Chapter Text
Pixl had terrible luck. Anyone who met him could see that, could watch the trail of death that followed in his footsteps and the misfortune he caused just by being near. Pixl hated it. He hated watching those around him fall and staring helplessly as disaster struck innocent lives. He was an omen of death, a broken mirror, and albatross, whatever you wanted to call it, and there were no two ways about that.
And it seems the Universe continues to reassure him of that when, as he is trying to sneak food for the small group of survivors he had been traveling with, a gunshot sounds out behind him. Screams quickly follow. Pixl, in an act of selfishness, steals a few more apples and loaves of bread. He shoves them into his bag -which was already over filling with a few bottle of rum and spare clothes he had picked up- and then turns and runs towards the commotion, trying to act like the concerned and innocent citizen he most certainly is not.
There's a cluster of people ahead, women in long dresses bump their umbrellas against men in expensive suits, those dressed nearly in rags try to peek through the crowd while children with tears in their eyes hide behind their parents. What could possibly draw the attention of both the rich and the poor? Surely anyone with a self preservation instinct would run from the sounds of gunshot, right? Apparently not, though it wasn't like Pixl was one to judge.
He weaves through the crowd, muttering brief apologies at any elbowed sides or stepped on toes, and tries to get a glimpse of what was happening. Pixl's breath catches when he lays eyes on the scene.
Pirates.
There were pirates on the boardwalk, a dead man's body at their feet, smug looks written across their faces. The first one Pixl spots is short; green streak through dark brown hair and eyes just as dark stare at the collected group of people around him, there was a scar across his lips and large golden earrings dangled from the pirate's ears. The other is a woman, long black hair falling down her back and too sharp teeth glistening from the sun, so much so it nearly hurts to look at her.
The final member of the crew strikes Pixl as odd, yet he doesn't quite know why. Cyan blue hair that was windswept, chipped ears looking almost pointed, an eyepatch and gun, dozens of rings and necklaces adorning him. Then, the pirate turns and seems to look directly at Pixl. Pixl jumps, but is distracted by the color of the pirate's visible eye; a bright blue, almost the color of the sky on a cloudless day. Pixl wasn't sure what to make of him.
Suddenly, the pirate grins and yells out to the guardsmen that were trying to corner him and his crew, "Fine, fine, I will leave." The green streaked pirate raises an eyebrow. "On one condition!" The eyebrow goes back down. "You allow me to take that pretty little thing." And then the blue haired pirate points directly at Pixl. Great.
Pixl startles and tries to take a step back. He nearly trips, dizzy from the sudden amount of eyes boring into him as spectators turn to look at who the pirate wanted. Pixl's bad luck strikes for a second time in one day, it would seem. But what could a pirate possibly want with him? Pixl learnt as a child how to blend into a crowd, his mother having been very adamant he knew such a skill, so there was no way the pirate should have been able to pick him out of such a large group of people. And for what reason would the pirates even want to do that?
The guards seem uncaring of either the murder or the apparent kidnapping about to take place. One of the guardsmen, clearly drunk, spits on the ground, "A commoner? Whatever, just get out of here! And dont let us catch you around here or we're reporting you to the crown!"
The pirate's grin widens and he beckons towards one of his companions. The woman easily strolls over, heels splashing in the pool of blood around the body, and plucks Pixl out of the crowd, laughter clear in her eyes. "Welcome to the crew!" She says brightly.
"I- wait a moment, please." Pixl struggles in her scarily strong grasp. "There's people I need to get back to! Please, I can't leave them!"
She shrugs uncaringly, "They'll cope."
Pixl wanted to argue that no, they wouldn't. They were starving and sick and dying. And then he thought better of it. If he was being honest with himself, he was probably the cause of their states, the cause of the invasion and ruin. His people would probably do better off without him, they were stong and would thrive without the oppressive weight of an omen of death. Pixl wasn't a fan of becoming a pet for these pirates, but he was no better than them, was he? Murderous thieves all around. Perhaps they'd make good acquaintances, if they didn't kill him or his luck killed them first.
So, he stayed quiet and let the pirates haul him off onto their ship, all three of them mirthful.