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Pirate POV
My thoughts were racing—and then crashing against my voice box. I wanted to scream out everything that was going through my head. I didn’t know what I was thinking; perhaps if I had spoken it all aloud I’d understand it all. I let myself drop into the wooden chair, lazily. My blurred sight began to clear and my smile widened. The cleared vision and the slow decline of the abstract thoughts could only mean one thing: I was sober. Well, somewhat.
“I’d like your finest merlot over ‘ere.” I was glad my voice wasn’t still slurred. A young girl nodded, glaring at my fine attire. Everyone was just jealous; they were jealous of my black coat and my black pirate hat. My smile curled upwards with satisfaction.
Old Captain Henry Morgan would be green with envy if he set eyes upon me.
When the wine was brought I snatched the napkin before me and laced it in my lap—manners are very important, even to powerful pirates such as myself. I gripped the filled glass, more greedily then I would have liked. When I brought it to my lips I could see it. That foul black cad ninja appeared like a fly would on a corpse—expected, logically, but and always causing spectators to gag.
I set the glass down just as he put down his glass of white wine. I tossed my napkin onto the ground—again, just as he did. We stood at the same time; everything seemed ritualistic by now. It’s an almost calming feeling to know what’s to come next, but surprises are always preferred.
I drew my cutlass, growing more and more excited as I moved. He made his pose; that always expected pose. The game was about to begin and I do so love a good game. It might have been for the game—or it might’ve been from the rum from earlier—but a lone tumbleweed rushed across the space before us. The black barrette on it moved in perfectly as it danced out of sight with the wind. Such a delightful waltz, but I held the adrenaline cased game in favor over anything else. Well, it was right after rum and women. And after my ship. And my hat.
“Have at thee.” I grinned, madly. My pistol rested at my side, set for the right time. My cutlass was lusting as much as I was for his blood. Light, eastern music sounded far off as he motioned with his hand for me to come. The game had begun. I was ecstatic.
We leapt at each other—our precise attacks were matched evenly. His fists against my cutlass, an easy stalemate it seemed. He broke the movements by truing to kick at my head; a futile gesture. I ducked, suppressing my urge to laugh and pressed forth. With my weight on my left leg I went forward and thrust my sword at his legs.
I was as giddy as I would be with a big jug of rum and pretty blond haired girl in my lap.
However, the ninja had somehow gotten away. He must have used the kick he was making to move away—but I only saw him land before me in a cat-like stance. I always wondered what kind of face he made after he moved away like that. Was he enjoying it as well, or was he just a kitten pissed off after being woken up?
I stood straight, glaring at his eyes happily. A wry grin remained plastered on my face as I nodded. My smile broke so that I could smirk, but returned to its natural position right after. The game would go on. The thrill would gain height. My need for a fight would be subdued.
I turned to a nearby table. Perfect. I snatched up a baguette from a waiter passing by before the bread could be set down on the table. I hurled it at my foe. I was quite happy to see it go by so fast; it made my pride swell as much as the woman made it swell when I walked into a room and they would fight to be by my side for the evening.
Sadly, he held his fist up and split the baguette with his hand. How the Hell did he do that? I really have to wonder sometimes, but I also have to admit that the comedic manner that was constantly in play during our duels made it more fun. I admired him, a bit. My cutlass against his baguette, of course bread is really no much for a sword, but kept the energy going all the same.
He threw the chopped up bits of bread at me and flipped his way onto the tower’s elevator, going up. I just loved his pointless antics. Why walk when you can dance about like a primate?
I went in after him—but a police man and an elderly woman in a wheelchair were there to greet me. He was standing there, standing placidly, and so I sheathed my sword. When we left the elavat my cutlass was ready and now he had a sword of his own drawn to meet me. Why he didn’t pull that out earlier, I’ll never know.
I lost myself then. I often do. Only the beat of my heart and the movement of my hot blood moving through my veins remained present. We fought—well, dueled is a more refined verb in this case. We moved through the throng of people simply reacting to each other’s blows.
We climbed onto the metal rungs of the tower; he was able to gain more height. He moved faster up the tower and came down at me with a kick. He knocked my poor cutlass out of my grip. I turned my head about abruptly to watch the item fall, but I wasn’t sentimental about it in the least. I still had my pistol at my side, after all, so my sardonic smile never left.
I shook my head with a sigh before looking back to the ninja. With a wicked look in my eyes I equipped my pistol and shot at him. He dodged and flipped—he was always flipping about.
My body continued to fight the circus animal, but my mind decided to wander off yet again. I thought back to the merlot still sitting at the table. I could use another glass of something. Vodka, rum, wine—any of that would suit me. I rather fancy my alcohol.
When I came to, I had somehow shot the poor bugger’s sword out of his hand. Payback—clearly. Pride came over me at the sight, but left just as quick when he donned more ninja stars. I hated those things. He immediately threw one and hit the metal beside my head. It was most amusing for me. “You had better aim on the Statue of Liberty; you’re losing your touch!” I spoke with a confirming laugh.
He threw more stars and I shot more bullets. We climbed higher over the clustered scenery of Paris. He leapt up another rung and I took aim. It was these moments I practically lived for. The ones where I was hooked by reality, pun not intended. My bullet grazed his hand and I let out a triumphant laugh. I quickened my pace with glee, dodging his stars easily. I really did love these moments.
To my disappointment, I was not able to doge one. It crashed into my leg and I was forced to let out a pained cry. We had reached the top, but I would have trouble getting down with this leg.
I was overjoyed to find he was out of stars. No more toys for him to throw at me. He waited on the spiral for me, waiting without any weapons.
I lifted my gun, aiming for his head. There was no noise from my gun when I pulled the trigger. At least, not the noise I was hoping for. A click sounded in place of the gunshot, sounding only to signify that the barrel was empty. I glared into his brown eyes with my own emerald eyes. We were at a stalemate.
I looked up, following his gaze which had also turned skywards. There was my lovely ship: The Black Remedy in all her glorious beauty. The anchor was lowered for me as my crew gave a savage cheer to show their approval. I sat upon it after jumping onto it. A new gun was thrown to me, loaded with the safety pulled back. I looked back to the ninja. He leapt off the tower and opened a black kite-like contraption from his back.
He had got away, but I didn’t mind. I put the safety back on casually and laughed, satisfied. “Next time… Next time.”
The game was far from over.
 Belle Laide · Tue Jun 30, 2009 @ 08:27pm · 0 Comments |
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