Original story tiem!
Title: Seize the day
Rating: T for language and violence
The crowd was bustling with excitement as the evening’s main show was about to start. Waiters were dashing around in perfect order as the delicious scent of luxurious dinner and chatter filled the air.
It was the opening night of a new play on the dinner-theatre ship The Traveller's Flail. All the fine folk of Fallcourt had gathered to see what was bound to be the hot topic of the season at all social gatherings. Seated around semi-circle tables designed to maximize all attendees’ views of the play, the audience was exchanging views of what they expected or hoped the play Aprovecha el día would show them.
However, unbeknownst to the crème of the crème, a heinous scheme was also about to unfold that night. In the shadows of the grand pillars supporting the hall was a man, his formal dress and knowing grin giving off a very definite air of confidence. The man held up decorative opera glasses, not for actual interest to see the play in detail, but rather to look around the venue freely, decreasing the risk of anyone recognizing him from the wanted posters scattered around in most towns and cities around the world. ‘Lance Hunter’, the posters would read under a photo, continuing with ‘Dangerous criminal’, ‘captain of a pirate crew’ and several warnings to stay away, ending with the mention of a bounty, namely a very hefty sum of money that even the wealthy attendees of the play wouldn’t scoff at.
Lance smiled. The evening had proceeded exactly according to their plan. Disposing of or replacing the guard for the ship loaded with rich people and their need to show off their wealth well beforehand and infiltrating the Traveller’s Flail without raising suspicion, his men from his carefully selected crew were scattered throughout the vessel to control the situation all around once the plan was put in action. The captain scanned around the hall once more for any leftover guard staff or other possible troublemakers, was satisfied with the result and started making his way towards the stage, along the wall to not attract attention but determinedly enough to make any noticing him pay no further mind.
Approaching the side entrance to the heart of the theatre ship, the pirate took a moment to slide his fingers along the ornate sword strapped to his waist. While extremely decorated looks meant the weapon was less mobile and durable, Lance thought the trade-off was well worth it, as such an expensive-looking sword need not be hidden even at fancy parties; it was simply regarded as another accessory, a way to show off your wealth or status. A fancy and thus less energy-capacious gun was also on his person that evening, but the projectile weapon was much less obvious, hidden by his long coat. The delinquent wasn’t there to take lives, and the small pistol would be quite sufficient for his needs.
Arriving by the backstage door, Lance went through the plan in his head once more. It was a very simple but perhaps unnecessarily extravagant plan. The man chuckled. He couldn’t resist putting on a show when the heist was to take place at a theatre, especially the premiere of their new play. Aprovecha el día indeed… These days, it was all the rage in the make-believe industries to borrow words from lengua muerta los piratas, an ancient language only spoken by pirates in the modern era. Lance assumed the playwright only knew the meaning of his story’s name, no more of the language now associated with scoundrels despite its flowing sound that the delinquent occasionally found to be the most pleasant of music for his ears.
The pirate reached for the handle on the door next to him. A decorated sign on the mahogany door clearly read ‘Authorized personnel only’, but according to plan, it was unlocked, and the self-authorized man took a look inside. Their intelligence had been correct, and the right side of the backstage was largely empty, the few persons present being far too busy with their duties to perfect the play scheduled to start very shortly. Lance stepped inside and closed the door behind him without making a sound. He did have a story about being friends with one of the lead actors to fall back on if his presence was questioned, but none of the theatre staff seemed to bother with him. Poor fools are probably used to security making sure individuals like me don’t enter, Lance chuckled and casually walked closer to the stage, taking a position right by the steps leading to the stage itself.
Now, all that was left was to wait for his cue to enter. The plan was that once the theatre’s announcer had finished her greeting words and the curtain was drawn, one of Lance’s men was to ask her to stop, possibly with the minor encouragement of a blade on the woman’s throat. After the hall had gone quiet, the captain himself would walk on the stage and announce the vessel was under his control. To enhance the impact of his words, to make sure no-one believed it to be part of the play, he would fire some shots upwards while another of his minions would enter the stage with the production’s male lead at gunpoint. Simultaneously the rest of his crew would secure the theatre ship in all areas to ensure the hijacking went smoothly. They would collect all valuables from the stunned and frightened nobles and upstarts, and take their leave before the world outside The Traveller’s Flail had any idea something other than the play’s first act had taken place.
Gazing at the set still devoid of people, Lance allowed himself a wide, mischievous grin. Any second now, the lights on the audience’s side of the hall would go dim, the curtain would be drawn and the loudspeakers would blare for just a moment before his grand entran-
THUD. Lance’s thought was cut short as his mind barely registered a sharp pain on the back of his head, then the world around him abruptly went white, his senses screamed to stop himself from falling before the world went black.
One second, two, five, perhaps ten seconds later the delinquent regained consciousness, painstakingly attempting to pry his eyes open to find himself on the floor. His head hurt terribly, he could hardly move, he heard voices coming both from just above him and further away but his mind couldn’t make out anything being said.
“Unnh…” the pirate grumbled, attempting to piece himself back together. The voices around him became clearer, he regained the ability to move his head and spotted a pair of feet nearby just before he felt his arms being yanked backwards. He could finally make sense of the words being spoken, even if it took him a moment to catch on from the middle of the conversation.
“I don’t know, boss. We just found him snoopin’ around here all suspiciously…” a bristling female voice said from above. Lance squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to improve his thought process’ recovery. Snooping? Had there been a guard left unnoticed despite their precautions? But who was that speaking, he didn’t recognize the voice… Suddenly Lance felt something tighten around his wrists, and the unexpected physical sensation not only caused him to flinch but also sent a jolt of realization throughout his body; but by then, it was too late to resist, as his arms had been tightly bound behind his back.
Adrenalin rushed within him as the pirate’s breathing accelerated, his mind simultaneously scolding him for letting his guard down and trying to figure out how bad was the situation. His restraints felt too tight to undo by himself in the time he had available, so the vastly overpowered man decided to focus on the situation around him. Were these people traitors within his crew? Lance quickly dismissed the option as he didn’t recognize any of the three people gathered there. How many of these unidentified people were there? If the enemy was numerous and with the law enforcement, the situation was extremely dire and the delinquent would have to be prepared to take any desperate measures to keep his head…
“Looks like your average spoiled brat to me. Wouldn’t he do just fine, boss?” a burly male voice asked, and Lance’s lips allowed a surprised gasp to escape as he was suddenly lifted up by the man speaking, the same man that had tied him up moments before. Lance attempted to keep his cool, definitely not show any panic on his features as the man he assumed to be the boss inspected him. He struggled to not yelp as the slightly unkempt man fiddled Lance’s extravagant sword out of the belt supporting it and off his hip and watched his captor inspect it.
“This’ a fancy blade you got here, fella. You even know how to use it?” the man taunted. Lance’s brow furrowed but he refrained from voicing any of his provocative answers, but he was pleased the sword’s appearance distracted the man from questioning why he carried a weapon. The gang’s leader snorted and looked at his underlings as he spoke.
“Can’t tell what this fancypants was really here for but I reckon he’ll do jus’ fine. Better shut that mouth jus’ in case though, ya never know if he’ll get too talkative if he sees any friends there”, was his verdict, and he nodded at his female underling. As Lance was held in place by the burly man who’d restrained him as well, he couldn’t see what exactly the woman was doing, but soon enough she walked up to face their hostage and held up a thick black cloth as if it was sort of a bizarre offering. The pirate glanced at the rag with contempt, but he was acutely aware of how horribly the odds were against him; as he’d rather not have the strangers pry open his jaws by force, Lance obediently opened his mouth and allowed the woman to place the cloth deep between his lips and tie it behind his head, effectively gagging him. Their boss than yanked him from the stronger man’s grab, handing Lance’s sword over to the tall grunt instead. As the restrained man turned his head to see what caused the cold feeling on his arm, he saw his captor tightly gripping a gun. Suddenly on the background the sluggish foreword to the play came to an end, but before Lance could really begin to worry over the safety of the man he’d ordered to stop the speech much earlier, the strangers’ boss forced him to move along in the direction of the stage.
“Alright, it’s show time!” The group began taking the steps onto the platform. Lance hesitated briefly, but with the unkempt man’s one arm around him and the other pushing the cold steel of the gun tightly against his sleeve he had little choice but to step higher, onto the stage he had originally intended to conquer himself, but now he had been stripped of his freedom, unsure of his captors’ agenda. The delinquent’s eyes widened as they came into the view of the audience and the gun-toting man addressed the people bewilderedly staring onto the stage, switching the aim of his weapon onto Lance’s head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this’ a robbery by yours truly, Jirair and his crew! Stay calm and no-one has to get hurt! We have this whole boat under control, so if ya would please follow my directions immediately, this pretty boy will get to keep his brain intact!” Several of the hijacker’s armed underlings appeared from amongst the crowd, several people around the hall screamed and at least one elderly couple fainted, but Lance hardly noticed. His head was an utter disaster zone. How the FUCK had it turned out this way?! HE was supposed to be the hijacker! It was supposed to be HIM in the spotlight giving orders to the terrified crowd! Captain Lance Hunter was the bad guy here, not the…hostage…!! The pirate wasn’t sure if his strongest feeling at the moment was anger over the new bunch taking over his heist, embarrassment for being tied up and held at gunpoint in front of all these people, or plain disbelief of the odds of two groups targeting to hijack the same ship on the same night.
As Jirair’s gang of robbers began extracting their loot from the wealthy audience under the guidance of the burly man and woman that had tied him up, Lance glanced around the hall and spotted several of his men among the crowd, though having largely disguised as waiters or less flashy nobility they were not the thieves’ priority as targets. A wave of guilt spread over the captain as he realized his crew could was not taking action as they did not wish to risk their trusted leader, who just so happened to have ended up with their rivals’ boss’ gun to his head. Lance considered his options. Being kidnapped by the group for ransom or to ensure a safe escape did not interest him in the least… and even if the hijackers left peacefully, the marines would arrive sooner or later, and he would still be screwed over big time; even if these numskulls had not recognized him, the law enforcement was practically guaranteed to do so. The captain did not appreciate taking risks when his own life was at risk on point blank range, but the situation very much demanded some radical measures. He took a deep breath.
As the enemy boss was focused on directing his underlings in gathering their bounty, Lance gathered all his strength and delivered the man a furious kick to the shin. Jirair yelped in pain and surprise and instinctively pulled the trigger his finger had been resting on; a loud bang ran throughout the hall as the shot blasted through the air hitting the ceiling somewhere further away, and Lance broke free from the hold and rapidly turned around, using his advantage of surprise to aim his next kick. Though his foot did not connect with the man’s hand, the blow managed to cause the opponent to drop the gun.
Unfortunately Jirair was quick to react, and he managed to get a hold of the pirate’s leg, causing the handicapped man to lose balance and fall hard on his back. Lance’s groan of pain was muffled by the gag, but he did not let the setback stop him and aimed his heel at Jirair’s knee, hitting the man’s joint and causing a nasty crackling sound. As his opponent cried out in pain and fell down, Lance quickly began wrestling his arms from beneath him, the ropes bit into his wrists as the pirate bent and stretched his back and arms to get his hands to his front. He exhaled in relief when his wrists hit the back of his knees, swiftly got his legs out of the way and drew the gun Jirair’s gang had neglected to notice he possessed. Lance took the safety off lightning-fast and aimed his pistol at the opponent in the nick of time, as the man had just drawn the sword he’d stolen to charge at the unruly hostage with. Jirair stopped on the spot and raised his hands in the air; as hurtful as it was to his pride to admit defeat to a man he’d just held prisoner and who still had his arms bound, the robber wasn’t going to forfeit his life over it.
As soon as the pirate captain had taken action, his crew had also taken up arms and mostly easily defeated Jirair’s men who had not expected much resistance, much less on such a large scale and from experienced fighters. The whole audience side of the hall was in an uproar as the folk gathered to see the play were in a state of confusion about the identity the new armed force. Many took the chance to escape and ran through the doors past the guards of both groups of hijackers, some assumed the latter fighters were marine forces ambushing the thieves while others were plain dumbfounded and fearing for their lives, attempting to hide.
On the stage, Lance continued to aim his gun at the boss of the opposing group, pistol in left hand while supporting it with his right arm, still bound together at the wrists, all the while stealing glances at his sides to avoid getting ambushed for a second time. Before either leader had to figure their next move, Lance’s left-hand man jumped on the stage and dashed to her captain’s side. She immediately undid the knot on the gag and threw the cloth aside, asking Lance if he was alright as the pirate got up from the floor, still pointing the gun’s barrel at Jirair. The captain grunted, affirming, and nodded at his aide to free his arms too. He glared at the man before him and spat in his direction, both to show his contempt and to attempt to get the feel and taste of the gag out of his mouth. The leaders looked each other directly in the eyes.
“So yer not any ordinary fella after all, you rat”, Jirair snarled and dropped the blade he’d acquired from Lance while the other man’s underling gave up on untying the ropes and instead drew her knife, earning a brief look of concern from the captain before she had the first layer of rope already cut through. Lance focused his attention on the person who had ruined his heist and humiliated him in front of so many people.
“The name Lance Hunter ring any bells?” he scoffed and stretched his wrists immediately after he was finally freed, before walking over to the man he now held overflowing contempt for. The pirate saw from Jirair’s face he indeed had heard of him and scowled at the mild surprise and respect that appeared on the thief’s features, mixed with pride and schadenfreude over having held such an impressive delinquent prisoner.
“So yer crew was the reason the guard was so lax? A’ least someone got their job done, huh, jailbird?” Jirair taunted, carelessly adding insult to the already excessive injury to the captain’s pride.
“On your knees, you little shit!” Lance snapped and shot the man in the knee he hadn’t injured before. Jirair growled in pain and fell down, blood spattering on the stage’s wooden paneling as he tried to stop the flow with his hands until the pirate kicked him in the forehead, the force pushing him on his back. Lance stepped on the man’s chest without sparing the force and reached down to pick up his sword, leaving the sheath Jirair had already drawn the blade from. He promptly pointed its tip at the face of the man he’d beaten to the floor. Lance’s breathing was heavy with rage, but he forced his anger to begin to subside and stepped off his enemy, not removing the sword’s edge from his throat yet. In the corner of his eye the captain saw another crewmember rush to his third-in-charge and exchange information.
“Captain! The escaped audience members have alerted the marines and they are reportedly on the move. We should retreat”, she relayed the intel, and Lance nodded in agreement.
“Let’s go. Tell everyone to grab whatever valuables they can on the way though, I’d rather not this heist end a complete disastrous waste of time”, he added and rolled his eyes before turning back to their competition’s leader, now starting to look slightly pale, in stark contrast to the red liquid spreading along the stage from his trashed knee. Lance avoided stepping in the puddle and gave the Jirair his coldest and most heartless gaze.
“Never cross me again, or I will end you”, he swore in low voice and turned on his heels, and determinedly walked out of the severely more demolished theatre, not once looking back at the venue of his foiled grandiose scheme, cursing whatever higher power had led into the incredibly unlucky events.
Author's note: the pirate language quotes are Spanish but it's not supposed to be Spanish, just based on it, so please don't throw bricks at me if they're a little off. ^^;;
Rating: T for language and violence
The crowd was bustling with excitement as the evening’s main show was about to start. Waiters were dashing around in perfect order as the delicious scent of luxurious dinner and chatter filled the air.
It was the opening night of a new play on the dinner-theatre ship The Traveller's Flail. All the fine folk of Fallcourt had gathered to see what was bound to be the hot topic of the season at all social gatherings. Seated around semi-circle tables designed to maximize all attendees’ views of the play, the audience was exchanging views of what they expected or hoped the play Aprovecha el día would show them.
However, unbeknownst to the crème of the crème, a heinous scheme was also about to unfold that night. In the shadows of the grand pillars supporting the hall was a man, his formal dress and knowing grin giving off a very definite air of confidence. The man held up decorative opera glasses, not for actual interest to see the play in detail, but rather to look around the venue freely, decreasing the risk of anyone recognizing him from the wanted posters scattered around in most towns and cities around the world. ‘Lance Hunter’, the posters would read under a photo, continuing with ‘Dangerous criminal’, ‘captain of a pirate crew’ and several warnings to stay away, ending with the mention of a bounty, namely a very hefty sum of money that even the wealthy attendees of the play wouldn’t scoff at.
Lance smiled. The evening had proceeded exactly according to their plan. Disposing of or replacing the guard for the ship loaded with rich people and their need to show off their wealth well beforehand and infiltrating the Traveller’s Flail without raising suspicion, his men from his carefully selected crew were scattered throughout the vessel to control the situation all around once the plan was put in action. The captain scanned around the hall once more for any leftover guard staff or other possible troublemakers, was satisfied with the result and started making his way towards the stage, along the wall to not attract attention but determinedly enough to make any noticing him pay no further mind.
Approaching the side entrance to the heart of the theatre ship, the pirate took a moment to slide his fingers along the ornate sword strapped to his waist. While extremely decorated looks meant the weapon was less mobile and durable, Lance thought the trade-off was well worth it, as such an expensive-looking sword need not be hidden even at fancy parties; it was simply regarded as another accessory, a way to show off your wealth or status. A fancy and thus less energy-capacious gun was also on his person that evening, but the projectile weapon was much less obvious, hidden by his long coat. The delinquent wasn’t there to take lives, and the small pistol would be quite sufficient for his needs.
Arriving by the backstage door, Lance went through the plan in his head once more. It was a very simple but perhaps unnecessarily extravagant plan. The man chuckled. He couldn’t resist putting on a show when the heist was to take place at a theatre, especially the premiere of their new play. Aprovecha el día indeed… These days, it was all the rage in the make-believe industries to borrow words from lengua muerta los piratas, an ancient language only spoken by pirates in the modern era. Lance assumed the playwright only knew the meaning of his story’s name, no more of the language now associated with scoundrels despite its flowing sound that the delinquent occasionally found to be the most pleasant of music for his ears.
The pirate reached for the handle on the door next to him. A decorated sign on the mahogany door clearly read ‘Authorized personnel only’, but according to plan, it was unlocked, and the self-authorized man took a look inside. Their intelligence had been correct, and the right side of the backstage was largely empty, the few persons present being far too busy with their duties to perfect the play scheduled to start very shortly. Lance stepped inside and closed the door behind him without making a sound. He did have a story about being friends with one of the lead actors to fall back on if his presence was questioned, but none of the theatre staff seemed to bother with him. Poor fools are probably used to security making sure individuals like me don’t enter, Lance chuckled and casually walked closer to the stage, taking a position right by the steps leading to the stage itself.
Now, all that was left was to wait for his cue to enter. The plan was that once the theatre’s announcer had finished her greeting words and the curtain was drawn, one of Lance’s men was to ask her to stop, possibly with the minor encouragement of a blade on the woman’s throat. After the hall had gone quiet, the captain himself would walk on the stage and announce the vessel was under his control. To enhance the impact of his words, to make sure no-one believed it to be part of the play, he would fire some shots upwards while another of his minions would enter the stage with the production’s male lead at gunpoint. Simultaneously the rest of his crew would secure the theatre ship in all areas to ensure the hijacking went smoothly. They would collect all valuables from the stunned and frightened nobles and upstarts, and take their leave before the world outside The Traveller’s Flail had any idea something other than the play’s first act had taken place.
Gazing at the set still devoid of people, Lance allowed himself a wide, mischievous grin. Any second now, the lights on the audience’s side of the hall would go dim, the curtain would be drawn and the loudspeakers would blare for just a moment before his grand entran-
THUD. Lance’s thought was cut short as his mind barely registered a sharp pain on the back of his head, then the world around him abruptly went white, his senses screamed to stop himself from falling before the world went black.
One second, two, five, perhaps ten seconds later the delinquent regained consciousness, painstakingly attempting to pry his eyes open to find himself on the floor. His head hurt terribly, he could hardly move, he heard voices coming both from just above him and further away but his mind couldn’t make out anything being said.
“Unnh…” the pirate grumbled, attempting to piece himself back together. The voices around him became clearer, he regained the ability to move his head and spotted a pair of feet nearby just before he felt his arms being yanked backwards. He could finally make sense of the words being spoken, even if it took him a moment to catch on from the middle of the conversation.
“I don’t know, boss. We just found him snoopin’ around here all suspiciously…” a bristling female voice said from above. Lance squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to improve his thought process’ recovery. Snooping? Had there been a guard left unnoticed despite their precautions? But who was that speaking, he didn’t recognize the voice… Suddenly Lance felt something tighten around his wrists, and the unexpected physical sensation not only caused him to flinch but also sent a jolt of realization throughout his body; but by then, it was too late to resist, as his arms had been tightly bound behind his back.
Adrenalin rushed within him as the pirate’s breathing accelerated, his mind simultaneously scolding him for letting his guard down and trying to figure out how bad was the situation. His restraints felt too tight to undo by himself in the time he had available, so the vastly overpowered man decided to focus on the situation around him. Were these people traitors within his crew? Lance quickly dismissed the option as he didn’t recognize any of the three people gathered there. How many of these unidentified people were there? If the enemy was numerous and with the law enforcement, the situation was extremely dire and the delinquent would have to be prepared to take any desperate measures to keep his head…
“Looks like your average spoiled brat to me. Wouldn’t he do just fine, boss?” a burly male voice asked, and Lance’s lips allowed a surprised gasp to escape as he was suddenly lifted up by the man speaking, the same man that had tied him up moments before. Lance attempted to keep his cool, definitely not show any panic on his features as the man he assumed to be the boss inspected him. He struggled to not yelp as the slightly unkempt man fiddled Lance’s extravagant sword out of the belt supporting it and off his hip and watched his captor inspect it.
“This’ a fancy blade you got here, fella. You even know how to use it?” the man taunted. Lance’s brow furrowed but he refrained from voicing any of his provocative answers, but he was pleased the sword’s appearance distracted the man from questioning why he carried a weapon. The gang’s leader snorted and looked at his underlings as he spoke.
“Can’t tell what this fancypants was really here for but I reckon he’ll do jus’ fine. Better shut that mouth jus’ in case though, ya never know if he’ll get too talkative if he sees any friends there”, was his verdict, and he nodded at his female underling. As Lance was held in place by the burly man who’d restrained him as well, he couldn’t see what exactly the woman was doing, but soon enough she walked up to face their hostage and held up a thick black cloth as if it was sort of a bizarre offering. The pirate glanced at the rag with contempt, but he was acutely aware of how horribly the odds were against him; as he’d rather not have the strangers pry open his jaws by force, Lance obediently opened his mouth and allowed the woman to place the cloth deep between his lips and tie it behind his head, effectively gagging him. Their boss than yanked him from the stronger man’s grab, handing Lance’s sword over to the tall grunt instead. As the restrained man turned his head to see what caused the cold feeling on his arm, he saw his captor tightly gripping a gun. Suddenly on the background the sluggish foreword to the play came to an end, but before Lance could really begin to worry over the safety of the man he’d ordered to stop the speech much earlier, the strangers’ boss forced him to move along in the direction of the stage.
“Alright, it’s show time!” The group began taking the steps onto the platform. Lance hesitated briefly, but with the unkempt man’s one arm around him and the other pushing the cold steel of the gun tightly against his sleeve he had little choice but to step higher, onto the stage he had originally intended to conquer himself, but now he had been stripped of his freedom, unsure of his captors’ agenda. The delinquent’s eyes widened as they came into the view of the audience and the gun-toting man addressed the people bewilderedly staring onto the stage, switching the aim of his weapon onto Lance’s head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this’ a robbery by yours truly, Jirair and his crew! Stay calm and no-one has to get hurt! We have this whole boat under control, so if ya would please follow my directions immediately, this pretty boy will get to keep his brain intact!” Several of the hijacker’s armed underlings appeared from amongst the crowd, several people around the hall screamed and at least one elderly couple fainted, but Lance hardly noticed. His head was an utter disaster zone. How the FUCK had it turned out this way?! HE was supposed to be the hijacker! It was supposed to be HIM in the spotlight giving orders to the terrified crowd! Captain Lance Hunter was the bad guy here, not the…hostage…!! The pirate wasn’t sure if his strongest feeling at the moment was anger over the new bunch taking over his heist, embarrassment for being tied up and held at gunpoint in front of all these people, or plain disbelief of the odds of two groups targeting to hijack the same ship on the same night.
As Jirair’s gang of robbers began extracting their loot from the wealthy audience under the guidance of the burly man and woman that had tied him up, Lance glanced around the hall and spotted several of his men among the crowd, though having largely disguised as waiters or less flashy nobility they were not the thieves’ priority as targets. A wave of guilt spread over the captain as he realized his crew could was not taking action as they did not wish to risk their trusted leader, who just so happened to have ended up with their rivals’ boss’ gun to his head. Lance considered his options. Being kidnapped by the group for ransom or to ensure a safe escape did not interest him in the least… and even if the hijackers left peacefully, the marines would arrive sooner or later, and he would still be screwed over big time; even if these numskulls had not recognized him, the law enforcement was practically guaranteed to do so. The captain did not appreciate taking risks when his own life was at risk on point blank range, but the situation very much demanded some radical measures. He took a deep breath.
As the enemy boss was focused on directing his underlings in gathering their bounty, Lance gathered all his strength and delivered the man a furious kick to the shin. Jirair yelped in pain and surprise and instinctively pulled the trigger his finger had been resting on; a loud bang ran throughout the hall as the shot blasted through the air hitting the ceiling somewhere further away, and Lance broke free from the hold and rapidly turned around, using his advantage of surprise to aim his next kick. Though his foot did not connect with the man’s hand, the blow managed to cause the opponent to drop the gun.
Unfortunately Jirair was quick to react, and he managed to get a hold of the pirate’s leg, causing the handicapped man to lose balance and fall hard on his back. Lance’s groan of pain was muffled by the gag, but he did not let the setback stop him and aimed his heel at Jirair’s knee, hitting the man’s joint and causing a nasty crackling sound. As his opponent cried out in pain and fell down, Lance quickly began wrestling his arms from beneath him, the ropes bit into his wrists as the pirate bent and stretched his back and arms to get his hands to his front. He exhaled in relief when his wrists hit the back of his knees, swiftly got his legs out of the way and drew the gun Jirair’s gang had neglected to notice he possessed. Lance took the safety off lightning-fast and aimed his pistol at the opponent in the nick of time, as the man had just drawn the sword he’d stolen to charge at the unruly hostage with. Jirair stopped on the spot and raised his hands in the air; as hurtful as it was to his pride to admit defeat to a man he’d just held prisoner and who still had his arms bound, the robber wasn’t going to forfeit his life over it.
As soon as the pirate captain had taken action, his crew had also taken up arms and mostly easily defeated Jirair’s men who had not expected much resistance, much less on such a large scale and from experienced fighters. The whole audience side of the hall was in an uproar as the folk gathered to see the play were in a state of confusion about the identity the new armed force. Many took the chance to escape and ran through the doors past the guards of both groups of hijackers, some assumed the latter fighters were marine forces ambushing the thieves while others were plain dumbfounded and fearing for their lives, attempting to hide.
On the stage, Lance continued to aim his gun at the boss of the opposing group, pistol in left hand while supporting it with his right arm, still bound together at the wrists, all the while stealing glances at his sides to avoid getting ambushed for a second time. Before either leader had to figure their next move, Lance’s left-hand man jumped on the stage and dashed to her captain’s side. She immediately undid the knot on the gag and threw the cloth aside, asking Lance if he was alright as the pirate got up from the floor, still pointing the gun’s barrel at Jirair. The captain grunted, affirming, and nodded at his aide to free his arms too. He glared at the man before him and spat in his direction, both to show his contempt and to attempt to get the feel and taste of the gag out of his mouth. The leaders looked each other directly in the eyes.
“So yer not any ordinary fella after all, you rat”, Jirair snarled and dropped the blade he’d acquired from Lance while the other man’s underling gave up on untying the ropes and instead drew her knife, earning a brief look of concern from the captain before she had the first layer of rope already cut through. Lance focused his attention on the person who had ruined his heist and humiliated him in front of so many people.
“The name Lance Hunter ring any bells?” he scoffed and stretched his wrists immediately after he was finally freed, before walking over to the man he now held overflowing contempt for. The pirate saw from Jirair’s face he indeed had heard of him and scowled at the mild surprise and respect that appeared on the thief’s features, mixed with pride and schadenfreude over having held such an impressive delinquent prisoner.
“So yer crew was the reason the guard was so lax? A’ least someone got their job done, huh, jailbird?” Jirair taunted, carelessly adding insult to the already excessive injury to the captain’s pride.
“On your knees, you little shit!” Lance snapped and shot the man in the knee he hadn’t injured before. Jirair growled in pain and fell down, blood spattering on the stage’s wooden paneling as he tried to stop the flow with his hands until the pirate kicked him in the forehead, the force pushing him on his back. Lance stepped on the man’s chest without sparing the force and reached down to pick up his sword, leaving the sheath Jirair had already drawn the blade from. He promptly pointed its tip at the face of the man he’d beaten to the floor. Lance’s breathing was heavy with rage, but he forced his anger to begin to subside and stepped off his enemy, not removing the sword’s edge from his throat yet. In the corner of his eye the captain saw another crewmember rush to his third-in-charge and exchange information.
“Captain! The escaped audience members have alerted the marines and they are reportedly on the move. We should retreat”, she relayed the intel, and Lance nodded in agreement.
“Let’s go. Tell everyone to grab whatever valuables they can on the way though, I’d rather not this heist end a complete disastrous waste of time”, he added and rolled his eyes before turning back to their competition’s leader, now starting to look slightly pale, in stark contrast to the red liquid spreading along the stage from his trashed knee. Lance avoided stepping in the puddle and gave the Jirair his coldest and most heartless gaze.
“Never cross me again, or I will end you”, he swore in low voice and turned on his heels, and determinedly walked out of the severely more demolished theatre, not once looking back at the venue of his foiled grandiose scheme, cursing whatever higher power had led into the incredibly unlucky events.
Author's note: the pirate language quotes are Spanish but it's not supposed to be Spanish, just based on it, so please don't throw bricks at me if they're a little off. ^^;;