"I feel like I'm in love with a stranger I've never known. Although he's still a mystery, I'm so glad I'm not alone." ~ Neil Finn

Johnathan kept on walking back and forth between the docks on Port South and everywhere else. So, how come does she not talk with anyone else? Granted; she spoke a very few amount of people. But she was always like that. Funny, though. One of the Post-Folk ran up to her and handed her an enveloped letter. Do they know anyone and everyone? She did not mind, for it was addressed to her either way. She just found it odd that the Post-Folk don't ask who you are. She was only a five minute walk from the stupidly infamous Inn, so, logically she started pacing back and forth between one end of the street and the other to read the letter.

"That is it. Time. Ye better lead I right." And off she went to the docks.

A year precisely after she received the crystallized frog charm, Johnathan was out at Seas. She has yet to wear it; for she still did not figure out how to put it on. It was inbetween midday and dusk when something in Johnathan's jacket pocket gave a melodic tone. Pulling out from the pocket, she held out in her hand the frog charm that was giving that tone. Knitting her eyebrows in confusion, some of her fellow crewmembers along The Missing Link were just as confused. The tune was rather haunting and yet so serene. And with that, the frog moved on its own. It jumped from Johnathan's hand to her neck; inbetween her two clavicle bones. That very moment when the frog jumped onto her neck, it started to claw itself into her skin--and even deeper. Clutching at her neck, while some of her crewmembers were helping her out by assisting her at tugging on her hands. It only took two minutes for the strange frog charm to be burned onto her. Finally, releasing her hands; the tune finally ended and the charm itself was now upon her; forever burned onto her.

~Fear no harm, Captain. I am here for you. Tell the mates that you are alright.~ The elderly male's voice surrounded Johnathan's mind.

Johnathan looked around for a moment to her crew as she nodded a bit; more to whomever was talking in her head. She then sighed and and nodded once again to her crewmembers.

"I am allright. Thank ye. Back to stations."

The crewmembers then saluted her and went off; leaving her alone.

~Allright. They are gone. Now, why are ye in me head. Frack that. Who in the bullocks are ye?~

~I am...Well. Call me Time.~

~Wait. Time-Father?~

~DON'T CALL ME THAT!~ His voice boomed within her head; making her wince a bit.

~Ow. Sorry. So, Time. What are ye doing in me head?~

~The prophet that gave you this was a fellow follower of mine. He foresaw something unusual about you and wolves; so I allowed him to give one of my charms.~

~Duely noted on both. So what is it completely?~

~I cannot tell you, Captain. To be quite honest with you. I am only here to guide you.~

~Then why are ye 'round in the first place if ye cannot tell I anything 'bout the Potential Future?~

~Again. To guide you. I do not know completely of what will happen to you, since I am not a Fate, Captain.~

~Please, at least call I 'Nathan. It is so strange fer someone as high as ye to call I the proper title. Are ye going to be constantly 'bout?~

~No. But a good amount of the time, I will.~

Now back at the docks, and staying there for the evening. She blinked as she looked down to the frog charm; giving off the pale green glow again. Knitting her eyebrows in confusion, she then nodded a bit as she pulled the sailor's bag of hers in front of her. She then took out the two egg-shaped rocks and placed them onto the docks' ground.

"Allright. Please lead the way."

And with that, the two rocks rolled on, leading Johnathan to the Holding Houses--where Renne is.

"If God has a masterplan that only He understands; I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through." ~ Depeche Mode

Johnathan, though hating this City more and more everyday; but she does like to know what the bullocks are going on. Meandering through the City--when is she not?--she stopped in front of the bulletin board and blinked. Knitting her eyebrows in confusion to the word "Outsider Master Mage." Well at least some accept Outsiders. She nodded a bit though in a silent congratulations towards the two newly-wedded strangers. At least a couple is happy together...But the moment of joy soon faded from Johnathan as her face gave a little hint of sadness--knowing now more than ever that nothing like that will happen between Renne and herself. Sure, maybe a Bind--but Hells. Johnathan--no matter how much she denies it--is a girl when it comes to all that emotional sorts. And every girl dreams of a big wedding with the one that they are completely and utterly in love with. But before any of the other bulletin readers were able to see her face, she mentally kicked herself back into the stoic state and off she went. For more aimless traveling around town.

"So sweet, Darling. Why don't you pretend we were just a dream?" ~ Carly Hennessy

Nearing forty-eight hours since Johnathan took a dive off the farthest pier in the Port South docks, she finally emerged from the slowly-harshed waves. She didn't gasp for air; only breathed in as if she only dipped in just five second ago. She didn't even have to wipe her face from the water; though she did have to move the dripping wet curly hair away from her face. Looking up to the clouded skies--to see what time it was--she blinked and sighed. Treading herself to underneath the pier's board; she was kind of surprised to see her bag and her sword still there--a bit wet, but there all in all. Unhooking her sword from her bag and tossing it ontop of the pier; then untied her bag and tossed that as well ontop of the pier. She then jumped as much as she could to grab ahold of the pier's edge; Johnathan hoisted herself up and just simply kept herself in a kneeling position for a small moment. Her skin and her clothes dried most quickly--as if she was her own heater--but she wasn't. Her skin sopped up all the water, as if she was a sponge. Her hair took the longest; and that is when Johnathan worked most diligently to place her hair back in a pony-tail before it dried up completely and turn into a huge puff-ball.

Grabbing her sword and bag, she slowly stood up and stretched. Seeming as if she woke up from a nice night of sleep and rest, she looked more rejuvenated than well before she left her Harbors. Johnathan thought for a moment, though. She turned around and gazed at the Holding Houses; hoping that Renne was just a little better. She tapped onto the yeti's claw and the small bottle idley, as she soon thought only of Renne. Granted, she knew that Johnathan herself would be better if Renne was at her side. But she also knew well enough that she could not think of herself--ever.

It then dawned on her. Flashes within her brain. Then a sudden pain in her head. Slowly sitting back down on the pier, the flashes of audio memories that seemed to only happen in her mind fade in and out.

"The helm needs company."

"It always needed attention. So why do you not need it?"

"I ha'e to think of e'eryone else. To make sure all is safe. I need to know that He will be safe."

And finally the visual came.

The area seemed like any other Port-Town and a harbor. So many piers, but all was empty save for one. A simple pirate ship, but no crew, no flag, no cargo. Only two people were on it. Johnathan, wearing something that not many have seen her in--a simple dark-crimson red dress where it went down to her ankles, save for the front part where it was cut perfectly in a "U" shape up to her knees. Funny, she did not have any of her necklaces, save for the frog charm embedded on her. The weather was perfect. Sunny and breezy; but not breezy enough for anyone to catch a cold and not too hot enough to suffer from heat-stroke. There was a man with her, though. He looked in his mid-to-late forties. Bushy salt-and-peppered hair; a matching salt-and-peppered goatee. Well-fit--like a retired crewmember. He was wearing a dark-brown vest over a dark-blue shirt that was tucked in a jet-black raw-leather pants. Funny thing about him, though, he had a staff that seemed like had so many versions of clocks--a sun-dial, a sand-turner, a compass, and even one of those mechanical clocks. Both of them were barefooted. They watched the helm just lying on the floor near its axle. There were no sound save for the sound of the waves crashing against the ship gently and their own voices.

"He only wishes to see you safe as well. They all do. They all wish to see you happy."

"Me happiness is seeing them happy."

The man finally looked away from the helm and glanced over to Johnathan. "Liar."

She then glanced over to the man and gave a sheepish small smile. "I cannot keep him from the place he calls home. And I cannot abandon the Harbors." She then sighed, looking back to the lying helm. "Time. I do not want to li'e two separate li'es. But I do not want to go back who I was befere him."

"I cannot choose your decision. I am here to help you out."

Slowly walking over to the helm, Johnathan knelt down and just stared at it. There was nothing spectacular about it. Just an ordinary helm-wheel that was not on its axle. She finally picked it up--with a bit of a grunt--and slowly slipped it back on its axle.

"Is that your decision, then?"

"Helms allways need the attention."

The image faded as soon she finished the sentence. Snapping back to Reality, Johnathan blinked rapidly as she looked over to the Holding Houses.

"I will get ye back. And The Rains and The Waters can be witnesses of me promise."

And with that. Grabbing her things and standing up, she clipped on her sheathed sword onto her belt and placed on her bag and off she went with determination. Away from the piers. But before she was not able to see the Waters anymore in this point in time, she directed herself towards the open waters and this time, bowed the whole of herself deeply.

"Thank ye. Fer e'erything. And ye, Time."

Johnathan stayed in her deep bow for another small moment and straightened herself back up. Turning around, she went back into the town, more determination on her face than when she first came around.

"The warning came from lips that spoke the truth." ~ Think of England

All day, Johnathan has searched. But alas, she has been unsuccessful thusfar to find this Malcolm. She has asked around--to see if there was a hangout for fellow solo bounty-hunters or whatnot. Societies here and there, but no hangout. Johnathan has yet to go across to the other side of the City. The look of determination still upon her face, her hand steadied upon the hilt of her sheathed sword. Not to worry, she would find this Malcolm soon enough.

"I want to be a hunter again." ~ Dido

Just when Johnathan was losing hope, there was one place that she has yet to look around at. The Maritime. Duh. So, turning at the beginning of the street where The Maritime laid, she saw someone hanging around the place so late in the evening. She blinked, curling her lips a bit in sadistic pleasure. As she slowed her walking pace to a wanderer's meander, she unbuttoned the top two buttons on her crimson shirt; showing just a bit of her chest. Finally, she placed on her "I'm a lonely girl in the dark of the night" face and strolled over to in front of the Maritime, near the stranger.

After a few moments of polite conversations, Johnathan did come to find out that this stranger was Malcolm. She gave the sweetest smile as she did ask him to walk her "home." He was nice enough to do so. Granted she had no home here; but what he doesn't know...well, yeah, it will harm him in the end. Taking him down to the next street, where it did have an alleyway; they talked abit more, until she took him to the alleyway. And that is where Johnathan took out the hunter. Thusfar, she only pinned him against the alley-wall.

"Oof! What's th' big ideas?! Ah'm jes' maintainin' justice. An' 'sides, Missus Hutch, she's gon' kill me arready!" Malcolm was already squirming like a worm on a fishhook.

"Oh, but I thought ye needed some rest and relaxation first. Plus, Ada asked I to look fer ye." Wait a tic! So Johnathan was looking for him this whole time. Heh. Lady she may be, she did have the strength of a sea-brute.


To sum up all the detailed yet brutal conversated investigation; Malcolm did say that he wanted justice all about RhyDin City--and believed that Humans were on top of the food-chain. But Johnathan knew--and has known for ALL of her life--that there is no chain. Just survival of the fittest basically. And also, for the first time since she has been here, Johnathan took out her sword. It was rather odd looking. It was wavy exactly like a ceremonial dagger but as long as a longsword. She used it with pride and accuracy. She also explained to Malcolm on why she is protecting Renne. He is, after all, the ONLY reason why she leaves her Harbors and its Port-Town.

There was one thing, though, that made Johnathan realize something.

"Justice. Y'kill someone in col' blood, y'oughta' pay fer it."

"And paying something that ye did not do..." Her voice trailed off when it finally clicked in her. Though hating all the psycho-babble crap just as much as Outsiders, it was something they called split personalities. Renne was not himself 'cause he really wasn't himself.

Damages? Well, in the end it was Malcolm with a broken nose, a clean piercing right under his left knee-cap and through the leg...where it is more than highly possible that he would not be able to walk on that leg again, bruised left cheek, a couple of bruised or broken rib-bones and probably destroyed and-or bruised testicles and scrotum. While Johnathan had not a scratch. Didn't help that Malcolm did nothing to her. So, off Malcolm went scampering as Johnathan stood there. She did not completely fulfill what she wanted, but in hopes of scaring him, hurting him and threatening him--he just might leave RhyDin City...maybe RhyDin Country. There was little blood on Johnathan's sword, but she did sheathed it back into his resting place. Buttoning back her shirt two where it was only the top two unbuttoned, she started walking back to the docks in Port-South, only giving a sadistic smile of glee.

Municipal Court, Rhydin Judicial District

To any peace officer of the realm: Complaint upon oath having been brought before me that the crime of Assault has been committed, and accusing Johnathan Helena Tapole of the same, you are hereby commanded forthwith to arrest and bring that person before me. Bail may be admitted in the sum of Nine Hundred and Seventyfive thousand crowns. Dated: 13 August 2007. Signed, Bill Wright, presiding judge.

Supporting Affidavit

I Henery Hillingsworth, occupation Shipping Clerk, do solemly swear on the night of Sunday August 12th I witnessed the individual in question lead one Mr Malcom Atsedes, who is well known around the establishment where I work, into the alley behind said establishment.

I was working late in the office on some files when I heard voices on the street outside, and thinking one familiar I went to the window to ask Malcom in for a drink. We usually shared a beer when I had to work late and often included whatever poor soul Malcom was with at the time on occasion. I didn't think anything amiss until the lady in question pushed Malcom up against the wall and held some sort of knife to his throat. I left the window then to ring for the watch then went back to keep an eye on things.

That crazy bitch nearly killed Malcom. I could only hear snatches of the conversation I didn't want to open the window. I like Malcom well enough but she probably would have killed us both.

Last night had been a mess, from the moment Tom stepped out on patrol to the moment he clocked out nothing but shit had happened. First someone reported gunshots, by the time Tom had gotten to the site the guys for station six (they may be goof offs but they were damn good at their jobs) Had that covered.. an apparent murder.. Then someone called from the red dragon.. to report the theft of the dishes in the inn sink.. apparently some poor sap had washed and put them away. But the last straw came as Tom was walking back to the station house. He literally tripped over a bleeding man in the street.

This was why Tom hated patrolling the docks.

Calling for a medic unit, Tom got the man Identified from his belongings as one Malcom Atsedes to the station five barracks. The unit field medic triaged the man's wounds and then sent for Doc Nightstar. Chryrie Nightstar was the name on the contact list under "Shit the medics can't handle"

And now after a full nights shift Tom was pulling overtime delivering arrest warrants. Being a member of the watch really sucked sometimes.

This may be under the PG-13ish type of thing. Rather graphic detail.

"Father can you help me with the choice I've made?" ~ Thisway

Within a few small weeks of Johnathan becoming captain of The Missing Link, all of her crewmembers were curious about her. Why did she rarely speak unless giving a command or explaining things? Or why did she even accept to become captain when the crewmembers finally caught her from killing everyone else? Why does she never eat, drink nor sleep? And why did she have a cast-iron frying pan hanging against a wall in her quarters? So many questions and more.

During a night with no breeze, and the crew near the brink of cabin-fever, Johnathan came out--for the first time wearing a captain's proper attire. Slate-blue cotton shirt under a dark-blue peacoat and a raw-leathered pair of pants with matching boots. Her hair was in a tight ponytail--and it was so strange to see this young of a Johnathan to where the Frog-Charm was not even a glimmering thought in her sub-conscioused mind. She called out for a meeting upon the deck.

"I am sure that all of ye ha'e been placing in theories within the unasked questions since I came onboard. Well. I will answer all of yer questions. And a good amount of them ye do not need to ask."

Johnathan--only a smidge over 107 years, but looking just mere fifteen years of age--asked her crewmembers; watching them all with a stoic yet curious look upon her face.

A couple of the crewmembers cleared their throats--from both coughing and from the embarrassing kind of way.

"Try ha'ing a completely feminine name and go through yer years of going to school being teased. Also try being a halfing where yer family name is shunned upon fer it was yer father who fell fer a People. Then come see I and talk 'bout the same things that I had to go through; but with two boys that had the same name as I."

She knew that all of them were confused at that term.

"Ye all will get used to how I speak and how I do not talk. I do not mind chit-chat, as long as the job is getting done. And ob'iously, ye also do not mind being under the command of a female fer two reasons. A-the whole lot of ye chose I. And B-any of ye would ha'e stayed within port. Now, I also ha'e heard that some of ye ha'e been dying to get into me pants. Unless ye are itching to wear them and show the tight fat arses most of ye ha'e; it will ne'er happen. And I am not afraid of cutting yer scrotum off and stuffing it down yer throats. And then I would not be the only female onboard."

Johnathan did see quite a few of the crewmembers squirm a bit and clear their throats out of nervousness.

"Me body does not know of hunger or thirst nor exhaustion. That is how I was raised. Me kind ha'e all e'er needed to sur'i'e is to be within a mile of Sea Water. And as for proper names, it is either 'Captain,' 'Captain Tapole,' or 'Captain, Sir." I may ha'e the kind of bosom that most of ye all are cra'ing; but I am sure I am more manly than any of the lot will be. But feel free to challenge I with anything. Any other questions?"

One of the sailors hesitated for a few seconds, to see if any other brave hands would raise along with his. But alas, only his.

"Umm. Three questions. Why a male name? Why did ya join us? And what with tha pan?"

Johnathan looked over to the man with the raised hand and listened to the three sheepish questions.

"Laurence, right?"

She did see the man nod a bit.

"I had nowhere else to go and more than likely when the Port-Town gained back strength; they would ha'e cast I out fer being some formation of a curse. The frying pan ga'e redemption to the dead kin...and me family. And as fer me name. Me father and the neighbor had a race to see whose child would be born first. And whome'er was last had to been named one of the most common names with an "H" to throw in a loop. So."

She then points to herself.

"There ye go. Anyother questions?"

Johnathan waited for a good two minutes within the silent men before stepping away silently to her quarters.

Sure, there were NEAR the same questions everytime Johnathan gained a new set of crewmembers; but none of the sets save for the first set ever knew what she was doing.

"And Solitare's the only game in town." ~ The Carpenters

"Is everyone ready? I want to make sure that we don't leave anyone behind...again."

Lady Cera mumbled the last word under her breath. The forty-year-old-looking teacher grabbed her travel bag as she made sure that all of the seventeen eleven-year-old-looking children were out from the schoolhouse. She then sighed and walked out of the schoolhouse behind them. The teacher was no taller than a half-foot over five feet; though the platinum-silver hair kind of contradicted the golden-brown complexion, but still looked nice all in all. She was not lean nor plump, just in the middle--she could handle herself but might have a bit of trouble of running too long. Neverthematter.

The seventeen children--funny enough--lined up into two lines of eight. But since there are seventeen, one of them did not have someone else to talk to. Which is rather normal for all classrooms had a loner in it somewhere.

As soon as Lady Cera saw all the children ready, she then gestured her hand towards the direction they would be walking to.

And without missing a beat, the line started marching on. Of course, the children in line chatted and laughed along the walk--save for the loner. The last one in the line kept to herself, along with Lady Cera.

Lady Cera stayed in the back, to get a better view of the students. After a few moments, though, she finally spoke to the lone girl; to make polite conversation.

"Tapole. Please tell me why your first name is masculine?"

Lady Cera Always called little Johnathan 'Tapole'...since there always was two other Jonathans--who were boys--in the class.

"It is with an 'H' first of all."

The young lone girl looked no older than eleven years old. Johnathan's voice still has that strange accent-amany thing. The dark-brown curly hair that went down to mid-back; however, she did keep some of it in front to hide her face a bit. Wearing a pale green long-sleeved shirt that went a little past her waist and a jet-black pants. She really did keep to herself in class, but that is how she was. To make sure that noone realized that she was there. That and it doesn't help that she is the only halfling there, which the other children believed it was some odd sickness.

"Me father lost a bet, Lady Cera. One of the neighbors were also in labor. So the fathers made a bet to see whose child would be born first. If the own's child was born last, no matter what gender; it would be named 'Johnathan' purposely spelled with an 'H.' And I was the result."

"Oh."

Lady Cera tried to keep it simple. Even though she was the teacher and needs to see each child as equal--but sub-consciously, she did not like Halfsies as well. She then looked up towards the beginning of the line.

"Robert! Thomas! Stop switching back and forth!"

The two young boys kept weaving in and out of the other children.

Lady Cera started walking towards the front, leaving young Johnathan alone.

It took about another ten minutes inorder to get to the docks. Ships here and there, but there was one at the end of the largest pier was a warship. But for the first time ever in the history in this Port-Town of Eeds, it was a metal ship. The children were amazed and in shock of such a sight.

The weather was just a bit overcasted, but it was still a lovely mid-morning all in all. The seas were also calming. The Port-Town and Harbor of Eeds have only been filled with Sea-Elvens for over five thousand years.

And the Tapole family were the first set of family to slaughter that tradition. But Johnathan never let that get in the way...completely. While being in the back of the line, she watched the other children be amazed at this strange phenomena. Granted, she did as well, but she stopped walking as she watched the whole warship. Knitting her eyebrows in confusion, as she only just watched the warship that was made of metal.

The crew of the Warship The Anonymous were standing out in front of the docking platform. The Human captain wore a deep blue coat over a pale-white shirt that was tucked in a matching deep blue pants. He looked very proper and rather sharp, but he still had a soft look beyond that trimmed-beard aged face. Looking down to the children that were keeping their distance, but were huddled close to watch him; he only chuckled a bit as he glanced back to the other eleven crewmembers. He then quickly looked back to the children, having his voice very proud sounding and had a welsh accent to it.

"Welcome and thank you all for coming. I am Captain George Lowe. And this behind me is The Anonymous. One of the five active and only warships completely made from metal. New minerals called titanium and a more advanced formation of steel were the main slates behind this."

The Captain's voice faded away as Johnathan continued to watch the warship. She canted her head a bit with curiosity, but after a few minutes, the dark-brown eyes widen a bit. And with that, young Johnathan ran over to the crowd of children; stood in the back but raised her hand high over their heads.

"...was the first battle with this--ah. Questions. Good. I like those. That young lady in the back."

"Sir. We should not get on the ship. The Waters cannot handle it."

The children started laughing at the young Johnathan as some of them made faces at her.

"The Waters are calm and strong today, Tadpole. You must be not hearing correctly."

One of the children made that snide remark and made the others laugh even more.

Johnathan furrowed her eyebrows as she looked down, already red with embarrassment.

"Class. Class! Quiet down."

Lady Cera looked down to Johnathan and blinked; already looking disappointed at her

"Now, Tapole. Who told you that? The Waters have been doing well for the past week."

Johnathan did not say a word, but then pointed to the warship.

And then came more roaring laughter from the children. All these children, including the halfling Johnathan, were of Sea-Elven descent. They could listen to the Waters perfectly well, but nothing else.

Lady Cera tried her best to keep a straight stern face; but she did crack a little smirk of silliness towards Johnathan. She then quickly ignored Johnathan and looked up to Captain Lowe.

"I do so apologize. Please continue on."

Captain Lowe watched all the children and the teacher, he gave a curious look. He then gently nodded in a 'thank you' format and then gestured his crewmembers to go up and on. The crewmembers marched on up the platform and there was a small bit of creaking; but no one really paid attention to it. Captain Lowe then went up halfway to the docking platform, turned about and gestured the children to follow.

"Come along everyone. I will continue on with the battle stories."

Right before the first child set on foot on the docking platform, the warship--for an odd reason or another--just suddenly...dropped. And since it was completely made of metal; it dropped faster than any other kind of ship. And with the sinking; some of the uber-girly children screamed out of fear.

When the docking platform started to fall down from the sinking warship; Captain Lowe jumped from the falling platform back onto the steady docks. When he got to his feet and turned to his once-sturdy warship, it was already three-quarters sunken. His crewmembers luckily jumped off and were swimming back towards the docks. Confused and completely baffled; Captain Lowe pivoted with such ease and quickly went to young Johnathan. He looked down, still with a confusing face.

"How did you know that?"

"The Metal told I. They said that They were not fit to li'e out in the Waters fer so long. And They could not handle that much weight anymore."

Even that young of age, Johnathan cannot speak her "V"s

"But you can't listen to Metal. There is no way. You are not of Mineral descent."

Lady Cera sounded rather adamant about that; as if not even a halfling could change tradition

Young Johnathan shook her head.

"I know I am not. But I heard Them all. I heard Them."

Johnathan looked back to where the warship once was and knitted her eyebrows in confusion.

By then, everyone ignored Johnathan as the crewmembers were trying to recuperate and make sure that the children are calmed down.