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Smiling, she walks over to the rail to stair dimly at the other ship.

"Do you think she is really sleeping?"

*Aeoess tried to sleep but she kept hearing screaming, and she kept seeing images of the crew being slaughtered in very graphic ways. She woke up scared, and even traumatized. She couldn't sleep for the life of her, and the screaming continued, and so did the continuous voices telling her that they would fail, everyone would die, and that the English would torture her and not even show the kindness to kill her for ages....

She climbed down from the nest, confused...She saw John talking to the woman that hosted the party a little while back.*

"No one is screaming, are they?....."

*Fear was easy to see in her eyes, as though the voices were never silenced, and they were turning into something much more bizarre. She then climbed back to some sails and started to sow them up even more, as if she was trying to get her mind off of the voices and images, and trying to make sure they never become real.*

*Aeoess continued to sow frantically.*

"I keep hearing screaming, and when I close my eyes I see blood...I can't sleep this night, not like this..."

Destiny leaned on the railing, gazing over the ocean, the starlight reflecting off both the sea and her eyes. The brisk breeze that blew tousled and teased her long hair. As she stood there, she started singing softly to herself:

The cannonball flies
The cannons roar
But here we stand
Forever more.

The song had a soft, marching rhythem to it. The verses rolled on, about standing firm in the face of battle, and the glory of gaining honor. Almost unconsiously the song changed timbre and tone to almost a dirge-like song. It had a haunging quality to it..

The last battle's come lads, the last battle's come,
The fight has been long, the vict'ry's not yet won,
Here's to the fallen comrades, both now and long ago,
Ever do they watch, wishing our enemies woe..

Destiny looked up at Aeoess. " Would you like to come down to the galley with me? I would be glad of the company. "

Long Night....

*John looks to the stary sky surounded in silence, then looks the enemy ship*

What are the thinking...

*Looks to Quasan*

0_o, not quite what I meant, but ok... Malera, you seem quiet, whats on your mind?

Just dont let it wonder when a cannon is coming for ya xd

*John chuckles to himself*

Syn, who was still crouched on the stairs to the helm, hands hanging loosely, her single eye gazing out dully onto the water, suddenly looked the way of the others on the deck. Now the glow in her eye was vivid, shimmering with the eerie light of insanity. She began to chuckle hoarsely at Quasan's last comment, rising to her feet and taking a step onto the deck, her posture a little cockeyed as if drunk. The stance of a madman.

"Jinx? Ye must be kiddin'. Dear Malaria-" as usual pronouncing the name as the illness instead "-won't be dodgin' a cannonball. 'leastaways, she won't be the only one. I know how these damned English gents think. Blimey, I've been around 'em long enough to quite get the game. Been summoned above, hearin' their plots and plans as they determine what to do with pirates such as ourselves. Y'see, they have lots of ways to get rid o' scum like us. Runnin' us aground, forcin' us onto rocks is a very popular method, watch as we all sink to the deep. Or blast holes in the ship 'till most o' us are torn to bits and not even fit for the sharks and fishes. 'course, that's easy stuff. That's if they don't get their grubby hands on us. If they do, pray to those above to take ya in yer sleep. Dancin' the hempen jig's the best they'll do for us, the most merciful too. Sure, bein' unable to breathe is horrible, but it's better than some fates. They've a habit of encasin' the bodies of the hanged in tar or just tying the corpse all up. Either way, they hang it over the water, in the shallows. They say it's only for the dead 'uns but I've seen 'em do it to live people. They just gag 'em and tie 'em and pretend they're dead. There's always mild stuff too, brandin' and floggin', disembowling and torture."

All of this was rather overdramatic, and who could say what was fact and what was exaggeration or the product of her deranged mind. Still, the wild look in her face confirmed that she believed all of it.