High Tide

[Jacky]

I smirk slightly. She keeps surprising me. The one moment she seems a bloody pacifist, the anti-pirate, the do good. And then she goes on about how she thoughtfully decided to punish Cassandra with something worse than death. There are so many layers to Rae, such an undeniable complexity...
For instance, if she *had* killed Cassandra, her life would be considerably more easy as well. So why did she not take that into consideration?
I know better than to ask though.
I suppose my goal is not to motivate Rae to kill Cassandra, all things considered.

[Daz]

The day passes in a slow shift after this morning’s interesting event. I spend most of that time standing around with the crew, trying to avoid Rae and Jack as much as possible. My face barely changes from it’s rather distant, blank expression as I listen to the conversation of the men around me. The usual, uninteresting drivel that they share. I have nothing to add. My problems are, and always have been, far greater than those around me. And I’m not sure there was ever a time that I had anyone else to share my own thoughts with, other than Jack.
So quietly I sit on the railing, a frown forming on my features as the night draws in. Glancing down to the ocean every now and then, wondering if maybe I should just let myself fall overboard and help everyone around me by getting out of their bloody selfish way. Though, I’d rather not go through the process of my lungs filling with water. It doesn’t seem pleasant at all. So with that thought in mind I stay where I am. Swallowing slightly. I need a bottle of Rum.
If there’s even any left on this god damn wreck. I won’t survive these bloody horrible thoughts if I don’t wipe my mind fast. The images of the past are growing increasingly more vivid and the sensations in my body are urging me to do a whole manner of thing’s I’d rather not.
Though after that, It’s hard to tell. That night, for certain, was a blur. And when I wake up to sunlight the next day, I find myself in a position familiar of the night before. In his cabin this time. And the next few days, in fact, follow with these moments of darkness and then heat. I know that I’d much rather wake up to a bloody great hang over than this. The nostalgia is killing me inside. Though I don’t say a word. I simply yell and scream and then pretend that I couldn’t care less about what we did.. about him. And the problem isn’t solved quickly. There’s no use in the brig and there’s no use in locking me away. As long as Jack’s the captain it’s pretty much his call, and with a Sin like this a hold of his senses, it’s a lot harder to tell whether it’s present or not.
A couple of days later, I find myself in the galley, late afternoon, bottle of drink in my hands. I don’t so much as sip it though. I’m starting to realise that every time I come into contact with this substance I end up back with him again. And.. it’s not about the self control. It’s about the taste. And the smell. Both reminding me, reminding the Sin, of memories and thoughts I’d rather it not gather inspiration from.
My eyes stay in a strong gaze, looking deep into the dark hole. Slightly fearful of the one thing I need so much right now.

[Jacky]

Anyone with an objective point of view would think not much changed in these few days. The sin is there constantly, lurking beneath the surface.. and frequently leading to an outburst. It's the same each time. It's starts with a moment in which I'm aware of what's happening, but the sin controls me, and I find Cassandra (or she finds me) for a moment of sheer lust. That moment is followed by a blank. When I become aware of the world around me again, it's accompanied by every single memory of those moments though. Every. Single. Memory.

So indeed. Not much changed. On the outside.

These days, I find myself thinking back more and more of the moments I spend with Cassandra. Or.. the time the sin spends with Cassandra. It's a subtle difference (which saves me from Rae's anger, to be precise). Worse though, is the fact that I find myself thinking of moments far before this sin ever started. Reminiscing the time when we chose to be intimate.

I wonder What the hell it is about Cassandra that causes this? When she used to claim I needed her, I always casually pointed out that she had nothing no other woman could offer me. So why is it that more often than not, I find myself longing for her presence. Even on those nights that the sin lays low, and Rae's sleeping by me side.

I bloody hate that woman. That's one thing that didn't change.
But that past, our past, that horrible bittersweet history..
Taken all things in consideration, I like Rae. But hell, I want Cassandra.. far more than the sin inspires.


Today, I spend the whole morning at the helm. Mostly I tried to forget about that bloody woman. But when noon comes I believe my determination alone isn't enough, so I leave to get some strong rum from the galley to help me with the task.

[Daz]

When he arrives my stomach turns over and I don't move my eyes from the glass. I breath heavily, hoping he won't even notice me. There's nowhere to run aboard this bloody thing.

[Jacky]

As I enter the galley and see her there, I frown slightly. Great. Just the person I needed to see.
I cross the galley to get some rum from the cupboard. "Don't ye have anywhere else to be?" I ask her. It's easier to ignore the things I've been thinking about her if she's not in my sight.

[Daz]

".. Don't you?" I roll my eyes in return.

[Jacky]

I give her a short glare, before I take a big swig of the rum. Afterwards, I keep my gaze set on her. I'm starting to wonder whether this sin will ever wear off completely.

[Daz]

I glare right back, as an automatic response, "Ain't wise to be hanging around here with me, ye know that." I mutter, "Bugger off now."

[Jacky]

"Like that would help." I point out the obvious. It's not like we wouldn't find each other if the sin would decide to rear its head. I take another swig of rum, slowly, while I eye her thoughtfully.

[Daz]

I tut and go to swig mine too, eventually, trying to distract myself as I feel his gaze.