Pirates, Hetalia Style.

Eveleen watched as the guard approached her, questioning her on ‘If she was alright.’ She could tell by the way the Armenian’s eyes narrowed that she was about to pounce. “Ye should worry more abou’ yer own arse righ’ abou’ now.” As if on key, Alisia attacked, dragging the woman to a nearby alleyway. By this time, the other guard was staring wide-eyed at Ireland, her hand shooting for the sword at her side. Ireland would not have it. She shot up as quick as a fox after it’s prey, and pounced the guard, pinning down the guards body with her own. She covered the woman’s mouth, smirking softly as she brought her index finger up to her lip, shushing softly.

“Shh, nae need tae worry, I’ll kill ye nice an’ slow.” Just as the guards blue eyes widen in horror, Eveleen jabbed her hand forward right into the others neck, cutting off her breathing. She then grabbed the guard by the hair, dragging her ruthlessly to the alleyway, striping the guard swiftly and replacing the white dress with the armor. She then left the guard to die, winking as she walked passed Armenian. “Le’s head ou’ tae ge’ them eeji’s.” She headed for the town jail, walking right through as no one questioned them. That is, until they reached the section where the inmates where kept. There they where greeted by a strong bulk man.

His skin looked liked caramel, smooth and tanned to the right brown. His eyes, that watched like a hawk about to attack, where like two pools of dark chocolate, a rich color that probably would have beamed in the sunlight. His hair was an ebony entanglement, pulled back into a low ponytail with a satin ribbon. His predator eyes glanced between the two women, as if trying to intimidate them. Ireland’s lips simply curled up into a smirk in response. Pathetic attempt. “Wha’ are ye two doin’ here? No one told me they were sendin’ two lasses…” He continued to eye them both carefully, any off body movement and he would pounce.

“We were sent down here concernin’ the possible release of one of these men bu’ tha’s no fun. I’ never amuses me tae see such scum ge’ thrown righ’ back ou’ on tha’ streets… How abou’ me an me friend have some… fun?” She looked over to Armenia, winking and hopping she would get the hint. She leaned closer to the man, setting the plan in her head in motion. The man backed away from her, sending his hand to her face. Eveleen simply blinked. She felt the sting that almost instantly took over her cheek, but before she could be angry about that, she felt a cold metal on her forehead. It felt familiar….. a gun.

The Armenian grinned in satisfaction as her Irish companion returned, clad in the armour of a female Port Royal guard. “Le’s head ou’ tae ge’ them eeji’s. She nodded, following closely behind Eveleen as they made their way towards the jail. Alisia's brows furrowed in thought, she never knew Ireland could be so brutal. 'Then again, she is his sister, so I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. I wonder if they have any other family?.. She pondered on it, shaking her head. 'I sure hope not. I'd feel sorry for the World's well-being if there were more than two Kirklands.'

Her thoughts paused as the two reached the jail-house. Her eyes carefully followed Ireland as the red-head approached a large, bulky man with stark black hair. She hung back, waiting to see if Ireland could handle this on her own. Doubt flicked in her mind as a malicious glaze distorted the man's chocolate orbs. Without warning he slammed his hand across Ireland's cheek. The red-head staggered a bit, though didn't seem to fazed by the blow. It was the man's next action that shot fear through the Armenian; a gun. He placed the cold metal of the barrel against her companion's head, a sneering smirk plastered on his lips. Alisia edged towards the two slowly, her eyes locked with the brute's. He let out a bellowing laugh, making Armenia suddenly glad that no-one else was around to hear it.

The man locked Ireland into a choke-hold, holding her form tightly against his chest. His confidence glowered as he stared the Armenian down. "Ye two ar' fools. Did ye really think tha' we didn't know someone would be comin' to rescue good 'ol Captain Kirkland?!" His eyes narrowed. "An' now, I've got ye' right where I want ye'." He pressed the gun harder against the Irish-woman's head, as if a threat. He gestured towards a nearby wall. "You, against the wall. Now." She grit her teeth, nodding. Slowly, she stalked towards the wall, pressing her back against it. The man shook his head. "Nah. Turn around, face against the wall." She raised her eyebrow. "This is ridi-" "NOW. Or do ye' wan' te see yer pretty friend's brains on the ground?" The Armenian's eyes narrowed, though she complied, pressing her face against the cool brick of the wall. She felt the man's hand grip her shoulder tightly, keeping her firmly pressed against the wall. Sweat beaded from her forehead as he pat her down, searching for any weapons.


She stiffened as his hand went for the blade at her side. Swiftly, she elbowed the large man in the stomach. With an oof! he stumbled back, momentarily releasing Ireland. Wrenching Ireland away, she leaped towards the man. Her elbow connected harshly with his jaw. She snatched the pistol from him as he fell onto the cobblestone street. In seconds she was on top of him, the barrel pressed against his forehead. A smirk set on her pink lips. "Well, isn't this amusing." She cocked the gun, fear glazing the man's eyes. "You have keys to the cells, hm?" The man nodded, sweat dripping from his brow. "Hand them over. Now." With a shaky hand, he groped around in his pocket, soon holding a ring of rusty keys. She snatched the keys away. "Thank you."


Without another word, she smashed the butt of the pistol against the dark man's head, rendering him unconscious. With a confident smile, she raised herself up, twirling the ring of keys around her finger. "Well, that takes care of that." She tossed the keys to the Irish woman. "We best be rescuing your brother then, hm?"

The Irish woman who had fallen to the floor looked up at Alisia, smirking softly as she slowly stood up, nodding as she grabbed the keys swiftly. Examining them with a small smirk, she nodded her approval and made her way over to the gate the man had currently been protecting. She picked out a noticeably larger key and jammed it into the key hole, twisting it open as she kicked the iron bars open, the stab wound on her leg stinging slightly. She then looked at the cells, all filled with pirate crews to the brim. She heard a couple whistles as the two female entered, making small comments as their eyes watched them like dogs, eyeing a juicy tender steak. As soon as she turned to them, green eyes piercing through them, they stood quiet, some surprised. “Do ye wan’ me tae leave all yer dumb arses in here or wha’?” She glared and before she waited for an answer, she began jamming random keys, hoping at least on of them would work. CLICK. The iron bars swung open, the men almost rushing out.

“Head over to the end and open the damn cell tha’ has all yer weapon. Hurry now.” They nodded and went over, finding the key conveniently hanging from a nail right beside the cell. Smart move. She then walked over to the second cage, repeating the same process till she heard the same click and successfully opened it. She noticed Scotland in this cage and handed the keys over to Armenia, to open the next one, knowing Killigan would be in that one. She looked over to Scotland and smirked. “Tha’ shite ye make people do.”


((I got lazy. ))

Alisia nodded, taking the keys from Ireland while avoiding the hungry stares of the other pirates. She grit her teeth. Did they really have to stare so much? That fact about men had always made her uncomfortable. One leering pirate blocked her path, eyes gleaming. Before he had a chance to speak, the Armenian clocked him upside the head, shoving him to the side. "Go get your damn weapons, before you become connected to one of mine." He nodded hastily at her venomous tone.

As the pirate scampered away she made her way to Killigan's cell, kneeling to meet his gaze. She offered him a sympathetic smile. "I hope you didn't think your captain would leave you in here forever." She unlocked his cell, gesturing for him to leave. "You should get going to. We've got a Scottish ship to reclaim." She noted the distaste in his eyes as he jogged hurriedly. Sighing, she strode back to where her Irish companion was freeing her Scottish companion. Her chocolate gaze scanned the jail. 'I suppose I'll check to make sure we've released everyone. Wouldn't want to leave some poor quiet soul in here to rot.'


The brunette strode past the pair, eyes scanning the cells left untouched. Oh, yes, they were occupied, but not by pirates. Not any that she recognized anyway. There were a number of men and women in the cells, eying her with a mystified curiosity. And something else she could barely place. 'Hope.' She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. 'They saw us release the others. They think I might free them as well.' Their hopeful stares bored into her. She merely answered them with a solemn shake of her head. Their gazes immediately fell. 'I wonder how many of these people are actually guilty-' "Well, hello their frau. I don't believe I've seen you patrolling these cells before."


The Armenian quickly turned on her heel, meeting her stunned chocolate gaze with a pair of crimson orbs. Her eyes narrowed. Now this man looked like a pirate. She raised an eyebrow. "What can I help you with?" Slight sarcasm rolled off her tongue. The strange albino man only laughed, the annoying smirk never leaving his face. "Oh, you can help me with a lot frau. First of all," he rapped the metal bars with his knuckles, "you could let me out of here. It'd be awesomely appreciated." The brunette's brows furrowed. Everything about this man spelled trouble. With a capital 'T'. "Sorry. Only here for Kirkland and his crew. I don't recall being ordered to rescue any other pirates." She turned on her heel, making to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me-" "Now how is that fair, Captain Arabian?"


She froze in her tracks, spinning around to meet the albino's malicious gaze. Her chocolate eyes hardened. "And how the hell would you know that?" His smirk only widened. "Oh yes, I've heard of you. You've been in a lot of trouble with that Turk lately, hm?" Her eyebrow twitched. He rose as he continued. "I've also heard of your grand reputation. You don't enjoy killing, do you? Is that why you always let that Turk win?" Her eyes narrowed in anger. The albino only chuckled. "You really have a soft spot for a pirate, don't you Captain?" The Armenian stormed towards the man's cell, pointing her finger menacingly. "Not another word out of your mouth! Just who the hell are you?" The albino raised an eyebrow. "And you should I tell you, frau?" Her pinks lips quirked up in her own smirk. "I suppose I'll just be leaving you in there then. Let the rats eat you-" "Gah, fine!" A chuckle escaped her lips at his sudden frustration. Payback was so sweet. "The name's Gilbert Beilschmidt. Captain Beilschmidt. Also known as the Awesome Prussia." His smirk widened, only annoying the Armenian more.


Her eyebrow quirked up. "Beilschmidt. I've heard that name before." Gilbert chuckled darkly. "Of course you have. Who hasn't heard of this aweso-" "SHUT IT. Do you want out of that cell or not?!" The albino silenced immediately. Knowing she was going to regret this, she unlocked the captain's cell, ushering him out. He smirked at her, bowing. "Thank you, frau. I'll be on my way then~" A hand snatched his arm, restraining him from leaving. He turned towards the fuming Armenian, eyebrow raised. Her eyes narrowed. "I don't think so, Captain Beilschmidt. I rescued you. You work for me now. Understand?" The albino sweatdropped. Alisia clicked her tongue. "Now, this way."


She dragged the confused albino behind her, eying Eveleen and the Scott still by his cell. She pulled the Prussian up beside her, grinning victoriously. "Well you two, I think I've found us a new member." She glanced at Gilbert, who only seemed more confused by the second. She chuckled. "From this day forward, this man is working for me." His crimson eyes widened. "W-wait a minute! How does that work?! This Awesomeness can't work for someone else!" His eyes narrowed at her. "I've got my own crew to manage!" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Then they'll serve me too." She stated matter-of-factly. He shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Armenian placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I could have left you to rot in there. I didn't. You owe me your life. Therefore you'll be working for me until that debt is repaid. Understood?"


The albino heaved a sigh in defeat. "You're extremely un-awesome, you know that?...A-and only until that damned debt is repaid!" He added quickly. Ignoring his last statement, she shifted her attention back to the Scott. "So, Captain Kirkland, what's the plan for us now?"


(( And, yes, I can god-mod Prussia. 'Cause he's mine. BD And I'm too lazy to post on two accounts. /KILLED ))

Scotland's deep slumber only lasted about 2 hours or so as the clinking of rusty keys and murmuring from every area in the cell easily woke the red-head up. He groaned and shifted in a much more comfortable sleeping position, not wanting to get up just yet since he was still very exhausted. “Tha’ shite ye make people do.” A person with a thick Irish accent said making him grin widely once he figured it was his younger sister. "Took ya long enuff" He replied, opening one of his eyes slightly to catch a glimpse of his younger sister who seemed a bit pissed off. He chuckled slightly as he stood up before noticing an obvious wound on her leg.

"Good job, sis. I'm surprised ye have lasted this long without dyin'. Must be luck o' the Irish, Aye?" He teased, stepping out of the cell and yawning casually like he didn't have any care in the world. "Nice clothes tae." He commented, though hastily making his way to the many confiscated weapons to take most of them. As he made his way back, he caught a glimpse of Armenia and the Albino kid that wouldn't leave him alone once he got here. ".....Why him of all pirates, I'll never ken." He muttered though shortly after he said that, obnoxious yelling and footsteps were heard throughout their jail division. ".....I think it's time tae leave"

The Scotsman pointed towards a un-locked pair of doors which lead to another division of the enormous jail that held both guilty and very innocent commoners that were accused of tyranny. Scotland, who couldn't resit the urge decided to do the humane thing and help them out of their jails. He grit his teeth once he heard the British troops gaining though, so he decided to do the only thing he could do, Sacrifice an Albino. He grabbed the jail keys and threw it towards him "Unlock everyone's jail cell" He ordered with a sadistic grin, seeing the British troops enter their division before running "HAVE FUN FIGURIN' OUT HOW TAE DO THA' WITHOUT GETTIN' CAUGHT, LAD" He called, bursting through another pair of doors which lead to the middle division of the whole jail. He 'Tsk'ed slightly, knowing for a fact many British troops would be on the end waiting for them anyway.

A great idea struck him as he halted once he reached the next division. He glanced towards the rusty, old and worn down planks of wood that formed the walls of this particular cell division. Deciding now was the best time, he swiftly opened a jail cell and mercilessly starting shooting the wood. Once his very confused crew caught on to his tactic they also joined him and finally made a relatively humongous hole to escape through. "Reminds me of Tortuga." Scotland remarked, making one poor crew member who also remembered escaping through a hole in Tortuga and having to do labor for his captain frown and shake his head feverishly, not wanting to remember it. "Yer cruel"

Scotland chuckled again before making his way out of the hole, pointing in front of them. "Head towards the center of Port Royal where the hangings take place" He commanded everyone as they simply nodded and obeyed. Scotland watched and stayed behind, not wanting any man left behind especially his always pissed off sister. A familiar face not to far from where he was, caught his view making his eyes narrow. "Simon...." He replied, pulling out his blade just in case they ended up clashing if everyone took to long to get through the damn hole. "Will ya hurry up, Ireland and Armenia! I ken yer nae the smallest lasses bu' this hole is pretty big" He grinned, knowing that'd piss them off.

*Eveleen glared at her brother, fitting through the hole with ease as she shoved him to the floor and glared, her lips smirking. "Oh sorry, me arse mus' be so big i' knocked ye over." She let out a small chuckle as she walked and froze. She still hadn’t seen any sign of Killigan. She waited off to the side, tilting her head softly as she watched a couple other pirates run out. “The guards are comin’! Run!” She felt a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach, twisting at her softly as she tried to place the feeling. Worry. She usually didn’t worry much but when she did, she had all right to. She felt Scotland grab her hand pulling her away. He made a comment about how they needed to leave but she ignored him, pulling her hand from his and charging inside to the jail again. She looked to the left, nothing. Then turned to the right. BANG! There was a gunshot, followed by a groan. Eveleen’s feet where running before her mind could even comprehend.

She ran into the room, stopping when she saw a sight that made her actually smile, half laughing. Killigan was standing tall, gun in hand as he sent another bullet through the man’s skull to put him out of his misery. Ireland simply stood by the door frame, wondering why this made her so happy. Just a couple hours ago she didn’t know how to react to him kissing her so suddenly. But now all she wanted as to wrap her arms around him and not leave his side. Is that what it was like? To love someone? That thinking they’re in danger makes your stomach twirl, and seeing them okay makes it all better? It was annoying… it made Ireland feel weak… vulnerable. She didn’t know what to make of it. Right now, she just decided to walk over to him and drag him out of here, but once again, her body acted involuntarily, running into his embrace.

She hugged him, and then pulled her head away to look into his sea green eyes. “Hello their, Cap’n.” He said softly, his smile as soothing as his voice. “Hello, eeji- FREEZE.” A guard interrupted, holding up his gun. Killigan laughed as he turned to the guard, his eyes set to kill as he reloaded the gun. He cocked it and smirked. “Yer nae gonnae sho-“ Just as quickly as he accused him of not doing so, the British man pulled the trigger, sending the bullet off into the air. Instinctively hearing the gun shot, Killigan shot his own, hitting the guard dead center in the skull. Eveleen made a short gasp sound, her eyes widening a bit before she relaxed. The pain shot up, making her body tense in response. “Shh Cap’n, I’m alrigh’.” He smiled reassuringly before realizing the real reason behind her tensed body. The bullet shot though the very side of her stomach, luckily not hitting anything important, but it still hurt like hell.

Killigan immediately tore off an entire strip from his shirt, wrapping it around he twice to conceal the wound and slow the blood. He always tried to act calm in these situations. She made a groan which she tried to pull off as annoyed. “Nae matter how many times I ge’ sho’. I’ never ge’s old.” She was scooped up into his arms bridal style and before she could get a word of protest in, his lips where against hers, pulling away with a smile. “Yer lettin’ me carry you and tha’s final.” Even though his lips where curled into a smile, his eyes showed an entire different level of worry, and maybe…. Anger? Yes, for not shooting first. He carried her out of the jail, through the hole Scotland made and made his way beside Scotland.*

Armenia turned to the albino, who Scotland had just ordered to his death. She put a hand on his shoulder, her eyes glinting in a silent 'good luck'. Gilbert nodded, gulping slightly. After a reassuring squeeze, she bolted for the newly-torn hole Scotland and his men had made. She was about to wriggle through the opening when she spotted Killigan running, carrying an injured Ireland in his arms. Gasping, she quickly ushered the Irish couple through the opening. After making sure a few more men escaped through the hole, she turned back to Scotland, his sword already drawn. She reached a hand out to him. "Scotland, we have to-" She paused when she caught sight of what he was glaring at. That British man, Simon. She didn't know why, but the two had an insatiable grudge towards eachother. Worry flooded her at the thought of leaving the Scott alone with the man and his troops. She remembered last time, it didn't end well for him. She placed her hand on his shoulder.


She opened her mouth, prepared to lecture him, yet bit her lip instead. 'What am I doing? This is Scotland we're talking about here. He can take care of himself. I need to do my part and take care of the other men. Killigan and Ireland will be needing me.' Reluctantly, she released his shoulder. She turned to leave, pausing slightly. She wanted to ream into him, to let him now how stupid and suicidal this whole idea was. Instead all she said was, "Please, try not to die." And with that, she was gone through the hole.


She emerged on the other side, plopping down onto the streets laced in dirt and soot. She sprinted to catch up with the other troops, disregarding the current state of her white dress. The cobblestone clicked beneath her feet as she rounded a corner, her head frantically tossing left and right in search of the other pirates. She scratched at her head, confusion sweeping over her. "There's no way....I'm not lost......am I?" A few more turns of her head confirmed her suspicions. She was lost. "Well, damn. I'll just have to find the center of Port Royal myself then." Spotting a ladder, an idea popped into her head. She hastily gripped the rotten wood, hauling herself up until she reached the building's roof. With the new view she shielded her eyes from the sun, searching for any sign of a town center. She grumbled in annoyance when she found none. She climbed back down the ladder in defeat mumbling a few curses. "How big is Port Royal anyway? Geez..."


After trudging down a few more alleyways, the Armenian only felt more lost than before. She released an exasperated sigh, finding it unbelievable that she had gotten lost this quickly. She rubbed at her temples. "Oh heaven help me...how am I supposed to find Ireland and the others now..?" She rounded a corner into an alleyway, pausing when she heard a rustling to her right. She spun on her heel, drawing the dagger concealed in her thigh-sheath. She blinked in surprise to find a stray cat facing her, its head tilted in curiosity. She chuckled, re-sheathing her dagger. She knelt in-front of the stray, stroking its soft gray fur. "Sorry there, you startled me." It gave a soft mewl in response. Alisia giggled and ruffled its head, rising to her feet. "Be sure to stay out of trouble okay? I know a close friend of mine would be sad to hear that I killed a stray cat by accident." She began walking down the alleyway again, set to find the town's center. Suddenly, she heard the faint hiss of the stray.


Crunch!


The Armenian whipped around, dagger drawn. Her chocolate eyes widened, glazed in horror. No cat met her gaze this time. This time a tall bulk of a man faced her, a malicious smirk forming on his face at the fear in her eyes. His hand circled around the hilt of the sword at his waist. He stalked closer slowly. "Ah, fancy meeting you here, Alisia...." She backed up slowly, careful to match his pace. The hands around her dagger quivered, her breath hitching in her throat. "It can't be...you..." She gulped as he laughed. A soft, cruel laugh. "Ah, but didn't you know? I'm sure you would have heard of my presence in these waters by now." His smirk widened. "You always do." "Sh-SHUT UP! What are you even d-doing here?!" She scarcely noticed how his pace was increasing, and soon he was towering over her. His snatched her wrists in his hands, leaning in closer. "Why? Why did I come all the way to Port Royal? To find you, obviously." Her cheeks heated up slightly, her teeth grinding in anger. "Why the hell-" "Always with the questions, are you?" She couldn't tell how his green eyes were glinting behind that damned mask, and she didn't want to know.


With a swift movement, she smashed her knee against his stomach. He released her long enough for her to shove him away. She rubbed at her sore wrists, glaring daggers at the man. "Why the hell Sadiq? Why can't you just leave me be?" He clutched at his stomach, catching his breath. "Do I need an explanation....for all my actions?" Without another word, she charged him, dagger raised. His sword was already drawn, clashing with the puny metal of her dagger. The smirk never left his lips as their blades danced, the sound of metal clashing on metal echoing throughout the streets. Their blades clashed once more, the two leaning in to sneer at one another. With a swift movement, the man snatched the dagger from Alisia's fingers, swiping it across her forearm. Blood sprayed against the cold bricks as she cried out in pain. He twirled the now--THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- dagger between his fingers, his smirk faltering. "Look, now you've gone and made me hurt you. I honestly just wanted to talk Alisia-..." Before he could finish the Armenian was sprinting down the alleyway, only one thought on her mind. Escape.


Alisia didn't stop running until she entered another empty alleyway, a long ways away from the awful incident. She ripped at her dress sleeve with ferocity, wincing at the damage the dagger had inflicted on her. The cut was extremely deep, but what else was she to expect from him and his skills. Her head shot up when she heard the clanging of steel against steel, accompanied by accented shouting. A smile played at her lips. Hurriedly, she gripped at her bleeding wound, rushing towards the source of the sound. She glanced behind her a few times, expecting to find him on her heels at any moment. She didn't look forward until she crashed into a pair of unsuspecting bodies. She fell backwards onto the cold cobblestone, rubbing at her head. "Hey! Watch where the -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- hell you're walking!" She nodded, quickly hoisting herself and walking past the angered British man. "S-sorry sir....." She stumbled past him, clutching tightly to her wound as her eyes scanned the market square before her. Oh, she was way way off. ".....What...? How do I get....to the center from here?"

Her brown gaze scanned over the stalls again, sighing when she saw no way to tell which direction she should head. "...Maybe......maybe I should ask for directions...." She shook her head. If she asked any of these locals, they might recognize her for the pirate she was. She couldn't take that chance, not when she was wounded like this. She eyed the citizens carefully as the walked by her, the realization hitting her like a club to the head.

Why did none of them notice she was wounded?

It was quite obvious with the blood seeping through her fingers. She clenched her teeth, finally noticing that most of these citizens around her......most were all men. Tanned skin. Hands lingering near their pockets, likely where a hidden gun or dagger would be. Shawls covering their mouths.

Turks.

As if on que, nearly all of the citizens in the square, well over a dozen, drew their guns and blades on her, all pointed in a deadly threat. She bit her lip, eyes scanning the square for any chance of escape. They all stalked towards her slowly, forming a small circle around her. She clutched her wound tighter, wondering if she could run from all this after having lost all the blood she had.

"So. Thought you could run, huh?"

Her gaze narrowed as his white mask was revealed, grin as malicious as before. She backed up slowly, peering behind her, seeing only the water from the ocean. The man cackled, raising the dagger he had snatched from her, dragging it lazily across her cheek. "You make this way too hard, Alisia. I've been chasing you for mo-" She grabbed his wrist almost immediately, twisting it until he released the knife. She tackled him, pressing the blade against his throat. His grew all gave gasps, their guns suddenly clicking. "Stop!" Her voice commanded. "You want to see him dead?!" They listened then, pausing in their tracks. "Drop your weapons! All of you!" Reluctantly, the crew layed the weapons next to their feet. She heard the Turk grumble beneath her. "Dammit woman! If you're going to do it then do it! I didn't come to be humiliated!" She shook her head, jabbing the knife into his hand, anchoring him to the ground. "They you chased the wrong pirate."

Before the crew could react she was sprinting towards the docs. The Turk ripped the knife from his hand, yelling desperately at his crew. Them being men, and her a woman suffering blood loss, they caught up to her quickly. They were on her heels as she finally reached the dock. She felt blades press against her back. "It's either us, or the sharks doll. Your choice." She whipped around, spitting in the man's face. "I'd choose sharks over Turks any day."

And then she jumped into the salty waters below, leaving the Turks above her completely stunned. She could hear their shouts above her. "FIND HER! OR THE BOSS'LL HAVE OUR HEADS!" Using the reserves of her strength, she swam to a dock where a ship seemed to be pulling in. She didn't care though. Slowly, Alisia hauled herself from the water, coughing violently and collapsing on the cool wood. She managed to crawl behind a crate, hoping to hide from the Turks just a bit longer.

In the back of her mind though, she couldn't help but wonder if Scotland and Ireland were alright. If she got out of this alive, she'd be sure to buy them a round later.


(( Okay. So, first of all, I did add Turkey into this one. Epic antagonist time. BD I was given the green light by good ol' Iggykins. And, if by chance a Turkey joins at any point and time and they dislike my portrayal of him, just lemme know and I'll edit this ASAP. Other than that, Guten Tag. 8D ))

Worried emerald eyes were glued to a Irishwoman once he reluctantly moved his attention from the Brit to his sibling. "Get goin' tae Port Royal. I have some important business tae take care of. And take care of ma sis..." He commented towards Killigan quietly yet sternly as he focused on Simon yet again, glaring daggers at him as the same glare was returned to him. He wasn't too happy about their situation at the moment, His sister was wounded, Armenia and Turkey could run into each other at any given moment, and Simon was on their backs no matter where they went.

He 'Tsk'ed before he felt a gentle touch on one of his shoulders. Turning slightly to glance, he noticed it was Armenia with an obviously worried expression. He sighed, knowing what she was thinking even without her actually telling him. "Please, try not to die." he heard her say before walking off to finish her own business. A slight grin grew on his lips as he chuckled slightly and nodded. "Tha' is ma line" He remarked back before walking towards the British troops who were finally close enough to do harm.

He held his sword up close to his chest as he waited for Simon to get close enough. He knew from experience the man never started fighting until he spat an insult at the red-head so he waited impatiently until Simon was at most, five feet from the Scotsman. "Well, Well. You got out of your cell. Why am I not surprised?" Simon replied, a sadistic grin replacing his usual frown. Scotland grinned back at him, taking a step closer before he spoke. "Ye shouldnae be surprised. Ye and a cell cannae stop me, ya ken."

"Is that so? I'm sure a guillotine can stop you though" A cold-hearted chuckle escaped the Brits lips as he continued on "Too bad I won't give you the luxury of being beheaded, I've decided to finish you off with my own hands" He finished, a smug smirk staining his lips as he held up his sword confidently, laying the edge of it on the others shoulder to mess with him slightly. Scotland copied the same tactic, moving it closer to barely touch the nape of his neck. "Ya took the words right out of ma mouth" He replied, Scotland starting the fight with a rough kick towards Simon's stomach, making the man fall back and lose the position of his blade.

"Bring it on" The Brit said as his grin only widened, laughing slightly as he lunged at the Scot. Scotland blocked the attack with his sword making both their weapons clash loudly. Scotland backed up, forcing the Brit's sword to face the ground as he punched him harshly in the face, running towards the center of Port Royal to escape Simon's troops that were starting to surround him. "YOU CAN'T ESCAPE FROM ME" The Brit shouted, grimacing at his busted lip thanks to the Kirkland before chasing after him. Scotland reached the busy streets of Port Royal before turning around just in time to clash swords with Simon's. "Dammit, yer a nuisance" Scotland commented, climbing onto a nearby placed food stand and hopping into a balcony, making his way to the roof of that particular house.

"You think i can't climb?!" The Brit growled, following behind though much more slowly. They clashed swords once again, both of them slightly wobbling from the uneasy surface they were on. The Scotsman ducked and kicked the Brit in the knees before making his way to the edge of the house, jumping towards another one successfully. The Brit retained his balance though and followed fearlessly. As they fought more, Simon's attacks became more straight forward and harsh making the Scot reluctantly step back more and more till he was on the edge of the new house they were on. "Any last words?" Simon asked as he pointed his blade toward's the red-head's chest.

"Aye, Breath mint. Ya need one" He grinned, before free-falling from the house, thankfully falling in a not so comfy pile of fruits that were being sold at a stand though it did soften his fall. He chuckled slightly before continuing to run, Simon not to far away.

((It just made me laugh, the mental image of Scotland fighting a Brit from a jail, to the streets of Port Royal, to the roof, to the streets again xDD I bet his crew was like "DA *SPARKLEYPOO*" XD if they saw him ))

Reports. Tons of reports. Today was to be exciting, the English pirate decided. It wasn't everyday that there was a prison breakout, and not just Irish pirates, but Armenian, Scottish, Turkish, and Prussian pirates running amiss. Arthur smirked; indeed, it was to be a fun day for him.

Clunk, clunk, clunk. His boots made a 'clunk'ing sound as they hit the dirt. The pirate was wearing his normal attire; a blood red coat adorned with gold and black accessories and cuffs, a fancy black pirate hat with jewels and other decorations adorning it, a pair of loose pants which were tucked into his knee-high boots, and a single black eyepatch covering his left eye. He didn't care much for disguise; he'd rather stick out and watch in an almost gleeful mood as scared peasants and pirates ran in fear from him. The piercing emerald eyes. The trademark eyepatch and the coat colored bright red. It was unmistakeable; the man was indeed /the/ Captain Kirkland. Not the Scottish Captain Kirkland, with his fire-red hair and thick accent. Not the Irish Captain Kirkland, with her long, ginger colored hair and confident personality. There was a Welsh Captain Kirkland, and another Irish(he was from Northern Ireland compared to the other Irish girl) Captain Kirkland, too. No, this Captain Kirkland was the strongest of them all. He had escaped from and won in several encounters with the most dangerous pirates out there. He had brought the Spanish armada to its knees. Arthur Kirkland was a pirate most men feared; and if he didn't fear him, he was usually a stupid lad who knew nothing of the danger of pirates.

The teenage Brit continued to walk upon the dirt path,, until he came to the dock. /His/ dock. That had /other boats tied to it/. Oh, this was not going to go well for them. Cracking his neck, he discreetly went over to the boats; plunging several holes into them with his sword. That would teach them not to land their boats on /his/ dock. He would do more, but something else had caught his eye. A girl. One he had recognized, too. A pirate. Girl pirates were becoming more common these days, although they still were in no way more than a minority. But this girl in particular, he recalled, he had teamed up with before to defeat two other enemy ships. He had taken pity on her then, and in return for their lives and whatever the Brits hadn't raided off of the enemy ships, the English got first hand pick on the enemy goods and helped the Armenians defeat the opposing pirates. A rather good deal when it came to the Brits for the Armenians; usually they'd just kill off the side needing help and take the other opposing ships on as well. They were lucky to still have their lives. And yet now, here she was, the captain of the Armenian ship, all cut up behind the crates.

Arthur approached the girl, a hand on his sword because hey- you could never be too careful, with a smirk on his face. "Who cut you up this time, lass?" Maybe he could help her get back at them. He wanted a good fight anyways; and he doubted the Armenian would be that good of a fight now that she was all cut up. He'd rather fight her later- or perhaps he'd just use her to his advantage and not kill her off. It all depended, really.

Alisia coughed, wiping another dribble of blood from her mouth as the last of the Turk's pirates ran by, her location seemingly unknown to them. Sighing with relief, she clutched at the wound on her stomach, the other cut on her arm a painful reminder of just how badly the Turk had beaten her.

Again.

Slowly, she heaved upwards a bit, just to get a glimpse over the crates she had hid herself behind, even more relief washing over her when she saw no sign of the blasted Turks. She groaned loudly as a fiery pain shot through her nerves, and she raised her hand from her stomach, eyes widening at the amount of blood on her hand, and on the dock beneath her. She cringed, shaking her head at herself. What was wrong with her? First, those three bastards earlier that had tried to rape her, and run her through. She should have been able to take care of them no problem! But.....she knew, if Scotland hadn't been there, she probably would have bled to death.

And what now? Now she had no idea where the Scott was, and he had his hands damn about full. Her gaze dropped, remembering just how many men he had to fight alone. And then there was Ireland, who had been shot. No doubt Killigan was taking care of her though, and she knew Scotland could take care of himself.

But what about her? As of late she had been nothing but a failure. Her crew had suffered because of the damned Turk's barraging, and now she couldn't even protect herself. She glared defiantly at the blood on her hand, slowly and painfully hauling herself to her knees. Like hell she was going to die here! And, if she was, there was no way she was going down without a fight. She should at least help the Scott in any way she could before she kicked the bucket.

He had saved her life, she owed him that much.

"Who cut you up this time, lass?"

Her head snapped up at the sound of the very, very familiar British accent from just behind her. Slowly, she turned around, chocolate gaze clouded in fear at the blonde pirate behind her. She bit her lip. If he was in here, then the Scott's plan was in jeopardy. Slowly, very slowly, she slid away from him, very aware of his brutish and deadly reputation and nature. "Captain.....Arthur Kirkland........" she managed to wheeze. Memories flashed back, the time that he had aided her. She still never quite new why, she had always brushed it off as more business than anything. He probably never thought of her as a threat.

If he was here to cause trouble for the Scott, he would definitely reconsider her threat level.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "What......the hell......are you doing here........" It wasn't really a surprise to her that, even though she was disguised in a dress, he recognized her. He was always a sharp man with keen senses. Trying to hide her weak state, she slowly forced herself to her feet, clutching roughly at her stomach gash. It would do her no good to look vulnerable. "I.....had a run in......with.......that MY BELOVED....." She bit her lip as more blood dribbled from her mouth. "I don't ne-"

Then she heard them.

She whipped her head around, gasping when she saw that a small group of the Turkish pirates had come back. She stumbled backwards, knowing she wouldn't be able to take them all in this state. Not expecting any help from the blonde pirate at her side, she snatched a dagger from a sheath at his waist, having lost her own from before in the Turk MY BELOVED's hand. "Don't mind......if I borrow this......."

Turkey, hm? He knew the way that she was cut up, the way that the wounds had been dealt on her, looked rather familiar. As he was standing there, rather amused at the girl's weakened state, he noticed that the Turks had come back. And that now his sword was gone. Or well, spare sword. It wasn't as good as the real thing, and certainly wasn't as cool. It was more or less for looks and lesser fights. He couldn't be bothered using his regular sword in normal fights. It was just too boring to take others out in one strike, truly. He liked playing with his opponents, watching them try to strike a hit at him, watching them come to their knees, shaking while coughing up blood, begging for mercy.... And that was when he delivered the final blow to all of them. But now, it was time to watch.

The Turkish men truly had an arm and a leg up on the Armenian girl. She truly would die at this rate. Honestly, Arthur hated Turkey's style. The man liked to kill quickly and painlessly. No, no, this would /not/ do. After a minute or so of this fighting, the girl was barely able to breathe, much less fight properly. This was no fun to watch! ...He supposed he could lend her a hand- it would be nice to have someone to use if needed.

Sighing, the English man pulled out his other spare sword from inside his coat- he had quite a few swords on his person, mind you, he /was/ Captain Kirkland, after all- and efficiently made his presence known to the Turks.

"I was going to stay back for this, but this is truly not a very entertaining fight~ Let me make it more exciting."

He grinned darkly, before efficiently chopping the arms off of the Turk pirates. They cowered in fear, realizing who this man was soon after he maimed them. Words escaped their lips, begging for mercy. But Arthur truly wasn't a merciful man. Without a single word, he smoothly cut their heads off, before kicking their limp bodies off to sea.

"Well, that takes care of them," he concluded, wiping his hands on his coat. "What a dull fight. They didn't even /try/ to put up a challenge. Not fun at /all/..."

The Brit turned back to the Armenian girl. "I'd like my sword back, if you wouldn't mind, lass. You can't do anything in this state. You're a feisty one, though, so I suppose I won't kill you now. I'd rather have an all out fight later, when you can actually hold a sword properly."

She was now under his debt, though. Captain Kirkland was definitely not one to let others live while half-dead like this; but hey- She was a feisty one, and he liked that in a woman. She was one of the few half-decent woman pirates out there, it would be such a shame if she died like this.

She lurched at the men, determined to do as much damage to the bastards as she could before falling. She bit her lip, cutting off a shriek as another slice appeared on her arm, this one larger than the other. She careened back, absolutely exhausted as the Turks closed in on her.

And then he stepped in.

Her brown eyes glazed over in horror as she saw just how brutal this pirate really was. She felt a sick lurching in her stomach as Turkish blood was sprayed along the cobblestone and wood beneath them, an evil killing intent gleaming in the Brit's eyes. She backed up slowly, not wanting to get caught up in the man's sick killing frenzy. Shouldn't she be used to this? Wasn't she a pirate? The Turk had always teased her about that, about how she hated killing, despite what she claimed to be. She grimaced at the memory of the Scott seeing that weakness in her first-hand. She had hid, she could have killed him, for her crew. But she couldn't. She knew that she couldn't kill unless her own life was at stake. But....watching this man fight....

He killed because he liked it.

She jumped a bit as he turned back to face her, blood adorning his uniform as he smiled carelessly. She gulped slightly, handing him back the sword then quickly drawing her hand back, not wanting to be around this man any more than she had to.

She had to get out of here. She had to find the Scott and Eveleen before it was too late.

Alisia narrowed her eyes at the blonde pirate. "Well......thank you......and thanks for not......killing me....." She clutched tighter at her stomach, turning away from him. "I need......to go.....before more come......." She had to warn the others that he was here. If the Brit got the drop on them......The Armenian shook her head, not wanting to think about the bloodbath. "I'll......repay you......for your help later......but I.....have unfinished business......here......" She turned back to him. "Do you.....know.....where they.....commit hangings here?......I need.....to find it......." She coughed violently, eyes never leaving the dangerous pirate.

Oh, she was trying to get away? This would not do. No, not at all. She was not to leave his side for now; until he decided she was loyal enough to not go trying to kill off his underlings and such. No, this would not do at all.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go, madam. Not right now. And I'll tell you once again, my sword. I need it back. Also...," He adjusted his stance, popping his knuckles.

"I need you to tell me where Mr. Iain Kirkland and Ms. Eveleen Kirkland are, aye? I'm looking for those two bumbling idiots of siblings right now; and you sure look like you know their whereabouts. I have some unfinished business with them... That da** Scott and Irish woman decided to raid my tea and liquor cabinet the last time I saw them, the prats.." His eye twitched at the thought of him finding his tea and liquor cabinet completely empty the last time he saw his big brother and sister... Oh, payback was going to be sweet.

When it came down to it, even though Arthur Kirkland was a fierce, brutal, cold-hearted pirate, he was still just a teenager at heart. Eveleen and Scotland were just his siblings, truly. As much as he hated them and claimed he was adopted when he was around the two, the fights and bickering that they all shared were most like siblings at the core. But that of course, didn't mean he didn't try to kill them occasionally. And he came close, most the time, but Eveleen and Iain both were almost as good of pirates as he was. They always managed to find a way to escape with something they /knew/ the Englishman would hate them for taking. AKA, liquor and tea. Arthur really hated them for that....

(( My headcannon is that even though Arthur is a real toughie, he's a real dolt at the same time XD And get's piiiissed at Scotty and Ireland for silly things. |D ))

She cringed, turning back around to face him. "What....do you mean.....I can leave....if I damn well.....want to....." She gripped the handle of the sword tighter, a bit reluctant to relinquish the only weapon in her possession. What if he attacked her? She wasn't about to just give that up.

Her eyes widened when that dreaded question reached her ears. She immediately shook her head. "I....have no idea.....Aren't they.....pirates also....?" She faked a laugh, cringing at the pain that flared through her when she did that. "I'll keep.....my eyes open....."

As if in defiance to his earlier request, she aimed the blade at the Brit, brown gaze unrelenting. "As.....for your.....previous request......" She smirked weakly. "...No." She gulped, knowing just how much trouble she was about to get herself into. But....if she could just delay him a little longer....

If it meant keeping Iain and Eveleen safe, she would do it.

"You may.....have saved me....Kirkland.......but...." She wiped some blood from her mouth. "I'm not........willing......to relinquish myself......to a man like.....you....." She coughed violently, the force of it forcing her to her knees. She grimaced, hauling herself back up slowly. She was getting weaker by the second, her hand shaking around the hilt of the sword.

A sudden resolve washed over her, and she stepped forward defiantly. "If......you lay hand.....on either of those two......" She narrowed her eyes. "I'll kill you...."

Arthur sighed. She was so difficult! But then again, if she was so easily giving in, he would've just killed her off then. He retained a somewhat blank expression, before it twisted into one of a nonchalant.

"You give me no chance, then. Don't tell me I didn't warn you, m'lady~"

He yanked his sword from her grip- she truly was too weak in this state to put up a good enough fight-; putting it back into it's hilt. He then picked the girl up, and easily slung her onto his shoulder.

"Tonight, you're getting laid. You're coming with me, whether you like it or not," he said, before strutting walking back onto the dirt path like this is totally normal.

(( .... ARMENIA IS NOW IGGY'S RAGDOLL - *SLAPPED* ))

(( OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH-/SHOT ))


The Armenian gave a small yelp as the Brit suddenly hoisted her up, slinging her over his shoulder. Not so easily giving in, she struggled and flailed, trying to get free from his grasp. She soon found out that it was to no avail, so she allowed her limbs to fall limp. She cursed herself mentally. First, the Scott. Then those men. That that other man. Then the Turk. And now this?! Grimacing, she dug her nails into the Brit's back. "Let.....me go dammit!......" She let out another violent cough, tears blinking at the edges of her eyes. She knew she wouldn't last much longer. "Just....let....me go.....I have.....to find them before....." She coughed again, the pain in her stomach numbing into a weird buzzing sensation. "Dammit.....I won't......die like this......"

"Them~? Who are these people who you're mumbling on and on about?" He asked, extremely nonchalant about the whole situation.

All the peasants and pirates around didn't seem surprised that Arthur had a woman slung around on his shoulder, either. No one questions the great Arthur Kirkland, FOOLS! ((IF YOU GET THAT REFERENCE I LOVE YOU. ))

He didn't really feel the nails that were attempting to dig into his back. Not that it wouldn't leave a mark; but he was wearing a coat, and he was rather oblivious to pain. A dolt when it came to pain, put bluntly.

Then, a familiar ginger and her boy toy came around the corner, not noticing his presence... yet. Pressing one hand over the Armenian's mouth, he came up behind the two and gave her a good to darn freaking noogie. Because he can.

"EVELEEN. I KNOW IT WAS YOU AND THAT BLASTED IAIN WHO RAIDED MY TEA AND ALCOHOL. 'FESS UP."

The redhead and her Brunette had headed of in search of Scotland and Armenia. Killigan had managed to patch up Eveleen as best as he could but she was still weak. But of course, being the ginger she was she still had that natural fire burning inside her. “I didn’ ge; sho’ in the leg eeji’. Pu’ me down.” The man laughed softly and shook his head. “Nope. Ye need to keep all your ener-“ He whipped around when he heard someone address Eveleen. All the ginger could do was face palm. “Killigan.. Pu’ me down, now.” The man held her close for a second before reluctantly putting her down. Letting out small groan, she placed her hand over her bullet wound but still continued over to her brother, a smirk adorning her features. “Tea and alcohol. I donnae know wha’ ye talkin’ bou’, broth~. Bu’ how have ye been? I miss me li’le broth~” It wasn’t till she finished tha’ she noticed the Armenian slung over his shoulders, her blood stained hand quickly slithering to the hilt of her sword. “Well, I see ye found me friend.”

"Not knowing what I'm talking about my arse! Git, you know very well what happened! " He scowled- almost pouting, really- , glaring at the Irishwoman.

He really did just act like a rebellious teenager around his siblings.

"How've I been? Hmph, I've been fine I suppose; I'm looking for Iain so I can chew him out about taking my tea and alcohol as well. And how has my darling sister been?" He had a blunt tone of sarcasm when the word darling rolled off his tongue.

Tea and alcohol are important, okay. Don't doubt Arthur on this.

"Your friend?" He had to stop for a moment to think of who she was mentioning, when he remembered Armenia was on his shoulder. "Oh, this lass here? She was cut up so I so graciously saved her life from the Turks." He shrugged slightly, before adding, "I should probably get the lass bandaged up, now that I think about it."

The Armenian brightened almost instantly when she heard the familiar Irish voice. Maybe she would finally get out of this mess! "Eveleen! I-" She was cut off abruptly as the Brit clamped a hand over her mouth. A surge of anger swarmed over her, but she kept still, waiting out to see what these two "siblings" would say. She almost felt a strange relief when the Brit stated his objective. So he wasn't looking out to interfere with the Scott's plan? He really came all the way out to Port Royal just to berate his siblings? It was hard to believe, very hard to believe, considering the perfect coincidence.

The next thing that he said is what infuriated her.

Since when in hell was this man gracious? He saw an opportunity for bloodshed, and took it. It had nothing to do with her life whatsoever. So why would he care about bandaging her up at all? She grimaced at the thought. He probably just wanted to make her even more in debt to him. After-all, ruthless pirates loved having pawns.

Not standing for this, a sudden surge of strength washed over her as she wrestled herself off his shoulder, biting his hand roughly so she could talk. "Eveleen! We.....have to find....your brother.....It's.....Turkey's here!....." A sudden dizziness fogged her eyes as she stumbled backwards into the Brit. "We have to.....before it's....too late...." She brought her hand to her mouth as she coughed violently, another dribble of blood escaping onto her palm.

"So Iain /is/ here. I knew it!"

But where /was/ he.........Didn't Armenia mention she needed to go to the place where people were hanged? ....His brother was in jail! He started laughing suddenly, tears almost springing in his eyes. Iain, his own brother, was taken to jail! But he escaped. That's why there was huge news of the jail being broken out of. Only his brother. /Only/ his brother.

"Well-"

He was about to say something, but then realized the girl was coughing up blood. This was a bit unfortunate.

"Iain's -THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING- well fine. He can handle himself. And before you even try telling me no, m'lady, he escaped from jail- I can't believe the oaf was caught in the first place! Although I'm not that surprised, he is a bit of a dolt at times. ..Now, we need to get you bandaged up. You- ...now that I look closely, my sister too- need to rest a bit before you get to fighting." He paused, before adding, "Not that I care or anything about your little troubles, but if you need to tell my brother something, I already am going to go see him; so I could possibly warn him or whatever rubbish is happening that's going to interfere with his latest plan."

This situation wasn't unusual for him, truly. It was almost repetitive, for the Brit almost always got caught up in his irritating Scottish brother's plans. But it was also exciting, nonetheless. This time, though, he decided he probably wouldn't fight against his siblings, but with them against whatever new foe they had made. It had been a while since he had done that, but he liked to change it up a bit. All he wanted was to chew Iain out for stealing his tea and alcohol, really.

The Armenian simply stared at him, finding it incredibly hard to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. "You'll.......help us?......But.......why on Earth......." It didn't really add up for her. Why on Earth would the infamous Captain Arthur Kirkland be willing to help them? Her eyebrows furrowed. They were discussing his siblings after-all, maybe he had more of a heart than he led people to believe.

That or he was just insane.

Finally coming to a decision, she nodded to the blonde pirate. "If....you could take.....me to him.....I'd be most.....grateful....." She gripped at her stomach as another violent cough ripped through her. If he did help her find the Scott, and with her wounds, she'd be more in debt to him than she currently was with her redheaded friend. She met her eyes with his again, pleading now. She wouldn't have much time left. "P-please....."

Evaleen was finding this hard to believe herself. Why on earth would her incredibly stupid idiot brother want to help. Narrowing her eyes, she looked between the Brit and then to the Armenian. "I donnae need tae rest. I'm fine. I can handle me self. Bu' why should I wan' ye tae help us. Everything tae ya is entertainment purposes only. How do I know if yer jus' goin' tae make us believe yer on our side for this before ye attack us from the inside ou fer fun." She scowled at him. "Tell ye wha', even if this is a sick game of yers, I'll le' ye play i'. Jus' hand over the girl an' donae think my guard will be down fer a second. I'm always a step ahead of ye broth." A smirk now replaced her features, her had moving from the hilt back down to her side, relaxed.