kisame and sakura, the beginning of many encounters
Character(s): Kisame and Sakura
Setting: The tavern Sakura works in at Port Royal
Time: Afternoon
Summary: Sakura encounters the pirate, Kisame. He claims to be on her side. Can she trust him?
Warning(s): None.
It was a long day yet the customers never stopped coming. It was as if some sort of crazy machine was just creating people to walk through that doorway, just to make her life even more miserable. Why Sakura chose to work here, she didn't really know why. Perhaps it was a method to keep herself busy, to keep her mind off of things. Then again, having a full wallet every now and then wasn't such a bad thing either.
Sighing, Sakura placed the tray of dirty dishes before the dishwasher boy and grabbed another full of freshly poured whiskey and ale for a table of Irishmen who were probably the loudest, yet unbelievably, the most pleasant of the bunch. That wasn't to day getting to this group of red-haired loudmouths was going to be a rather easy task. She stared at the obstacle course before her, almost as if she were a delicious rabbit walking through a field of wolves. "Now, why did I have to choose this job?" she mumbled to herself, readying herself for the grabbing and groping that would most likely ensue as she took her first step forward.
It wasn't as bad as it used to be, she kept saying to herself, dodging nimbly from grabbing hands and avoiding the eye contact of hungry stares. Sometimes she even wondered if they simply wanted to touch her or actually take a bite. Shuddering, she finally arrived at her destination. Placing down the tray she swiftly served the men, took her tip, which a drunk Irish man seemed to be excellent at, and continued on her way to the next customer to 'greet' them with her well-developed, fake smile.
Holding the tray like a professional at shoulder level, she shifted her weight to the opposite side asking, "What can I do for you, sir?"
A female tender was always a perk, but at such a well guarded-prestigious-place such as this, Kisame didnt think it would be smart to flirt, beckon, or grope-especially with the guard after him. However, it was simply a tavern and he was taking his first officer's advice to leave the ship to the second and Sai, and to relax. However, he was second guessing himself now that he thought back to seeing his right arm face down on the polished wood. Drinking was definitely fun.
He glanced around for an empty table, but saw none, so he took it upon himself to hold his damaged gun at one of the frailer and skittish looking men, eying the door. "Get up." He said, dropping himself in the now empty seat smugly. He belted the gun which he was hoping to have repaired after the gunpowder was restocked. Now he glanced over at the half empty mug, smirking to himself. The design reminded him of the European beersteins, though they were not the same, of course.
Even with the East Indian Trading Company floating about all over the pith of the world, somewhere such as this port, so close to the British Isles, wouldn't be expected to take after the settling vikings which had been ...removed ages earlier.
As, of course, Kisame did not expect or call himself a saint or martyr, he waved over at the shaken man with the mug, as if offering it before turning his stare at the wench he had looked at earlier. "...." Downing the mug, he slammed it down and smirked. "Pay the woman."
Blinking at the strangely large man causing the first of many-to-come commotions of the night, Sakura gawked at the rashness of this particular individual. Her anger was forcing itself to the surface, but she somehow managed to keep it under control as she took a few smooth breaths and ought to keep her smile on her face. Receiving the payment from the poor individual who was practically manhandled out of his seat, Sakura nodded apologetically in thanks to the gentleman, only getting a smug look and grunt in return. Slightly after the customer exited, a wave of heads following his path, the tavern went back to its usual state of chattering voices and the occasional war song that most likely would end up in another fight. Bloody mongrels the lot of them, thought Sakura to herself, still giving the gentleman before her the most fake of smiles. "An' how may I help you today, sir?"
With a hand on her right hip and the wooden serving tray balanced on her left, she cocked her weight to one side, a move which seemed to catch the attention of a few individuals behind her. Gritting her teeth, for she felt the eyes on her back, she tried to keep hold of her appearance and awaited the gentleman's (if you could call him that) order.
Said gentleman was rather amused by her distraught expression, but made no effort to draw attention to it. He pondered on trying something he normally disliked, but instead, chose to stick to the typical rum with a side of something to eat, "What do you serve food wise?" he asked, looking at her with a smug expression--more so just because he was amused that there was only a girl serving a platter of men.
He refused to have the imported vodka, never tried it and he didnt plan to either.
With a raised eyebrow, Sakura simply nodded giving the strange-looking man what he wanted. It was best to avoid trouble whenever possible, or at least that was her motto in this life. However, today wasn't the best of days to mess with the pink-haired waitress, and even though the man appeared very intimidating and could certainly take down her as well as half the thugs that inhabited the tavern, she still felt the need to push her luck.
Gritting her teeth in a half-smile, half-growl Sakura spat out the names of several dishes on the night's menu as fast as she could, not taking a breath between words, scrambling her words into an incomprehensible mess. Taking quick, deep breaths in order to regain her composure Sakura let slip her facade expression, finally showing all the drunkards around her the true nature that lay within for just a second. Realizing her mistake, she quickly replaced the snarling growl with a sweet smile hoping to whatever God that may exist that it would not be her last thought.
Kisame arched a curious eye brow when the tavern maid suddenly breathed flames and he was reminded of the age old phrase 'Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.' He chuckled and picked up the glass that he had emptied for the troublemaking lad before him, and then slammed it down again. Not loudly, but enough to draw her attention acutely. He made not a comment, whatsoever, of her display but nodded, asking for the third item on the 'menu'. Kisame wasn't a fan of fish dishes, but tonight, around the harbors, he was suddenly turned keen on the idea.
With a wave of his hand, he bid her to take his order, leaning back in his seat, where he looked down at his gun, which had been rendered unrepairable due to the extensive wear and the fact that the model was no longer in production. Kisame thought that there was a nevermind hooked along with such a decree, but he would just as soon find himself with a new gun. He could pawn off the antique, he supposed.
It was a shame though, that it was such an old and held loom--no heir attached to it, Kisame did not care about upholding his name--which his father gave him. It... was a shame to hand it off without a well bartered price aside it.
Sakura swiftly wrote down the order and skillfully dodged and slipped past the crowd of perverts back to the kitchen. Once on the other side of the door, however, the waitress huffed and stomped to the cook who was luckily used to her tantrums and short temper that all he could say was, "What be on order?" Nearly tossing the receipt at the chef in downright outrage, she stomped back to the main dining hall, hoping she got that out of her system. Straightening her outfit she proceeded to serve the gentlemen around her their drinks and orders, the entire time keeping her eye on the strangely huge gentleman who just made her day. It wasn't until the chef shouted out the over-sized baffoon's--or at least that was what Sakura thought of him--order that she realized she was staring. Shaking her head in dismay she quickly made her way to the kitchen once more, pulling out the freshly-made order that smelled so strongly of fish she had to wriggle her nose to get over the suddenly new scent.
Making her way to Kisame's table, her eyes shifted into a slight glare as she came upon her customer, slamming the plate of food down onto the splintered table that wobbled with the forced weight on its surface. "Hope. Ye. Like. It." She emphasized each word, gritting her teeth into a fake smile.
Kisame laughed loudly and looked down at the plate which was wobbling on the run down table, no doubt recieving her scorned anger on more than on occasion. "Something troubling you, Missy?" he asked, trapping her planted wrist by wrapping his fingers around it and placing her next to him, in the emptied seat. "If you have something to say I'd say you say it."
Surprised at the sudden jerking motion, Sakura plopped down roughly on the seat next to the rather muscular gentleman. She held her breath thinking if she made any motion or sound, he would swipe her head off like a ravaged bear. He was, after all, the size of one. Upon his push for an answer, however, she could not let him down, "I be workin' at this 'ere job for several months an' each day customers grow worse an' worse every day." She did not know why she was suddenly speaking so calmly, much less speaking at all, "These kinds o' things, perverse an' trouble causin' fools, just get on my nerves if ye know what I be meanin' to say." Sighing she rested her chin on the back of her hands, her wrists supporting the weight. It was here where she spoke in almost a whisper in a voice that was foreign to her, "If only I could leave it all behind."
Kisame watched her with a small smile and let go of her wrist, waiting for her to retain her structure again before pulling back. "Carry a gun with you, missy." He said again, grinning wildly. "I can sell you one, mine, for a low price if you'd bring me another drink on the house. It's not smart for a tavern maid-- especially someone so young and pretty- to be wandering around in only the dress and apron. And alone at that." He leaned back on his seat and sipped from his mug, humming in contest of the flavor of the brew.
"I can even send you a someone to watch over you. But that would call for the meal to be free as well." He didn't care really. Kisame had well enough to pay for the meal and even more than well enough to jip her, if she rode on his nerves. She wasn't right now anyway, but she was definetly on her way.
"A gun?" It was nearly a whisper, but the intrigue on her eyes seemed to through off the unsure expression from her voice. Sakura turned her head toward the man, eyes growing thinner as her suspicion arose, "Now why would someone such as yourself want to help me? What makes ye so trustworthy that ye shant be cheatin' me?" Her face leaned in closer, ensuring their conversation remained between the two of them, knowing very well eyes and ears were upon them after his 'extravagant' entrance. Brushing a strand of pink hair behind one ear she inquired, "Besides, ye have never told me your name."
Kisame pulled out his old pistol and handed it to her, arching a brow. "Kisame of the Black sea." He said with a small smile, sharp teeth threatening to show themselves off while he looked at her expression. "I have no reason to cheat you, unless you want me to eat and leave now."
He would need a new gun soon enough, and if he rid himself of the old one--and the small match--then it would do him more of favor than of loss.
Definitely a pirate, Sakura nearly sighed to herself, but what else did she mean to expect? The Prince of England? "I suppose ye do no' intend to bring us any harm. However, sir, why do ye plan on giving me, a poor lass, several forms o' protection? Ye could no' honestly give a damn about a random tavern lass, now could ye? It be certainly no' every day that someone such as yourself comes along in a lassie's life, you know?" She was, to put into blunt terms, suspicious. Here comes some random guy, but not just any man, a pirate and up and offers her a gun and a body guard? Just who the hell is this guy and what the heck does he want from me?
Grinning back up at the strange headed woman, Kisame leaned back against the rickety chair, listening to the squeek particularly or else it would have been swallowed up by the loud men around the room. "For airs in all honesty." he said assuredly, reaching up to grab her chin, thumb rubbing her pink cheeks, finger tips groping the skin without intimacy. "And because I can tell 'ye' have quite a mouth. You're dialect would surely get you introuble. Tavern maids are never so over bearing. Wheres your lacking benevolence?" He smirked widely and released her mouth, stretched contently. Once he retracted into his seat, he swallowed back the last of his large mug and handed it to her.
"Refill miss." He said to her and pat her arm lovingly, turning to the meal on his plate. Regardless if she complied, or not, he would skip the bill. He would certainly enjoy some loyalty where his officer had failed him for now though.
"Have a smile, woman and your tips will keep your backside without palm and your breast without eyes." Not that any man wouldnt look, but he could at least assure her that he would protect her for his remainder of stay. Having a woman on your side was always precious because they were incredibly intuned with gossip and manipulation of tongue. She was an asset if she was so easilly looking for a way out (and her mouth, particularly, worked more efficiently).
"Overbearing ye say?" Grinning in amusement Sakura was beginning to admit that she liked this man, at least the way he carried himself. Strong and daring with the right choice of words was how Sakura could describe this gentleman, and a pirate or not, no matter how she disliked the type, she couldn't help but let loose the true smile she hid so well. "If ye promise me that these bloody men will keep their hands off o' me, then consider my alliance with ye." Dipping her head down lower, her lips brushing slightly against Kisame's ear she whispered so that only he could hear, a gentle and melodic voice that rang a completely different tune than before, "And if you grant me freedom, my loyalty shall lie with you forever."
Gingerly taking the mug from Kisame's hand Sakura whisked herself away to the kitchen, her jade orbs filled with hope and optimism. Hope that she would escape this place and optimism that her life would no longer be determined by how much she made in tips.
Returning to the table she set the mug down before Kisame, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No' like I expected ye to pay or anything from the start. But this 'ere be on the house."
Kisame remained indifferent through the minor requests, but was intrigued that her accent slipped away at her genuine, gentle ushers. She wanted off the island, it seemed. But having her off the island would prove useless, so he sipped from his mug and smirked.
"Good girl." he said in reply to her, his own accent concealed by his tone. He was careful to keep his English from mixing with his Danish, else his origin would have been traced and being caught as Kisame the pirate would give a lesser punishment than being caught as Kisame the Pirate lord of the Black sea. The latter would cause trouble.
He held his mug up in gesture to Sakura's retreating form and took a lenghty sip.
Cold brew.
Setting: The tavern Sakura works in at Port Royal
Time: Afternoon
Summary: Sakura encounters the pirate, Kisame. He claims to be on her side. Can she trust him?
Warning(s): None.
It was a long day yet the customers never stopped coming. It was as if some sort of crazy machine was just creating people to walk through that doorway, just to make her life even more miserable. Why Sakura chose to work here, she didn't really know why. Perhaps it was a method to keep herself busy, to keep her mind off of things. Then again, having a full wallet every now and then wasn't such a bad thing either.
Sighing, Sakura placed the tray of dirty dishes before the dishwasher boy and grabbed another full of freshly poured whiskey and ale for a table of Irishmen who were probably the loudest, yet unbelievably, the most pleasant of the bunch. That wasn't to day getting to this group of red-haired loudmouths was going to be a rather easy task. She stared at the obstacle course before her, almost as if she were a delicious rabbit walking through a field of wolves. "Now, why did I have to choose this job?" she mumbled to herself, readying herself for the grabbing and groping that would most likely ensue as she took her first step forward.
It wasn't as bad as it used to be, she kept saying to herself, dodging nimbly from grabbing hands and avoiding the eye contact of hungry stares. Sometimes she even wondered if they simply wanted to touch her or actually take a bite. Shuddering, she finally arrived at her destination. Placing down the tray she swiftly served the men, took her tip, which a drunk Irish man seemed to be excellent at, and continued on her way to the next customer to 'greet' them with her well-developed, fake smile.
Holding the tray like a professional at shoulder level, she shifted her weight to the opposite side asking, "What can I do for you, sir?"
A female tender was always a perk, but at such a well guarded-prestigious-place such as this, Kisame didnt think it would be smart to flirt, beckon, or grope-especially with the guard after him. However, it was simply a tavern and he was taking his first officer's advice to leave the ship to the second and Sai, and to relax. However, he was second guessing himself now that he thought back to seeing his right arm face down on the polished wood. Drinking was definitely fun.
He glanced around for an empty table, but saw none, so he took it upon himself to hold his damaged gun at one of the frailer and skittish looking men, eying the door. "Get up." He said, dropping himself in the now empty seat smugly. He belted the gun which he was hoping to have repaired after the gunpowder was restocked. Now he glanced over at the half empty mug, smirking to himself. The design reminded him of the European beersteins, though they were not the same, of course.
Even with the East Indian Trading Company floating about all over the pith of the world, somewhere such as this port, so close to the British Isles, wouldn't be expected to take after the settling vikings which had been ...removed ages earlier.
As, of course, Kisame did not expect or call himself a saint or martyr, he waved over at the shaken man with the mug, as if offering it before turning his stare at the wench he had looked at earlier. "...." Downing the mug, he slammed it down and smirked. "Pay the woman."
Blinking at the strangely large man causing the first of many-to-come commotions of the night, Sakura gawked at the rashness of this particular individual. Her anger was forcing itself to the surface, but she somehow managed to keep it under control as she took a few smooth breaths and ought to keep her smile on her face. Receiving the payment from the poor individual who was practically manhandled out of his seat, Sakura nodded apologetically in thanks to the gentleman, only getting a smug look and grunt in return. Slightly after the customer exited, a wave of heads following his path, the tavern went back to its usual state of chattering voices and the occasional war song that most likely would end up in another fight. Bloody mongrels the lot of them, thought Sakura to herself, still giving the gentleman before her the most fake of smiles. "An' how may I help you today, sir?"
With a hand on her right hip and the wooden serving tray balanced on her left, she cocked her weight to one side, a move which seemed to catch the attention of a few individuals behind her. Gritting her teeth, for she felt the eyes on her back, she tried to keep hold of her appearance and awaited the gentleman's (if you could call him that) order.
Said gentleman was rather amused by her distraught expression, but made no effort to draw attention to it. He pondered on trying something he normally disliked, but instead, chose to stick to the typical rum with a side of something to eat, "What do you serve food wise?" he asked, looking at her with a smug expression--more so just because he was amused that there was only a girl serving a platter of men.
He refused to have the imported vodka, never tried it and he didnt plan to either.
With a raised eyebrow, Sakura simply nodded giving the strange-looking man what he wanted. It was best to avoid trouble whenever possible, or at least that was her motto in this life. However, today wasn't the best of days to mess with the pink-haired waitress, and even though the man appeared very intimidating and could certainly take down her as well as half the thugs that inhabited the tavern, she still felt the need to push her luck.
Gritting her teeth in a half-smile, half-growl Sakura spat out the names of several dishes on the night's menu as fast as she could, not taking a breath between words, scrambling her words into an incomprehensible mess. Taking quick, deep breaths in order to regain her composure Sakura let slip her facade expression, finally showing all the drunkards around her the true nature that lay within for just a second. Realizing her mistake, she quickly replaced the snarling growl with a sweet smile hoping to whatever God that may exist that it would not be her last thought.
Kisame arched a curious eye brow when the tavern maid suddenly breathed flames and he was reminded of the age old phrase 'Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.' He chuckled and picked up the glass that he had emptied for the troublemaking lad before him, and then slammed it down again. Not loudly, but enough to draw her attention acutely. He made not a comment, whatsoever, of her display but nodded, asking for the third item on the 'menu'. Kisame wasn't a fan of fish dishes, but tonight, around the harbors, he was suddenly turned keen on the idea.
With a wave of his hand, he bid her to take his order, leaning back in his seat, where he looked down at his gun, which had been rendered unrepairable due to the extensive wear and the fact that the model was no longer in production. Kisame thought that there was a nevermind hooked along with such a decree, but he would just as soon find himself with a new gun. He could pawn off the antique, he supposed.
It was a shame though, that it was such an old and held loom--no heir attached to it, Kisame did not care about upholding his name--which his father gave him. It... was a shame to hand it off without a well bartered price aside it.
Sakura swiftly wrote down the order and skillfully dodged and slipped past the crowd of perverts back to the kitchen. Once on the other side of the door, however, the waitress huffed and stomped to the cook who was luckily used to her tantrums and short temper that all he could say was, "What be on order?" Nearly tossing the receipt at the chef in downright outrage, she stomped back to the main dining hall, hoping she got that out of her system. Straightening her outfit she proceeded to serve the gentlemen around her their drinks and orders, the entire time keeping her eye on the strangely huge gentleman who just made her day. It wasn't until the chef shouted out the over-sized baffoon's--or at least that was what Sakura thought of him--order that she realized she was staring. Shaking her head in dismay she quickly made her way to the kitchen once more, pulling out the freshly-made order that smelled so strongly of fish she had to wriggle her nose to get over the suddenly new scent.
Making her way to Kisame's table, her eyes shifted into a slight glare as she came upon her customer, slamming the plate of food down onto the splintered table that wobbled with the forced weight on its surface. "Hope. Ye. Like. It." She emphasized each word, gritting her teeth into a fake smile.
Kisame laughed loudly and looked down at the plate which was wobbling on the run down table, no doubt recieving her scorned anger on more than on occasion. "Something troubling you, Missy?" he asked, trapping her planted wrist by wrapping his fingers around it and placing her next to him, in the emptied seat. "If you have something to say I'd say you say it."
Surprised at the sudden jerking motion, Sakura plopped down roughly on the seat next to the rather muscular gentleman. She held her breath thinking if she made any motion or sound, he would swipe her head off like a ravaged bear. He was, after all, the size of one. Upon his push for an answer, however, she could not let him down, "I be workin' at this 'ere job for several months an' each day customers grow worse an' worse every day." She did not know why she was suddenly speaking so calmly, much less speaking at all, "These kinds o' things, perverse an' trouble causin' fools, just get on my nerves if ye know what I be meanin' to say." Sighing she rested her chin on the back of her hands, her wrists supporting the weight. It was here where she spoke in almost a whisper in a voice that was foreign to her, "If only I could leave it all behind."
Kisame watched her with a small smile and let go of her wrist, waiting for her to retain her structure again before pulling back. "Carry a gun with you, missy." He said again, grinning wildly. "I can sell you one, mine, for a low price if you'd bring me another drink on the house. It's not smart for a tavern maid-- especially someone so young and pretty- to be wandering around in only the dress and apron. And alone at that." He leaned back on his seat and sipped from his mug, humming in contest of the flavor of the brew.
"I can even send you a someone to watch over you. But that would call for the meal to be free as well." He didn't care really. Kisame had well enough to pay for the meal and even more than well enough to jip her, if she rode on his nerves. She wasn't right now anyway, but she was definetly on her way.
"A gun?" It was nearly a whisper, but the intrigue on her eyes seemed to through off the unsure expression from her voice. Sakura turned her head toward the man, eyes growing thinner as her suspicion arose, "Now why would someone such as yourself want to help me? What makes ye so trustworthy that ye shant be cheatin' me?" Her face leaned in closer, ensuring their conversation remained between the two of them, knowing very well eyes and ears were upon them after his 'extravagant' entrance. Brushing a strand of pink hair behind one ear she inquired, "Besides, ye have never told me your name."
Kisame pulled out his old pistol and handed it to her, arching a brow. "Kisame of the Black sea." He said with a small smile, sharp teeth threatening to show themselves off while he looked at her expression. "I have no reason to cheat you, unless you want me to eat and leave now."
He would need a new gun soon enough, and if he rid himself of the old one--and the small match--then it would do him more of favor than of loss.
Definitely a pirate, Sakura nearly sighed to herself, but what else did she mean to expect? The Prince of England? "I suppose ye do no' intend to bring us any harm. However, sir, why do ye plan on giving me, a poor lass, several forms o' protection? Ye could no' honestly give a damn about a random tavern lass, now could ye? It be certainly no' every day that someone such as yourself comes along in a lassie's life, you know?" She was, to put into blunt terms, suspicious. Here comes some random guy, but not just any man, a pirate and up and offers her a gun and a body guard? Just who the hell is this guy and what the heck does he want from me?
Grinning back up at the strange headed woman, Kisame leaned back against the rickety chair, listening to the squeek particularly or else it would have been swallowed up by the loud men around the room. "For airs in all honesty." he said assuredly, reaching up to grab her chin, thumb rubbing her pink cheeks, finger tips groping the skin without intimacy. "And because I can tell 'ye' have quite a mouth. You're dialect would surely get you introuble. Tavern maids are never so over bearing. Wheres your lacking benevolence?" He smirked widely and released her mouth, stretched contently. Once he retracted into his seat, he swallowed back the last of his large mug and handed it to her.
"Refill miss." He said to her and pat her arm lovingly, turning to the meal on his plate. Regardless if she complied, or not, he would skip the bill. He would certainly enjoy some loyalty where his officer had failed him for now though.
"Have a smile, woman and your tips will keep your backside without palm and your breast without eyes." Not that any man wouldnt look, but he could at least assure her that he would protect her for his remainder of stay. Having a woman on your side was always precious because they were incredibly intuned with gossip and manipulation of tongue. She was an asset if she was so easilly looking for a way out (and her mouth, particularly, worked more efficiently).
"Overbearing ye say?" Grinning in amusement Sakura was beginning to admit that she liked this man, at least the way he carried himself. Strong and daring with the right choice of words was how Sakura could describe this gentleman, and a pirate or not, no matter how she disliked the type, she couldn't help but let loose the true smile she hid so well. "If ye promise me that these bloody men will keep their hands off o' me, then consider my alliance with ye." Dipping her head down lower, her lips brushing slightly against Kisame's ear she whispered so that only he could hear, a gentle and melodic voice that rang a completely different tune than before, "And if you grant me freedom, my loyalty shall lie with you forever."
Gingerly taking the mug from Kisame's hand Sakura whisked herself away to the kitchen, her jade orbs filled with hope and optimism. Hope that she would escape this place and optimism that her life would no longer be determined by how much she made in tips.
Returning to the table she set the mug down before Kisame, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No' like I expected ye to pay or anything from the start. But this 'ere be on the house."
Kisame remained indifferent through the minor requests, but was intrigued that her accent slipped away at her genuine, gentle ushers. She wanted off the island, it seemed. But having her off the island would prove useless, so he sipped from his mug and smirked.
"Good girl." he said in reply to her, his own accent concealed by his tone. He was careful to keep his English from mixing with his Danish, else his origin would have been traced and being caught as Kisame the pirate would give a lesser punishment than being caught as Kisame the Pirate lord of the Black sea. The latter would cause trouble.
He held his mug up in gesture to Sakura's retreating form and took a lenghty sip.
Cold brew.