"And the War was coming. The Earth was shaking and there was no more room in the Garden of Allah." ~ Don Henley

Johnathan never wanted this. Everyday since the issue of the warrant, she has been avoiding folks at all cost. Dodging in and out of alleyways and streets; making sure that she does not look too prominent nor too conspicuous.

Being within RhyDin City for nearly three weeks, Johnathan has come to study and memorize the areas that are alright to travel through and what certain times of the day that the said-areas have both the most amount of pass-byers--for her to blend in--and the least amount as well; so she would not look too suspicious for walking in alleyways often.

After nine days since she has written anything to anyone, one of the Postals came to Johnathan along the street where the infamous Frat House is located. The Postal handed her the letter and left before she could even deny the letter is for her.

Reading the letter, Johnathan only got irritated. No matter who you are, no one should ever be rude on how Johnathan presents her name. Plus, the Lady-Governor had no right to do that anywho; especially being named after a term of a domestic feline. Whatever. What made Johnathan angry, though, was the last line...

I'm glad to see more of his friends coming out of the woodwork. He needs us now more than ever.

"Us"? The only time Johnathan had visited Renne, they both only mentioned two other visitors--and this was before the psychological hubo-jumbo-lady came around. AND! No matter how much of a permission the Lady-Governor gives to her, Johnathan is no fool into going to a bloody jail--granted is holding the love of her life. This was going to drive her mad. She needed to see Renne again. No. She needed to BE with Renne, but she couldn't waltz right into a trap.

She hasn't been to the docks in Port South since Monday morning when she found out about the warrant. Luckily, while passing through one of the alleyways, she found some of today's edition of The RhyDin Vindicator. Johnathan read through it; growling at the fact that they misspelled her name.

"J-O-H-N-A-T-H-A-N, setargni."

There were some pass-byers; but luckily for Johnathan, they were not within earshot of her voice. And this is even more wonderful news for Johnathan! More guards at the Holding House. ...These past few days have not been her greatest. She only hopes and wishes, though, that Renne is doing well enough. Every now and again, since she last saw him, Johnathan only whispers a few words to and for Renne. She doesn't care if he can't hear her; Johnathan's heart knows that Renne's heart can hear it loud and clear. She promised him that she would be safe, but eventually her mind wandered as she continued onto going through alleyways and near empty streets.

Maybe, to be safe, is to give herself--no. Captains--active or not--never take back their promises. And Johnathan has certainty that she is not going to start that with Renne. Ripping up both the Vindicator newsletter and the letter from Lady-Governor, she placed some of the hand-made confetti in one trashcan in one alleyway and most in three different trashcans in the next alleyway. Few of the pieces, though--mainly of the letter--Johnathan placed in her mouth and chewed on it like it was tender meat. The ripping was so jagged and scattered that even if a great hunter found the paper, he or she could never place the ripped pieces back together properly.

Speaking of hunters, it was probably that idiot of a fool named Malcolm who squealed on her. And dear Gods, she hopes that there is no bounty on her head.

"I am here and I will be forever and ever." ~ Jude

With less than two hands worth of days left until Captain Kidd and Johnathan's plan to breakout Renne will proceed. She has been careful for nearly a month now. Traveling through the City in the underground smugglers' tunnels. Granted, they do not reach everywhere, but for Johnathan; it is good enough. As for the Pub, she sticks around there for company--and Lady Jewell along with Kidd were kind enough to show-and-tell the up-to-date news to Johnathan. More of news of the potential trial, which let Johnathan know that the Harold is the prosecutor...and that made Johnathan more irritated than normal. At least some of the patrons were kind enough to liter their table with bulletins from the Board and a now-old copy of The Oracle to fill in the rest of the City's news.

The tunnels? Smugglers, pirates, and outlaws alike are equal down there--but they still needed to survive. Luckily, she had enough silver crowns on her to get through "toll" and also to get what she needed--another bag. Not for her, though. For Renne. She remembered seeing his items when she visited him that one time in the Cells, but only his pockets as his luggage. If they are to get out quickly and swiftly, Renne needs to be as light--when he already is--as possible.

As for Johnathan's bag? Well, that is where she is going. As dusk falls, Johnathan peeked out of the doors from the Powder Keg Pub and glanced around. Some of the folk were not paying any attention, thank gooshness. It was rather strange not to see alot of folk out during dusk. However, Johnathan did see a couple of limping walking corpse-like folk--thankfully into town--but she thought nothing of it. And she doesn't want to. Too much was on her mind. For example, every scenario she could imagine in case she and Kidd get caught before the rescue was successful--or while it is happening. And that is where her silent sword comes in. She won't kill--unless it means to get away free with Renne in her arms, alive and free as well.

But to be ridden of this City, it would mean that all that she needs and-or want would be within her possession. Which means, her bag. With the utmost stealth--which is not alot--Johnathan could muster up, she slowly and carefully walked over the pier's end. Constantly looking back behind her; knowing that some formation of eyes were upon her, she peered down to the Oceans' Waters and blinked, letting her right hand rest upon the hilt of the sheathed sword, making sure it was at the ready.

"I do so apologize. But may I please ha'e me bag back. It will be either with ye or through the Trees that we shall tra'el. And if it is ye, I do hope that yer wa'es are well and not torrent."

Johnathan kept watch of the waves, temporarily oblivious to her surroundings. And with that, coming from the Waters, within a bubble, was her bag; both in pristine and dry conditions. Bending down to grab ahold of the bag and picking it up from the Waters, Johnathan did stay bent down, but now in a bowing-formation.

"I thank ye kindly fer e'erything. And I promise ye that ye will ha'e another sailor upon yer Waters--and the return of I upon yer Waters."

Straightening back up, Johnathan turned about and quickly jogged back--bag in tow--to the Pub. After nearly five years off of them, the former Captain Johnathan Tapole may return to the Seas--with Renne and a great deed of help from Kidd.