Board Thread:Morgan Cinder/@comment-24479578-20160828042847/@comment-24479578-20160828042915

Edited by HitomiHyuga 16:20, July 8, 2016
 * HitomiHyuga Listen & Read  The day had been a stormy one. Rain and harsh winds had caused the sea to become rough and choppy causing the ship to rock more than it normally would have. Lightning streaked across the sky causing loud crashes of thunder to echo throughout the hull of the ship. Still the men continued to be attentive to their duties.    A sail had come unfurled in the harsh winds and flapped against the wind that threatened to tear the fabric from the mast. “Grab hold of the ropes, men! Pull hard and tie it down!” The sound of the men pulling against the wind was only the prelude to the shouts of “Get your firm footing!” Fast steps were made while they tried to regain their footing on the deck that had become slick from the combination of rain and the sea as the waves crashed against the side of the ship causing it to splash over the deck. Painfully slow, the sails were tired off and secured. One by one, the men crawled along the deck to make it back inside once the perimeter had been secured. However their work was not done.    Below deck, the sound of pumps was heard as pairs of men were at the manual pumps. One lifting up while the other pressed down on the water pumps to syphon the water from the belly of the hull yet more water came through. “Keep it going men!” said an older man that held a face of gray, black and white hair. The lines on his face were defined with age while knowing eyes looked to the men that were positioned at the four pumps. “There has yet to be a storm that this ship doesn’t get through and I’ll be damned to see it in my lifetime. Put your backs into it!” Each of the eight men pulled and pushed in a rhythm that seemed to not end. When one man began to grow tired, another replaced him while not missing a beat.    A well oiled machine would be the best analogy of the way things worked when the weather was at its worst. With or without the orders of the Vice Admiral, the ship would be maintained and kept afloat all the while still maintaining it’s course.   <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;"> <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">From the crow’s nest on the top side of the mast, the lookout decked out in his storm gear of a slicker, rain pants and a large floppy rain hat that was firmly tied under his chin, looked through a set of binoculars to the outskirts of the waves that threatened to capsize the ship with every crash against the surf. Off in the distance the lightning once more crashed causing the sky to light up just enough that he could see before him. The jagged silhouette of Namakura Island came into view with a smile and a sigh of relief to this man. Taking the binoculars from his eyes, he turned and held firmly to the side of the crow’s nest while shouting into a Den Den Mushi. “LAND OFF THE STARBOARD BOW! SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST MARK!” Hearing the directions and their heading, the Helmsman held tightly to the wheel as he fought the rough current of the ocean and the force that its anger was trying to unfurl into the ship. Soon his fight would be over and they would be in a harbor where his arms would be able to rest. <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;"> <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;"> <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The time continued to roll on torturously slow for those that had to endure the weather and sea while others continued to attend to their duties about the rest of the ship. For those that didn’t have to deal with the ordeals of the surf and storm, it felt only to be thirty minutes more until the final call of “WEIGH ANCHOR!” was heard then followed by the splash of the anchor hitting the water. The ship still rocked from the heavy waves but not as bad as it had been. It was now in the shelter of the harbor that the rain pelted down on the deck of the ship. The waves were heard crashing against the shore while the thunder and lightning continued. A crack over the loudspeaker was heard then a voice making an announcement. The crew listened up to see what was to be said. “Cinder. Report to the Vice Admiral's office. Repeat. Cinder. Report to the Vice Admiral’s office.” The announcement ended with a click and once more the movement of the crew continued. Once they knew it wasn’t meant for them, there was no further need to listen and they went about their duties as usual.
 * HitomiHyuga <p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Sitting in the middle of her bed, Morgan had been playing with her bottom lip while her eyes moved over the pages of a book she had ‘acquired’ on cyborgs and cybernetics that had been put together by the World’s Government. Pages and pages of notes, diagrams and instruction was all recorded in black and white for her to read and absorb while she absent mindedly plucked at the place on the side of her bottom lip where her piercing had been. The hole was still felt though it had been healing and soon would be nothing more than a faint scar just on the outside of her lip. Her brows furrowed in concentration while the words on the page became images in her mind. Parts, mechanisms, wires, joints, bone and organs all merged together with the fine tuning to ensure that it all fit together without an ounce of imbalance. Laying back holding the book to her chest, Morgan stared at the ceiling of her room. Her mind filled with images and diagrams. Robotic hands and skeletal structures made of metals that were unknown to the East Blue Isles and tougher than diamond. Were such things truly there to be used?

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Closing her eyes a moment while the ship continued to rock the image of Seven came to her mind. His smiling face. The way his hair fell. His voice. The thoughts caused her to smile and almost grip the book to her chest like a most treasured item. “He’ll never forgive you…” The words a crash through her small fantasy and destroy it as if hit with a thousand cannon balls all at once. A sigh left her lips as she marked her place in the book and sat back up. “And working for Stratos isn’t going to make things any better either. Especially if there was something that happened to him because of the man.” She made a small chuckle sound coming to her feet and walking to her dresser where she opened up her third drawer and pushed aside the mock back panel to hide the book once more. “Even if Seven could forgive you, there would be no sense to this craziness that has flooded your mind. It wouldn’t work out for you.” The voice rang through her mind, cold and cynical. Prying on her most intimate thoughts and stagnating her vivid dreams causing them to be no more than a distant throb that would settle in her heart and stay there. Closing the drawer after placing the mock back in place once more, she turned and leaned against the dresser while the sound of the storm outside filled her ears. It was better than listening to the voice within her mind that held no remorse for her. It wanted things that made Morgan shudder and cringe when she thought about them. Yet it was a side of her that she couldn’t ignore. Like looking into a mirror and seeing the opposite of who she was staring back at her, this darker side laid just under the surface of her mind and skin waiting for the right time to come to the surface and take over once more. The sudden call of her name over the Den Den Mushi snapped her out of her thoughts and caused her to turn her head trying to listen to the instruction. She dropped her head to her chest and took a deep breath. Time to go once more.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The steps of the young woman were crisp against the flooring when each step caused the clack of her heels to echo slightly. As always, she was dressed as Stratos had wished her to be. Long, calf length dress with a slit up the right side that allowed her to move without being confined or ruining the dress. Her arms swayed slightly causing the silver bangles on her wrists to jingle softly while in her ears were small diamond earrings. The golden strands of her hair fell around her shoulders and down her back with a gentle wave to it causing it to shimmer as each light caught it while she walked by.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Walking up to the office door, she rapped against the wood and expected to hear the voice of her employer. He was normally prompt with that sort of thing. A moment went by. Then another. Morgan’s face tilted with questions forming. Then she rapped again. “Stratos.” She said loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. Why would she have been called down here if no one was in his office? The thought crossed her mind of the crew finally starting to play tricks on her while a sneer crossed her lips. Oh she would make them pay if that was going to start happening. Let Stratos find out what she had done after that. She would gladly take his wrath for that. The sinister laugh in her mind started up once more then abruptly stopped when the door flew open and the ship’s Captain stood before her. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Please come in, Ms. Cinder.” Looking almost startled, Morgan could do nothing more than nod and walk into the office while the Captain closed the door behind her and ushered her into the room more. Holding his hand out towards a seat on the other side of the desk, he sat behind it  and looked to her while she walked towards the chair and sat. Her hands folded in her lap, she looked to him with a slight tilt of her head. “Don’t you have your own office, Captain?” Her brow raised while questioning him. A nod was given to her by the man while he sat forward and looked to her. “I do. However, this is the best place to speak to you seeing as the information that you are about to be given is not to be heard by others. The Vice Admiral's room is the most sound proof room on the entire ship.” Morgan nodded and looked to the man. “Well, what is it than?”

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The Captain looked to her and spoke with a slight scratchy voice. Like a man that had been smoking a harsh tobacco for much too long. “Ms. Cinder. What do you know of Namacura Island?” The man’s piercing grey eyes stared at Morgan as if he would bore through her with just his gaze. Shaking her head, she met his gaze. “Nothing. Why do you ask?” The man nodded to her and stood from the chair. Walking to a bin of rolled up maps, he’d look through them until he found what he was looking for and walked back to the desk. Rolling open the map, he’d point to an inlet just off the west side of the island. “This is where we are currently. Just to the west of the shore line of Namacura Island. Known to most as the Land of Poverty. You are going ashore. It seems that there is some business that needs to be attended to.” Morgan looked to him with a bit of confusion crossing her face. “If there’s business to be taken care of, then send your own men. I don’t deal with affairs of the Marines.” The Captain began laughing to Morgan’s surprise and sat back down in the chair. “Oh this has nothing to do with the Marines. Hense why you are here, young lady.” Hearing the way he called her ‘young lady’ made her feel like she was being scolded by an Elder. She had turned her head from him to keep her face from flushing in embarrassment. The Captain reached into his inside breast pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to her. “This was left in my care to give to you specifically once we reached Namacura Island.” Morgan looked to him with a sideways glance while she reached for the paper and took it. Opening it up, she began to read the contents.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ms. Cinder. I need you to take care of a meeting with some individuals that I think you will find of interest to you. I have some business to attend to that is of more importance. Speak with my little birdies once you’re on shore. They will direct you as to where you need to go. - Stratos”

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Folding the paper back up, Morgan sighed softly and stood looking to the map of the island. “He sure likes to send me on wild goose chases.” The Captain behind the desk only chuckled while he leaned back in the chair and looked to her. “Our dear Vice Admiral wouldn’t assign things to you, Ms. Cinder, if he didn’t feel that you were able to take care of it in a timely and professional fashion.” The thought that went through Morgan’s mind was far from what the man had said. He knew that she would take care of things to ensure that no one would be alive if things went bad. Especially after the incident with the Arrista family. It seemed that this would be more like training than anything else. He was determined to see just how far he could push her, she was almost sure of it. Then again, what was she going to do? “You will find that you are on this one on your own. Since it has nothing to do with the Marines, you can’t ask us for assistance. I will have the gang plank dropped and ready to go for when you depart. Other than that, good luck to you, Ms. Cinder.” Morgan nodded and stood. “Thank you.” She whispered as she made her way out of the office and closed the door behind her.

<p style="margin-bottom:0px!important;"> <span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Her mind began to swim with things that were needed for her. Ammunition. A few fast acting poisons. She sighed and made her way to her room and closed the door behind her. On her vanity rested her flintlock in its holster along with the box of ammunition that she had taken. It seemed that she was able to use what she needed without any recourse. Strapping her flintlock to her right leg, she placed the extra rounds in a compartment that was next to it. She had placed a few holders on the strap for syringes to be held. Then again, she only needed one. It would be enough to make her point clear and be left alone. She had left her room and made it to the medical ward where she walked to a locked drawer and removed the key for it from her top. A place that seemed to work rather well for storage for most women. Why it was like that, she didn’t know but there were not many men that were willing to search a woman there. The drawer made a ‘click’ sound as she unlocked it then pulled the drawer open. There were a dozen syringes prepped and ready to go. Each a different color of which she knew well what they were. Taking a greenish one, she slipped it into the holster in the allotted place and sighed a bit. There was enough poison in that one syringe to kill 15 people in the course of one hour. It would work if she truly needed it. Now there was no other reason for her to stay. Sighing softly, she’d leave the med ward. 19:01, July 8, 2016
 * HitomiHyuga <p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The rain hadn’t let up nor had the wind as Morgan stepped out on to the Gang plank with a long duster style jacket on. The Captain had done as he said he would and that was all. However, the Marine at the end of the plank held his hand out to her as she came down towards the lower half of the plank that she had gladly taken and smiled to him in gratitude. With both feet secured on the dock, she looked before her to the area that she was about to embark on.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The structure of the buildings reminded her of an over crowded area with how small they were. Though the actual style of the buildings were reminiscent of ancient times, they had come to look worn and in desperate need of repair. Many of the buildings that were near the shore line were tilted causing Morgan to restrain herself from tilting her head to the side to get a better view of them. ‘What could have caused these buildings to look as they do? Shouldn’t someone take care of them so others can have a place to live?’ She thought to herself while she moved down the pier to the wharf. The boards creaked and squealed beneath her feet as she walked down the center of the pier. With each creak of a board, a cold chill ran over her spine and caused her skin to prickle with goose flesh. There was no reason for her to be afraid of falling through the pier. She could swim well enough. Perhaps it was a combination of the day and the way the island felt to her that gave her a spook that she wasn’t expecting. Whatever the combination was, it caused her eyes to keep moving and gave her a heightened sense of what was going on around her.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Then there was the feeling that she was being followed. The idea made her chuckle to herself mildly. She was only just now on the wharf and the only thing behind her was the ship she had come off of. The thought laid claim to her mind while the surf continued to wash up against the shore and crash against the stone wall holding the wharf in place. “Nani?” Her head turned quickly to face the dock that she had just walked from. Her eyes looking upon the choppy surface for only a moment while her lips pressed together before she turned her head once more and continued to walk up the stairs towards the village path. From the side of one of the dock supports slid thin fingers down into the water once more only to then have the sinking of something be covered over by the sound of the churning sea.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Taking hold of the collar of the jacket, she pulled it up around her head and neck. This place gave her the creeps. ‘The sooner I find this meeting, the better.’ Her thoughts walked through her mind while the crisp emerald hues surveyed over the village that seemed to have just started. Standing there for a moment, her head tilted a moment while she continued to take in the terrain. From the dock, the place seemed to be one of poverty and ruin. Homes and buildings run down and left to the weather and time to claim for their own. Yet here before her very eyes were places that had been kept up and taken care of. Had her eyes deceived her? A streak of lightning lit up the sky while a crash of thunder caused the ground to rumble beneath her feet. Once more her eyes couldn’t believe what they saw as step after step she took towards the building to her left. On a flyer board she had noticed that instead of the normal flyers for wanted pirates, there was nothing but local news. ‘How odd… are they not interested in the bounty for certain pirates?’ Her thoughts were kept to herself while she continued to walk towards the center of town.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">From the corner of her eye, she saw the movement of a patron leaving the local tavern. Stopping for a moment, she watched the doors swing open and a scruffy and worn looking man walk from the place with a vest being the only thing to keep his shoulders and back covered from the storm that had chosen to plague this island. Standing in the middle of the street, she watched in silence. Her eyes widened as a gasp caught her breath. Quickly she covered her mouth as her emerald hues stared at the back of the man’s vest. ‘It can’t be…’ She turned to face the opposite direction as quickly as she could her eyes to the ground while she waited for the moment of shock to leave her. Daring to look up once more, the image was seen again and again. Tattoos. Vests. Arm bands. All dancing across her vision from her standing point in the center of this town’s main road. All of the images the same. The same image flashed in her mind as a memory. The sound of gun shots echoed in her mind and rivaled the sound of the rolling thunder that came to her ears. Her hand clenched over her lips to keep her from screaming or making any other sound. Then the final gun shot as she watched the leader of these men fall within her mind. The same insignia flashed from her memory while her eyes saw them before her. They were one in the same. The Dragonfly.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">This was not happening. She just about stumbled over her own feet as she made it over to the tavern the man had just come from. Pushing her way in through the doors, she walked in a state of shock and disbelief to the bar where she sat and stared at the bar top. “What can I get for you, Miss?” The voice caught her attention and drew her from her thoughts for a moment as before her stood a portly man with brown eyes and a balding head. In his hands, he was drying off a mug while he looked to her. Morgan’s mouth fell open as she tried to speak yet nothing came from her lips. She blinked once. Then again. Closed her mouth and looked to the man as if doubting her own abilities now. The man looked to her and tilted his head a moment wondering if she had heard him. “Miss? Can I get something for you to drink?” She had heard him the first time. Coughing a bit, she blinked rapidly for a moment and acted as though she had to clear her throat. She wasn’t going to tell him that she thought she was having visions of ghosts. “Uh.. yeah.. I mean.. Yes. A hot tea with a shot of whisky in it.” She made the request look cheerful with a quick smile lighting up her face and her hands running over her arms. “Should do the trick to take the chill from the storm from my insides.” She let out a nervous laugh that she hoped would deter the man from asking anything else. With a nod, he had turned his back to her and walked to the back to begin with her request.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Morgan let out a breath that she didn’t realize that she had been holding as her eyes once more fell to the bar top. Her ears were filled with the murmurs and buzzing of the patrons socializing with one another while she tried to make sense of what her eyes had seen. “Ye be look’n’ jest like ye mum, ye do.” The words brought Morgan once more from her thoughts as she looked around. “Hmm?” There was no one in the seats beside her minus the middle aged man two seats down. Other than that, every one else had been in the seats that surrounded tables while they talked of ships and towns that were pillaged and new voyages that were in the planning stages. ‘Not only are you seeing things, now you’re hearing things.’ She thought to herself as the barkeep came over and handed her the cup of tea with whisky. Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a few coins to pay for her drink and placed it on the bar top. “Thank you.” The barkeep shook his head and pushed back the money to her. “Your drink has been paid for already.” Looking to him in confusion, the keep only pointed to the man that was only a few seats down from her. “He picked up your tab if you wish to thank him.” Picking up the coins, Morgan looked to the man that was not far from her as she placed her hand into her pocket depositing the coins once more. “I thank you. You didn’t hav..” Her words were cut off when the male spoke once more while picking up his pint of ale. “Ah glimps inta me past is what ye be remind’n me of.” Morgan only looked to the man with more confusion as he took a large gulp from his pint and placed it down on the bar top once more. “I am sorry but I don’t under..” He then looked to her causing her words to fall short. A patch over his left eye while the right blazed at her like the darkest depths of the sea. “Ye be ah Cinder. Eh’d place me life on it. Only woman in me life who’s hair sparkled like spun gold an eyes as bright as gems.” Morgan looked to the man as if he was mad. Then again, her mother had been a pirate for a long time.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Morgan lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip. The hot tea mixed with the burn from the whisky caused the chill to be lifted from her almost immediately. Looking to the man once more, Morgan took a deep breath and let it out feeling the burn from the whisky as a welcome reminder that she was not dreaming. “And how do you know of my mother?” The male chuckled while his scarred and rough hands played against the glass of his pint. “There aint ah pirate in these waters of me age who aint felt the burn in their chest or their pockets from Scarlet Cinder. Blasted woman as passionate at the helm as she be in the bed. A lover of men and swindler of them she be. No finer woman in me eyes.” Morgan sat dumbfounded as she sipped at her tea and listened to the man as it seemed he was reminiscing out loud. “No sooner did me eyes lay on her then me gold was good as gone. Impersonating a tavern wench, I was captivated with the sapphires she held for eyes and the gold that dripped over her shoulders in curls. I should have known it was too good to be true. I woke the next morn to be flat broke on me ship with not even ah map to me name.” A smile cracked his lips as he drew up his pint once more. “ Was lucky she left me with a logapose tah guide me on me way.” Taking another gulp from his pint, he looked to Morgan. “Ye look like her. The hair. The fair skin. The high cheek bones. Scarlet be proud of how ye turned out.” Letting out a shaking breath, Morgan took another sip of her tea. “Perhaps.” Her words were soft as she looked to the floor.

<p style="margin-bottom:0px!important;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The man turned back to the bar and continued to speak. “ Eh watched the ship ye came from an’ I knew ye aint one of ‘em. If’n ye do anything in ye life, do it with all ye are. Make ah name fer yeself. One that be rival’n Scarlet’s.” Morgan only nodded as she sipped from her cup and finishing it off. Placing her cup on the bar top, she stood and turned from the bar and the man that had been talking to her. “If you’ll excuse me..” “Oi.” The male said to her causing her to look over her shoulder back at him. “Yes?” He turned and looked to her with a crooked grin and a gleam in his remaining eye. “Ye be expected. Follow the street to the fork in the road. The building in the center of the fork be the town hall. Up the stairs to the second floor, there be an office. Ye can’t miss it.” Morgan nodded and waved a hand up to her shoulder before she once more lifted the collar of her jacket around her ears and neck, preparing for the rain and wind that awaited for her outside. Edited by HitomiHyuga 23:12, July 9, 2016
 * HitomiHyuga <p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The wind caused the rain to attack her face as she walked out of the tavern. Cold and stinging, the rain pelted at her skin with an unforgiving avengence for some deed that she must have done in a past life. Lifting her eyes, she moved along the road farther from the shore and the only piece of what was known to her. ‘I’m expected… how could I be expected when it was a meeting meant for Stratos, not me?’ The thought once more gave her an unsettled feeling. Her steps came to a stop as she lifted her head. Quickly, she turned her head to the left while her eyes fell towards the alleyway between the trinket shop and what looked to be a small restaurant. Silently her eyes scanned the shadows again sure that she had seen something watching her. “Keep it together, Morgan…” She softly cautioned herself with the turn of her head back towards the road and another step being taken on her way to the town office. With the steps being heard, eyes opened from within the shadows and once more continued to follow her movements.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">The walk was not much longer than a total of ten minutes from the tavern that she had gone to, however the rain had matted her hair down to her head while the wind caused pieces of it to sling against her wet skin. Bringing her hand up, she clawed at her face lightly to remove the wet strands from their newly acquired resting place thanks to the wind while she squinted against the wind at the sign that hung just on the awning. “Town Hall” Sighing softly, she looked towards the doors and moved up the steps. Unsure what she was going to find in this place, she held onto the door for only a moment while she closed her eyes. Not sure if she was bracing herself or not, she took another breath and let it out slowly. “Ready or not…” She spoke softly to herself as she took hold of the knob and twisted it slowly with a click being heard and the door swinging open causing the light from within to spill out onto her drenched jacket and shoes. Her heels clacked against the wooden planks as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">From behind the clerk's desk a woman with brown hair and large rimmed reading glasses looked up from her work with a scowl on her face like she had just had the most sour lemon juice in all the known world poured into her mouth and no way of it to go away. Her hair had been pushed up onto the top of her head with enough pins to cause her hair to glisten in a very unnatural way. The glasses had caused the woman to look like her brown eyes were the size of softballs and only held there by the will of the wire rimmed frames. It took all Morgan’s strength not to say something to the fact of her sour expression and softball sized eyes. “Can I help you with something, Miss?” The woman’s voice reminded her of what curdled milk would sound like if it was able to make a sound. There was just nothing appealing to this woman at all. Appealing or welcoming. She felt bad for the man that would have actually married this woman. Perhaps he was deaf and blind. That would have been a blessing in disguise. Forcing a pleasant smile to cross her face, Morgan spoke. “No, Ma’am. I am expected upstairs I believe.” Just as soon as the words left her lips, Morgan and the woman both heard a door click open causing their eyes to look to the top of the stairs. Morgan saw a man’s shoes on the top step and braced herself. “I’ll take it from here, Abby.” The woman shrugged her shoulders and pointed her pen to the stairs. “He’s gotcha. Just wipe your feet on the mat before you go up the carpet. We just had that put in and I’d like to keep it new for a while without everyone tracking dirt and mud all over it.” Morgan just forced her smile to remain on her lips while she slowly wiped her feet on the mat. She was sure that there was still some mud on the underside of her heels but heard the man on the top step shift his weight causing the top step to whine the way old wood does. Long and loud.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Walking up the steps, Morgan untied her jacket and let it hang open showing the classy attire that had become almost a second nature for her. Running her hands through the top of her hair, she tried to fluff up the wet matted hair from her head and make herself a bit more appealing than the drowned rat that she was sure she had looked like. All she could say was that she was grateful that Stratos didn’t have her wear makeup. She would have been a sight more than she had been already.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Morgan looked up to the top of the stairs as she made her way up them. Her eyes flowing up the line of the male’s body that resided on the top step. “You must be Ms. Cinder. I can see the family resemblance.” Morgan smiled politely. Already she was becoming weary of people comparing her to her mother. But she was sure that this was only the start of it. “I am and thank you. You are?” Stepping back, the male held out his hand for her jacket with a smile that looked to be practiced. “Jem. But that is neither here nor there. You are being expected in the next room.” She slid her jacket from her arms and handed it to the man that had called himself Jem and gave a nod. Turning her gaze from him, she looked about the small gathering area. There was a small coat closet with umbrellas hung up as well as rain jackets. Chairs that looked to have been sat in so much the padding had become virtually useless. The paint looked to be chipping and pealing from the walls and ceiling. Pressing her lips together, Morgan held in a chuckle as the thought of the new carpet came to mind. They could afford the carpet but not a few cans of paint? She could see this was a backwards establishment. Of course it made sense to replace the rugs before repainting the walls and ceiling. Made perfect sense. Not.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Her steps were muffled against the rug as she made her way into the room that was intended for her to enter. No sooner did she walk in, did she stifle a startled scream that turned into simply a gasp with her hands being thrust over her mouth in a hurry. Her eyes were wide while before her was the one image that she would have never thought to be real. She thought she had imagined it while in the town but now she knew it to be a reality. The room was set up like a small meeting room with a single oval table in the middle of the room to be surrounded by a total of ten chairs at its edge. In the chairs were a group of people that all looked to her with expressions that varied from surprise and intrigue to amusement and one held the look of anger in his eyes. Behind the man at the far end of the table, was a banner that hung down with a flag that she would know until her dying day. The Dragonfly.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Her surprise must have been more obvious than she had thought when the man on the other end of the table stood and held his hands out with a smirk on his lips. “Welcome Ms. Cinder. I have to say that it is truly a pleasure to see you again. And in such fine health I see. It seems that your stay with Stratos has indeed been doing you well.” Slowly Morgan’s hand fell from her lips while her eyes remained on the man that stood before her. Sliding one foot forward, she then followed with the other while she was trying to place the man that was speaking to her. Her confusion must have shown clearly because he began to chuckle while looking to her. “Let me clear up your confusion, Ms. Cinder. I am Maxsell Shade. When you saw me, thou momentarily, I was First Mate for the Dragonfly Pirates. Now..” He held out his arms with a smirk residing on his face. “...Captain of the Dragonflies.” The wheels in Morgan’s mind just about worked in overdrive while she tried to take it all in. “If that is the case, why do you have a meeting with Stratos? I saw the M…” He held up his hand and turned his head a moment. Holding up one finger, he turned back to her and smirked again. “You saw what he wanted you and the rest of them to see…” Morgan must have looked as if she was going to faint because two men had stood and walked over to her. One holding her against him for a fleeting moment while the other pulled out a chair and held it while the other gently placed her into it before leaving to take their places once more. “..and of course the Marines that were there were all under his command. As I’m sure you are already familiar with the orders that his men follow through with.” He sighed a moment and looked to the man on his right. “That must have been quite the nasty business with the Arrista family. They showed such promise too.” Morgan couldn’t believe what she was hearing and looked to the table quietly while taking a few more breaths in only to release them slowly while trying to regain her focus.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Morgan looked to Maxsell and moved her chair to look directly across from him. Her eyes no longer showing her confusion but now were a bit more on the focused side. This was not a time to play stupid. “Please correct me if I am wrong, Captain. From what I am gathering from you is that you all are informants of Stratos’s?” Her voice struggling to stay firm in her question. “Yes, Ms. Cinder. We are the eyes and ears of your dear Vice Admiral. Though I have to admit, it is rather interesting to see a man such as him in a position that would very well destroy his position within the Marines. It’s frowned upon by the World’s Government for Marines to even be friends with Pirates. Most don’t even like the idea of having to, shall we say, ‘overlook’ the dealings of the Shichibukai. Yet, here we are. You, the daughter of the Notorious Scarlet Cinder and taken from the Pirate Games by our dear Stratos. Believed by the government and Marines to be dead at the hands of our Vice Admiral himself.” He chuckled as the look of surprise must have come across her face. “I have to say, you are rather healthy looking for a woman to be deemed as dead by your employer.” The men on either side of him chuckled at his words and looked to Morgan. He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up to rest on the side of the table while his fingers laced together and he laid them on his stomach. “But Stratos’s intentions have nothing to do with us. What his plans are is none of our concern. So long as the money remains coming in for the information that we pass along, he could take over the World’s government for all I care.” Morgan nodded and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs at the knee.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Now you know.” Maxsell grinned to her. “And now, you’ll please extend to Stratos that we will be looking forward to his deposit. Anarc. Please give Ms. Cinder the folder.” A man with a mass of scars across his cheek leaned over and slid a folder to Morgan. Taking it, she gave a nod and opened it. “You will find the newest information that has come to the eyes and ears of me and my men. If you would pass it on to Stratos, it would be greatly appreciated.” Morgan nodded slightly while her eyes moved over the information that was plain for her to see. A Marine Captain that was involved in slave trafficking. A woman that was involved in selling information. There was much that seemed like it was worth her’s or Stratos’s time. Then her eyes trailed over another paper that had another Marine doing things that he shouldn’t be doing. Her brow arched as she read over it. Back in the day, she knew about fights to the death for the entertainment of the Emperor. Gladiators they were called. But it seemed that there was another that would think he was the Emperor and the rest of them were in charge of his entertainment. Her fingers moved along her lips while she read this information. “Is everything alright, Ms. Cinder?” Maxsell’s statement caused Morgan to look up from her reading with a slight nod. “Indeed, Captain. I am sure that Stratos will find this information very helpful.”

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Closing the folder back up, Morgan stood and placed the file under her arm. Maxsell stood and walked around the table. His dark eyes looking over her as he neared. He bowed to her and held out his hand that she took only to have him smirk and draw her near. Morgan’s breath caught in her throat while her eyes looked to him. The chuckle of the group was able to be heard while he gripped her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, Morgan moved down to the slit of her dress and grasped the syringe that was holstered beside her flintlock. Removing it from the leather strapping, the cap came off and was held in place by the leather. “I have to say, Ms. Cinder, I am envious of the Vice Admiral. You are on his ship and not a soul knows that you are still alive. He can do as he wishes with you and no one would be the wiser.” His breath coated over her face. It was hard to mistake the smell of rum that he had been drinking. Drawing her face closer to his, he just about whispered against her cheek. “Perhaps I can make a deal with him to give me you instead of money for our next information trade. I wonder if the daughter is as good as the legendary mother?” The sound of his thoughts caused her to close her eyes and shiver. Enough was enough. Raising her hand up between them, Morgan placed the tip of her syringe against his neck at his artery. “Keep talking. You will not live to see the end of your second week as Captain.” Maxsell went still against her and slowly moved back from the side of Morgan’s face. His dark eyes looked to her with a smirk crossing his lips. “Well played, Ms. Cinder. You now have my attention.” Nodding, Morgan looked to him. Her emerald eyes gleaming with excitement as the voice in her head was bound up and ready to pounce. “I thought I might. However, you will have to excuse me, Captain. I do have a ship to get back to and in a timely manner.” Stepping back from the Captain, Morgan could see that the tip of the syringe had just caused a slight slice in the man’s flesh. Just enough to cause it to bleed. He placed his hand to his neck and felt the slight trail of blood. Looking to her, he chuckled and nodded.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Morgan placed the syringe back into the holster and snapped the cap in place. Picking up the folder, she smiled with a bow of her head. “Gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure to formally meet you.” Her eyes fell onto the Captain with a smirk of her own. “Captain.” She tapped the folder on the table and turned on point before walking out of the room. She waved to Jem with a smirk on her lips before taking her jacket and placing it on once more. She slid the folder into the inside of her jacket and hoped the rain wouldn’t ruin it. With her hand on the railing, she hurried down the stairs with a slight jump to her steps. At the bottom, she only just glanced to the woman at the desk and once more shivered saying a silent apology to her husband for however many years it had been that he had to deal with her. There were just some things that mercy and charity didn’t even begin to touch. Her hand on the doorknob, she twisted and threw the door open before stepping out. Then closed it behind her. This time the shiver that took over her body wasn’t able to be hidden while she took up the collar of her jacket and pulled it up against her neck and the side of her face.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Slipping her hands into her pockets, Morgan kept her head down to try and protect it from the wind and rain. Her steps were more hurried than they were on the way up to the town hall. This place still gave her the creeps and she just wanted to get off this island. She had gotten lucky with the Captain. Real lucky. It could have gone any other way and she knew it. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she was just about running down the center of the road towards the harbor. Once more, she stopped with her head sitting up straight. Quickly she turned and looked behind her. She could have sworn she was being followed. Her emerald hues searched the entire length of the street with nothing to be found. Sighing, she turned and quickly moved along the street. A streak of lightning lit up the sky while once more hands moved from the side of the village store and slid back into the alleyway.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">There was no better feeling than when she felt the wood of the wharf beneath her feet. The clacking of her heels echoing against the dock only to quickly be covered over by the crashing of the waves against the ship’s hull. She’d slow down once she saw the gang plank and took her time walking up onto the ship. Holding her jacket up a bit, she made sure not to step on it. It would be rather wet and a bit on the annoying side.

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;line-height:1.38;"><span style="font-weight:400;font-size:14.6667px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Once on deck once more, the Gang plank was lifted and the call was made. “Hoist Anchor and prepare to set sail!” The men didn’t waste time. It felt as if they didn’t want to be here any longer then she did. However, she had her own reasons now that she had caught the attention of the Dragonflies’ captain. She had placed her hands on the side of the ship. Her hair whipping around her face while the ship began to move once more from the harbor that it had been sitting in. Where they were heading next, she wasn’t sure. However this small meeting was just another piece to the puzzle that she had come to know as Stratos.