Random Short Stories/Written Ideas

The Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

Sat within the captain's quarters, pouring over an incredibly detailed map, was a tired Kell. The world around them was various shades of gray. Dark, smokey wisps curled around the objects they used the most, which would have been distracting were they not used to their presence.  

The map sprawled before them had markings of all sorts drawn onto it. They'd crossed off, circled, drew lines, even doodled a small bit, on the yellowed paper. Monsters of all sorts decorated the oceans, and fancy lettering depicted the names of the islands, and the waters, they explored. The quill in their hand was shifted slightly before being set down. They pressed a finger onto the map, tracing one of the lines they'd recently made absent-mindedly.

The map was marked with common trade routes for merchant ships. Years of observation, and bribery (threats), paid off. 

It was also marked with where the navy patrolled the most. They could never be too certain about that and were caught off-guard more than they should have been. The navy was full of smart bastards that changed up their routes too quickly for them to see any patterns. They had to work on assumptions, and assumptions weren't good enough to keep their crew safe from harm.

Not that they haven't had any run-ins with the navy before. But now that they're becoming more persistent in their search for Kell's crew, and any other pirates that sail the seas, it's become much more dangerous. 

The creaking of floorboards near the door had them lifting their head. The door cracked open, and Lem poked his head inside. The only one among them that had been spared from the wrath of the sea witch.

"Hey, cap'n. You uh... Y'uh haven't been takin' your meals, an' Sangria is threat'nin to spoon feed you if y'uh don't c'mout and eat with us." The teen looked a bit nervous when informing them about this. As though they might discipline him for being the messenger or grow furious at such crass words from Sangria.

His expression loosened up when they chuckled, smoothing their hair back with a scarred, pale hand. 

"I will join you in a moment. Tell Sangria to stop worrying so much." They rolled the map up neatly, looking over their desk for any other items they would need to put away.

"Oh no, Cap'n. You're comin' out right now," a came a gruff woman's voice from behind Lem, making the poor boy jump halfway out of his skin. "We ain't got all night, and the food's gettin' cold. You'll hurt Tune's feelings if you don't eat while it's fresh." 

They shook their head, black hair swaying around them, before pushing their chair back and standing. Before they could respond, another voice sounded, the face of the speaker blocked by the door.

"Quit crowding the captain's door, you fiends." The voice was smooth, almost as smooth as caramel, but also fluffy like whipped cream. Elios.

"Oi, we're tryna get the cap'n t'eat, you yappin' piranha." Sangria spoke back. Despite the fact that Lem was one of the only two fish among the crew, she seemed to like calling Elios piranha the most.

Kell brushed their hair back once more, making their way towards the door. Said half-siren was pushing the door open for them, revealing the two others stood behind him. Elios was glowering at Sangria, while the latter had this toothy grin on her scarred face.

They looked to the captain as soon as they arrived. 

Elios politely nodded his head before stepping away, ever the talkative one. Sangria only clapped them on the shoulder in greeting before practically dragging them out of the room. They stumbled a bit but stayed on their feet. They were used to this, too.

"Sangria, I can walk perfectly well on my own." They reminded the woman. Kell knew she didn't need a reminder and was only making sure they didn't run back off into their quarters.

Lem trailed behind them, making sure to close the door before following.

"You're lettin' me drag you 'round anyway." She stated observationally.

Yes. Yes, they were. What could they do to stop her?

They caught sight of the rest of the crew, who were huddled up around the center mast, each holding a bowl or plate containing whatever meal Neptune had concocted. 

Various greetings sounded out as everyone caught sight of the trio approaching. The only person that didn't care to greet them was a young, scruffy-looking fellow with reddish-brown hair. Kell never really expected a greeting from the man, not after they learned of what the curse had taken from him. No, instead, they received silence, and clipped words.

Emmett didn't seem to want anything to do with the captain, but they both knew he couldn't bring himself to leave. 

And Kell wouldn't force him to.

They smiled at the crewmates, and another young man with a mop of messy blonde hair held out a dish for the captain to take. A small serving of carrots and potatoes, which was coupled by a lovely looking, charred fish, was steaming warmly. A three-pronged fork was resting on the plate. They took it thankfully, their stomach more than happy at the sight of food.

They really had been depriving themself of food as of recent, haven't they? 

Once everyone was seated, whether it be on a crate, a barrel of gunpowder, or the wooden boards of the ship, the talking began anew. Stories were passed around while they ate, and Kell relinquished their hold on their sight for the moment. Everything around them faded to black, but their sight was a small price to pay compared to the happiness of the crew.