb myself, hoping to God no one had half the mind to look out at The Falcon's Revenge at this very moment. I'd rather not explain myself until absolutely necessary.