Day 23

rainy not as much as I'd like. CB not disturbed by bad weather. haven't brought out SC yet. Prisoners from yesterday quiet.

Guncotton looked up from his soggy diary. The air smelled of blood from lightning and was heavy with silver rain.

His bed was soaked to the shaky wooden establishments. His scales were slick with rainwater. His breath came ragged and shaky, symbolic of consumption.

How much longer?

At the age of five, Guncotton Smith sat in front of the forge in the backroom of his father's silversmith shop and molded, with his little wings, a locket that would be sold posthumously for millions.

Outside, seagulls called out to each other in a perennial game of duck-duck-goose, and flit in and out of the vista of the backroom's few windows. THe sky wasrobin eggshel framed by no clouds.

(It's strange, a later adolescent Guncotton mused) how these things often achieved a dreamlike quality. The original event is never quite as romantic, and indeed romantic was the last descriptive quality the young Guncotton felt as he lifted the burning locket from the flames with tweezers that became too hot, too fast.

He worked like magic; if Gunco had permitted anyone to enter the backroom (assertive he was for a five-year-old, but only in his craft), they would have been mesmerized by the speeed at which this little Blue Hissi worke. Consecutively he put his wares inside the oven, perfected the mold, and infused the locket with an almost ethereal sense of simple craft-perfection.

It was indisputable that the child was a prodigy. But a prodigy only in this area of expertise; oh, at school, when he would go to school, sent off by hopeful and anticipative parents and watched by four siblings who sincerely wished for him to fail, his teachrers would quickly discover that crafts were probably Gunco's only "saving grace," though later on they might claim that he has some natural ability for English (he talked without the "seafaring" accent" that plagued most of his peers.)

At any rate, Gunco the five-year-old was happy smithing, doing something that he liked to do. It is unfortunate that later events in his life will occur to him.

x

It is in this manner that Guncotton grew up. Emersed in his work from a young age, learning the finer trade secrets from his father (who was, also, a smith and craftsman, but not quite nearly as gifted as his son), playing with his older sibling, bemoaning the unnecessary class of mathematics... Stuff that children like to do, and some stuff that most adults hate (their jobs.)

He grew up with a strict, exacting father; an indulgent mother; and a prankster older brother, Fire, whom Guncotton loved dearly, though he would not willingly admit to it. On many occasions, Gunco would find his sheets dripping with a burning liquid (and Father would later punish Fire for messing around with the store's supplies), or his pillow stuffed with sleeping Mortogs. Not imaginative in the way of practical jokes, Gunco would always try to return the pranks, but fail and have his plans foiled unfailingly by Fire.

After the sundry punishments would pass, though, Gunco found himself deeply appreciative of the relationship he shared with his brother. Fire was a bright youth, and Gunco found that he learned many things from his older brother: how to "get girls" (tips and tricks that, for some reason, never worked when Gunco tried them); how to overcome bullies (by beating them up); and how to escape the worst brunt of physical parental admonishing (by inserting cushions inside one's pants, just enough to soften the blows, but not enough to arouse suspicion.)

One day, Guncotton recalled vividly, was when the two brothers were hanging out by the maple tree that grew outside their house. Fire was assembling a bow and arrow; it was wooden and vaguely reminiscent of a Kauhorn. Gunco had brought out a silver device he made from scrap metal (later, his father told him that it was a "gun" and not to be played around with), and was practicing shooting at Pteris.

Gunco had actually managed to shoot one of the Pteris. It fell from the topper tree branches onto the ground, dead as a doornail. Suddenly overcome by a sense of panic, the blue Hissi had thrown away his invention and was on his lower back, oggling with great amazement the dead carcass of the little yellow-bellied bird.

_ "Drop everything!" Fire yelled. Gunco turned to look at his brother, and was surprised to find the red Hissi wearing a frightened -disallowed_word-probably whipped by the ol' belt). Gunco looked pleadingly at Fire, who normally got into trouble for these sort of things; Gunco couldn't possibly get into trouble! His reputation as pure prodigy would be destroyed!

Later on, Gunco realized the selfishness and disgusting self-importance of his thinking. As a seven-year-old, however, Gunco cared less about his morality. Fire, then twelve, looked ponderously at his younger brother, then looked steadily back up at their father.

_ "I did it." Fire said. It was a statement.

x

The one thing that Fire could not teach Gunco, however, was how to deal with the problem and blessing of being a prodigy. For, indubitably, Gunco was one--by age of eight, he could assemble a working gun within a matter of hours from scrap metal and unshaped mold. By age of ten, his father's shop was receiving commissions from oversea Empires to supply weaponry, and they asked for one smith in particular--Guncotton.

Fire was by no means a genius. He was good, okay, at winning over species of the female variety, what with his boyish charm and funny jokes, and he was decent with a slingshot on a sunny day, but gifted, Fire was not. When Gunco was receiving "bribes disguised as presents" (as Father had put it) from the neighbors and kings of obscure but important-sounding island countries, Fire was dealing with the principal at the school for vandalizing the toilets.

Slowly but surely, some resentment built up; but it was nothing immediately identifiable as malicious; all sibling-and-sibling relationships are rocky at times.

One fateful night at dinner, Fire announced his decision to join the merchant ship, "Miss Victoria." His announcement was met by stony silence at first, and then an angry row ensued, in which Father threw a clock at Fire's head (Fire ducked, but the later sewing machine chucked at the Red Hissi's wing had a true aim; Fire never flew right afterward).

It may have been a bad decision on Fire's part to have told Father about his plans. Everyone in the family and their mother (literally) knew about the elder Hissi's hatred of the ocean. (Nobody bugged him too much about the fact that they lived right by it--Father said, once, that it was good for the money to live in a major trade center, and nobody disagreed.) Yet, as Gunco could imagine, Father didn't have to be so cruel to Fire--Gunco watched his mother tend to his brother's injury later, and his bone had been fractured to a very serious degree.

So, one day when Gunco was fifteen years of age and just beginning to experience the true brunt of the volatile teenage life, his older brother and one idol left Gunco for the sea.

Guncotton's childhood, while fascinating in its own right, is not the main episode of his life. However, he did grow up in such a manner: rather haphazardly. And aside from his prodigal abilities, there was nothing much that set him apart from the next Hissi, or so Gunco thought.

Fire came back one rainy Tuesday, unannounced and as suave as ever. Guncotton, with the rest of the family, celebrated his return.

Underlying the merriment and intoxicating beverages and happy songs, though, Gunco suspected Fire was still resentful of Father. Father, in return, made absolutely no mention of Fire's newfound profession. After the dinner party, Gunco sought out his older brother.

Fire was outside, underneath the old maple tree the two used to play by. He had climbed up the tree and was staring out in the direction of the ocean. A crescent moon watched overhead, shedding silver light on the dark leaves and dappling the Hissi's scales red and white. Gunco climbed up after his brother.

_"Welcome back, brother," Guncotton said in his usual soft-spoken manner. To his surprise, Fire did not return Gunco's statement with his normal jolly banter. Instead, the red Hissi seemed decades older; was this Gunco's older brother, who had left for the sea just six months earlier, a man just out of boyhood?

There was a silence. After several minutes, Gunco wondered if he had actually said anything, and if it were his own imagination that he did indeed welcome Fire back.

Before too long, though, Fire opened his mouth and said in a strange voice, "You know, Cot, sea life is tough." Gunco looked up at Fire, but the Hissi was not looking down at him. "I… I… it's a noisy life, but it can be really lonely sometimes." _

By the nuance in Fire's voice, Gunco surmised that the Hissi perhaps had endured some unspeakable hardship or other on the ocean. He was just about to ask if everything was all right when Fire suddenly laughed and pushed Gunco off the branch.

_"Hey!" Gunco squawked indignantly. He barely caught himself, and by flapping his wings very hard he managed to avoid a bad tail sprain or two. Fire was laughing uproariously, all blood returned to his face and thoroughly invigorated. Though he would not admit it so, Gunco was glad he managed to help his brother return to the Fire that Gunco knew. At the same time, he was a little bit upset by the prank.

Gunco pushed Fire off in return; but, as quick as ever, the red Hissi picked himself right off his fall and returned back to his resting position on the tree.

_"Just kidding!" Fire said. "Sea life's great. You should come be a sailor for one year. Leave behind Father and Mother and all your doting neighbors and royalty and do something fun for yourself."_

But forging was fun for him! Guncotton wanted to say. It was as true as the sky was blue, but the young Gunco knew that his brother, though very wise in other ways, would not understand. And Fire wasn't spewing lies, that was for sure--Father was extremely constricting in terms of scheduling, and did not take very well at all to Gunco's occasional "calls of the wild.

Once, several months prior to Fire's return, Gunco had met a particularly pretty Techo student at school. Lily was her name, and she had transferred freshly from the Academy of Neopia Central--a very prestigious boarding school, indeed. While the other students were fascinated by her academic achievements, Gunco was personally mesmerized by the beauty of her eyes and comeliness of her appearance, to put his hormones in a poetic light.

Gunco had accompanied Lily home that first day, and the two got on quite well. As it turned out, Lily shared starkly different political views from Gunco (her: King Skarl is a bumbling idiot who ought to be dethroned immediately! him: Skarl is a wise man who has made tax laws very favorable to artisans), and the two were having a great time debating the subject of Meridell government. That was when Gunco had realized it was getting really quite late, and he had hurried home.

The whip was waiting for him in the living room. Gunco thought that, given his age, he would have been spared from any severe corporal punishment. He was mistaken.

As Gunco thought of this incident, Fire nudged him in the wing. "Well? What do you say?"_

Unhesitatingly, Gunco gave his answer.

x

That night, Gunco announced his decision to join Fire for one year aboard the Miss Victoria, a merchant ship, servicing as a cabin boy.

Mother was, as expected, greatly distressed over losing her youngest (and most talented/topic of most pride in her local gossiping) son to the sea. She sobbed for an embarrassingly long time into the carpentry. Father, meanwhile, was immediately possessed by anger; the cold kind of anger that was not spoken of but permeated every inch of his leathery skin and glared like a prehistoric beast trapped in ice from behind his eyes.

Gunco couldn't honestly say he expected anything less. He was, however, slightly heartbroken that his father--whom Guncotton looked to most frequently for a figure of all that is right--hated him.

Or so Guncotton thought; the morning he and Fire set off (after a small altercation in which Gunco insisted on bringing all of his forging equipment, and Fire had objected saying that there would be no room on the ship, but Guncotton had so passionately maintained his cause that Fire had to relent), Father sought out Gunco before he left his room.

A bit startled, Gunco looked up from his suitcase, which he was trying to shut. Before he could say anything to Father to perhaps assuage feelings, the old Hissi had slithered up to Guncotton, removed a medallion from underneath his shirt, and handed it to the confused blue Hissi.

_"You have great talent," Father said solemnly. Gunco was a little surprised; of course, he knew it, but Father rarely acknowledged the truth. Gunco was more than flattered. "I object to your leaving on the premise that it will subtract from your passion for smithing, but I know you, and you will not let something like the sea get in the way." Father put the medallion on Gunco, and looked at his youngest son both warmly and sadly.

I made this when I was your age," Father said. Gunco looked down at the medallion and held it up to the pink light of dawn: it was a fine piece, rough but with fair attention to details. "It is not nearly as good as yours, but I spent a long time on it and it is the first piece that I am truly proud of. I wish for you to wear it."_

So Gunco did.

x

Miss Victoria was a proud ship, a stylistic blend of cargo and traditional merchant. She had a proud white hull that looked very fine when crested by lapis-blue waves, billowing white sails, and a deck as straight as a ruler and as wide as the back of a whale.

The sky was appropriately cloudless and china-blue. The sunshine was just bright enough to be called bright, but not so blinding as to become cumbersome to transportation. There was a slight northernly breeze that tickled one's hair and refreshed the depressed spirit.

Neopets of varying shapes and sizes, but strong looking Neopets nonetheless, were merrily loading cargo onto Miss Victoria. Though there was no one collaborative song being sung, there was a general amiable hum in the air that was kind of catchy and cheerful to the heart.

Gunco could see why Fire vastly preferred a marine life to the one Father had planned for him in Seaport City. If he could choose, and if he weren't so tied down by his passion for wares, Gunco would immediately become a sailor. He was still happy about the invitation Fire extended him, and eager to be with his brother, Gunco followed Fire like a child onto board.

Greeting Fire's peers and superiors was a little overwhelming for Gunco, though. Their gregarious mannerisms made him feel very meek, and subsequently act mouse-like. When Fire pointed out Gunco's "social scaredy-cat syndrome," however, the blue Hissi promptly began to act normal again, or whatever normal was for him.

Fire introduced Gunco to their room on the ship--a crowded six by nine that the two shared with a frequently intoxicated Kyrii who introduced himself to his new roomies as "Mr. Darks, if you please," and a frequently silent Bori who introduced himself as a grunt. Gunco and Fire soon learned that his proper name was "Ein." There were two double-bunkers in the room, which provided a means of sleeping.

Before the ship set off, Fire led Gunco and the other newly incarnated shipmates on a tour of Miss Victoria. He introduced such foreign vocabulary to the newbies as galley (the kitchen), port (left), starboard (right), and, of course, poop deck (the poop deck/deck for poop.)

All in all, Gunco was looking forward to the trip, although he felt a little queezy from the rocking back and forth of the ship.

That first night, the ceremonial bottle of wine was cracked on the hull of Miss Victoria. Fireworks were set off from the poop deck, and there was a lot of cheering for some minutes. Gunco found the whole event rather loud and pointless after the first twelve hours, in which festivities were still commencing.

There was a fun party, though. Gunco, never previously exposed to such a rowdy gang, found his informal inception into "the male life" sudden and jarring. There were games where people drank WATER and talked funny after half a gallon of WATER; games where stupid amounts of Neopoints and Dubloons were bet; and generally, nonsensical games that were in some way demonstrative of the best qualities of the unrefined seafaring man (brawn, bulk, and enough brains to get by).

Gunco, at first a bit repulsed by the pointless competitive nature of the activities, soon found himself catching fire with the craze. He too began the serious sport of apple-bobbing and on-deck darts and Cheat!. Fire watched nearby in the beginning and even cheered on his younger brother, but after some time the two were separated by their individual whimsies. Gunco no longer yearned for the scrap metal he managed to stuff inside his luggage before setting off--this was almost as fun as making wares!

The next morning, Gunco woke up and found himself in his bed, of all places he could have been in. He wondered how he got there--his last lucid memory was of downing a pitcher full of WATER. Looking around and observing the little details of his well-made bed, he surmised that Fire had carried him back to their room after he had passed out.

Speaking of which, it was really early out. There was enough light for Gunco to be sure that it was morning, but clearly it was still some ungodly hour. Gunco wondered where Fire was off to?

He lay quietly in bed for half an hour, listening to the waves lap softly against the hull of Miss Victoria , the seagulls caw softly, and the wind howl half-heartedly, and pondering his situation. He wondered if it was the best choice he could have made, to have defied his father's orders and come live a year as a sailor; but he considered the alternative--being without his older brother--and decided that he was determined to stick with Fire.

As if on cue, the door to their room creaked open. Gunco quickly closed his eyes shut, but from the sound of the footsteps and the pattern of breathing, he could tell that Fire had just come in. The door shut quietly, and Fire clambered into bed underneath Gunco's bunk.

A few more minutes passed, and with golden morning-light just beginning to seep through the cracks of the room's wooden planks, a trumpet sounded upstairs. Almost mechanically, Ein awoke and began to pull on his socks. Gunco watched, fascinated, as the Bori's nosed twitched here adn there as he acclimatized to his new state of consciousness. Darks woke up too, after one minute of girlish moaning. Fire woke up after the too, stretching and pretending to look refreshed after a long night's sleep.

Gunco thought it a little odd that Fire was making such a point out of looking like he just woke up from a turbulence-free slumber. He didn't call Fire out on it, though, but got up wordlessly and began hunting for his cap.

They assembled outside. Breakfast was being distributed--cold bowls of porridge that tasted like cardboard. Fire had the foresight to bring along many packets of sugar, of which he shared discreetly with Gunco. The sugar made breakfast a little more tolerable, but Gunco craved his mother's blueberry pancakes.

The other shipmates were getting out too, and those that were returning employees got to work promptly--either making sure that the furnace was well-fed, or taking turns guarding hte large cargo trunk, or else cleaning and maintaining the ship (of which was probably the most important task.) Gunco looked at Fire for directions.

The red Hissi directed the blue one to the line that the other newbs were making. "First mate Gregory's going to tell you what you're doing," Fire explained matter-of-factly. "As second mate, it's my job to make sure the returning sailors are doing their jobs and not slacking off."_

Doggedly, Gunco followed Fire's directions and put himself as closely in line as possible with the other newbies. It was a good thing that he did so; when Gregory, a muscular, upright Blumaroo, came around to inspect the newcomers, he indiscriminately called out all the people standing out of line and yelled brutal insults and insinuated something about their ancestry.

_ "You there, kiddo!" Gregory said when he came to Gunco. Gunco gulped and tried his best to straighten himself and not blink. He noticed the Blumaroo had a very prominent mole on his nose, and he tried not to look at it. "You're Fire's brother, righ'?"_

_ "Y-yes, sir," Gunco said.

Gregory nodded approvingly. "Then I expect great things out of you. The dunghole is your responsibility."_

x

The dunghole, as it turned out, was the toilet of Miss Victoria. Comprised of three stalls that needed hourly cleaning, the dunghole was a grevious responsibility, as cleanliness here was especially important to prevent the spread of pathogens. Gunco told himself in his head that this was why Gregory assigned him with the task.

But it was such disgusting work! Gunco didn't know that bodily fluids could come in such colors, nor could they smell like--like--Ugh! It was absolutely nasty!

Hourly, Gunco dealt with masses of defecation and other very unpleasant things. The work was monotonous but, unfortunately, required great attention to detail. Some literal dungpiles were, to Gunco, too large to have physically come out the rear end of any Neopet. Gunco quickly grew intolerant of his crew members' idiocy--just aim for the hole in the floor that led to the sea instead of burden an innocent Hissi with the clean-up!

Lunch comprised of a mess of salty, vaguely soggy biscuits and dried anchovies. Gunco began praying that they would reach land soon. He did get to eat with his brother, which made the experience a little more tolerable (and Fire snuck Guncotton some packets of ketchup to add to the anchovies.) Gunco was sure to wash his wings very thoroughly before and after the meal.

After lunch, Gunco returned to his solitary job. It was a pity that Gregory didn't deem it fit to reward Gunco's labors with a partner to pass the time with. Upon revisiting these scenes of his life, Gunco would later lament the fact that he failed to communicate as much as he should have with the other members of Miss Victoria--he may have avoided the UNDERWORLDish events that would come about as a result of his ignorance.

So some weeks flew by in this manner: the meals were atrocious (to be kind), Gunco's work slowly tore at his heart, but he liked it.

The day started off as extremely beautiful, not unlike the pulchritudinous girl who suddenly finds herself in a body desired by men. Sunshine reigned, not obscured by clouds. A light breeze played with the cerulean-topped waves; salt tickled noses of seafaring Neopets. The air was fresh and was like honeydew-turned-ice on the tongue.

Gunco was taking a break from his dunghole duties and was leaning on the starboard's railing, hunching his back and wondering if it would be dangerous to attempt flight when there were no drafts. Actually, he knew that to do such a thing would be akin to throwing a wingless Neopet off of Faerieland, but, oh! How much he wanted to dance with the silver-scaled fishes swimming just underneath the soft skin of the sea!

The navigator had slowed Miss Victoria just enough so that her stressed denizens could take a dip in the ocean if they wanted to. Nimmos, Quiggles, Acaras, and Peophins reveled. Even normally terrestrial Neopets were enticed by the call of the ocean, and happily Aishas, Lupes, and Xweetoks leapt to the breast of the sea.

Gunco waited for Fire to come out of underneath Miss Victoria. When the red Hissi's head emerged from the stairwell, Gunco bombarded Fire with a vigor unlike his normal reserved self. "Can we go swim, too? Can we can we can we?"_

Fire smiled and said, "Of course! It would be a waste of such a beau'ful day to not!"_

So Gunco whooped and forgot his duties as Cleaner of the W.C. He leapt into the sea, upsetting some amount of saltwater and causing an uproar to go around the other sailors when he emerged, spluttering because he had inhaled ocean water.

Fire jumped in after Gunco. In great contrast to the blue Hissi's graceless maneuver, Fire came out in an explosion of aerial perfection. He even managed to do a couple of backflips and cartwheels in the air before once again dipping (like a long dolphin) back into the sea. Sprays of white water accompanied his ascent and descent.

The sailors and Gunco applauded Fire's impressive display. Gunco found himself fitting in remarkably well with the others, more so than he had over the past two weeks; and his seasickness subsided too, so that one could tell that he was indeed a Blue Hissi and not a Green one. He located two particular laughter-prone Mynci twins, and tried his hand at socializing. _"Hey, you guys likin' the weather?" Gunco asked, trying to sound carefree. It was difficult, with his naturally reserved nature, but Gunco knew that the time had come to push his bubble a little wider. With one soggy wing, he indicated the azure bowl of a sky.

The Myncis nodded vigorously. "I's beau'iful!" said one. "Absolu'ly perfec'!" exclaimed the other.

Gunco laughed, and the Myncis followed. "Yeah, I was beginning to think the Captain wouldn't ever let us off the ship," the Hissi said jokingly, gesticulating randomly with his wings in mock imitation of the burly Scorchio.

None of the frolicking sailors noticed the gray clouds hugging the horizon; and not even the most attentive Aisha could have heard the vague crackling of thunder in the distance.

X

Some time had passed before Captain Lepidus and Gregory began to herd the sailors back on board. "Gi' back up here, you no-good dogs!" Captain Lepidus barked, nostrils flaring at every accented syllable. Gregory parroted the Captain's orders, and Fire climbed back up on board to do his duties as well.

Gunco reluctantly climbed back on board. He shook hands (well, wing and hand) with the Mynci twins Marcus and Marker to cement their friendship. Afterward the Myncis turned to go and continue their jobs as oilers and scrubbers of the deck.

Gunco was just entering the stairwell back into the Underworld of Poop when there was a very ominous and visible lance of lightning in the distance. He screamed and called for the others, but they had also seen the storm approaching.

Clouds as black as ravens rapidly approached Miss Victoria from all sides. The lookout yelled a warning, but everyone knew the news already. Gregory and Fire and Captain Lepidus were shouting at the cabin boys to furl the mast and prepare for a real storm.

Gunco ran about and tried to be useful, but he understood so little of the ship's anatomy besides the toilets that he found himself pretty useless. Meanwhile, anchors were being dropped, and other cabin boys were running to and from the cargo storage.

The whole morass was organized chaos. While the other newcomers, like Gunco, were more than a little perplexed by the fascinating process that is the Miss Victorias preparation for a storm, the returning sailors seemed to know exactly what to be done. Gunco, though just as scared as the rest of the Neopets by the imminence of the tempest, couldn't help but admire the orchestrated efficiency at which the merchant ship's members worked. It made him feel proud to be a cog in this grand machine, albeit a useless cog.

But a machine could not hope to overcome the vast forces of Mother Nature; and today, Mother Nature was bent on destruction. The storm drew closer and closer and eventually engulfed the ship in a mass of black and massive thundershocks and lightning bolts.

Gunco was unsure of his new role in the middle of the storm. Previously the toilet cleaner, he seemed to have no work to do but flail about and try his best not to get in the way of others. He then realized that he had forgotten to put on his father's medallion when he had climbed back on board.

Cursing fluidly underneath his breath, Gunco slithered back to the starboard side of the ship. A heavy BOOM! of thunder, and the ship submerged for a few seconds--

Choking up mouthfuls of sea- and rainwater, Gunco flapped his wings, for lack of anything more constructive he could do amidst the chaos. He could understand why Father hated the sea so much; who but sociopaths enjoy this terror? Of not knowing whether or not you're actually on port, and whether or not there is not some piece of fatal flotsam lying about, waiting to skewer your backside; the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and not the good type of adrenaline, but the kind your ancestors gave to you to run away from fleet-footed Wolves--

Some barrels containing wine had gotten loose from their ropes. They were rolling towards Guncotton, but he could not have known that, being blinded temporarily by a lightning flash and groping around to find Father's medallion---

He was hit in the head by a barrel, and his world went completely black.

He burst out of the water in a haze of confused waves. He spat out globules of saltwater and wheezed, inhaling sea-air. Somehow, he had gotten stuck inside a barrel; and the reason for his sudden return to consciousness was because the barrel had capsized, and he would have drowned should he have kept slumbering.

After he took care of the immediate physical necessities--yes, Gunco was not going to suffocate inside the barrel, but yes, it was giving him enough support so that he would not sink to the bottom of the ocean--Gunco was truly overcome by the vastness of his predicament. He denied it at first and bit his feathered wings, but when he felt warm liquid, he knew that this was reality.

Still, he couldn't believe it. He refused to. He looked around himself--a calm sea, a beautiful day for mayhaps another happy dip aboard the Miss Victoria--desperately seeking the props to this practical joke. It was a prank, right? Just one set up elaborately; Gunco gulped and his vision swam; just a joke gone awry...

He was not fooling himself. Gunco had to admit to his new and horrible reality; somehow, over the coarse of the storm, he was separated from the Miss Victoria and was now stranded in the middle of the ocean.

Oh,

Gunco indulged in a charming variety of curses, but words could not bring him back on Miss Victoria.

So what do I do now?

Truth be told, there was not much to do, so Gunco relaxed his muscles and stared wonderingly at the sky.

...

the sun passes directly overhead it is very bright i think i am blind now

who am i

x

The pirates came like thieves in the night, and they pulled Guncotton out of the sea in a net normally reserved for fish.

At first, Guncotton was overjoyed. His delirium subsided enough so that he was somewhat aware of his surroundings, he was delighted to be back on a ship, and even dared to hope that somehow, miraculously, the Miss Victoria had found him again.

But he was wrong; and no matter how much he would wish otherwise later, things would always remain in this manner.

They threw him onto the deck, and Gunco tried to play dead at first. He landed with a thud on the slippery floor, which stank of WATER and death. He was so scared that he nearly defecated in his pants.

These were pirates. Gunco did not know how exactly he knew--but there was no light where these creatures trod. No sun shine upon pirate ships, and Gunco was sure that even if he opened his eyes he would not see much else. And the ship smelled like rotten fish, which was not a funny smell at all.

And now, what came? Would he be torn from limb to limb; be eaten alive? Would the Pirates hold him for ransom? Would they practice dark magic on him? Would they feed him to sharks for their own amusement?

Giggling all around the place--creaky laughter that sounded like poorly oiled piano notes. Strangled noises that sounded like hyenas waiting for the leader of the pack to declare death upon a captive prey. I thought they were supposed to be more jolly, Guncotton thought to himself with a deadpan humor. Was this the dead man's desperation, to make bad jokes to himself?

_"Make him walk the plank," chorused the pirates insidiously. Their voices crept like fast-growing crawlers around the Hissi. "And then watch as his little scales get peeled off, one by one, uno a uno, yi ge yi ge--"_

Gunco dared to lift his eyelids a slit, hoping that the yellow of his eyes was conspicuous. He saw looming figures surrounding him in a circle; oh goodness, this was humiliating, this was like nothing he had ever felt before.

Did the Pteri feel this way too? Did it linger for a few moments in life before it found death?

Then Gunco heard bouncing.

Yes, bouncing. Not the good-natured hop of the Blumaroo, not the happy jumping of the Jubjub, but the hard thuds of a Kiko drawing closer and closer. And under any other circumstances, Guncotton would laugh at the manifestation of such a small Neopet, but in this case, he wanted to drop like a stone to the bottom of the sea.

(and just stay there for eternity)

And Guncotton suddenly found himself being pulled off the floor by two strong, bony hands; and, frightened, he really defecated in his pants but he could not laugh, not even scream in terror when the pirates started to yelp in hilarity and yell and holler so that their heads would roll off and loll about the deck--

_"Whoooo areeee yeeeee," The Kiko Captain breathed into Guncotton's face. Guncotton smelled fetid afterlife. "Nammeeee yeselfff."_

Gunco was too startled to speak. His whole body felt stiff, paralyzed, as if the Kiko's words had shot him through the head. This cannot be happening! I am the son of a prosperous silversmith, the prodigy son, and I have signatures from all royal families of Neopia; I will not die on a pirate ship!

This was all small talk. In reality, Gunco knew he was probably dead.

Indeed, the Kiko Captain--Gunco only just realized that the Captain was a skeleton, and had one big gaping hole where an eye should be, and an eyepatch covered the other--lifted a dagger it procured from somewhere, and pressed the sharp side of the blade into the soft underside of Gunco's neck.

_"I'lllll giveeee ye oneeee lastttt chanceeee," The Captain said as Gunco's vision blurred. Who are yeee?_

_"Guncotton Smith," said Gunco. His normally soft voice was just above a desperate whisper. He began counting his blessings.

x

So imagine Guncotton's surprise, when seemingly an eon had elapsed (and nobody even dared breathe), that he was dropped back onto the ground, hurting in many places but still generally intact.

_"Guncott' Smithhhh," The Kiko Captain said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, luckyyy for you, I've heard of yeeee. Youuuu haveee alll royalty in Neopiaaa droooolingggg ovaaa you, yee knowws?"_

The Kiko paused for a while to inspect Gunco's face. Gunco was not aware of how he himself looked like, so entranced was the Hissi by his own ridiculous luck.

_"Heheh, whattt I'd giveee to haveee them prettyyy queens and priincesses droolin' ova meeeee," The Captain said, chuckling. His laughter sounded like a shaking bag and bones: devoid of actual humor. "Butttt, I haveee heard of ye talenttt, luckyyy you. 'N soooo welllcomeee aboarddd the Black Handddddd."_

x

One month ago, Gunco would have predicted the ground open and swallow Seaport City, and the rest of Neopia be engulfed in volcanic waves, before he would have guessed his current predicament.

It would have been tolerable, maybe, if they had killed him outright. Then he would not have to live with the torturous knowledge that he was working for criminals.

Although, at first, Guncotton admitted that he was simply relieved to be alive. He could have been assisting terrorists, and he would have been happy knowing that his own neck was, for the time being, safe. That was before the pirates raided their first ship--a merchant one by the name of The Lilacflower.

The sailors of The Lilacflower were fine men alright--they were well-organized and well-prepared, but nothing could have taught them of the savage ways of the pirate. Gunco, himself prohibited from entering in the fray on either side,

x

Tele speaking here! Firefox closed on me and I lost some five pages more of material here. It's no biggie, but unfortunately it makes me look bad in front of you, Tinq, so I am crying now!

Just kidding :P I.. I don't cry. *sniffle* I did lose some writing though, which I hope to recover sooner if not later. There's approximately five more chapters of this coming, with a very important plot feature coming up (probably the most of the whole story), so I'm really sorry to keep you waiting. If you keep checking back, you'll see this page magically update itself! :)

Before you leave, I would like to thank Jayzara, xlaq, scholar_kid, Animalker, piiucca, sheer_angel/cinematicpianos, and m3rcuri for the beautiful, beautiful header images that they drew for Guncotton's application. Also, I would like to thank theziminvader for her drawing of Gunco.

These folks really set aside time in their lives to do this for someone that they don't even know the appearance of. I am extremely heartened by their contributions to this application, and without their help, this would be a very bland application indeed, with only my header image to guide you along.

I would also like to thank the various application raters (Khaos, ) who looked over this application to make sure it was mostly good-lookin' and good-soundin' :)

Without them, this application would pretty much be nothing, so I thank them with my heart.

I wish you the best of luck in deciding upon Guncotton's new owner! I am sure that the choice you make will be the right one.