Jane moaned, her entire head pounding painfully. She was laying on her side at the edge of the hallway by the wall she hit. Opening her eyes slightly, she got nauseous and dizzy, forcing her to close her eyes. Lifting a hand, she put it to the spot on her head where the sharpest pain was coming from. Jane felt warm blood, and concluded that she must have hit her head against the wall harder than she thought. Dropping her hand back to the ground, she took in a few deep breaths to steady herself, and tried to push herself up with shaking arms.

Soon Mordecai came hobbling around the corner he had first turned in his escape from the General, and found Jane on the floor still trying to rise. He quickly got down to his knee to help her up carefully. "Jane! Are you alright? Can you stand?"

   Jane sat up and nodded slowly, "Yes, I think so." she looks up at him in confusion, trying to stand, "What happened?" she turned to look at Carson and Connor, her eyebrows coming together in worry for her friends.

Connor was curled into the fetal position, a little vomit smeared across the floor from when the General had kicked him in the stomach. He was unconscious, and so was Carson, whose condition had worsened from loss of blood. He was very pale and breathing shallowly.

Oh dear, thought Mordecai, I'm the only one NOT injured.  Mordecai rested a hand on Connor's shoulder, gently shaking him. "Connor, are you ok? Can you stand?"

Connor groaned and coughed, eyes flickering as he struggled to get them down from being rolled up in the back of his head. "Wha... what?"

Mordecai didn't try to lift Connor just yet, he thought it best to give him some time. "Take it easy Connor, we are still stuck on the General's ship. We need to think of a way off." Mordecai then looked over to Carson on the floor, looking even worse; and the Key still resting in his pocket. "We also need to help Carson somehow." But even Mordecai couldn't think of something real to help him. "Gagh, I wish I was a wizard!"

Connor choked out a laugh at Mordecai's last statement as he laborously pushed himself into a sitting position, raising a hand to his pounding head and then to his bruised midsection. He leaned back against the wall and opened his mouth to speak, but froze before a sound was uttered. His blue eyes bugged and his jaw went slack as he saw something behind Mordecai and Jane; something that knocked the breath out of him as surely as the General's kick had.

Should Mordecai and Jane turn to look, they would see Captain Jackson Knight rounding the corner, alive and walking tall, wringing out the tails of his coat.

Mordecai took a moment to notice Connor's expression, and wondered what the the matter was. Suddenly Mordecai had an inkling, and began to turn slowly.

   Jane put a hand to her head to try and stop the bleeding, her head pounding to the beating of her heart. She frowned at the look on Connor's face, and and turned to look, "What is...?" her voice died in her throat, and it seemed to be replaced with her heart. She stared at Captain Jackson with wide eyes and blood running down the side of her face. That voice had been right, the Captain had come back! She smiled, tears coming to her eyes.

Mordecai stood agape; with his eyes bulging out of his head. He stifled a shout, and swallowed it down. "C-C-C-Caa...?"

The Captain brushed at his heavily sodden jacket and wrinked waistcoat, eyes lowered as he stopped before them. He was still pale and the skin under his eyes looked bruised, but a slight flush of life had returned to his cheeks. His long red hair stuck to his neck and forehead in thick, dark strands. "Gentlemen," he said as he tugged at his lacy sleeve cuffs. "And Jane," he added on. "I'm really sorry about all this." His voice was hoarse and he coughed wetly after he spoke.

Mordecai's expression didn't change. "Well, that's ok," He said breathily. "It's not like I've drowned or anything." Then suddenly Mordecai snapped awake and blinked in awe at the Captain. "You're alive! How is this possible!?"

   A sob came from Jane, and she stood up to stumble into Captain Jackson, her arms wrapping around him in a hug. Seeing him alive again made her feel like everything was going to be alright. She wasn't abandoned, he wasn't dead, how could things get any better?

   Her head rushed dizzly after she stood up, but Jane looked up at Jackson with clear eyes, "Was it her?" she whispered, "The voice?"

Captain Knight wobbled a bit when Jane stumbled into him, and his arms hovered awkwardly for a moment before settling on her back and patting her reassuringly. His lank hair dripped water on Jane's head and his clothes were sopping and cold. His eyes showed a little confusion at her words, as well as a surprising tenderness that showed the depth of his fondness for her. "Her, yes. I'll explain later, and I expect you'll have a little explaining to do as well."
He gently took her arms at the elbows and pushed her to arms length, toward Mordecai. "But right now, we need to concentrate on escape. It's only a matter of time before we're discovered or the bodies are discovered, so we need a plan to get off this hell-ship."

Mordecai shrugged. "I got over by swinging out a window, by a rope, out of the back of our ship. But I doubt that we can get back the same way."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:36, Mon 27 Feb 2012.

   Jane set a hand against the wall, mixed feelings filling her up. Happiness, confusion, fright. The situation was unique, both joyfull and terrifying. Jane decided to go into slight shock, and deal with the emotions after they had gotten off the ship. Putting a hand to her head, she had seemed to stop bleeding for now, she looked at Captain Jackson, "Could we steal a lifeboat?"

Jackson leaned back a little as his hand went to his chin, considering Jane and Mordecai's input. "This ship is large enough to harbor a lifeboat or two. But there's no way we can get up on deck without being seen... unless we had a distraction." They could practically see the gears turning in his head, and a wicked smile spread across his face. "I've got an idea. Word should have spread by now about my supposed death, but they're keeping it quiet, waiting for the General's orders to attack the Cloudcutter. I'll go up on deck and give them a haunting they won't soon forget. While they're occupied with me, you three, carrying Carson, will sneak aboard one of the lifeboats." His piercing green gaze went to Conner, who was staring at his Captain with relieved tears in his eyes. "Conner will pilot it. You'll bring it up and out fast, and cruise along-side the Maleficent to pick me up." Conner nodded confidently.

Mordecai hefted Carson up over both shoulders carefully; discreetly checking his pocket for the hidden key while he did so. Once Carson was up, Mordecai stood with Carson almost laid out on top of him. "I have but one question," he said, "Do I get to kill more of those blood-sucking pigs later?"

...
   They all stood breathless at the bottom of the stairs that led to the deck. Jane's eyes were fixed on the figure of the Captain at the top of the stairs above them. She stood behind Mordecai and Connor. They had decided that if he was to stear the life boat, he should be in first. Then Mordecai to get Carson on, and Jane to take up the rear.
   Her heart was pounding, and her mind kept going back to the voice she had heard when Captain Jackson was, dead. She pinched her eyes shut, forced it from her mind, and looked back to the Captain.

Mordecai shrugged Carson on his shoulders, not allowing himself to admit that he was starting to get tired. "We're ready when you are Captain, break a leg... or two, heheheh." Mordecai was ready to move the moment Connor was clear, and he couldn't wait.

Captain Jackson waved a quieting hand down at them, then reached up to reflexivly pat his sodden jacket. It was utterly ruined, and his best scarlet silk waistcoat, too. His long red hair was still plastered to his face and neck, moisture leaking from the tips. Darkened by the water it looked rather like fresh blood, and Jackson knew he didn't look the elegant captain he liked to appear as. In fact, he looked like he had one foot in the grave. He smirked as he watched the deck carefully for the right moment to appear. He was counting on that.

Not so long ago, he had been dead. He remembered the tight urgency of his body, the growing, undeniable need to take a breath. The cold agony of water filling his lungs, of choking on it until all pain ceased and there had been blissful, heavy silence and a glimmering light above him. Then even that had gone, replaced by darkness where, for the first time in years, the burden of the curse had been lifted from his soul.

That had been nice. But now it was back, and all the weight of his duty with it. He swallowed down his disappointment; he was almost sorry that dirtbag Ribische hadn't lived long enough to experience the full brunt of the curse, and realize what a foolish thing it was to want it.

It had hurt, coming back to life. He had awoken, choking out a surprising amount of water, catching the barest movement to his side, where Dillon, General Ribische's twisted assisstant, was slumping lifeless to the ground.

When Jackson saw the gaping wound on the back of the Patrolman's head, he knew that the spirit in the music box must have breifly animated the corpse and pressed the water out of his lungs, got is heart moving again. He also knew the spirit must have suffered greatly in order to accomplish that, and was touched that she would go to such lengths for his sake. When this was all over, he would thank her. Maybe also ask her how, with him dead, she had managed to have any influence on this plane.

He felt shaky and ill. His breathing was raspy and he could almost feel a little water still sloshing around in his sore chest. He was very thoroughly chilled, but had to concentrate on the task at hand. He flashed a confident grin in the direction of Jane and his boys, before straightening up and regally stalking out into the open, in full view of most of the crew out on deck.
"Greetings, malcontents. I have returned from the dead to wreak my awful vengeance on your sorry hides. Prepare to die."

The effect was incredible. About half crouched and cowered in terror, and the other half ran. One or two fainted dead away. Captain Knight smiled wickedly and motioned behind him for the others to come up.
"There is no escape!" he thundered, laughing horribly and advancing on those who were cowering, a languid, dripping, pale phantom. A few more slumped to the deck.

   Following behind the boys in a mad rush, Jane cleared the stairs last and followed the boys to the side of the ship. She glanced over her shoulder to the panicing crew, and did not see any of the horrified sailors even glance their way. She smiled to herself faintly, and looked back to see Connor in the lifeboat, and Mordecai stepping in carefully with Carson over his shoulder.
   With another glance to the Captain, she climbed down into the lifeboat to take a seat beside Connor and across from Mordecai.

Mordecai lowered Carson into the netting and stowage at the bottom of the life boat, and without hesitation drew his hatchet and started climbing back onto the deck.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Wed 25 Feb 2015.

Connor pointed at Mordecai. "Stop him! he cried. "We've got to take off!"

Captain Jackson's laughter turned briefly into a hacking cough, and he thumped his fist against his chest a few times. When he looked up he saw a few of the Patrolmen who had run off were peeking at him from behind cover, and one or two were quite obviously getting over their fear and reaching for their weapons.

Jackson took as deep a breath as he could manage in waterlogged lungs. "BEWARE! My touch is damnation for all eternity!" That made a few more shrink behind their cover, but not for long.