Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Pirates of the Chemical Romance
The pirate captain stared at the floor, ignoring all sound around him. He needed to remain focused no matter what. He refused to lose his dignity.
A set of footsteps and the sound of iron keys clinking together broke through his thoughts, but he didn't move. He wasn't the only prisoner on this ship. Ignoring the sound, he tried to get back to his plan.
'If this were a pirate ship, all I'd have to do is kill the captain, and I would have control,' he thought. 'But the British don't work like pirates. I'd have to get rid of all or most of them if I wanted to be in charge, and I can't do that single-handedly.'
The footsteps came to a halt nearby, and he tentatively looked up. It was almost completely dark in the hallway below deck, but his eyes were highly attuned to the darkness. He could easily see who stood before him, unlocking his cell.
"Follow me," the quiet voice whispered to him. He hesitantly stood and stalked after the man, glaring at him with every step. They climbed up a set of stairs, stopping at a door. At first the pale-haired man thought it led outside, towards the ocean - and freedom - but as he stepped through it he realized it was only another room, albeit one well-furnished.
He gave the younger man just enough time to unlock the metal handcuffs biting into his wrists, then crossed the room with brisk strides to look out the window on the far side. The view disappointed him; the deck and railing of the ship occupied at least two-thirds of the window, and the dark sky took up the rest of the space. He could only see a thin line of moonlit water. It did little to comfort him.
"You're probably wondering why I've brought you here," said the younger captain. The pale-haired man blinked once. It hadn't been the first thought on his mind. He was devising a way out of his situation, like any pirate would. He chose not to respond. "I need to talk to you."
'Good luck,' he thought sarcastically, still not speaking. 'I'm not telling you anything.'
"You're not really a pirate, are you?" Michael asked him. This was enough to make him turn away from the window for a brief second, just long enough to glare at the younger man. His eyes told everything. "I doubt you're even a thief." The pale-haired man sighed.
"Let's get this straight, Michael," he said firmly. "I am no longer related to you. I am not your friend nor your ally." He stepped over to Michael, eyes gleaming with mixed emotions. "I am a thief. I am a pirate. And you will treat me as such." His words had a sense of finality about them, much like an older brother to a younger brother. But he knew that wasn't true anymore. It hadn't been true for nearly a decade.
"That can't be true," Michael said in disbelief, sitting at his desk and burying his face in his hands. "You're still my brother. We're linked by blood, Gerard. There is nothing you can do to change that."
"My name is not Gerard/," the pirate said curtly. "It is /Scourge. And blood does not affect our relationship in the slightest."
"G-"
"Do my words mean nothing to you?!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the desk. He closed his eyes and regained control of his anger. That had been foolish. "I haven't seen you for nearly ten years, Michael. Ten years." His tone was low, almost growling. Michael would have compared him to a wolf had he not been so afraid to speak.
"You don't seem to understand your situation," he retorted in the same tone. "The punishment for what you've done is death by hanging. You face the gallows." He looked angry, but his eyes were pleading and almost sparkling with tears.
"Then I will die with my pride," the pirate murmured, not meeting the younger man's eyes. He caught a glimpse of the map, where Michael had carefully taken note of their location and progress. He did the calculations in his mind. It wasn't a skill he usually put to use; normally the stars and moon were the only map he needed. "We will arrive tomorrow at dawn, if I am not mistaken." He stood and quickly turned away, struggling to keep control of his voice. "Now if you will excuse me, there is something I need to do."
He turned and walked out the door, finding his way to the deck and open sea air. Staying hidden in the shadows until he was sure it was safe, he stepped toward the newly lacquered railing and placed a hand on it, staring out at the beautiful moonlit water. He was unused to being held captive, and knew very well that this could be the last time he gazed at the ocean.
A tiny speck of black broke through the silver light for a fleeting second, and at first he thought he had imagined it. Just as he narrowed his eyes to get a more focused view of it, he felt the tip of a sword bury itself in his back. He quickly spun, finding himself surrounded by guards. They laughed darkly as he reached for his sword, finding it gone.
'Of course they took it,' he thought, mentally chiding himself. 'I'm a pirate. If they were going to let me keep it, they might as well give me control of the entire ship.'
They forcefully led him back down to his cell, almost throwing him into it. He said nothing in response to their comments about his foolishness thinking he could escape. A spark of hope had come to him, though sharp, painful tears were beginning to fall from his eyes. He had seen a ship on the horizon. He was certain of it.
'Normally no sane man would come towards the British navy,' he thought as he briskly wiped away the tears. 'Someone is coming for me.'
A set of footsteps and the sound of iron keys clinking together broke through his thoughts, but he didn't move. He wasn't the only prisoner on this ship. Ignoring the sound, he tried to get back to his plan.
'If this were a pirate ship, all I'd have to do is kill the captain, and I would have control,' he thought. 'But the British don't work like pirates. I'd have to get rid of all or most of them if I wanted to be in charge, and I can't do that single-handedly.'
The footsteps came to a halt nearby, and he tentatively looked up. It was almost completely dark in the hallway below deck, but his eyes were highly attuned to the darkness. He could easily see who stood before him, unlocking his cell.
"Follow me," the quiet voice whispered to him. He hesitantly stood and stalked after the man, glaring at him with every step. They climbed up a set of stairs, stopping at a door. At first the pale-haired man thought it led outside, towards the ocean - and freedom - but as he stepped through it he realized it was only another room, albeit one well-furnished.
He gave the younger man just enough time to unlock the metal handcuffs biting into his wrists, then crossed the room with brisk strides to look out the window on the far side. The view disappointed him; the deck and railing of the ship occupied at least two-thirds of the window, and the dark sky took up the rest of the space. He could only see a thin line of moonlit water. It did little to comfort him.
"You're probably wondering why I've brought you here," said the younger captain. The pale-haired man blinked once. It hadn't been the first thought on his mind. He was devising a way out of his situation, like any pirate would. He chose not to respond. "I need to talk to you."
'Good luck,' he thought sarcastically, still not speaking. 'I'm not telling you anything.'
"You're not really a pirate, are you?" Michael asked him. This was enough to make him turn away from the window for a brief second, just long enough to glare at the younger man. His eyes told everything. "I doubt you're even a thief." The pale-haired man sighed.
"Let's get this straight, Michael," he said firmly. "I am no longer related to you. I am not your friend nor your ally." He stepped over to Michael, eyes gleaming with mixed emotions. "I am a thief. I am a pirate. And you will treat me as such." His words had a sense of finality about them, much like an older brother to a younger brother. But he knew that wasn't true anymore. It hadn't been true for nearly a decade.
"That can't be true," Michael said in disbelief, sitting at his desk and burying his face in his hands. "You're still my brother. We're linked by blood, Gerard. There is nothing you can do to change that."
"My name is not Gerard/," the pirate said curtly. "It is /Scourge. And blood does not affect our relationship in the slightest."
"G-"
"Do my words mean nothing to you?!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the desk. He closed his eyes and regained control of his anger. That had been foolish. "I haven't seen you for nearly ten years, Michael. Ten years." His tone was low, almost growling. Michael would have compared him to a wolf had he not been so afraid to speak.
"You don't seem to understand your situation," he retorted in the same tone. "The punishment for what you've done is death by hanging. You face the gallows." He looked angry, but his eyes were pleading and almost sparkling with tears.
"Then I will die with my pride," the pirate murmured, not meeting the younger man's eyes. He caught a glimpse of the map, where Michael had carefully taken note of their location and progress. He did the calculations in his mind. It wasn't a skill he usually put to use; normally the stars and moon were the only map he needed. "We will arrive tomorrow at dawn, if I am not mistaken." He stood and quickly turned away, struggling to keep control of his voice. "Now if you will excuse me, there is something I need to do."
He turned and walked out the door, finding his way to the deck and open sea air. Staying hidden in the shadows until he was sure it was safe, he stepped toward the newly lacquered railing and placed a hand on it, staring out at the beautiful moonlit water. He was unused to being held captive, and knew very well that this could be the last time he gazed at the ocean.
A tiny speck of black broke through the silver light for a fleeting second, and at first he thought he had imagined it. Just as he narrowed his eyes to get a more focused view of it, he felt the tip of a sword bury itself in his back. He quickly spun, finding himself surrounded by guards. They laughed darkly as he reached for his sword, finding it gone.
'Of course they took it,' he thought, mentally chiding himself. 'I'm a pirate. If they were going to let me keep it, they might as well give me control of the entire ship.'
They forcefully led him back down to his cell, almost throwing him into it. He said nothing in response to their comments about his foolishness thinking he could escape. A spark of hope had come to him, though sharp, painful tears were beginning to fall from his eyes. He had seen a ship on the horizon. He was certain of it.
'Normally no sane man would come towards the British navy,' he thought as he briskly wiped away the tears. 'Someone is coming for me.'
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