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Post by Betty on Oct 9, 2011 22:28:26 GMT -7
Red Flint
FACE CLAIM/CELEBRITY MODEL: Christina Hendricks
CHARACTER FULL NAME: Elliandre Mowbray of Kensington KNOWN AS: Red Flint. OTHER ALIASES/NICKNAMES: Flint, Red, Julianna leFay, Julianna and Ellie, though the last one was only ever called her by her family and friends in her youth. AGE/BIRTH DATE: 28, April 5th BIRTH PLACE: London, England. Kensington Court to be precise SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual. GENDER: Female AFFILIATION: Rogue/Thief. I suppose by extension this may label her with pirates.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: Flint stands around 17 hands high and weighs in around 150 to 160 pounds. Until recently, her crimson locks once hung clear down to her calves. Now, however, it has been cut to hang just slightly past her shoulders. She normally maintains her sometimes unruly mane by securing it back in a tight plait or bun or other such updo; however, several locks seem to always fall and hang wildly about her face, giving her an enticingly tousled look.
Due mostly in part to her Irish heritage, her skin has maintained its soft alabaster complexion. She also manages to keep her skin healthy by dressing appropriately when being in the sun. On the occasions she does get too much sun, she gets sunburned, but has never managed to get a tan. Her hair sometimes lightens a shade or two during long summers at sea, but that is pretty much the only thing that changes in the sun.
Her eyes are twin orbs of blue tourmaline, and just as deep and tumultuous as the seas she sails. Her luscious and full pout could tempt even the most stalwart of men. Her chest has been compared to the highland hills in the homeland of her Scottish neighbors... Surely it can be said, that had the lot in her life been different, she would have made a very fine and highly sought after lady of court. Or on the other side of the coin, had she not chosen to live her life on the open seas, her feminine wiles would have granted her a very successful and heady career as a notorious courtesan or harlot.
DRESS/ATTIRE: Flint gets almost all of her clothes tailor-made to her measurements and specifications. Being a rogue and a thief by nature, she prefers to wear darker colors ranging from blood red, navy blue, deep violet and black. Hunter green is her favorite colour. She can't abide the discomfort of bloomers and dresses so Flint typically wears a pair of sturdy breeches; varying in color from black to hunter green.
Due to the *ahem* proportion of her chest, most corsets and things she finds far too uncomfortable to wear in the best of circumstances, let alone in her line of work or aboard a ship where she actually works with the crew. She does, however, usually wear a bodice without the boning, for basic support. The shirts she wears when inland tend to be made of fine materials, silk and the like, and typically sport a ruffled collar and cuffs. On the ship she chooses the simplicity, comfort and breathability of cotton fabrics similar to the clothing of her men. Were it not for her figure, which was hard to hide even in baggy clothing, it would be difficult to distinguish her from the other men.
Flint completes her ensemble with an ankle length vest dress that is open down the front and buckles across her waist. It laces together up her back and has a slit up to her hip on each side and in the back. This vest gives her more of a feminine appearance when in casual or working attire, yet it allows for maneuverability.
Part of her everyday ensemble includes a wide waist-and-shoulder belt; an Asian/Oriental inspired sarong wrapped around her waist; a pair of fitted and tanned knee-high leather boots; and lastly, but most importantly, a head scarf that is crafted from dark green brocade with black and silver accents.
In the Cavalier style, her hat has a wide brim that is folded up only on one side and accented by a silver floral broach studded with real diamonds. The adornments are topped with one long ostrich feather, dyed black, and a smaller gray one sticking out from the lapel. When the weather's colder, she also has a long, almost imperial looking coat that matches her head scarf and hat; crafted in that same deep hunter green velvet with the black and silver accents.
When not on Thieves' Guild or Pirate business, Flint dons a disguise as a noble merchant's wife, known as “Lady Julianna leFay”. She has a few extravagant gowns that she alternates between. She very rarely walks among society as a noblewoman, however. Though it was once her life, she cannot abide the arrogance of the nobles or the dastardly uncomfortable clothing she is expected to wear for extended periods of time. She is absolutely convinced most modern clothing was invented to torture women. For instance, whoever invented the corset should be keel-hauled, shot and hung; but not necessarily in that order.
CLOTHING: Vest Dress (front) ; Vest Dress(back) Formal Pirate's Dress (this dress is typically reserved for formal or ceremonial purposes only. She has only ever worn it once so far since its creation.) Winter Coat (just imagine dark green instead of beige, and black velvet instead of brown corduroy) Cavalier Hat (Once again, basic idea, only instead of red, imagine green velour with a big black and a grey feather sticking form the lapel pin.) Formal Dress 1 ; Formal Dress 2 Courtesan Disguise (very rarely worn)
EQUIPMENT: Rapier Sword ; Rapier Handle Boleadoras Hand-made Flint Short-Axe ; Hand-made Flint Axe
PERSONAL ACCESSORIES/TREASURES: Mother's Jewelry Puzzle Box
[/url] Despite it's simple appearance of easy lock and key, this elegant box actually holds quite the mystery. Flint thought she had lost it forever when she was taken by those slavers all those many years ago. She only happened coincidentally upon it in the market in Shipwreck Cove some years back. She recognized it instantly and unfortunately, due to the merchant exploiting her obvious desire for it, she ended up having to pay quite the sum to get it back. Later she discovered, to her even greater delight, that after all the years, after Gods only knew how many hands the seemingly simple jewelry box had gone through, in all that time, no one had ever managed to find or solve its puzzle and discover her two greatest treasures hidden within... Her Mother's Cameo Brooch, a gift from her grandfather during her extended stay in Ireland; and a Bronze Locket, which had been a belated birthday gift from Richard, which he'd barely given her before setting sail from Ireland back to England. She had locked both precious items in the box's secret compartment before going to sleep on that fateful night so many years ago. When discovering the box and the treasures it still held, she couldn't have been more grateful she'd done so. PERSONALITY:Flint’s spirit is about as fiery as her hair color. She is passionate in every aspect of her life. Despite what many might think, she has yet to fully give herself to a man. This is not for lack of want or desire, but merely that she has never met a man she has deemed worthy enough to give such a sacred thing to. This does not mean, however, that she does not know how to use her sexuality to her advantage. Quite the contrary, in fact, her sensual wiles have gotten her in and out of many situations, good and bad. Flint is deathly protective of anything she deems hers; from a pretty piece of finery, to a comrade in arms. Try to take or harm anything she deems hers, or hers to protect, and she will not rest until the wrong has been righted. The term “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” could definitely be the motto of her life... should she start having a motto. Should one remain in her good graces, however, one would never have a more trustworthy, reliable and loyal friend. Offend or betray her however, and a greater enemy he will never know. Though astute and serious a majority of the time, Flint is comfortable most when among close friends and comrades, and can be quick and easy to laughter and joking in their presence. Her sense of humour is highly satirical and usually dripping in sarcasm. She can be very crude and quite unladylike when she wants to be, which is partially why she so easily fits in with men; she's a deadly dame assassin first and foremost, yet she can also be just "one of the boys" should the occasion call for it. She is respected and revered by many who know her. She tries to lead by example as opposed to fear. She may be a scoundrel by imperial law, but she is also an honourable person. She does not suffer brigands, rapists or scum in her company. STRENGTHS and WEAKNESSES:Flint has an uncanny ability of reading not only people, but situations as well and predicting their actions and the outcome of said actions. She always follows her gut and has rarely ever been steered wrong because of this. Her skills in observation, deduction and intuition are near infallible. She prides herself on her skill with languages as well. Being a former daughter of standing and privilege, she was educated and trained in many of the finer things in life. Before she was eleven years old she could fluently speak, read and write three different languages; English, Chinese and French; the latter two she’d chosen in an attempt to impress her father who had dealings with both French and Chinese dignitaries and merchants. Then later, under the tutelage of Sao Feng, she was further educated in Mandarin Chinese. Through the course of the last decade or so during her extensive travels of the seven seas, she has picked up basic comprehension and conversational skills in Italian, German, Spanish and Portuguese; at least well enough to get by in any countries that speak those languages. Some languages, one must realize, are very similar in structure and pronunciation; Spanish and Italian, for instance, are very similar in pronunciation, so understanding one can make it possible to understand the other to a fault. Flint is familiar with several different forms of sword combat; from fencing, to the Chinese Jian sword form. Flint’s skill with a sword notwithstanding, just like many rogues, she is most proficient with dual weapons; sword and dagger, double daggers, hand-axes, etc. The weapons of choice she really thrives in, however, would be throwing weapons. Flint is deadly accurate with throwing weapons, such as rocks, knives, spikes and axes. She is most skilled, though, with a pair of bolas or boleadoras. A crudely constructed bolas chain was her main weapon used for hunting when she was stranded on an island as a girl. Honing her throwing skills was one of the few and only ways to pass the time when she was shipwrecked as a younger girl, as such she is quite good at it. Being a rogue, being silent and stealthy is almost second nature to her. She has impeccable balance and knows how to distribute her weight so even in thick boots she can step almost soundlessly, and move with grace and agility. She knows how to manipulate and use shadows and viewpoints to her advantage, to keep herself undetected until the last possible moment. Nothing is infallible, however, and her ability to remain stealthed depends heavily on her adversary or mark's own skills of perception. This ability makes her quite the skilled thief/bandit/rogue. Another aspect of her rogue abilities comes in the form of potions, poisons and herbalism. Flint has spent a great deal of time learning the among the forests of the world and has done extensive research into vegetation and plant life. She is quite skilled at crafting draughts and regents; from a cooling salve that deadens the pain of migraines or muscle aches, to a serum that with one drop could leave a large man unconscious for days. Lastly, one could not possibly call themselves a decent rogue or thief if they lacked the basic skill of lockpicking. Whether using a proper lockpicking kit or simply a pin from her hair, Flint has yet to come across a door or chest that she could not penetrate. One of Flint's greatest weaknesses is the use of rifles and pistols. Despite her ability with throwing weapons, Flint lacks the finesse required for rifles and pistols. When it comes to fire power, she relies more on muskets and blunderbusts for their wide spread; harder to miss. This does however mean she has to be in closer quarters to make her shot count. That's how she prefers to fight anyway, so she doesn't mind. Though Flint is more toned and fit than most of the women in her day, she is still just a woman. She will not be winning any boxing matches with a man twice her size any time soon. Like the rogue she is, though, she relies and counts on speed, stealth, cunning, dexterity, misdirection, seduction, manipulation, quickness, agility and dodging to best or outmatch her opponent(s). Flint's greatest fear and weakness, however, is heights. Due a stupid stunt in her youth, involving a climb up to her father's ship's crow's nest, she has developed quite the fear of heights. Now, if she's ever more than maybe ten feet off the ground, she starts to get dizzy and lightheaded. CHARACTER LIKES:- Smoking; pipes and sicars/cigarros.
- Drinking. Irish stout and reisling wine are particularly two of her favorite drinks.
- Singing. She particularly enjoys raunchy sea shanties, though she has quite the enchanting vocals when she sings folk songs and classics.
- Surprises. Even pleasant ones tend to irritate her because she does not like being surprised.
- Jewelry. Particularly rings and bracelets.
- Fine materials; silk and the like. Most of the garments she owns, breeches, shirts, coats, jackets, tend to be made from the finest silks, brocades, velvets, etc. She can sometimes be distracted by pretty things; an emerald ring or necklace, even a bejewelled dagger.
- Freedom, and the having of it.
- Nature/Being outdoors.
- Games of chance and mystery; cards, dice, etc.
- Gambling; beit with her life or on a game of cards.
- Being barefoot.
CHARACTER DISLIKES:- Women of the hour/Prostitutes.
- Being underestimated.
- Corsets.
- Muskets/Pistols.
- Mind games.
- Horses. She knows how to ride one, but that doesn't mean she likes them.
- Wearing shoes.
- Slavers/Slavery.
- Killing for sport, whether the victim be human or animal. As such, she fights with a sense of self-loathing every time she is"asked"to take an assassination contract.
- Mind games; unless she's the player and not the playee.
- The French. For some reason they just get on her nerves. Maybe it's the accents? She's not sure.
- Walrus mustaches and overgrown beards.
- Bad hygiene.
FAMILY/TIES:Lord Edmond Mowbray, Earl of Kensington - Father - status unknown Lady Julianna Mowbray nee McCullough - Mother - deceased Edmond Mowbray, Jr. - eldest brother - status unknown Charles Mowbray - second eldest brother - status unknown Jonathan Mowbray - third eldest brother - status unknown[/blockquote]
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Post by Betty on Oct 9, 2011 22:39:28 GMT -7
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:
Flint comes from a line of nobles in close relation to the king. Her family and ancestors hail from the central and western districts of London, mainly in the royal borough of Kensington. The lands and the large manor and estate grounds therein were granted to the King's favored cousin, Edmond, who would become the Earl of Kensington.
Around his twentieth year, Lord Edmond honoured an arranged marriage to an Irish aristocrat's daughter and former associate of his father. In the beginning Edmond treated his marriage as nothing short of a business arrangement, however, it only took a few short months for his wife Julianna to soften his heart. He grew to love her more fully than he ever knew his heart was capable of.
Less than a year into their marriage, Julianna gave birth to their first son. He was a strong baby and would prove to be a stronger man. Though, Julianna was thrilled to have a son, she had been wishing and praying for a daughter.
Through the course of the next six years, Julianna brought three more sons into the world. However, the unusually difficult labor of her last she feared would leave her barren. After two more years of trying, Julianna began to lose all hope that she would ever have the daughter she desired and she sank into a heavy bout of melancholy. Edmond feared for his wife and spent nearly every waking moment praying to the Gods to grant Julianna her deepest wish.
As if someone was listening, Julianna found herself with child for a fifth time. This fifth pregnancy took its toll on her body, as if the child within was using all of Julianna’s energy to sustain itself. For the majority of her second and third term, Julianna was bed-ridden. Despite this, however, you could never see a more vibrant or happy woman. It was like she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the miracle she'd been waiting for.
Elliandre was born into the world amidst a maelstrom of rain and thunder the likes of which few Britons had ever seen. Twas as if the Gods themselves were loath to let her spirit go. To say this labor was difficult would be a severe understatement; it was as if the babe inside her did not want to leave the security of her mother’s womb.
After many long hours that spanned nearly two days, the wailing cry of a babe finally echoed through the halls of the manor, followed by several loud claps of thunder; the Gods that had been fighting so hard to keep her, seemed saddened or angry to let her go.
When Julianna held her miracle child against her breast, kissed the soft curls of fire upon her head, she knew she could die happy in that moment. Her heart and her soul, if not completely exhausted, were finally at rest to know her legacy would continue. Bringing little Ellie into this world had taken an extensive toll on Julianna's body; it was as if Ellie had taken most of her mother’s spirit with her as she was born. Julianna was more than willing to give this to her child, however. She knew her spirit was leaving this world so she whispered a loving and tender goodbye to her daughter and her beloved husband before the last threads of life left her body.
Edmond tried his best to raise Ellie like the lady he knew she should be, but such was not an easy task; especially when one had naught but sons before her. Boys he knew; boys he understood. It was so easy to teach her the same lessons and skills he taught his sons. Ellie possessed much of her mother's vibrant spirit and her desire to tag along after her father and brothers was almost overwhelming and stubborn. Whereas most girls of privilege were happy with only learning simple things, such as croquet, horseback riding, needlepoint, foreign languages and playing the piano, Ellie was a little more adventurous and free-spirited. So in addition to herfinerstudies, Edmond found he couldn't deny his daughter anything, especially when she used those big blue eyes on him, so he allowed her to learn many of the same traits and skills that he taught her brothers.
Her brothers teased her mercilessly; they called her names, claimed she'd be an ugly bean sprout her entire life. By their logic, she might as well become a man for no lord would ever wish to have her as their bride. Ellie usually accompanied these insults by playing nasty tricks on them; including, but not limited to, putting homemade itching powder in their undergarments while they slept, adding dyes to their soaps, and putting ink in their tea. Even as a child, her roguish skills were uncanny.
The Mowbray’s had the fortune of living next to a Lord Admiral of the Royal Navy and his family. The Norrington’s were a long line of Military officers, and had title and standing in the King’s court. They lived in Chelsea, which was the next borough over from Kensington. Lord Admiral Norrington’s only son James was almost six years older than Ellie. Though usually a quiet and reserved person, he was encouraged by his father to befriend the Mowbrays. Under such encouragement, James had actually become good friends with the Mowbray children, and to an extent this included Ellie as well. When he wasn’t training and preparing with his father for his entrance into the Royal Naval academy, James spent a majority of what little free time he had hanging around the Mowbray manor.
Based solely on how poorly her brothers teased her throughout her life so far, Ellie was often surprised at James’ chivalrousness and gentlemanly ways towards her. Despite how unladylike she tended to be, he still insisted on propriety, calling her "Miss Ellie" or "Miss Mowbray." His treatment of her during this time of rebelliousness, uncertainty and looking for her place in this world would forever earn him a place in her heart; even if at the time she did not realize it.
~~~
When she was nine, the Mowbray family took their private ship for a cruise to the Jamaicas for the summer; inviting the Lord Admiral and his family to join them for the month long excursion through the Caribbean. They would be at sea for an entire week before making berth at Port Royal in the Jamaicas, where the Mowbray’s had a summer estate. Ellie was the only girl amongst a company of men, excluding Lady Norrington and her attendant. Lady Norrington seemed to take it as a personal vendetta to turn the young Miss Mowbray into a fine young woman; Ellie obliged her, however, when Lady Norrington’s impromptu ‘lessons’ were over, Ellie did everything she could to prove that she was not a lady. The antics she would get up to would make all the adults hair turn a little more gray.
During the voyage, the boys helped the crew where they could, however none of them were capable watermen, excluding James perhaps. So they spent the majority of the trip playing games to test each others mettle against one another; they had boxing and arm wrestling matches, sword duels, games of chance and dice, darts and other such things. They drank cordial and sherry and sang shanties with the crew. Poor Ellie tried to join in where she could, but more often than not the boys excluded the youngest Mowbray from participating in their revelry and sport. It wasn't until the boys had begun a game of dare that things might have gone too far.
It was late in the evening and there were only a few scant hands on deck; one sailor at the helm, and another at the stern, one or two patrolling the decks, and undoubtedly there'd be one in the crow's nest above. None of them pad much attention to their antics anymore than anyone else on the crew. The boys were challenging each other to stunts all night, but none of them were quite daring enough to take Edmond Jr.'s challenge of climbing to the top of the central mast to wave the lantern from the crow's nest, almost a hundred and fifty feet above. None of the Mowbray brothers had ever spent much of a great deal at sea. James was the only one among them who had spent any time on a ship and had inklings to join after his father. Even then, James wasn't as skilled a seaman to dare climb the riggings that well or that high. The boys were all talk, mostly, none of them would ever go through with it.
From her hiding place behind a couple barrels on deck, Ellie had been listening in on the entire conversation. When none of her brothers now James seemed like they had courage enough to take the challenge, Ellie brashly answered the call. Before they even knew what she was up to, Ellie had already made it to quartermast. The boys immediately started shouting at her to come back down, terrified for their baby sister's life should she proceed. Uncomprehending of just how much danger she was in, Ellie only yelled insults and barbs back down to them, ironically calling them a bunch of 'girls'.
Without even thinking, James immediately ran for the rope ladder and started to climb up after her. Ellie had a lead on him, however, and his efforts only spurred her to climb higher. When she made it to the crow's nest, she pulled herself up and reached for the lantern to wave it out over the side. Once she looked down seeing the deck so very far below, however, her vision swam and the world began spinning violently making her feel felt dizzy, nauseous and delirious. Before she knew it, the lantern dropped from her hand crashing in a burst of oil and sparks on the deck below. A couple deckhands managed to swat it out before it caused any harm or damage. Ellie seemed to cower in on herself, shrinking against the center column and hugging her knees to her chest.
Despite some of the sailor’s telling him to come back down, James would not be deterred; he was a man on a mission; to save his damsel in distress. When he reached the ledge of the crow's nest, he could barely make out the red of Ellie’s hair shining in the moonlight, which was all the light they had now. When she wouldn't budge from her spot, James had to climb atop the platform himself where after several comforting words, and the strength of his arms around her shoulders, he was able to convince Ellie to let him carry her down on his back.
Her brothers had long since called for aid by this point, and a more able seaman was already on his way up the rigging to meet the children. Ellie had a death grip around James’ shoulders and neck, however, and wouldn't release her grip. So instead of carrying her down like he had planned, the older sailor latched a rope around James and Ellie's waists and climbed down next to them, acting as a spotter just in case either should fall. Once they reached the safety of the deck, Lord Mowbray was there to take his daughter, who, upon seeing her ‘papa’ finally released her hold on the boy; albeit reluctantly. James received a dozen or more claps on the shoulders from the Mowbray boys and other sailors. The Mowbray men were forever grateful for how quickly James was willing to risk his own neck to save the jewel of their family.
Relationships among the Mowbray boys and their sister were much lighter after that night. They had a great deal of respect for her and the teasing diminished in severity and frequency. This event helped them settle into a closeness they'd lacked before. The only downfall was that Ellie then found herself uncertain of how to act around James anymore. In the span of one night he had gone from moderately good looking best friend of her brothers, to the handsome young man who saved her life. She got a funny feeling in her stomach every time she saw him and suddenly, on the days she knew he would be visiting, she found herself actually caring about her appearance; to make sure she looked more presentable and ‘lady like’; as if she wanted him and everyone to remember that she was a girl. She still went on hunting trips with her father and brothers, and kept up her skill with a blade, however, most of the other activities of boys began to lose their appeal.
Lord Mowbray and Lady Norrington had keen eyes when it came to their children, and they both noticed the changes between Ellie and James. After discussing things over with the Admiral, the adults finalized an arrangement that Edmond Sr. and Lady Norrington had been discussing for quite some years; ever since Ellie and James were very young. They were both families of fine and noble standing in England, and a union between them would be beneficial to all parties involved. The fact that there might even be a love interest and connection between their children, only served to make the arrangement seem even more prudent. However, not wanting to spoil or sully the possibly budding romance between the youngest Mowbray and the Norrington’s only son, they wanted to wait to reveal this accord until their children for a time when they would be more open and willing to accept it.
Besides, James would be entering the academy that fall and Ellie still had a bit of growing up to do. So, at least, they thought they would wait until James had graduated and his career set in stone. When the autumn came, James was immediately shipped off to the British Naval Academy.
During James's absence, Ellie shortly grew into her own right as a proper young lady. Gone were the breeches and bare feet. In their stead, she wore extravagant gowns and dresses; played the harp and piano; spoke three languages in addition to English; those languages being Chinese, French and German which she chose only so she could impress her father by being able to converse with some of the foreign dignitaries he had dealings with. She played croquette and attended tea with the ladies in court. She attended galas, plays and balls, and quickly became the talk amongst London’s High Society of potentially becoming one of the most prominent ladies of court. Lady Norrington encouraged Ellie and was very proud and almost smug for how perfectly the young girl was turning out. Though she was potentially a noble lady of court, Lord Mowbray never squandered his daughter's desires to pursue her other talents; meaning fencing, chemistry, and any other study she felt like pursuing that wasn't what most people would consider "proper" for a lady.
~~~
Nearing her eleventh birthday, however, Lord Mowbray also noticed other things about her that were changing. Edmond was not afraid to talk to his daughter about the changes she would be experiencing as she grew into womanhood, however he did not fail to notice the slight spell of melancholy that had seemed to settle over her. She seemed almost distant at times, and aloof. Yet for the life of him he could not get her to open up. Edmond was clueless as to what was wrong or how he could held until one day he caught Ellie standing in his study staring at the portrait of her mother. He wondered how long she’d been there. Before he could give notice to his presence he heard her begin to speak to the painting as if it were really her mother. What he heard his daughter saying left tears swelling in his eyes. He had no idea his daughter was feeling guilty for her mother’s death and so lost without a proper mother figure in her life; Lady Norrington’s influence could only go so far. Unfortunately, the pain of the loss of his beloved Julianna was still to this day a sensitive subject for him, so he rarely ever spoke of her; a fact he now regretted. Edmond was overcome with a great sadness for having never regaled his daughter with more stories of her mother. Ellie needed to know where she came from. She needed a connection to the woman who loved her most.
Edmond came to a decision then, and after corresponding with his in-laws back in Donegal who supported and agreed with Edmond’s idea, they all decided that some time in Ireland amongst her mother' kin would be the best thing for her; there she would be surrounded by the aura of her mother and the people who’d known her best.
Ellie was reluctant at first, even upset that her father was going to send her away, however, when she really thought about it, the idea of being in a place that was so heavily connected to the mother she never knew, the more she wanted to go. In fact, when it came down to the day they would set sail, she even expressed anger at her father for having never let her visit Ireland before. Her brother’s spent the journey to the homeland of their mother regaling Elliandre with stories and tales about their Irish relatives. She felt very happy and glad to be going; like this was something she had to do.
While staying in Donegal, her McCullough aunts, uncles and cousins taught her many things, the most memorable being when they revealed to her what her the legend of where she came from. They told her all about the myth of their Faery ancestry and the ancient days of the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Unseelie court. Ellie knew it was all myth and fantasy, but she found the legend of her ancestors fascinating and she absorbed as much information about them as she could. She delighted in the stories they told her of her mother and melted every time they told Ellie she looked just like her!
Apart from her lessons and the stories from her Irish kin, the McCullough family may not be related to English royalty, but they were nobles and aristocrats themselves so they saw to it that Ellie was kept in societal limelight. Ellie attended more balls, galas and functions than she had in a long time. She met more Irish nobles, bureaucrats and aristocrats than she could count. Her uncles, admired her spirit and tenacity, so they kept up her training in swordplay that her father and brothers had taught her. They even expounded upon her skills to include some basic hand to hand combat. Being as small and sprightly as her, however, they mostly taught her how to use her natural talents in cunning and evasion; with the proper training she could very well take on a man twice her size if she knew how to dodge and evade properly. The women of clan McCullough treated her like their little princess; they lavished gifts and trinkets upon her, spoiling her rotten and teaching her many things about being a woman; including, but not limited to, the effects she could have on a man, and explaining puberty and the birds and the bees to her; lessons she would probably never learn otherwise for her father, nor Lady Jameson seemed the type to teach her such things.
As Ellie's time in Ireland drew to a close, she felt far closer to her mother and herself than she ever had. Even though her father and brothers had visited often, and even though she grew to love spending all that time with her Irish cousins, two years away from her home and her family was more than enough. She was more than ready to go back home to London.
~~~
When her father's boat arrived to take her back to England, she was surprised to see James standing with her brothers to greet her at the docks. He was dressed in his full naval uniform and her breath was literally taken away; he looked positively stunning. She had always thought he was dashing for a boy, but in his uniform... Well she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. They had corresponded over the course of the past four years, but she had never imagined him like this.
When James realized that this vibrant, beautiful and supple young lady before him was the present figure of the lanky tom-boy he’d last seen before he entered the academy four years ago, a blush coloured his cheeks causing him to momentarily sputter over his words. Ellie’s brothers all had a good laugh at both their expense.
It seemed to take absolutely no time at all for the children to fall back into their familiar camaraderie. They spent the majority of the evening in the galley catching up and sharing stories. Though Ellie had corresponded often with her family and friends during the past two years, even including the fact that her family had come to visit her on several occasions, Ellie didn’t realize until that moment how much she had greatly missed them... and James. She learned that he was a Lieutenant now, and well on his way to becoming a captain and commanding his own ship. She did not doubt that in a few years he would get his wish. Though the two parties involved might not have noticed, Ellie’s brothers did not miss the obvious spark between their sister and their friend James; the dulcet tones of flirtation in their interaction with each other.
When Ellie started yawning, she made her excuses to retire for the night, which was when the Mowbray brothers confronted James with the regulatory ‘if you hurt our sister, we’ll break your legs’ speech that all brothers seemed to be required to give potential suitors of their baby sisters. James seemed shocked at this confrontation, however, until they pointed out to him his actions and inclinations towards their sister. James tried to deny these ‘accusations’ but found his argument falling short. Imagine that... He wondered exactly when he had began falling for the youngest Mowbray, and how on earth had he failed to realize it for himself? The sons of Mowbray had definitely given him a lot to think on as he saw to his patrol duties on deck that night.
Ellie had gone to sleep with a light and happy heart. Therefore, one could imagine how gravely upset she was when she woke up in a deep sweat. She hadn't had a nightmare that she could remember; she simply woke to this overwhelming sense of dread. After throwing off her soaked sheets, she exited her small cabin to make her way above decks in naught but her evening gown, which was clinging in several places; her mind wasn't focused on propriety at the moment.
When she arrived on deck, the air was unexpectedly chill, and a heavy fog had settled all about the ship. That feeling of dread escalated and sweat began to bead on her brow. James was the first to come upon the scene and he was deeply troubled by her appearance; mainly because of her obvious distress and state of dress, or should he say undress; but partly because she had been occupying his thoughts for the majority of the night and he felt awkward in her presence now that he was aware of his feelings for her. He noticed that she was sweating, yet she was shivering terribly. So, doing the gentlemanly thing, he removed his long coat and draped it about her shoulders, unintentionally startling her in the process. When he asked her what was upsetting her, she spoke of a feeling that something bad was about to happen. James tried to talk her down, to ease her worry, however words seemed to fail.
James then remembered, in a similar situation of distress, how calming an effect his embrace had upon her. Therefore, shucking propriety for the moment, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her, and whispered softly in her ear. How was it he always had that effect on her? How was he able to calm her nerves by his mere presence alone? Ellie sighed heavily, deeply breathing in his scent; delighting in the sensation that swept through her as his breath tickled across her ear. She was then unexpectedly struck by an epiphany of sorts; did she have deeper feelings than friendship for one of her oldest friends? Reflecting back on the course of the night, and even further back at how he had always made acted towards her and made her feel; the fact that she had strong feelings for him made perfect sense. In fact, she was surprised it had taken her this long to realize it.
Caught up in the tenderness of the moment, Ellie turned her head to look up at him, His face was so close to hers that a swarm of butterflies began wreaking merry havoc on her insides. Her throat and lips were suddenly very dry, forcing her to swallow hard and glide her tongue across her lips. By the Gods, was she about to receive her first kiss? From James Norrington of all people?
Seemingly of their own accord, Ellie’s eyes fluttered closed and her mouth parted ever so slightly. Accepting the voiceless invitation, James raised his hand to cup her cheek before moving in to meet her lips halfway. Before he could complete this gesture, however, their tender moment was harshly ruined when a hail of grappling hooks came raining over the port railing. A ten man boarding party of corsairs came swinging onto the deck shortly after. James immediately sounded the call to arms, and engaged the enemy. He did his best to shield and protect Ellie, but after she claimed the blade of a fallen pirate, he was starkly reminded that Elliandre Mowbray hardly needed a man's protection in such regards.
Somewhere during the maelstrom of the fight, they got separated and Ellie found herself facing off against at least half a dozen which meant she was losing ground very quickly; they seemed to have no desire to kill her as they were merely wearing her down, playing with her as it were. It took them only a short time to overpower her until one man knocked her unconscious with the butt of his pistol. He then threw her over his shoulder and swung back to his ship. She knew no more of James Norrington or her family ever again after that day; she would live the rest of her life fearing and thinking the absolute worst had happened.
She'd been taken by slavers. Their leader felt she alone would fetch a small fortune in the Orient, which was why he dared not lock her up with the rest. Lord knows what those blighters would try to do to her. They never suspected her noble blood or birthright, for in their minds, there was no way a daughter of privilege and standing would be able to fight as well as she had. Therefore, by their way of thinking, she must simply be some type of defender or maid for the Earl's real daughter.
Ellie’s fiery and rebellious nature would see to it that she received more than her fair share of beatings while aboard the slaver ship. The captain didn’t much like her tongue, either, so he punished her to his full extent; starving her and putting her to the lash more than a few times. He made point to not mar her face, for such a thing would ruin her value.
Their next stop in Singapore couldn’t come soon enough for Garrison. He was sure to make the redhead the first item on the docket. She was talked up so much so that even the notorious Sao Feng was among Garrison’s buyers, and he had taken almost an immediate shining to the fiery redhead from the British Isles. She intrigued him with her spirit, but even further still when she began vomiting insults at him in his native tongue. Oh yes. She would be a fun one to break.
~~~
Ellie struggled almost the entire way to the ship, however when they neared the Empress she got a bad feeling in her stomach. When Sao's men tried to force her onto the longboat, her struggling increased and she shouted what seemed like nonsense at them; that there was nothing but certain death waiting aboard that ship, not just for her but them all. The aura about the ship didn't feel right. There was malice and malcontent aboard the Empress. Sao, not wholly unaffected by her outburst, looked towards his beloved ship. At first he didn't notice or see anything wrong, however a feeling similar to the girl's fell about his shoulders. Looking harder, he noticed a man on the deck who was waving a lantern, signaling it was alright to board; only he didn't seem right. His movements seemed fake, almost mechanical.
When Sao and his crew boarded the ship, they were attacked, but because of Ellie's warning, Feng had been cautious and even anticipated the fight. Even bound in shackles as she was, Ellie took up a blade and fought off a couple of Feng's attackers. She helped save his life and defend his ship... That meant he owed her, in a way... He hated what that might entail...
Ellie was still quite young and therefore he doubted she had much experience in the more carnal aspects of life. She was still a young girl, and Sao Feng might be a dreaded pirate lord but he was no child molester. When it came to practical uses, however, Ellie was quite handy. She could handle a blade very well for her age, and she was always willing to learn more; anything anyone was willing to teach her. She was sneaky, smart, intelligent, calculating. Shame she was born a girl, for she would have made a fine man; one Sao would be more than happy to have on his crew. She wasn’t a man though, and Captain Feng had a reputation to uphold. So, though he would try to be a better master, he still had to call her his slave. Sao Feng wanted to keep her close, so he had her serve aboard his ship as his personal concubine; which was really just a title to protect her from his men. If he didn't claim her in such a way, she would not be safe from their attempted molestations.
~~~
After only a few months on his ship, Ellie had even taken a liking to the pirate captain. She had proven herself valuable to him. Feng promised that if she served him loyally, did as she was told and helped make him a wealthy man, that he would teach her everything he knew; from martial arts and Chinese swordplay, to star navigation and of course, all the ins and outs of working and sailing on a ship. She even swore her servitude in blood. So... After they anchored off the coast of Hong Kong, Sao dismissed his entire crew, disguised Ellie as a boy named Eli, then he took on an entirely new crew, with her as his cabin boy.
Having her aboard proved quite successful for him and his men. Her will and dedication were stronger than most of the men who'd been sailing their whole lives. After three years on his crew, Ellie was blossoming in several senses of the word. She could very well be called an able seaman, with potential for rank in the near future. The other regard that she was blossoming, however, would dash any hopes she had at continuing to sail under Captain Feng's colours.
At seventeen, Ellie's anatomy was becoming unmistakably feminine, and no amount of bosom wraps or baggy shirts could hide her wiles that she had clearly grown into. Feng wasn’t the only one who began to notice, so he found himself in a bit of a quandary. Despite how fond he'd become of her presence and her spirit, he couldn't keep her around for much longer without losing face, loyalty and honour with his men. He was a pirate, and a notorious one at that. If word ever got around that he’d been willingly allowing a girl serve aboard his ship, well, his judgment would be called to question; his crew would start doubting him and then there would be nothing but work all the time.
So, as much as it panged him to do so, Sao was left with no other choice. He ‘ousted’ her as a girl himself. He accused her of horrible things and called her slanderous names. He beat her, shackled her then locked her in the brig. Unfortunately, in pirate politics, punishment for this sort of thing tended to be decided by a majority vote; the captain of course having the final say, but should he choose an unpopular vote, he would lose the respect of his crew. So when he put her punishment to vote, it seemed almost all of them were in favor of sixty lashings; twenty for every year she'd lied to them and in essence betrayed them. Despite the pain it caused him, Feng claimed the ‘honour’ of serving her punishment; if left to any of the other crew, surely they would have tried to rip the flesh from her back with every stroke. By offering to fulfill her punishment himself; that was a bit of mercy on his part.
When Ellie was brought above decks she never questioned Captain Feng's actions. In fact she hadn’t spoken since she had been locked in the brig. His betrayal ran deep with Ellie, but she should not have expected any less from a pirate. She struggled against her captors of course, broke more than a few noses and bruised a few groins, but never once did she beg them to stop. There were no cries, or blubbering when they tied her to the mast. She never pleaded with them as they tore open the back of her shirt. Not even when Feng's first stroke fell did a protest usher from her mouth. Her outward appearance betrayed the tumult of emotions and fury writhing within. Feng's betrayal infuriated her and would stay with her a long time, making her impossibly wary of forming new friendships. He practically destroyed her ability to trust.
When her punishment was finished, her entire back was raw and bloody, and she had seemed to pass out from the pain, which was when the men began cutting her bonds. Ellie stirred then, and much to their surprise, she'd been mostly faking her unconsciousness and she managed to struggle free from her captors and fetch a blade and a pistol as she faced off against them. If they captured her again, there was no telling what they would do to her now, knowing who she really was. They would break her completely before killing her. Ellie couldn't let that happen. So, her back was against the wall, so to speak. She could only see one way out; only one way that survival could seem possible. Quickly coming to a final decision, Ellie turned and began running for the starboard railing. Without even the slightest hesitation, she dove head first into the water. With a terrible bitterness in his soul, Feng searched the dark evening waters for hours it seemed, but she never surfaced, not even once. He left that place believing her dead; Davy Jones claiming another soul for his locker.
~~~
The next thing Ellie remembered was waking as if from some terrible nightmare, with a face full of sand. The morning sun was blaring down upon her from the beach she'd washed up on. She was disoriented and dehydrated, but to top it all off, her back was on fire; not only from the sting of Feng's lash, but the sun had scorched her flesh a bright red as well. Of all the predicaments she had landed herself in over the years, this one, by far, would take the cake. She was, in essence, marooned of her own doing.
Ellie was nothing if not a resourceful girl, however, even she doubted she would make it off that island alive. She would not surrender to panic, or fear, however, at least not yet... She'd give herself a day or two without food or water before she let herself give up. The first thing she did was to prioritize her needs. The first one her list was food and water. From that line of thinking came a need for a way to catch said food. She'd unfortunately lost the pistol and sword to the sea.
After scouring the beach for hours, she had come upon a wrecked skiff that looked like it had crashed there ages ago. There was nothing useful she could find save for a tattered piece of it's old sail that might do nicely as a blanket or for shelter, so she kept it for later. There were no blades or much of anything that she could use, besides the wood which might also be helpful to create shelter, or she could try to use it for firewood later. Most of it was rotted though, so she doubted it would be good even for that. Still, she tucked the skiff's location away for use later when both necessities presented themselves.
Eventually, after searching the shore for the better part of the day into the afternoon, she had found and collected quite a few pieces of flint which she managed to chip away at and craft into several useful tools; like a small dagger, and an axe and hammer edge that she secured to a stick with some handcrafted 'rope' she'd made by shredding and braiding palm fronds. She couldn't help but think that her new tools were very akin to something her prehistoric ancestors might have used. If it was good enough for them, it would be good enough for her. Plus she could use the flint to start a fire whenever she needed one. At the end of the first day, the crafting of flint tools was the only thing she was able to accomplish. When the sun had long set, the eeriness of being alone on an island with who knew what lurked in its shadows settled all around her. Her hunger and thirst were ignored by a sense of fear that the mysteriousness of the island filled her with. Tried as she might, she was unable to start a fire to ward away some of the overwhelming darkness that even the half moon was unable to lighten. Sleeping out in the open made her feel incredibly vulnerable and unsafe, so she trekked her way back to where she had seen the skiff from earlier and tucked herself away in its ruins; feeling more secure with its 'walls' protecting her.
When she woke the second day, Ellie had tried and failed at catching any of the native birds on the beach, and there seemed to be no shallow fish swimming in the part of the beach she washed up on. So, out of desperation and hunger, she’d dared the jungle within. Though, she failed at catching anything, she did manage to find a small spring of drinkable water. That was pretty much all she was able to accomplish on the second day, and by that night the sickening emptiness of her stomach began to override her fear of the night. She slept in the skiff again, and for the first time in years it seemed, she dreamed of her old life, her home and her family; she was the guest of honour at a huge feast back in her home in Kensington, with her father, brothers, aunts, uncles and even the Jameson's gathered all around.
When she woke the following morning, Ellie was very close to giving up. Though, she was a very long way from that sheltered and privileged little girl she’d once been, the shock of truly being alone, with nothing at her disposal, no hope for rescue, and starving on top of that, were all factors that were quite damaging to her mentality and her spirit.
She tried to explore the jungle some more; mainly in an attempt to keep her mind off of her empty stomach and the sounds of it eating itself. She had began to despair until, seemingly by sheer luck, she found a colorful bush of small black berries. With the discovery, her spirit lightened drastically. In her excitement, she filled the skirt of her ruined tunic and sat down under the shade of a tree with her 'meal'. Just as she was about to pop one of the juicy looking berries into her mouth, however, a red flag went up in her mind. Her hand stopped midway to her mouth, and then lowered back down to her lap. Ellie gazed at the small black berry for along time, almost as if trying to will it to talk to her; to tell her that it was safe to eat. They had looked so good and she was so hungry that it was awfully tempting to just shove a few in her mouth. She had absolutely no way of knowing if they were poisonous or not, though. If she were feeling particularly suicidal she would go ahead and eat them, but unfortunately for her, she had not reached that point yet...Yet.
With a despairing groan, Ellie dumped them all from her lap before collapsing on her back. Such was her distress that for the first time in many years, she wept. Good and trulywept. She cried so hard, for so long that she ended up crying herself into a fitful afternoon sleep. When she woke, she felt even more weak and disoriented than she had before. She knew she would not survive much longer like this, and that knowledge made her feel even weaker.... A funny thing happened then. She happened to look over when movement caught her attention, and she saw a couple of the native island foul munching on her discarded berries. Surely, the ‘natives’ of this island would know what was edible there and what was not.
Startling the birds, Ellie yelped in excitement and began voraciously plucking the small black fruit up from the ground and popping them into her mouth. She realized that eating too much might make her sick, so she managed a bit of self-restraint; only eating a handful of the heavenly ambrosia, before wrapping up the rest in a large banana leaf and hiding them inside a hollow tree stump she managed to find earlier in her stay.
So went several days of similar scenarios. She only ate the fruits and plants that she saw the birds and other animals eating. She drank from the streams she saw them drink from… After a few weeks, however, the taste for meat, iron and protein almost overwhelmed her. She tried to use her flint dagger and axe to catch some of the extravagantly feathered land birds that roamed the island, however the animals proved to fast and elusive for her close-quarters attempts. Which was when she cleverly constructed a set of boleadoras from three rocks she’d found, and more of that palm frond twine she’d become so skilled at braiding.
With her rudimentary bolas, she managed to catch her first water foul, after four attempts. Her overwhelming hunger for meat overrode her unease at killing the creature; after all she'd gone hunting plenty of times in the past with her family, this was little different. It had almost seemed a shame to kill the creature whose plumage was so lovely and extravagant, but kill it she did. She plucked its feathers by hand and skewered it on a stick she'd cleaned and shaved down to a pike. She managed to start a fire, a skill she was becoming more good at as the days and nights went on, and for the first time in weeks, she feasted on meat.
As the days rolled into months, Ellie managed to really settle in amongst the wilderness of the small island. She mostly spent her abounding free time exploring, even so much as trying to map out the island on the smooth back of a large piece of bark, with some of the charred coals of wood from her fires as her pen and parchment. In her seemingly endless exploration, she discovered hidden caves and secret lagoons. The island was rather small, actually; she could walk from one end to the other in less than a day. Over the course of her stay, she even managed to craft a small, one-man dingy of sorts; which made it easier to maneuver around the island where the slopes were to rocky and steep to cross.
In addition to her explorations, she also worked hard at maintaining and improving her known skills. She gave herself lessons everyday in reading, writing, languages and arithmetic. She would have imaginary conversations in French, German and the basic Mandarin she knew with the few animals from the island who had grown accustomed to her presence; her most prominent listeners included an obnoxious toucan she called Talula and a charming little black and white monkey she endearingly called Sunny, after the monkey king, Sun Kung; for her primate companion seemed just as mischievous as the legendary trickster.
Ellie had tried her best to keep track of time, but without a proper calendar to mark the days she was at a bit of a loss. If she had to guess, judging by the passing of the seasons, and the changing hours of the day, she could comfortably say she'd been there for almost a year. All hopes for rescue had long since gone out the window, which was when the crazy notion of trying to make her own boat began to enter her mind. Based upon the stars she saw every night, she could guess that she was somewhere in the Indian Ocean. She hoped if she headed west she might find civilization, which even in its smallest measure was better than this.
With these thoughts and intentions in mind, she shouldn't have been too surprised what happened next. The gods must really have a sense of humour where she was concerned; that or they were keeping an eye on her. Only a few days after she started making plans for her journey, she was looking for the perfect tree to fell to hollow out for her boat when she spotted a boat anchoring just off the eastern shore.
When she saw them launch their long boats filled with crewmen, she stalked their travel and their landing from the hidden places of the jungle. She kept watch for the whole day as they set up a small camp. They weren't merchants, or navy, nor were they pirates. If she had to guess she'd bet they were privateers which, in her mind, were sometimes much worse than any of the aforementioned three. From her watchful guard, she learned that they'd come ashore to bury a wealth of treasure they, no doubt, didn't feel like reporting to their parliament. She even saw where they buried it, which she had no idea at the time, would come very much in handy later on in her life.
When the sun began to set, the men made camp for the night to drink and feast in honour of their spoils. Ellie seized this opportunity while she had the chance. She whispered a good bye to Talula and Sunny, however the little lemur refused to let her go alone. Using the same little wading raft she'd been using around the island, she stealthily made her way to the anchored ship, finding it manned by a skeleton crew of only two. The rest were ashore celebrating. Ellie managed to climb aboard unseen, then evaded and snuck past the few crew members that had been left aboard. She then maneuvered her way through the bowels of the ship where she managed to find a decent hiding spot in the hold; in a large crate in the storage room. She shushed the monkey's small whimpering. After almost a year on the island, she was almost reluctant to leave; it had become home to her she it didn't take long before the gentle and familiar rocking of the waves lulled her to sleep.
Ellie managed to stay hidden from the crew for the remainder of the voyage back to their port of harbour, which she believed might be somewhere in France if their native tongue was any indication. She dared sneak a scrap of food and water when and where she could but for the most part she stayed hidden below decks in the places of the ship that the crew least visited.
When they approached land, her suspicions had been correct. They were privateers based out of Marseilles. When they docked, she squeezed her way out of a port hole, her year on a deserted island doing a helluva number on her waistline, making it possible to fit through such a small opening. Unfortunately, once she reached Marseilles, she was completely on her own. There were times where she wished she was back in the 'safety' of the jungle, for the real wilderness and terror was being a street urchin in France. Starvation and solitude were no strangers to her, neither was their counterpart desperation, however in such a big city such traits were frightening. She stole what she needed to survive; food, shelter...food. She avoided the gendarmes like the plague, and made friends with fellow urchins.
Now, Ellie’s skills at stealth and thievery weren't masterful by any rights at this point in her life, however she did gain the notice of a few particular people who recognized potential when they saw it; people who knew that with the proper training, she may eventually be counted among their best; there was also the possibility that underneath all that dirt and filth, they wouldn't be surprised if the girl was a bit of a looker as well.
One night, after Ellie managed to snag a small purse from a rather wealthy looking fellow, she was caught shortly after by a group of thugs. The men who nabbed her, bound her hands and feet, blindfolded and gagged her before carrying her off. Ellie's kicking and grumbling didn't cease until one of them threatened to cut her throat if she did not shut up and behave. With a deep fear seemingly coming true, she did as he said; she feared they must be Gendarmes coming to take her away, to be tried and hung for stealing and lords know what else they had on her.
When they reached their destination, Ellie was set in a chair and tied to it. A cold steel blade was pressed to her cheek and she stiffened, inhaling sharply. Other than that she showed no other reaction. Leaving the blindfold in place, they removed the gag from her mouth where insults immediately began ushering from her lips. She impressed them all with her boldness, courageousness and her tongue. She took their threats and spit insults back at them, even so much as daring them to fulfill said threats they promised. She was sharp, and even a little bit crazy... Which only meant that she would fit in with them perfectly...
Once they removed her blindfold they revealed to her who they were; The French Chapter of an International Guild of Assassins and Thieves, simply called "The Pythons". They were looking to recruit her into their ranks... It was either join them, or be killed by them... Life? Or Death? Could one blame her for taking their offer?
When they asked her for her name, then Ellie was faced with a real dilemma. If she told them who she really was what would they do? Would they try to ransom her back to her family; that is if they had survived the slaver attack? Would they even know or care who she really was? Would they be a people able to help her find her family? She was then forced to address an issue she hadn't really even thought about since she was captured five years ago; did she even want to go back to that life? Did she want to abandon everything she'd learned and accomplished these past few years, just to forget about everything she'd come to love about her life and herself and become nobility again? To stifle her own nature and take a back seat to men and her own wants and desires? To never again be able to work on a ship or sail the open seas? To go back to living a life where the only thrills she had to look forward to were afternoon luncheons and tea with fellow ladies, hours of useless needlepoint and crosstitch, and being married off to the most eligible bachelor-slash-highest bidder whose needs, rights and desires would always outweigh her own? The answer was no; a sure and definite, no!
Flint had, had a taste of true freedom; the thrill and satisfaction of making her own choices and living her own life. She wanted more... Probably all... So, as far as she was concerned, Elliandre Mowbray of Kensington was dead; she died one night on her father's boat five years ago. So, to address their question, she gave them the first name that jumped to her mind which had decided to remember the flint dagger she had in her belt. Flint. That was all; just Flint. This name would later be extended to Red Flint, due to her hair color and her choice of weapon.
Ellie was literally branded into their guild shortly after, and almost immediately thrown into their world. The Pythons tested every skill she possessed, expounded upon the ones she was already good at, and taught her some new ones. They taught her how to use deception and distraction to her advantage; that she could use almost anything and everything as a weapon. Her first human kill was at their behest, and though she might have been good at it, she hated it. From then on, she only ever took assassination contracts if she was forced to. For the most part, it was thieving that she became really good at. She found it slightly ironic that she had traded the life of a slave five years ago, only to end up in a similar predicament; for that was practically all she was to the Pythons. They claimed she could roam free, however she was bound to their guild; should she ever try to run or leave she would be killed. She tried to make the best of it. She was indeed very good at what she did and she made herself and her guild leader quite wealthy; earning honour and favour with him.
Within a few years Ellie, er, Flint completely lost herself in the work. What drove her more than anything, was the near desperate desire to get out; to really, to be on her own once more; maybe find work aboard a ship. However, usually the only way to get out of the Pythons was by death... Death or renown... Earn yourself a grand enough reputation, and eventually you might be able to favour or buy your way out. It was out of this desire that forced Ellie to sink so heavily into the world of assassins and thieves. She thought often about her old life; never knowing if her father and brothers or her beloved lieutenant had survived the raid on their ship. Sometimes she missed the simplicity of what her life had been like before the slaver attack. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, however, that it was something she may never be able to go back to; not only because of the life she now lived, the list of crimes as tall as she, but also because she'd had more than her share of freedom from society's double standard. This life had given her a taste for adventure and the freedom of the open sea. It is true, had the slavers not attacked her ship and taken her captive five years ago, that the life of a courtier and a Lady of England would have suited her just fine. Unfortunately that was not how her lot in life had worked out. It would take a hell of a lot to get her to surrender to the life of an Earl's daughter once again.
Flint quickly escalated in rank and fame among her fellow thieves and assassins. It was only a matter of time before other guilds were requesting to "borrow" her skills. Before long she was seeing the world; from Paris to Beijing; Boston to Cairo.
It took almost nine years, but finally she was wealthy and renowned enough to barter her own freedom from the guild, where she then would be able to act as a freelance contractor or consultant to whomever she wanted, and wherever she wished to go.
Shortly after gaining her freedom from the Pythons, it was only a small matter of time before she found herself framed for stealing an artifact from her old guild master; a priceless jade medallion which the guild master idiotically believed possesses magical properties. He'd once offered it to her in exchange for her body and she'd refused. He claimed she was the only one he'd ever shown it to and therefore the only one who knew of its existence. So by his way of thinking, she would be the only one who could have stolen it.
Flint's plans of returning to the desert island from her youth to claim the French privateers' treasure were suddenly dashed as her life was turned topsy-turvy once more. The bounty placed on her head was enough for any man to live on for a good spell, and every would-be mercenary, bounty hunter and assassin seemed to be jumping out of the woodworks to claim it. The reward was greater for her capture alive, however most found the hassle of a live bounty not worth the trouble.
None of her guildees knew of her real or even her fake identity, so most often she disguised herself as a lady merchant, known simply as Julianna leFay, after her mother. Flint has thus far managed to evade, trick, or simply get rid of most of the hunters she has encountered so far. Even so, she finds herself constantly on the move. The only way to clear her name and get the bounty removed from her head is to locate the pilfered item and return it to her old guild master, along with proof of whoever actually took it in the first place. Doing so might even earn her exoneration with him and the guild? Might being the operative word.
She has managed to barter passage where she can as she follows the trail the real culprit has left behind. However, her last promising lead dead-ended somewhere around Jamaica; which she supposed might be somewhat fortuitous, for her purse strings were running a little tight these days. And it wasn't like she could go to the guild and ask for a job, now was it?
Once this guild business was over and done with, she hoped to be able to pick up where she last left off; in fulfilling her goal of returning to the island from her youth where she hopes to discover the French privateers’ treasure buried and forgotten. Such a score would set her for life; so much so that she might even be able to commission her own ship, or perhaps buy some land of her own and start her own plantation in the new country? A lady could dream couldn’t she? However, none of this was even remotely thinkable until she got this tightening noose of a price tag removed from around her neck!
Flint now finds herself harbouring in Tortuga. She has done remarkably well so far at keeping the hunters and assassins off her trail. However, if she doesn't find any new leads soon, she fears it will only be a matter of time before they catch up with her. If no leads are to be found in Tortuga, at least she might be able to barter passage on a ship, either with what coin she has remaining, or with her skills as a sea woman; though the latter seemed very unlikely to be winning over any ship captains in the near future. She supposed she could always try to disguise herself as a man again. She'd done it in the past; she might be able to do it again... Still, she feared that would be her only option. Her money was all but spent, and no captain in their right mind would hire a woman. Being a man might be her only way out of this city; plus, it may put any mercenaries off her scent if she pulled it off right.
The hardest part about it all would be cutting her hair, which she has been growing out for nearly ten years. It was almost a lifetime's achievement at this point, and though it would be regrettable to see it go, her hair was a dead giveaway, not only to her identity as Red Flint, but as to being a woman as well. If she really wanted to be taken seriously by a ship's captain, she would have to really look and act the part. Fortunately for her, she had a lifetime's experience around men to help her portray one almost perfectly. She didn't look forward to having to wrap her bosom down, but it was all for the sake of saving her life, and such a thing was worth a little discomfort.
One thing she did know for certain was that once this guild business was over and done with, she hopes to be able to pick up where she last left off; in fulfilling her goal of returning to the island from her youth. It is her hope to discover the French privateers’ treasure, buried and forgotten after all these years. Such a score would set her for life; so much so that she might even be able to commission her own ship, or perhaps buy some land of her own and start her own plantation in the new country? A lady could dream couldn’t she? However, none of this was even remotely thinkable until she got this tightening noose of a price tag removed from around her neck!
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