Collector of Odd

XVIII |A Heart Full of Fire|

She laughs among the bloodshed, hold steady to your swords.

          "Ye know, Marty.. I've never enjoyed a fight, death is something we gypsies aren't fancy of. However, new tides will be rolling in, maybe I'll learn to love blood shed, only Calypso truly knows." Mirela was standing by her favorite imp of a man, her eyes locked on the mist in front of her. Marty, glanced up to stare at the gypsy, his light hued orbs searched the side of her face. She was relaxed, not a hint of nervousness or fear showed on her tanned skin. He wondered how she was able to do that, to be brave in the face of possible death. Scrunching his brows together, Marty turned to the horizon his eyes widening at the sight of a ship slipping through the mist. "The enemy's here! Let's take her!" Mirela's lips tugged into a small frown at Marty's words, Beckett was not a stupid man.. he would not bring just his own ship.

          And thus, like the Gods heard her thoughts, the rest of the armada sailed through the mist, cutting through the shadowy air with a deadly grace. The left side of Mirela's lips twitched upward, her eyes narrowed in on the fleet of ships before her, somewhere, she could hear Cotton's parrot shouting his opinion, and a whisper of Parlay could be heard from Jack Sparrow. Turning her head, Mirela locked eyes with her Captain, her lips pulling into a sly smirk. "When was the last time ye had a good fight, Sparrow?" Her question echoed across the deck, drawing the attention of the crewmen.

          Jack simply gaped at the woman that was stalking toward him, the predatory gleam in her eyes caused a shiver to race up his spine. She was alluring, in a positively frightening way, but alluring none the less. "Can't remember? Aye, I can. I remember the raid on my late husband's ship like yesterday, I remember the blood that was shed, and I remember the smell of death well." Mirela was circling Jack now, her eyes flickering from him to the crew as she spoke. "Lives were lost, but the battle was won. The crew grew closer, and people feared Captain Bensik Camlo like never before." Flashing her white teeth, Mirela raised a questioning brow toward the crew.

          "Isn't that what you want? Do you wish to have a crew that is in fact family by sea, to be feared by others as you sail, to be remembered?" Pausing, Mirela turned toward the crew, excitement lighting up her eyes. "Then fight like one. Make the posh men with the funny hats fear you, make your name be remembered." With a fox-like grin, Mirela pulled her sword from her hip, thrusting the silver blade into the air. Marty was the first to follow, his voice echoing across the deck as he cheered his agreement. The crewmen soon followed, even the ever doubting Parrot on Cotton's shoulder cawed something a bit more positive.

          Jack watched the sight before him, watched the way the gypsy captured the attention of the crewmen, at the way she commanded them to listen. He doubted she knew this, doubted she would ever agree with him, but Mirela commanded you to fight for her. It was in the way she spoke, the way her words came off her silver tongue like a lovers kiss. She was the heart of the Pearl, the heart of any ship she decided to claim. Jack knew she had captured the crew's attention, and if Jack were, to be honest, she had captured his heart long ago.

          "Best be careful, Jack.." His name was drawled out in such a way that Jack instantly knew Barbossa was behind him, smirking at him like he knew something no one else did. "The gypsy girl is a trickster, who knows who she is really for on this fight." And there it was, Barbossa's stupidity. Rolling his eyes, Jack didn't even spare the man with a glance as he turned to brush past him. "She's a gypsy, Barbossa. She's fighting for love." With a sly grin, Jack made his way toward the dinghy, he had a few enemies to speak with.

         As the cheers of the crew grew fainter, and the hardy laughter of those who were now excited for bloodshed sounded like a whisper, Jack couldn't help but turn to look back at his ship. His brown eyes landing on the lone figure perched upon the helm. He could make out the sandy tips of her hair fluttering in the wind, flapping about like a storm of tan and black. He noticed her body was leaned forward, her weight on her palms that lie upon the railing, he was sure she was watching him. Mirela's lips were pulled into a frown, her eyes worried as she watched Jack sail to shore, she would have gone with him if she could, but chances were she would have tried to strangle Beckett once again if she laid eyes on him. With a soft sigh, Mirela raised her hand in a parting farewell toward her captain, her eyes lite up as she watched his three-point hat dip in acknowledgment.

          Turning away from the sea, Mirela padded down the stairs to reach the main deck, her sandy hued orbs searching for two fellow pirates she hadn't spoken with in some time. With a soft smile on her lips, Mirela approached Pintel, humor evident on her face as she watched him bicker with his friend. "You look mighty fierce with that eye patch, Master Ragetti. It's a good look for ye." Speaking barely above a whisper, Mirela looked upon the two pirates with a fondness one looked at their child. These two were like children, they always would be, and she had taken them under her wings.

          "Wh-Why thank you miss." Flashing a large smile, Ragetti adjusted his eye patch and giggled almost shyly. Pintel simply glared at his friend, a huff leaving his lips at the near blushing pirate. "I fear I will be parting ways when this is over, my friends." At Mirela's sudden confession, both Pirates were at her sides in an instant, bewildered looks on their faces. "Now why would go off and do such a thing like leave?" Pintel was the one to voice the unasked question, his orbs almost puppy like in appearance. With a heavy sigh that fitted her heavy heart, Mirela tossed her arms around her boy's necks.

          "You are loyal to two captains, yet you fear one the most. I have a feeling nothing has changed among the crew, you are all still pirates, and will follow the highest bidder." With a sad smile Mirela shared a glance toward each man, her hazy orbs took on a glassy look at the thoughtful expression they held. Mirela did not wish to leave the crew, she had grown fond of several from under Barbossa's and Jack's command, however, Mirela was no fool. Barbossa held a map, the crew would follow the man that promised gold and would leave the odd captain behind. Thus, Mirela would be left behind as well. She knew Barbossa had a dislike toward her for she felt the same toward the man who had thrown her friend in the brig.

          Pressing a kiss to first Pintel's then Ragetti's dirty cheek, the gypsy let her arms fall to her sides and approached the helm once again. Her eyes glanced upon the small dinghy that was now paddling back to the Pearl. Sitting upon a barrel, Mirela pulled out the old portrait from the white shirt she wore, her eyes instantly softened at the streaked faces before her. Bensik was a man of honor, a pirate with morals, a pirate that had his own code. He wasn't like Barbossa, nor was he like Jack, he was the fuel to her flame, a man that could capture anyone's, heart. And now, as Mirela sat on the Pearl, preparing for a battle she had only dreamed about since her husband's death, she realized Bensik was not her fuel anymore. Jack was.

          The commotion on board as the dinghy was pulled up had Mirela blinking the haze away from her eyes and slipping the photo back inside Jack's shirt. Her eyes, a gritty cream color under the sun flickered toward Elizabeth as she stepped onto the deck. Mirela hadn't spoken to the woman anymore since the very first they had met, she had a dislike for the woman who had trapped Jack within the locker. Next Barbossa stepped onto the deck, another person she held a distaste too. It seemed that her list of those she disliked was only growing. The last person to step out was a bit of a shock to her, she had expected to see Jack stepping out with an air of "look at me," but that was not the case. No, the man who stepped out was a man she hadn't decided to hate or simply ignore yet. William Turner.

          She was on her feet and in Elizabeth's face within a blink, her normally carefree eyes flickered with a seething rage, a rage Barbossa hadn't seen since Beckett. "I should be surprised, shocked that you traded Jack. But I'm not, what shocks me is that you bring a traitor among us and expect me not to kill him when the fighting starts." An eerie laugh echoed around the gypsy. "What shocks me is that you, King of the Pirates" Mirela couldn't help but scoff at the woman's title. "and you, Barbossa, think I fight for either of you. I fight for Calypso, I fight for Jack, and I fight to kill a man who has done me wrong. Murder is not a new concept to me." With that, the seething gypsy who's eyes danced like a fire, and a silent threat still hanging in the air, slunk away.