Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Pirates of the Chemical Romance

Chapter 1

by horsie890 2 reviews

I knew I would do this one day. I KNEW IT. And I must be insane to try working on four stories at once. - He's lived a life of freedom and prosperity for years. An unexpected encounter is about t...

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama - Characters: Bob Bryar, Frank Iero, Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Ray Toro - Warnings: [?] [V] - Published: 2007-05-01 - Updated: 2007-05-02 - 793 words

The humid ocean breezes gently caressed the water into dark waves, letting it crest and fall with the faintest of whitecaps under the moon's intense glow. The broken pathway of the silver light itself seemed to disappear into the horizon, as it did most nights. The storm from earlier in the day had moved on completely and left no traces of its coming, save for a few stray clouds basking in the moon's glow.

The same light reflected in the eyes of a man carefully studying it, pausing only once every now and then to blink. Though normally a clear, stunning hazel, they were at the moment both highlighted by the moonlight and darkened by the surrounding night sky. He could see the stars clearly, more so out here than in the cities. It was calming.

He closed his eyes for a longer time now, taking a single deep breath and enjoying the fresh, cool air. This word was so different at night. It was a welcome relief to the sweltering, miserable heat of midday, with enough water hanging in the air to choke a man. This was not the first time he wished night would last forever, keeping its calming, mysterious spell over the world and holding it captive in a world of sleep. He heard the waves gently collide into the mass of wood beneath his feet. They would have helped it float along silently and smoothly if not for the heavy, metal object weighing it down.

Slow, sharp footsteps brought his silent reverie to a grinding halt. He did not acknowledge the other man's presence, neither turning to face him nor speaking to him. He was a patient man. He would be gracious this one time and listen. Next time the soul might not be so lucky.


His loose grip tightened on the worn handrail in front of him, and he let his fingernails carve thin trails into the varnish. His other hand hung by his side, and he cautiously moved it nearer to the piece of gleaming metal he held close for protection. His actions came purely from instinct, or habit.

"We are ready to depart."

He gave a single, almost unnoticeable nod, and the other man sprang into action, gathering the others and shouting orders at them.

All the while the man continued to stare out at the ocean and admire it. No matter what many others like himself might say about the ever-changing waters, he would always trust the ocean. It gave clear signs when its mood was to change, when it would go from calm to deadly, when its waves changed from beautiful to destructive. True, these signs were not clear to everyone and therefore easily misunderstood, but to him they could be plain as day. He knew the dire importance of knowing these signs. Not only his life, but also his trade depended on it.

He took one last glance at the water and the white circle floating serenely over it before finally turning away from the scene. He took step after step toward the large, round, wooden object in the center of it all, placing one hand on it delicately, almost lovingly. He knew he could trust this, too.

"That's an interesting melody," said a new voice behind him with a smirk clearly audible. He knew who it was, though he refused to acknowledge this man's presence as well. He realized he must have been humming to himself again. It happened often. Music was as much a part of him as the sea he loved so dearly. "We are to go southwest, am I correct?" He gave a single nod in response and heard the dark, almost maniacal laughter of the man standing behind him.

"I am certain they will be.../pleased/ see us once again. Especially-"

The tip of his sword was instantly at the other man's throat. He had already heard enough.

"You will not speak of him on my ship." The other man bowed slowly with hands clasped behind his back, careful never to lose eye contact with him. That would be suicide.

"As you wish, sir." He retired the blade to its thin sheath and gave the man a final glare before returning to his place. He heard the sound of metal clanking against wood, and the shouts of several men. The anchor had been raised, the black-hued sails and flag unfurled. The wind began to carry them forward and help the ship glide along the water. He checked his compass and turned the polished wooden wheel ever so slightly to the left to correct its course. He began to hum the quiet melody to himself again. It would be his only company as the night wore on.
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