Welcome to Gaia! ::

Slamming down her third glass, she leaned back in her chair and smiled at the bartender. They had known eachother a while, and had grown a bond of friendship. "So my dear, how is your wife?" She finally spoke, her gentle but assertive voice not yet hardened by age and the sea did not fit her appearance at all. It had small hints of French, but had the harsh quality of English. Jonath, grinning, replied, "As lovely and as cruel as ever, Lalune."

In the back of her mind she could hear random people behind her talking in a hushed voice about something and her grin only widened. She was a notorious pirate, but most people had fallen under the impression that she was in fact a man, of all the rumors spread about her. Nevertheless a little stress, an anxiety was growing within the bar. It was all but broken when a man approached her.

He seemed to be of a swashbuckler material, strong arms, tight abdomen, a perfect dock worker. Looking back at his grimy looking friend, both apparently drunk, he gave a cynical sneer and stood behind the lovely flower of a pirate. Lalune did not seem to respond. He reached around the sides of Lalune's chair and grabbed her by the waist, attempting to pick her up.

Immediately a pistol had been unholstered and in feminine hands, swung upward and pointing directly (upside-down) past her shoulder, angled at the man's face. Everything in the room stopped for a moment, and attention went to Lalune. The tri-fold hat shaded her eyes, and her long curly black hair hid the sides of her face.

"Do ye mock me?" She said, still in her soft tone. The man's laughter had stopped, staring at the weapon in his face as he heard a soft click come from the gun. Jonath watched tensely, but knowing that reputation was hard to gain for a woman pirate, he watched it play out and would only step in if Laluna could not handle herself anymore.

Soon though, La felt the crushing arms of the swabbie slip away. Not wasting a second after, she lept up and spun around, a fire of rage deep set in her eyes. "Excuse me ma'am." The meathead said,"I thought ye be captain of the Wench Express." The room erupted in laughter, and the only one not contributing to the noise was Laluna who seethed. Seeing that the man's defenses were down in laughter, she took the opportunity to force her fist into his face. The man let out a yelp and the room began to quieten again. "Ah!!! My bloody nose! SHE BROKE MY BLOODY NOSE!" He kneeled down and blood began to pour from his one hand that covered his face. Laluna turned and did a slight curtsey to Jonath and darted out the door, holstering her gun and heading toward the docks.

The Captain jolted down the docks, as gracefull and as panicked as a doe. (Hit the PoTC theme. XD) 'Shitshitshitshitshit...' Her head was mumbling as she turned her head and saw a small militia of people heading her way. Two torches or so were lit, a classic mob scene. She jumped instead of ran ontop of a plank that was left down for the previously boarding pirates. She landed on the deck of her ship and quickly began to raise the planks herself, a few crew members awoken by who knows what were beginning to get to the task. "Miss Lalu--," A sleepy crew member was caught offguard, "BELAY! Weigh anchor, lets get this washbucket moving!" She shouted suddenly, hoping to awaken a few more of the crew with her bellow.