La vie et les histoires de Cherie le Porc
Chapitre un: Le dernier au revoir
It was a night to remember. The stars glimmered like diamonds, deceptively fleeting; just when you thought you'd seen one out of the corner of your eye, it would cloak itself in a cloud, teasing. Their ethereal beauty, however, was eclipsed by that of the girl who lay sprawling silently on her bed. Her rosy cheeks gleamed silver in the light of the full moon, her full lips tilted slightly upward in an ephemerally peaceful smile.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her, and she opened her oak-leaf colored eyes lazily, looking up. Looming over her was her father, Pierre le Porc, with a grimace tearing at the edges of his normally grinning face and eyes flashing with a familiar rage she knew had yet to be directed at her. Pierre le Porc was a reasonable, happy-go-lucky man -- when he wasn't drunk. Otherwise, all reason faded in the blink of an eye. As if some unspoken message had passed between them, her face went blank, devoid of emotion, as she proceeded to take the beating in utter silence.
Afterwards, with a mix of blood and tears dripping down her cheek, Cherie le Porc made up her mind that she was destined to flee, to make a name for herself. "Save for this wretched island," she wrote later that night, " I've yet to explore, to adventure into the unknown. If I am to live my life in captivity, so be it, but I refuse to go down without a fight."
With a farewell note to her longtime love, Alain Boniface, atop her bed and her few pitiful belongings wrapped in a tattered blanket, Cherie made for the docks. Spitting on the wood nearest her father's favorite sloop, she leapt into the Morning Star and sailed fearlessly into the pastel glow of the rising sun without a backward glance.
Chapitre deux: Un passé secret
Cherie le Porc was born into a life of uncertainty.
Her father, Pierre le Porc, started out as a high ranking officer in the British navy. His prestige and happy-go-lucky nature made him quite popular amongst his peers, and it was not long before Lord Beckett himself began to take notice of the courageous young lad. Taking into account his charismatic demeanor and quickness of mind, Beckett decided to make him an offer he couldn't refuse; for, you see, he was intent on annexing the islands a local fisherman had spotted just a week before into his empire, as he believed their location in the hub of the trading wheel could satisfy even his insatiable appetite for gold.
"How would you, Pierre le Porc, like to lead the group of explorers I aim to send to the new worlds?" Beckett inquired, gesturing his thanks to the bartender as she set a bottle of fine cognac between them.
"Forgive me," Pierre replied, taking a swig off the bottle, "But I daresay the ride's bound to be a little rougher than most of the men, including myself, would find comforting."
"But tell me this," Beckett said, his voice dropping an octave. "Say, if we were to encounter riches, would not the end result of this little escapade be a justification to the means?"
"Can't argue one bit with that logic!" Pierre let out a hearty chuckle, and winked at the bartender.
"Perfect! Let us make plans at dawn," Beckett exclaimed, with a smile so sinister that it stopped a man who'd just entered the bar in his tracks.
Chapitre trois: L'île de misère
After many an arduous day at sea, panic had set in.
Though Cherie was quite the apt sailor, hope of finding land was beginning to disappear. She had lost track of the days she'd spent out at sea, and yearned for Alain Boniface's familiar embrace while the moon's calming touch comforted her like a path she'd walked many times before yet never tired of. Delirious and sore from lack of food and rest, she'd begun to regret her rash decision, yet knew in her heart she'd done the right thing. Fastening the sails in place, she curled up under her tattered blanket, whistling a familiar tune as a tear made its way down her cheek. Alas, the music faded and Cherie let the numb darkness of sleep overtake her.
It was not a moment later that a tremendous crash woke her with a start. The ground trembled beneath her feet in reply. Wait, ground? A quick 360 revealed her to be on a desolate, hazy wasteland, her sloop lying in a forlorn heap of debris adjacent a jagged rock. Not promising. Two shadows raged in the distance. Stepping forward tentatively, Cherie froze as one of the shady figures landed a blow on the other's skull, dropping him hard to his knees. Finding her footing, she unthinkingly began to run towards the figure.
No time, I've got to save him, the forefront of her mind shouted. Are you nuts? A second, smaller voice in the back of her head interjected. This is a suicide mission! But as her feet carried her ever closer to impending peril, all the instinct, all the self-preservation she'd prided herself on over the years faded in a rush of adrenaline.
"Then let's give it a shot," she murmured breathlessly, "and hope he's not accustomed to small women going kamikaze on his behind."
Building her pace to a sprint, she sprang at the standing one, using her momentum to pin him down with her hands at his throat. She caught the silver flash of his dagger and deftly blocked the blow with her arm, but he used the moment of opportunity to catch her off guard, rolling them over so that he was at an advantage. Automatically, she curled her feet up, pressing them into his stomach. Her instructor's words echoed in her head; Do this move wrong and you'll be the one left for dead. Gritting her teeth in defiance, she steeled herself, focusing her energies on what she was about to do. With an icy glare for good measure, she used what leverage she had to kick him up and away at just the right moment in that roll, a nearly textbook-perfect tomoe nage throw. He landed gracefully, catlike, considering the amount of force she'd put into that kick. To the left, she noticed the man he'd had kneeling sprawled face-down on the ground, blood streaming from the gash in his head. Not a killing blow, she thought, almost gleeful that her rash thinking had perhaps saved the life of an innocent. Her eyes, however, never left the glowering man and his engraved silver dagger. He was quite large, and well-trained by the looks of it. The only thing she had on him was agility. As she began to drop into a more stable stance, he lunged for her, knife gleaming. She barely had time to dodge his flurry of attacks as he pressed her further and further back into the dark mist. Wrong, wrong, wrong, her mind screamed as he relentlessly forced her back into the unknown. As she drew her prized foul bane repeater, one of his strikes caught her across the side, and with a yelp of pain and fury, she jammed the gun barrel into his forehead. He froze as if a switch had been pulled. The silence was deafening and could've gone on for aeons, but the crunch of gravel marked a new arrival. He smirked. The click of gun safety being turned off both broke the silence and told her why.
"Don't move a muscle."
^^To be continued**
My Besties
They're my everything. If I were asked to describe my best quality, I'd call them out without hesitation. I love them all so much... So many memories created, so many *When LULZ happens* moments, so many ponies... They're the best friends in the world, and I'm the luckiest chica in the world to have people like them (:
(in no particular order)
Chris Swordbones aka Hermit
We met about 8 months ago when I was in INFERNO. At first, let's face it, I was kinda scared of him (the tattoo is a dead giveaway), but after many conversations about how bad the Jonas bros are, how epic Ace Ventura is, laughing about random inside jokes (his nickname, Hermit, was one of em) and fighting over NOMZ, xenomorphs, Chuck Norris, and donuts, he's like the brother I never had. FLEEB IGA QUISHKEEF!
Roger Wildeagle aka Rogiesaur
What can I say about this guy? He's TOTALLY nuts, so we get along REALLY well. We talk about the RANDOMEST things you'll EVER hear, joke about him stealing lady clothes, getting owned by not-so-straight reindeer, and random asians in plays, and sometimes, he even gives me great advice I never would've thought guys had in them. I'm gonna be frank here (don't take it the wrong way) and say we're such good friends idk if he's a guy anymore xD
John Stormpaine aka BACHOOOOOOOO
This dude is the man of many names, but waaaaaay cooler. We can hold out a conversation for hours obsessing over bacon and fruitz and talking in code (joob, faff, dunce helmet, fancy pants, eckztra krispeh, jewp da whoop, hebrew hammah, and many more). He also took me to trolltropolis =D *I love picking on french fries like he who should not be named...* Best franz forever, bruh =)
Sam Revenge aka Samchez
This dude is my maid and absolute favorite ginger (yeah I went there). Of all my friends, he and I can keep a chat fever going for the longest time (its pretty close with Rogie, Hermit, Bacho and Tia around though xD). We chat about packages, Justin Bieber, electric chairs, corners of doom, underdrawz, Megan Fox, Angelina Jolie - runs out of breath... Point is, he's my best heshe friend (even Rogie still qualifies as a he xD), and probably the only one I know that says OMG 24/7 and . Love ya like meatballs, man =P
Aplentia aka Tia
Though the four dudes- wait, make that 3 plus Sam- keep me pretty amazingly hyper, any normal chica needs an exclusively girl bestie. That's where tia comes in. We gossip about boys, sing to random songs, laugh about creepy jokes, and plot against her stalker, Creeptana (my nickname for him) on a regular basis. But you wanna know what I value most of all? She's given me the advice I need to stay on the right path. Without this girl, I'd probably not be with my current boyfriend (and probably not be happy about being a single lady either, shocker!). She's my sister from another mister, and if you wanna get all up in her grill, be prepared for me to bust a cap/go kamikaze mode, cuz we stick together no matter what. Love ya sis (=
Of course, as always, I saved the best for last (just said that to be dramatic, ily all just as much).
Capt. Skull X aka Freebot
I truly am at a loss for words when it comes to him. Let's start off with a few reasons I'm totally floored by this guy:
- he keeps in shape.. smokin hot (ik ik, I'm a total creeper)
- he's a real sweetheart
- he's sassy xD
- he's got the greatest sense of fashion ever (besides rogie and his lady clothes)
- he's the ONLY person I truly respect
and now lay all the cards on the table. He's my baby. I'll never let that go. I love you <3
^Now that you know a little bit about them (and this is gonna sound real cheesy), stay tuned for more on the 'actual character'... Same bat time, same bat channel!
- awkward silence
Cherie: If you have any poo, fling it now...
Roger: Drat i left it in my other pants!