I'm back! Took a little time in the mountains to reflect and reassess shit and am feeling like I'm in a much better headspace at the moment. Let's hope it lasts 🤞 Hope you're all doing well ❤️
(Flynn's POV)I followed Owen out of the cabin. He clearly had thoughts he didn’t want the lass to hear — and I was damned curious to know what they were.It was late afternoon now, the sun low on the horizon and the sky blazed in hues of orange and pink. A good sign for the weather, at least.“Well?” I asked, as he stopped near the railing at a quieter spot, out of earshot of most of the crew.“I say we ransom her,” he said plainly.I hadn’t expected that. The lass was clearly touched, babbling nonsense, and giving fanciful answers that were beyond belief. I'd thought he might say we ought to cut her loose, or take a firmer hand.But no... Ransom, he said.He must've caught the look on my face, and before I could speak, he went on."If she's from where she says she's from—"But I cut in, needing to point out the obvious. "But she's not! She pointed to some barren stretch of land! There's no way—"He interrupted my rant.“Aye, it’s a barren stretch on the map, but that don’t mean no o
(Morgan's POV)He was watching me, the man I assumed must be Owen, waiting for an answer while my brain clutched for something to say.If I told the truth, they were going to think I was insane. Because this WAS insane.If someone came up to me and told me that they were a time traveller, I'd immediately have my phone out and be searching for mental health professionals in my immediate vicinity. There was no way to say "I'm from the future" without sounding like you're completely unhinged.But to lie? I mean, I could do that, but what would I even say? I'm a fucking mermaid?! God, they might actually believe that more than the time travel story.If I lied, there was no doubt I'd get caught out eventually. And the consequences might be even more detrimental. And if I tried to tell the truth after that, no one would believe me..."Listen," I began, looking up at this Owen character with all the seriousness I could muster, "there's something wrong here. I was in that cave. I was explorin
(Morgan's POV)I was still trying to make it make sense.Maybe it really was some kind of elaborate prank. Maybe these guys were all just really good actors. But then what about the infirmary? Why hadn't they taken me to a hospital? Why hadn't they called 911? I should have been on a goddamn IV drip, but they'd just taken me to the infirmary and called it a day! And then what about the surgeon? Why hadn't he worn gloves when he examined me? God, I don't think he even washed his hands! At bare minimum, they should have given me proper medical care, right? Even if this was all fake, they wouldn't have risked my health like that. It was probably against some law or something.So, again, I was back to the fact that this had to be real.But it couldn't be...I was at war with myself, arguing back and forth, looking for any excuse not to believe it. It was un-fucking-believable, after all.And, if this was all real, what was I going to do? How was I going to get back home?Maybe they could j
(Flynn's POV)She was silent for a long while, but all that while, I just stood there, staring at the object in her hand in absolute awe, like a man who'd just witnessed a bloody miracle.It took me a moment to realize that the sound in the room had changed. It was her. Her breathing had changed. Her breaths, now coming too shallow and too fast, were all I could hear."What's the matter?" I asked, finally regaining my senses as she appeared to lose hers even further.There was no answer. Just her panicked gasps."Christ above, woman! Are ye taken with a fit?"Still, she didn't answer.I scoffed and bent down, snatching up the cup she'd set beside her earlier and thrust it toward her"Ye’ll not die 'fore I’ve my answers. Now drink."I had new questions now. What that thing in her hand was. How it w
(Flynn's POV)It felt like we were going backwards. I wanted answers. Real ones. Not some fanciful tale of knocked heads and vanished companions.I pressed on, hoping to catch her out another way. Her story sounded rehearsed, and she clearly had no mind to stray from it."Where are ye from?" I asked, hoping it might lead me somewhere more fruitful."America," she said curtly.“Ye mean the colonies?” I went on, instantly intrigued.No one from the colonies would say something so vague as "America". Did she mean Spanish America? She didn't look Spanish, but that proved little. Perhaps she worked with them...She laughed, like I'd said something daft. “The colonies?!” she repeated, her voice laced with that strange, bitter sarcasm of hers. “No, dude. I’m from California,” she added, like that alone was meant to settle the matter.&nbs
(Flynn's POV)The girl had been moved to my quarters, the infirmary overrun with bleeding men.We'd lost one of our own. A deckhand. Fletcher. A quarrelsome lad I'd never liked much anyway. Still, it was never good for morale to lose a man. Even if the prize had been a fat haul of rum, sugar, and fine silk.Thomas was still clinging to life in the infirmary after taking an axe to the head. The surgeon couldn't say whether he would make it or not.And now, here I was, checking logs and waiting for the lass to wake up.I suspected I might get some actual answers from her now. The look in her eyes when I'd seen her peeking up from below spoke of fear. Real fear. Good. Maybe she was finally starting to regain her bloody senses and saw that this wasn't some leisurely pleasure voyage.At last, she woke up, gasping for breath and sitting straight up in an instant.I didn't look up. I'd been expecting it... sooner or later.I could see her out of the corner of my eye, looking around the room,