[Team 1] untitled pirate AU
This is (a very minuscule) part of a pirate AU that I've been meaning to get off the ground for years now.
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Night falls like a spider from above, slow and silent, unnoticed except by those already watching.
Nino notices, waits until dark before he makes his move. He's nearly invisible during the day, another rat on the street with stains on his clothes and his pride strung along behind him like an empty tin can. But no one can see him at night. He doesn't even exist, and he prefers it that way.
It's warm outside, tacky and suffocating, and the small town is sleeping with its windows cracked open. Nino scurries across the cobblestones of the main street, still wet from the afternoon storm, and heads toward the local inn just settling into bed after drinking itself through a long, loud night no longer or louder than any other.
He doesn't know what he's looking for yet, but he knows where he'll find it: every story told about Yokoyama's travels on the high seas includes a reverent description of the fine gold chain around his neck, dipping low into his vest and concealing whatever it is he doesn't want the world to know about. It works against him, though, because not knowing makes the world that much more curious.
Nino doesn't really care, frankly, and he sneaks into Yokoyama's room lacking the nervousness he'd feel if he had anything to lose. He's half convinced it's something useless anyway, like an old drawing or some other kind of memento Yokoyama keeps for personal reasons, but if it gives Nino someone to run from -- a reason to leave -- he'll take it, whatever it's worth.
---
Night falls like a spider from above, slow and silent, unnoticed except by those already watching.
Nino notices, waits until dark before he makes his move. He's nearly invisible during the day, another rat on the street with stains on his clothes and his pride strung along behind him like an empty tin can. But no one can see him at night. He doesn't even exist, and he prefers it that way.
It's warm outside, tacky and suffocating, and the small town is sleeping with its windows cracked open. Nino scurries across the cobblestones of the main street, still wet from the afternoon storm, and heads toward the local inn just settling into bed after drinking itself through a long, loud night no longer or louder than any other.
He doesn't know what he's looking for yet, but he knows where he'll find it: every story told about Yokoyama's travels on the high seas includes a reverent description of the fine gold chain around his neck, dipping low into his vest and concealing whatever it is he doesn't want the world to know about. It works against him, though, because not knowing makes the world that much more curious.
Nino doesn't really care, frankly, and he sneaks into Yokoyama's room lacking the nervousness he'd feel if he had anything to lose. He's half convinced it's something useless anyway, like an old drawing or some other kind of memento Yokoyama keeps for personal reasons, but if it gives Nino someone to run from -- a reason to leave -- he'll take it, whatever it's worth.