Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 17, 2010 8:30:14 GMT -8
(Bey = white, England = blue, Rome = black, Korea = red and France = gold)
The time for the meeting arrived. Up on the highest level of the cavern, along the back end of the cave, the Captain's Room was carved directly into the wall. Shaped in irony of a chapel, the front of the building had a tall tower that reached all the way up to the ceiling - and in place of a cross, there was a skull and cross bone.
The inside of the building was much the same as the outside - the large circular table at the centre of the main room was carved up out of the ground as were the chairs that surrounded it - but with how large it was and how many chairs there were, people could pick and choose where they sat and there would still be more than enough spare room.
Sitting already at the table, Arthur watched other captains enter cautiously. And with good reason, he supposed as a meeting between all the captains had never been called - at least in his lifetime. Pirates were... well, normally they were self-sufficient and too busy stabbing each other in the back to have a need for Libertalia. Resting his head on one hand as he watched the table slowly fill, an odd feeling of dread starting to build in him.
Something told him this wasn't going to end well...
Sauntering in by himself, Renato had every eye on him as he was the sole person in the room who was blatantly wearing his map piece. It shone brightly off his chest as he'd decided to leave his shirt mostly unbuttoned (also showing off his muscles). Chuckling darkly at the wary looks he got from many of the men and women in the room, his eyes lit up when they landed on a certain fluffy blond head. "Arthur~" he called as he dashed forward, getting the green-eyed mans attention as he claimed the chair to his right.
Claiming his mandatory kiss from the disgruntled, blushing blond, he settled back, cheerful grin plastered on his face as he stared down every uneasy glance sent his way. Snorting, he turned to the curious gaze of his former crew man. "I'm the oldest person here and yet they all look so... afraid." the grin turned rather predatory.
"...You know something, don't you?" Arthur questioned, trying to will away the guilty blush that bloomed every time the older man decided to do something odd - like kiss him (and hoping to god that Afonso never found out about his former... fling).
The amused glint in his eye dimmed as he quickly glanced around the table again. "Not really... but I think something's going to happen. And we probably won't like it." he turned a serious gaze on Arthur. "Just be ready."
Yong Soo wandered into the chapel, his ivory sleeves idly waving at his sides and a broad, bright grin dominating his features. The Korean, ever conscious of appearances, had felt a particular need today to go that extra mile on this, his primary debut as a bonafide sea captain.
His jeonbok was a shimmering ocean blue, the draconic crest of his ship painstakingly stitched upon his back in coal black thread that matched his baji. The undershirt beneath was a creamy white, not stark enough to be blinding but fine enough to gleam, embossed dragons lacing the ink-colored ends of his sleeves as an added talisman. Over his head, the Korean placed a bright blue bandana, covering all but his bangs and Sang Ki, the little hair merrily beaming as it bobbed with the Asian's steps.
Yong Soo looked around the chapel, humming lightly as he catalogued each speculative look sent his way, not making eye contact with any of the other captains but noting them all the same. There was a lot of curiosity in those glances, most of them wondering what the devil he was doing there.
The experience was oddly familiar, Yong Soo thought, as though he had spent many, many times gathering in council with a large group of important people. There was even a strange sense of familiarity with some of them, at least in appearance, as though the Asian had met them in a dream once.
'It must be fate, da ze,' the Asian thought, smiling brightly, 'I'm meant to be here.' Finding a seat a few chairs down from the man with fuzzy eyebrows and his cheerful (if intimidating) companion, the Korean turned towards the doors, cooly and confidently adjusting his sleeves and resting his elbows on the table, continuing his humming and watching the others come in.
Francis found himself buzzing with an odd, barely contained excitement as he strolled into the chapel. Hearing about meetings at Libertalia was interesting-but to actually be attending one...well that was just too good. He found more reasons to like this captain business everyday.
He stopped in the doorway, straightening his jacket and reaching into his pocket to get a ribbon and pull his hair out of his face. Sure, the blonde knew that he always looked impressive, but it was always good to make sure. Tying a bow with practiced efficiency he used his brief pause as an excuse to survey the room.
It was much more impressive than he'd expected-elegantly carved chairs, the massive, strangely made table-he'd underestimated the decorating skills of his peers (even if it was a bit dark and dramatic for his tastes.)
Seated at various intervals were-what he assumed to be-the other captains. Most of whom he didn't recognize, and several he knew as passing acquaintances. Most of the rooms attention seemed to be subtly directed at a tall dark haired man and his companion who had disturbingly bushy eyebrows. The french captain considered the pair for a moment before writing the latter off as some kind of lackey and deciding that it would be in his best interest to befriend the former at the first possible opportunity.
He noted, with mild irritation, that he couldn't see either of his best friends in the gathered group. Seemed like fate had decided it was time for him to start making some new connections.
Didn't take him long to single some one out. Tall, elegantly (though somewhat exotically) dressed and with a reasonably friendly smile on his face, the man seemed to be getting the same questioning, suspicious glances that he himself was receiving 'a person after my own heart'
”Interesting lot here, oui?” He commented, sliding into the empty chair on the other captains left.
At last, a good majority of the seats were filled - and when the Head Captain, one Jean Bey (brown haired, blue eyed and undoubtably french by his accent) entered, followed by a line of servants bearing flasks of wine and cups, placing one in front of every captain. As the wine flowed into the cups, Jean held up his arm, frilled sleeve sliding half-way down and revealing a bracelet with a glowing golden gem clasped in it. Removing the gem, he placed it in a small groove on the top of the table, setting it in place.
Nearly as one, most of the other captains removed their map piece from somewhere hidden on their person and placed it in the groove in front of them and soon the table was bathed in a faintly glowing green light as the pieces reacted to each other. "Well, gentlemen, gentlewomen..." Jean started out softly, staring around the whole table.
"Hey... where's your piece?" Renato murmured, ignoring the Head Captain as he leaned towards Arthur, who hadn't reached for the map piece he knew the younger man had. His own three rested in a small pile in front of him, getting envious looks from the few men who sat across the table from him.
"... it's hidden away, quite safely out of reach." Arthur mumbled back, not taking his eyes away from the man standing in front of them, even as he reached for his cup of wine. His thoughts drifted to Afonso, who was very much away from this meeting - as he was on a sky-pirates crew and most likely didn't even have an idea that this place even existed.
Bringing the wine to his lips, something smelled... off.
"I would like to make an inquiry as to who called this meeting without first informing me." Jean continued on. All attention was suddenly on him as the older captains all knew that as the leader of Libertalia and Head Captain over them all, Bey would be the one to call meetings. He was the only one with full access to the signal that called them all here.
Yong Soo turned his head up to the Frenchman next to him, his hands pausing in their fidgeting as the Asian’s smile broadened. ‘Wow! A real pirate captain like me, da ze!’ the Korean took a half second to look the other over, nodding slightly in approval, ‘And a snappy dresser, too!’ Yong Soo then managed to corral his enthusiasm enough to register that the French captain had asked him a question, and he nodded again, more fervently, causing Sang Ki to bob a bit.
“Ye! I’ve never seen so many sea captains in the same place, da ze—well, outside of a ship-dock.” Yong Soo was about to clasp his hands together and bow his head to the other, but, remembering that he was in mostly Western company, he offered his sleeve instead, smiling, “My name’s Yong Soo, and I’m the captain of the Lucky Dragon. We both originated from Korea, da ze~”
Yong Soo tilted his head, looking the other over again. Something about the Frenchman’s appearance provoked a strange fuzzy feeling in the Asian’s mind, like two cloths overlapping and dragging across each other. In the resulting friction, Yong Soo was left with both a distinct unexplainable friendliness towards the European, and the whisperings of a name.
What that name was, Yong Soo did not immediately figure out—the Korean’s attention was soon swiftly captured by the entrance of the Head Captain. He withdrew his hand from Francis’ as a servant poured them both glasses and set them down in front of them. The Korean looked at his wine, blinking a bit, before looking around the room.
Seeing the other captain’s removing their map pieces, Yong Soo hesitantly lifted his arm to his neck, making a show of diving through his sleeve. In actuality, he was slipping the jewel out of its real hiding place in his collar and into the fingers of his other hand. No need for everyone to know his secrets, after all. Setting the gem down into its appropriate groove, the Korean looked up again, smiling pleasantly to his companion and dragging his goblet closer to himself.
Then, noticing everyone’s attention rivet to Bey, Yong Soo turned his head to the brunet, raising his eyebrows a bit.
Francis had to resist the urge to laugh at the other captains enthusiasm. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the others apparent surprise and the wide grin the Asian captain was sporting. He tapped his fingers on the table and tried to guess what was going through his companions head as he waited for some sort of acknowledgment....wait, did that hair have a face. The Frenchman tugged at his collar, couldn't be, it was probably too hot in the room
“I know, they're much more imposing when they're the only people in a room” He glanced down at the proffered sleeve and-after a moments consideration,-grabbed what he assumed to be the Korean mans hand, shaking it firmly.“A pleasure of course, Monsieur Yong Soo. Captain Francis Bonnefoy, and my ship is the lovely Dame Amour”
Something about Yong Soo's speech pattern seemed strangely familiar. But, before he could try to place it, or strike up a proper conversation the room started moving. Servants appearing as if out of then air as everyone's attention shifted to the new comer. Bey-he'd heard much about the man, but had never actually met him before. Somehow he didn't seem nearly as interesting as some of the others in the room, a bit of a disappointment actually.
Winking at the girl who'd poured his wine he picked the cup up and took a sip. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever tasted...not that this was much of a surprise. Following the unspoken cue that the other pirates seemed to have taken he slipped his free hand into the inner pocket on his jacket, drawing the map piece from the place above his heart and slipping it into the place on the table. He bobbed his head in his companions direction before looking around the room to see who would admit to calling what was apparently an unplanned meeting.
Renato blinked, a sudden moment of understanding on his face at Bey's words. "Ahh... so that's what all the noise was about." With a faint kick, he had Arthur's attention on him. "Well, kiddo. Be ready."
"You don't have to tell me that." Arthur muttered under his breath, sending a glare at the Italian who only chuckled for his answer. Thinking quickly, he counted up what weapons he had on his person - woefully few since he was searched at the door - and wished they'd let him keep his cane.
There were mutters around the table as Bey paused for a moment, waiting to hear if anyone confessed. A tall man, about halfway down the table and dressed in Indian attire suddenly stood up from his chair. All attention turned to him, some expecting a confession - when the man choked and fell forward onto the table... dead.
He wasn't the only one - men and women around the table began to slump, choke or scream as they realized that they were dying. At the same moment, the doors burst open and a few pirates dressed as guards sauntered in, looking confident that the 'battle' was over and fully expecting everyone to be dead.
Renato swore softly under his breath as the men and women he'd known in this lifetime - stole with, celebrated with - started dying left right and center. Very few people at the table were still alive and panicking.
Eyes widening in realization, Arthur's head turned back and forth, before knocking his cup away. All who were dead had drunk most of their wine. "It's poison!" he yelped, knocking away Renato's as well in case the old coot got any stupid ideas.
With a quick grab, Renato's map pieces were back in hiding and with a hop, he was up on the table heading for the other side - straight for the fake guards. "Everyone still alive, come on! We gotta get out of here!" That didn't stop him from bending over to grab the map piece from the nearest dead person before he vaulted back off the other side, heading straight for the first of the four men.
Copying the motion, Arthur grabbed the map piece from the corpse on his other side - they wouldn't be needing it anymore. Turning again, there were two people still alive to his other side. Surprisingly, he recognized both. One was that frenchman he'd met on that horrible mission and the other was the asian man from the other night.
"Hello gents - about time we got the hell out of here, right?"
Yong Soo stared for a moment, his brown eyes wide in shock, as people began to die around him. ‘Not again, da ze…’
Wait, no time to think like that. Yong Soo’s eyes hardened, and he forced himself from the chair, donkey-kicking an approaching attacker and pulling out the fans from his sash. The guards up front hadn’t believed they were weapons, so they weren’t taken from him. Yong Soo took a moment to thank God for the ignorance of people from the West, knocking over his wine and scooping up his map-piece, tucking it into his collar.
“Get up, da ze! We gotta fight!” He turned to look at his companion, and was alarmed to see that he was a bit paler than he was a moment ago, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “Oh no,” Yong Soo’s eyes saddened, before he scooped up the goblet and fiercely threw it in the face of the recovering pirate, knocking him flat out, “And I hope you choke, da ze!” he yelled, before turning to Arthur.
He blinked a bit, feeling a strange sense of double-deja-vouz, before swiftly nodding and dragging Francis to his feet and scooping up the map-pieces, stuffing them in the Frenchman’s pockets, “Ye, but, he drank a little, da ze, so, I dunno if he’s going to make it.” The thought of leaving the Frenchman behind never crossed the Asian's mind.
Francis's brain didn't really register what was going on around him. Everything seemed to have slowed considerably and the room had grown inexplicably hotter, spinning and tilting wildly. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and wondered if anyone would mind him laying his head on the table-no one seemed to care about the other captains who'd done so...
'Fight? Wha-?' He blinked at the Korean man in confusion. The floor didn't seem to agree with him as he was pulled up and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself against the table. Really, laying down was sounding like a really good idea...or maybe it wasn't, what with the way everyne was running about...what in the world was going on?
"'oh dran wha?"(Who drank what?) The frenchman frowned, turning to see who Yong Soo was talking to. A british man, who he recognized from...somewhere...had mateialized as if out of the air."S' we mee' a'n~(So we met again~)"
"Bloody..." he muttered, trailing off into unintelligible curses under his breath. A part of him was concerned for the other, hoping that he wasn't going to die. But, deeper down, a strange part of him was telling him that it served the wino right to die from drink. He paused, confusion on his face for only a moment. Wino? Since when did he call the Frenchman such a childish (and yet familiar...) name?
Quickly shaking those odd thoughts from his head as it wasn't the right time or place to have odd senses of deja vu, he marched over to one side of the french captain. "Let me guess," he addressed the asian man, "you were about to suggest that we don't leave him here and escape ourselves?" his lips quirked as he spoke dryly.
On the other side of the table, Renato spared a quick glance, looking for Arthur. Usually the younger man would be right at his side like in the good old days. But there he was, with that young asian man with the bright smile and a very sick looking Frenchman. Casually elbowing a guard in the face, he let his eyes travel further up the table. Bey - was Bey alright? He hadn't seen him drink any of the wine but...
Ah, that explained it, he thought. There was Bey, standing calmly at the head of the table, watching the proceedings rather boredly for a moment before walking around the table, picking up map-pieces that hadn't been claimed. Casual as if he was certain no one would notice - or that no one would survive to tell the tale. His eyes narrowed instantly - so their head was a traitor? Well... baring his teeth in a the grin that conquered most of europe, Renato moved away from the doorway to go after the man.
He had no patience at all for traitors...
Yong Soo looked up from where he was attempting to half-support half-lift the Frenchman, and then nodded vigorously, a firm look in his eyes, “No one without a fight, da ze.” He turned towards the Frenchman, happy that he seemed at least able to slur. Another pirate rushed towards them, and, with a casual glance up, the Korean flat-kicked him in the throat, toppling him, before looking to the doorway, pointing his sleeve, “That, and, we need to stay to help your friend.”
As the other turned to look, the Korean’s eyes caught sight of where the bigger man was heading—that strange Bey person. Who was going around the table, and…Yong Soo’s jaw dropped as he realized the council head was stealing pieces from the corpses, before he scowled at the blatant treachery. “That dirty son of a bandit…” He handed Francis to Iggy on impulse, hands going for the fans as he made his way to Bey, teeth grinding.
“Oi, da ze! What do you think you’re doing?”
It occurred to him that something was very, very wrong here. From what he could piece together he'd drank...something...and they were being attacked...and most of the people in the room were either dead or getting there. It'd be nice if his mind would catch up with what was happening....he could at least try to be a bit more useful though.
"Aways 's men Ang'ter-'m e'o sh'ld b 'rt wit ur a'ways tryin 't ge rid o 'meh" (Always so mean Angleterre, my ego should be hurt with you always trying to get rid of me) he half succeeded at the smirk he'd been attempting, giving the Blondie man a somewhat lopsided grin. Francis attempted to drag himself out of the undignified, rag doll like position, still leaning heavily on the British man.
He glanced at the guard coming toward them (he's been across the room a second ago, when had he-) "'W sh tek car 'o ou nw frens non?~" (We should take are of our new friends, no?)
The time for the meeting arrived. Up on the highest level of the cavern, along the back end of the cave, the Captain's Room was carved directly into the wall. Shaped in irony of a chapel, the front of the building had a tall tower that reached all the way up to the ceiling - and in place of a cross, there was a skull and cross bone.
The inside of the building was much the same as the outside - the large circular table at the centre of the main room was carved up out of the ground as were the chairs that surrounded it - but with how large it was and how many chairs there were, people could pick and choose where they sat and there would still be more than enough spare room.
Sitting already at the table, Arthur watched other captains enter cautiously. And with good reason, he supposed as a meeting between all the captains had never been called - at least in his lifetime. Pirates were... well, normally they were self-sufficient and too busy stabbing each other in the back to have a need for Libertalia. Resting his head on one hand as he watched the table slowly fill, an odd feeling of dread starting to build in him.
Something told him this wasn't going to end well...
Sauntering in by himself, Renato had every eye on him as he was the sole person in the room who was blatantly wearing his map piece. It shone brightly off his chest as he'd decided to leave his shirt mostly unbuttoned (also showing off his muscles). Chuckling darkly at the wary looks he got from many of the men and women in the room, his eyes lit up when they landed on a certain fluffy blond head. "Arthur~" he called as he dashed forward, getting the green-eyed mans attention as he claimed the chair to his right.
Claiming his mandatory kiss from the disgruntled, blushing blond, he settled back, cheerful grin plastered on his face as he stared down every uneasy glance sent his way. Snorting, he turned to the curious gaze of his former crew man. "I'm the oldest person here and yet they all look so... afraid." the grin turned rather predatory.
"...You know something, don't you?" Arthur questioned, trying to will away the guilty blush that bloomed every time the older man decided to do something odd - like kiss him (and hoping to god that Afonso never found out about his former... fling).
The amused glint in his eye dimmed as he quickly glanced around the table again. "Not really... but I think something's going to happen. And we probably won't like it." he turned a serious gaze on Arthur. "Just be ready."
Yong Soo wandered into the chapel, his ivory sleeves idly waving at his sides and a broad, bright grin dominating his features. The Korean, ever conscious of appearances, had felt a particular need today to go that extra mile on this, his primary debut as a bonafide sea captain.
His jeonbok was a shimmering ocean blue, the draconic crest of his ship painstakingly stitched upon his back in coal black thread that matched his baji. The undershirt beneath was a creamy white, not stark enough to be blinding but fine enough to gleam, embossed dragons lacing the ink-colored ends of his sleeves as an added talisman. Over his head, the Korean placed a bright blue bandana, covering all but his bangs and Sang Ki, the little hair merrily beaming as it bobbed with the Asian's steps.
Yong Soo looked around the chapel, humming lightly as he catalogued each speculative look sent his way, not making eye contact with any of the other captains but noting them all the same. There was a lot of curiosity in those glances, most of them wondering what the devil he was doing there.
The experience was oddly familiar, Yong Soo thought, as though he had spent many, many times gathering in council with a large group of important people. There was even a strange sense of familiarity with some of them, at least in appearance, as though the Asian had met them in a dream once.
'It must be fate, da ze,' the Asian thought, smiling brightly, 'I'm meant to be here.' Finding a seat a few chairs down from the man with fuzzy eyebrows and his cheerful (if intimidating) companion, the Korean turned towards the doors, cooly and confidently adjusting his sleeves and resting his elbows on the table, continuing his humming and watching the others come in.
Francis found himself buzzing with an odd, barely contained excitement as he strolled into the chapel. Hearing about meetings at Libertalia was interesting-but to actually be attending one...well that was just too good. He found more reasons to like this captain business everyday.
He stopped in the doorway, straightening his jacket and reaching into his pocket to get a ribbon and pull his hair out of his face. Sure, the blonde knew that he always looked impressive, but it was always good to make sure. Tying a bow with practiced efficiency he used his brief pause as an excuse to survey the room.
It was much more impressive than he'd expected-elegantly carved chairs, the massive, strangely made table-he'd underestimated the decorating skills of his peers (even if it was a bit dark and dramatic for his tastes.)
Seated at various intervals were-what he assumed to be-the other captains. Most of whom he didn't recognize, and several he knew as passing acquaintances. Most of the rooms attention seemed to be subtly directed at a tall dark haired man and his companion who had disturbingly bushy eyebrows. The french captain considered the pair for a moment before writing the latter off as some kind of lackey and deciding that it would be in his best interest to befriend the former at the first possible opportunity.
He noted, with mild irritation, that he couldn't see either of his best friends in the gathered group. Seemed like fate had decided it was time for him to start making some new connections.
Didn't take him long to single some one out. Tall, elegantly (though somewhat exotically) dressed and with a reasonably friendly smile on his face, the man seemed to be getting the same questioning, suspicious glances that he himself was receiving 'a person after my own heart'
”Interesting lot here, oui?” He commented, sliding into the empty chair on the other captains left.
At last, a good majority of the seats were filled - and when the Head Captain, one Jean Bey (brown haired, blue eyed and undoubtably french by his accent) entered, followed by a line of servants bearing flasks of wine and cups, placing one in front of every captain. As the wine flowed into the cups, Jean held up his arm, frilled sleeve sliding half-way down and revealing a bracelet with a glowing golden gem clasped in it. Removing the gem, he placed it in a small groove on the top of the table, setting it in place.
Nearly as one, most of the other captains removed their map piece from somewhere hidden on their person and placed it in the groove in front of them and soon the table was bathed in a faintly glowing green light as the pieces reacted to each other. "Well, gentlemen, gentlewomen..." Jean started out softly, staring around the whole table.
"Hey... where's your piece?" Renato murmured, ignoring the Head Captain as he leaned towards Arthur, who hadn't reached for the map piece he knew the younger man had. His own three rested in a small pile in front of him, getting envious looks from the few men who sat across the table from him.
"... it's hidden away, quite safely out of reach." Arthur mumbled back, not taking his eyes away from the man standing in front of them, even as he reached for his cup of wine. His thoughts drifted to Afonso, who was very much away from this meeting - as he was on a sky-pirates crew and most likely didn't even have an idea that this place even existed.
Bringing the wine to his lips, something smelled... off.
"I would like to make an inquiry as to who called this meeting without first informing me." Jean continued on. All attention was suddenly on him as the older captains all knew that as the leader of Libertalia and Head Captain over them all, Bey would be the one to call meetings. He was the only one with full access to the signal that called them all here.
Yong Soo turned his head up to the Frenchman next to him, his hands pausing in their fidgeting as the Asian’s smile broadened. ‘Wow! A real pirate captain like me, da ze!’ the Korean took a half second to look the other over, nodding slightly in approval, ‘And a snappy dresser, too!’ Yong Soo then managed to corral his enthusiasm enough to register that the French captain had asked him a question, and he nodded again, more fervently, causing Sang Ki to bob a bit.
“Ye! I’ve never seen so many sea captains in the same place, da ze—well, outside of a ship-dock.” Yong Soo was about to clasp his hands together and bow his head to the other, but, remembering that he was in mostly Western company, he offered his sleeve instead, smiling, “My name’s Yong Soo, and I’m the captain of the Lucky Dragon. We both originated from Korea, da ze~”
Yong Soo tilted his head, looking the other over again. Something about the Frenchman’s appearance provoked a strange fuzzy feeling in the Asian’s mind, like two cloths overlapping and dragging across each other. In the resulting friction, Yong Soo was left with both a distinct unexplainable friendliness towards the European, and the whisperings of a name.
What that name was, Yong Soo did not immediately figure out—the Korean’s attention was soon swiftly captured by the entrance of the Head Captain. He withdrew his hand from Francis’ as a servant poured them both glasses and set them down in front of them. The Korean looked at his wine, blinking a bit, before looking around the room.
Seeing the other captain’s removing their map pieces, Yong Soo hesitantly lifted his arm to his neck, making a show of diving through his sleeve. In actuality, he was slipping the jewel out of its real hiding place in his collar and into the fingers of his other hand. No need for everyone to know his secrets, after all. Setting the gem down into its appropriate groove, the Korean looked up again, smiling pleasantly to his companion and dragging his goblet closer to himself.
Then, noticing everyone’s attention rivet to Bey, Yong Soo turned his head to the brunet, raising his eyebrows a bit.
Francis had to resist the urge to laugh at the other captains enthusiasm. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the others apparent surprise and the wide grin the Asian captain was sporting. He tapped his fingers on the table and tried to guess what was going through his companions head as he waited for some sort of acknowledgment....wait, did that hair have a face. The Frenchman tugged at his collar, couldn't be, it was probably too hot in the room
“I know, they're much more imposing when they're the only people in a room” He glanced down at the proffered sleeve and-after a moments consideration,-grabbed what he assumed to be the Korean mans hand, shaking it firmly.“A pleasure of course, Monsieur Yong Soo. Captain Francis Bonnefoy, and my ship is the lovely Dame Amour”
Something about Yong Soo's speech pattern seemed strangely familiar. But, before he could try to place it, or strike up a proper conversation the room started moving. Servants appearing as if out of then air as everyone's attention shifted to the new comer. Bey-he'd heard much about the man, but had never actually met him before. Somehow he didn't seem nearly as interesting as some of the others in the room, a bit of a disappointment actually.
Winking at the girl who'd poured his wine he picked the cup up and took a sip. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever tasted...not that this was much of a surprise. Following the unspoken cue that the other pirates seemed to have taken he slipped his free hand into the inner pocket on his jacket, drawing the map piece from the place above his heart and slipping it into the place on the table. He bobbed his head in his companions direction before looking around the room to see who would admit to calling what was apparently an unplanned meeting.
Renato blinked, a sudden moment of understanding on his face at Bey's words. "Ahh... so that's what all the noise was about." With a faint kick, he had Arthur's attention on him. "Well, kiddo. Be ready."
"You don't have to tell me that." Arthur muttered under his breath, sending a glare at the Italian who only chuckled for his answer. Thinking quickly, he counted up what weapons he had on his person - woefully few since he was searched at the door - and wished they'd let him keep his cane.
There were mutters around the table as Bey paused for a moment, waiting to hear if anyone confessed. A tall man, about halfway down the table and dressed in Indian attire suddenly stood up from his chair. All attention turned to him, some expecting a confession - when the man choked and fell forward onto the table... dead.
He wasn't the only one - men and women around the table began to slump, choke or scream as they realized that they were dying. At the same moment, the doors burst open and a few pirates dressed as guards sauntered in, looking confident that the 'battle' was over and fully expecting everyone to be dead.
Renato swore softly under his breath as the men and women he'd known in this lifetime - stole with, celebrated with - started dying left right and center. Very few people at the table were still alive and panicking.
Eyes widening in realization, Arthur's head turned back and forth, before knocking his cup away. All who were dead had drunk most of their wine. "It's poison!" he yelped, knocking away Renato's as well in case the old coot got any stupid ideas.
With a quick grab, Renato's map pieces were back in hiding and with a hop, he was up on the table heading for the other side - straight for the fake guards. "Everyone still alive, come on! We gotta get out of here!" That didn't stop him from bending over to grab the map piece from the nearest dead person before he vaulted back off the other side, heading straight for the first of the four men.
Copying the motion, Arthur grabbed the map piece from the corpse on his other side - they wouldn't be needing it anymore. Turning again, there were two people still alive to his other side. Surprisingly, he recognized both. One was that frenchman he'd met on that horrible mission and the other was the asian man from the other night.
"Hello gents - about time we got the hell out of here, right?"
Yong Soo stared for a moment, his brown eyes wide in shock, as people began to die around him. ‘Not again, da ze…’
Wait, no time to think like that. Yong Soo’s eyes hardened, and he forced himself from the chair, donkey-kicking an approaching attacker and pulling out the fans from his sash. The guards up front hadn’t believed they were weapons, so they weren’t taken from him. Yong Soo took a moment to thank God for the ignorance of people from the West, knocking over his wine and scooping up his map-piece, tucking it into his collar.
“Get up, da ze! We gotta fight!” He turned to look at his companion, and was alarmed to see that he was a bit paler than he was a moment ago, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “Oh no,” Yong Soo’s eyes saddened, before he scooped up the goblet and fiercely threw it in the face of the recovering pirate, knocking him flat out, “And I hope you choke, da ze!” he yelled, before turning to Arthur.
He blinked a bit, feeling a strange sense of double-deja-vouz, before swiftly nodding and dragging Francis to his feet and scooping up the map-pieces, stuffing them in the Frenchman’s pockets, “Ye, but, he drank a little, da ze, so, I dunno if he’s going to make it.” The thought of leaving the Frenchman behind never crossed the Asian's mind.
Francis's brain didn't really register what was going on around him. Everything seemed to have slowed considerably and the room had grown inexplicably hotter, spinning and tilting wildly. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and wondered if anyone would mind him laying his head on the table-no one seemed to care about the other captains who'd done so...
'Fight? Wha-?' He blinked at the Korean man in confusion. The floor didn't seem to agree with him as he was pulled up and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself against the table. Really, laying down was sounding like a really good idea...or maybe it wasn't, what with the way everyne was running about...what in the world was going on?
"'oh dran wha?"(Who drank what?) The frenchman frowned, turning to see who Yong Soo was talking to. A british man, who he recognized from...somewhere...had mateialized as if out of the air."S' we mee' a'n~(So we met again~)"
"Bloody..." he muttered, trailing off into unintelligible curses under his breath. A part of him was concerned for the other, hoping that he wasn't going to die. But, deeper down, a strange part of him was telling him that it served the wino right to die from drink. He paused, confusion on his face for only a moment. Wino? Since when did he call the Frenchman such a childish (and yet familiar...) name?
Quickly shaking those odd thoughts from his head as it wasn't the right time or place to have odd senses of deja vu, he marched over to one side of the french captain. "Let me guess," he addressed the asian man, "you were about to suggest that we don't leave him here and escape ourselves?" his lips quirked as he spoke dryly.
On the other side of the table, Renato spared a quick glance, looking for Arthur. Usually the younger man would be right at his side like in the good old days. But there he was, with that young asian man with the bright smile and a very sick looking Frenchman. Casually elbowing a guard in the face, he let his eyes travel further up the table. Bey - was Bey alright? He hadn't seen him drink any of the wine but...
Ah, that explained it, he thought. There was Bey, standing calmly at the head of the table, watching the proceedings rather boredly for a moment before walking around the table, picking up map-pieces that hadn't been claimed. Casual as if he was certain no one would notice - or that no one would survive to tell the tale. His eyes narrowed instantly - so their head was a traitor? Well... baring his teeth in a the grin that conquered most of europe, Renato moved away from the doorway to go after the man.
He had no patience at all for traitors...
Yong Soo looked up from where he was attempting to half-support half-lift the Frenchman, and then nodded vigorously, a firm look in his eyes, “No one without a fight, da ze.” He turned towards the Frenchman, happy that he seemed at least able to slur. Another pirate rushed towards them, and, with a casual glance up, the Korean flat-kicked him in the throat, toppling him, before looking to the doorway, pointing his sleeve, “That, and, we need to stay to help your friend.”
As the other turned to look, the Korean’s eyes caught sight of where the bigger man was heading—that strange Bey person. Who was going around the table, and…Yong Soo’s jaw dropped as he realized the council head was stealing pieces from the corpses, before he scowled at the blatant treachery. “That dirty son of a bandit…” He handed Francis to Iggy on impulse, hands going for the fans as he made his way to Bey, teeth grinding.
“Oi, da ze! What do you think you’re doing?”
It occurred to him that something was very, very wrong here. From what he could piece together he'd drank...something...and they were being attacked...and most of the people in the room were either dead or getting there. It'd be nice if his mind would catch up with what was happening....he could at least try to be a bit more useful though.
"Aways 's men Ang'ter-'m e'o sh'ld b 'rt wit ur a'ways tryin 't ge rid o 'meh" (Always so mean Angleterre, my ego should be hurt with you always trying to get rid of me) he half succeeded at the smirk he'd been attempting, giving the Blondie man a somewhat lopsided grin. Francis attempted to drag himself out of the undignified, rag doll like position, still leaning heavily on the British man.
He glanced at the guard coming toward them (he's been across the room a second ago, when had he-) "'W sh tek car 'o ou nw frens non?~" (We should take are of our new friends, no?)
