SALT IN THE WOUND // P

^{♥ ― and I don't believe in the truth, because all of my life's built on lies}

^{out of character: i can relate to her on a spiritual level lol, i always stick my tongue out when i'm concentrating :p anyway, let me get this first post out of the way.}

^//

^{"roman, are you even listening to me?"}

^{"why would I be?"}

^{roman turned around to face his father with his signature smirk- smug, something childishly devilish about it. his petty remarks blew right over the captain's head. he raised roman, this was nothing new and he just dealt with it. "roman, if I were you, i'd be preparing for your journey." these words, as casual as they sounded, held a weight and a responsibility to them that no regular man could handle without going manic. well roman was already manic, so I guess you could say he already had a head start.}

^{"yeah, whatever pops. i'll get to it." roman gave his father an aloof flick of pale eyes before making his way down the wooden pier. they had just docked at a nearby island that they had conquered through looting years ago. the native people here feared the black magnolias, just as they would fear a disease such as smallpox or yellow fever. when roman walked down these dirt roads, it was as if Death himself had shown up. he had a menacing presence here, a shroud of darkness that was only lifted by their tides rolling out. roman paused, sitting on the edge, his feet dangling off of it.}

^{cradling a cigarette between his full lips, he pondered. was he ready to become captain? sure, he loved the kill and the thrill, but what about the responsibility that will loom over him? shaking his head and breathing in the toxic smoke, he felt it welcome him home. his happy place was sitting in the midst of smoke, where nobody would bother him. lonesome by nature, but terrified of being abandoned, he represented a blissful paradox that became more complicated than one could ever believe.}

^{a few days later, roman found himself sitting in his bed, bombarded with maps and weapons and cigarettes and diary upon diary of his father's well-earned advice. like he needed it, anyway. roman was smart enough to find his way around. his mission was simple enough: go to the petite, yet urban island of Nafariti and conquer it by any means of force. Take in as many prisoners as possible; the deck needed to be cleaned and they do a superb job at it. Scour as many ladies as possible; in the next few years, roman would have to look into having an heir to his fortune, or at least a wench who could protect it. he would set sail this afternoon, and would arrive late tomorrow night...}

^{adorned in fitted brown pants, a loose ripped shirt, and a sword, roman set sail on his journey with a party of around 20 men of his choosing. standing just behind the bow of the ship, the rather tall young man stretched his lips in a smile. the salted sea air ran through his mousy hair, and his sea-foam green eyes flickered in the sunlight. he was delighted by the idea of an adventure, and horrified by the idea of failing. but roman never fails, right? as long as he told himself that, he'd be okay.}

^{this day was a good day for roman- he had a zest for life, a passion for his mission, and a determination to get things done as they sailed the sea. which more than likely meant the next few days were going to be bad days. and as they sailed they drank and smoked and jeered to the prospect of new land, new prostitutes, and new gold stuffed in their pockets. but when they landed, roman noticed something rather odd- not only was the island dead quiet around the shore (seemed rather inhabited here), but there was another ship about to drop their anchor. a ship with pearly white sails instead of murky pearl or black.}

^{the white roses.}

^{♥ ― and I don't believe in the truth, because all of my life's built on lies
out of character: don't worry about it! :)}

^{do you know what happens when you pile 20+ young guys onto a ship? some fun shit. with roman being the conductor of this 'fun shit', they could bleed a rum keg dry within minutes. roman is a complex creature; to put it simply, he is an arrogant antagonist on the outside and on the inside, he is a corroded bunch of emotions and carried a crippling syndrome called bleeding heart. he tears others apart in hopes it will fill the void in his own broken soul. he is a caged, wounded animal, desperate for a jailbreak.}

^{"cheers to the fuckin' mission, eh?" roman jeered, his pale eyes wavering around his crew as he sipped the bitter liquor. better not be tipsy this early in the day... placing the lackluster glass onto a nearby trunk, he turned to face his crew. the six-foot-two young man literally towered over his crew, giving him an air of superiority although on the inside, he was as fragile as a leaf in the wind. alright, time for a pep talk. what would he say? roman was usually gifted with coming up with snarky remarks, but at the moment, he was lost for words.}

<sup>"uhh- okay, okay." he cleared his throat, crossing his arms as he usually did. "boys, you know the deal. observe, attack, defend. this is our for the taking." roman raised his voice, his canines glinting in the sunlight. "to loot, raid, and plunder, say it with me boys-"

"we're gonna own the sea down under!" the crew chanted, cheering and dancing around as if they were young boys who had just gotten their first kiss. they raised their glasses, gulped down what was left, and slammed them down onto the deck. time to get it on.</sup>

^{since roman was the ringleader of this shebang, he gave the standard procedure his father had taught him: part of the crew stays back on the ship, while he and his 'wingmen' scoped out the area first. roman had two wingmen, peter and maverick. they were brothers, each with jet black hair and eyes as striking as the ocean waves themselves. though not as tall as roman was, they were stocky, with enough bulk to mow down any one person in their path.}

^{rolling up his sleeves, roman undid the lone button by his collar. scrunching his eyebrows, he felt the cool beach air hit his small spot of bare skin and was instantly relieved. not only was the island hot as a stone smith's fire, the tension that was soon to build would make the air quite thick with suppressed anger and vile hatred. he stepped down onto the sand, placing his hand over his eyes so that he didn't have to squint. he noticed a young woman about his age parading off of the white roses' ship, and he scowled. was that... arabella? he had only heard about her and her harmonic ways, but had never actually seen her in person. he dare say, she was....}

^{...disgusting. roman's chest was tinged with the sharp spark of rivalry. how should he encounter this situation? well, he could just continue on his journey, but he'd run into her sooner or later. goddamnit, nothing life handed roman could ever just be simple. fitting though, since he wasn't simple himself. his brain gears worked hard to come to a solution, which the most logical to him would be confrontation. now he'd never hit a lady, but his sharp words could sting more than a lone punch ever would. perhaps he could work his magic and make her believe she visited the wrong island. surely that would be the case, why would a heiress of the white roses be found on this side of the ocean anyway? his gait determined, his lithe figure made his way over to arabella.}

^{his wingmen trailing behind him, they stopped a little while back to give the two future leaders their space, as was respect. they were close enough to where they could jump in as needed though. roman paused in front of arabella's path as she came off the ship, waiting for her to meet him. his cool voice echoed off the massive wooden vessel's sides as he somewhat called out: "darling, what's a girl like you doing on an island like this? quite frankly, I think you're lost."}

^{roman godfrey's words dripped off his pink lips like poisonous honey as he spoke. his pale green eyes bore onto arabella with such a curious ferocity, and the game he was playing with her was evident in the coy smirk upon his face. he was like a nimble cat, waiting for his prey to succumb. "roman godfrey, in case you didn't know. I would shake your hand, but being that you're a delicate little rose, I don't want you to break. why don't you just turn back now?"}