Mirrah was tied to a chair. By god, she let herself get captured and allowed those damn pirates to tie her to a chair, all in her sleep. Her hands were tied by the wrists by, what Mirrah assumed, was rope that was then threaded through the poles that made up the backing of the chair. And she had this awful headache that just hung around her ears, making the entire room buzz.

She didn't know how long she'd been out. From the tiny porthole window, the lack of light told her it was nighttime. Only the sun was already setting when she was knocked out, so that didn't tell her much. There was a single glow orb situated at the top of the room, making it feel like daytime which was incredibly confusing for Mirrah's internal clock.

Only that the last thing she remembered was someone sneaking up behind her and bagging her head with a potato sack. Now she sat in what looked like a child's room. There were crayon and pencil drawings that were not unlike that of an eight year old. The room had all the accommodations to live on a ship, even a mirror that had only a minor crack in the corner, just everything was nailed to the floor and no one bothered to hide the giant lumps of nails that protruded from their furniture. The room itself was rather small, understandable to fit inside a ship. A hammock swung lazily back and forth in the back of the room, proving with every motion that she was still on the ocean. For some strange reason, Mirrah felt better not seeing the swaying ocean than when she did. No one else was in the room, but the door, well out of reach, was closed. Probably locked. And guarded.

Mirrah had assumed they took her to their ship, though she didn't know why in Gaea they wanted her of all people, but she never expected there to be children on the ship. Either that or one of the pirates were terrible at drawing.

And hopefully, they were bad at tying knots too.

Mirrah tried pulling her arms apart, but each forceful jerk only made her wrists burn from the coarse rope pressing deeper into her skin. The knot was tight. Well they probably weren't that stupid. But, they did leave her gauntlet on. Normally, it'd be easy to get out of the situation by undoing her gauntlet, thus freeing one of her hands, but seeing how her other hand was also tied up at the moment, that wasn't an option. Regardless, a gauntlet was still a gauntlet, sharp metal plates and all.

Doing her best to peer over her shoulder or under her arm, she twisted her wrist, flexing her left hand back and forth to ease just a sliver of the rope between the plates. Once she felt her wrist lock in place, hopefully due to the rope keeping the plate from fully folding on itself, Mirrah gave one last tug, pulling away with both her hands. The rope snapped on her first try. Mirrah made a face. She expected to tug away at least a few more times before it snapped. The rope was much thinner than she expected. But she wasn't about to complain.

Mirrah rose to her feet, suddenly feeling the floor dip into a downward slope. Immediately her freed hand went for a nearby coffee table, the other clasping over her mouth. Even with four walls blocking out the rolling waters, she still felt like heaving up some vital organ. God, she never knew how much she hated the ocean until now. She wished she never suggested to go by ocean. God she would've preferred to duke it out with dozens of mountain bandits than go for a joy ride on the ocean!

Oh damn, Wilhelm.

Mirrah raised the hand pressed against her mouth to her head. Suddenly, the rolling of the ocean didn't matter so much as the fact that she wasn't standing beside, behind, or even in the general vicinity of her charge. What the hell happened to him back on the ship? Was he caught up in the skirmish? Was he hurt? Did he get captured too? Was he going to deduct this from her pay?

Well of course he was going to deduct this from her pay. Every minute spent looking at in a different direction without Wilhelm's permission was a dollar chipped off from her paycheck. Mirrah darted a wild glance to the door. She had to get out of here.

Mirrah covered the distance between herself and the door in two strides. Her hand went for the handle, wrapping the worn wood knob with an iron grip. The lock was in the inside, much to Mirrah's relief. But that was to be expected considering this room was meant for someone to live in. Forcing every nerve in her body to keep from throwing the door open, Mirrah twisted the knob slowly, listening intently for that familiar click of the lock pulling back into the door. She waited an entire second after the click sounded before pulling the door open. A crack at first, but that was all she could manage.

The back of an off-white shirt completely eclipsed her view of the outside. A pirate was standing at the door, looking out. Mirrah spent another second contemplating how beneficial for her it would be to knock the man senseless and make a run for it. But what good would that do her? She was on a god forsaken ship in the middle of the god forsaken ocean. She could probably run to the bow of the ship and maybe wait for the pirates to get retrieve her. She was about to consider her chances of seizing the ship by herself when she noticed the man was turning his head.

He probably would've noticed the door slightly ajar if he was allowed to turn all the way, but a voice somewhere in the blocked hallway took the man's attention. Mirrah eased the door shut, holding her breath.

"Cap'n!"

Mirrah turned from the door, cursing to herself mentally. More pirates were coming. Judging from the footsteps clamoring her way, it wasn't just a few. Could she take on everyone at once? The ship rocked again, sending her mind and her stomach a definite 'no'.

"Which room's she in?"

"She's in girls' room. Sleepin' like a babe."

All the furniture was pushed against the wall and nailed to the floor, leaving no place for her to hide, except for maybe the god damn hammock. But that was made of rope and was full of god damn holes. God, why would she bother hiding anyway? The room didn't have another way out! The only thing she could see was that chair, the broken rope laying limply on the seat.

"Why'd you hafta put her in my room. You didn even let me get my toys before lockin' her up in there."

"Ava, now's not the time."

"I don't see why I have to guard her. She's tied to a chair. No wimpy girl's gonna macho her way outta a chair."

"Just open the door, Rico."

By the time the door was open, Mirrah was back in her seat, hands pulled behind her back where she was supposedly tied. An expression of completely humiliation was written all over her face and her headache did nothing to but annoy her even more. Mirrah could never play the hostage part well.