More character exploration, this time with a theme list
So...did some more writing....here's a few quick ones based on themes.
-Crime-
Edwin grinned as he felt his fingers close on the leather pouch. He felt the coins inside it as he pinched it into his palm. His breath came slow, in an effort to keep him calm. From under the table, he could see his fellow Hawks in the corner, loud and bawdy. The two Spaniards at the table he'd sneaked in behind were still arguing about the card game, and were extraordinarily drunk, so his chances of success were greatly raised.
He slid the pouch off the table, taking care that the coins did not make any noise as he pulled them into his palm and began do duck out from under the table. Silently, one hand on his dagger for assurance, he snuck backwards from underneath the table and behind the cover of the wall that separated the staircase. Standing and turning, he walked up the stairs, smirking to himself as he saw Martin 'Hands' Malone waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
Malone grinned as he looked down at the pouch in the grommet's hand.
-Intimidation-
"Get up, ye bastard."
Edwin grabbed the man by the shirt collar and hoisted him to his feet. His lip was pulled back into a snarl and his carpenter's knife was glinting in the moonlight. He saw fear, terror in the fisherman's eyes, and with a sadistic smile, he knew he had the upper hand.
"What did you say?"
The man stammered through black teeth and cracked lips. The sea had not been kind to him, this was apparant. He tried to answer, but only gibberish came out. Edwin slashed the blade of his knife across the man's cheek, cutting a deep gash.
"What did you say!?"
Eyes wide, blood seeping from the gash in his cheek, the fisherman let out a soft, nervous laugh. "I said..." he spoke slowly, terror thick in his eyes, " Tha' if she takes any more o' me business...I would enjoy takin' 'er 'onor 'afore I took 'er life..."
Fire flashed across Edwin's eyes as he sliced the blade across the man's throat. Within moments, he was dead. He got in the man's dingy, tying the body to a rope and hauling it behind the small boat. When he was in deep enough water, he cut the rope and watched the man sink to the bottom of the harbor in the clear black waters.
"Now then," Edwin said as he began to row north, "I be off to Whitby."
-Betrayal-
"Take it back!"
Edwin felt the fist connect with his cheek and knock him backwards, but he had no desire to fight back. He just grinned up at the assailant and laughed lightly. He felt a hand grab his collar, pull him upwards, then felt that familiar sluggish feeling after the fist connected with his face again, this time just below the right eye.
"I said..." he spoke slowly between punches, in the moments that his head was clear. "That you may 'ave 'er love...but I 'ad 'er body..."
Reynold Grygges punched him again, harder this time, a scream of rage quite unlike him reverberating off the walls of the Three Mariners. Edwin could feel blood flowing freely from his eyebrow, tasted the familiarity of iron on his tongue. He turned his head and spat, watching crimson spatter the floor. The fist came down again, but Edwin caught it in mid-punch. He'd had enough.
His first punch hit Grygges in the gut, and the second caught him high across his eyebrow, knocking him off of Edwin. Standing slowly, blood starting to obscure his vision, he looked at Reynold, dazed on the floor and clutching his stomach in pain. He felt his lip curl in anger.
"You were s'posed to be my friend."
He kicked Grygges hard across the face with the flat side of his right foot, turned and left the Three Mariners. He did not see Emmeline in the corner, face buried in her handkerchief.
-Crime-
Edwin grinned as he felt his fingers close on the leather pouch. He felt the coins inside it as he pinched it into his palm. His breath came slow, in an effort to keep him calm. From under the table, he could see his fellow Hawks in the corner, loud and bawdy. The two Spaniards at the table he'd sneaked in behind were still arguing about the card game, and were extraordinarily drunk, so his chances of success were greatly raised.
He slid the pouch off the table, taking care that the coins did not make any noise as he pulled them into his palm and began do duck out from under the table. Silently, one hand on his dagger for assurance, he snuck backwards from underneath the table and behind the cover of the wall that separated the staircase. Standing and turning, he walked up the stairs, smirking to himself as he saw Martin 'Hands' Malone waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
Malone grinned as he looked down at the pouch in the grommet's hand.
-Intimidation-
"Get up, ye bastard."
Edwin grabbed the man by the shirt collar and hoisted him to his feet. His lip was pulled back into a snarl and his carpenter's knife was glinting in the moonlight. He saw fear, terror in the fisherman's eyes, and with a sadistic smile, he knew he had the upper hand.
"What did you say?"
The man stammered through black teeth and cracked lips. The sea had not been kind to him, this was apparant. He tried to answer, but only gibberish came out. Edwin slashed the blade of his knife across the man's cheek, cutting a deep gash.
"What did you say!?"
Eyes wide, blood seeping from the gash in his cheek, the fisherman let out a soft, nervous laugh. "I said..." he spoke slowly, terror thick in his eyes, " Tha' if she takes any more o' me business...I would enjoy takin' 'er 'onor 'afore I took 'er life..."
Fire flashed across Edwin's eyes as he sliced the blade across the man's throat. Within moments, he was dead. He got in the man's dingy, tying the body to a rope and hauling it behind the small boat. When he was in deep enough water, he cut the rope and watched the man sink to the bottom of the harbor in the clear black waters.
"Now then," Edwin said as he began to row north, "I be off to Whitby."
-Betrayal-
"Take it back!"
Edwin felt the fist connect with his cheek and knock him backwards, but he had no desire to fight back. He just grinned up at the assailant and laughed lightly. He felt a hand grab his collar, pull him upwards, then felt that familiar sluggish feeling after the fist connected with his face again, this time just below the right eye.
"I said..." he spoke slowly between punches, in the moments that his head was clear. "That you may 'ave 'er love...but I 'ad 'er body..."
Reynold Grygges punched him again, harder this time, a scream of rage quite unlike him reverberating off the walls of the Three Mariners. Edwin could feel blood flowing freely from his eyebrow, tasted the familiarity of iron on his tongue. He turned his head and spat, watching crimson spatter the floor. The fist came down again, but Edwin caught it in mid-punch. He'd had enough.
His first punch hit Grygges in the gut, and the second caught him high across his eyebrow, knocking him off of Edwin. Standing slowly, blood starting to obscure his vision, he looked at Reynold, dazed on the floor and clutching his stomach in pain. He felt his lip curl in anger.
"You were s'posed to be my friend."
He kicked Grygges hard across the face with the flat side of his right foot, turned and left the Three Mariners. He did not see Emmeline in the corner, face buried in her handkerchief.