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Post by gina on Oct 3, 2017 17:46:26 GMT -8
Aye, mate … been on the account now fer goin’ on ten year,” the weathered old pirate drank noisily from the mug of grog before continuing, “Ye look hale an’ hearty, ye fancy t’ crew up?”
“Ye’ll no find a be’er crew’n the Siren's Song mate, as fine a ship’n crew as be sailin’ on the Main,” he tugged a forelock of hair, one of the few remaining on his bald pate, in a show of respect before continuing, “an’ cap’n Black be the bes’ on the whole o’ th’ seas. Go’ a nose fer Spanish gold ‘e does.”
The pirate spat on the floor beside him in a show of disgust, “Th’ Spaniard’s Ghost? Lassie ye don’ wanna be chasin’ after them stories. Tha’ ol’ ship an her dark cap’n ‘ve been th’ death or worse o more good lads an’ lassies ‘n all th’ British ‘n Spanish fleets combined. ‘Tis a dark tale an’ make no mistake, an’ wha’ most’d tell ye’d be full o’ outright lies an’ half-truths.”
He drank again before continuing, “How’d ye know I be tellin’ ye the soundin’ truth? I was there lassie. I saw it all…”
It be the year of our Lord, one thousand seven hundred an' fifteen. An' ev'ry day ships be settin' sail from ports all o're the countries o' Europe filled w' folk headin' fer a new life in the colonies, some by choice, some t'scape, some be bound t'it. Them same ships turn about an' return heavy laden w' treasures, gold, silver an' other t' swell th' coffers o kings and lords and the great companies. In between there be storms, becalmed seas, and ye. Ye may have been on th' account fer a while now, or ye may have just signed on t' th' crew. Whether ye be runnin' from th' hangman's noose, or ye be hearin' romantic tales o' th' pirate life, Here ye be now, an' it may, or may not, be everythin' ye hoped it'd be.
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Post by gina on Oct 3, 2017 18:16:09 GMT -8
Player: KurtDyl Blevins (“Dyl” sounds like “dull”)Carpenter Born: 30 October/9 November(Julian/Gregorian) 1683. Same birthday as King George II of England. Age: (in 1715) 32 Hometown: Cas-gwent, Monmouthshire, Wales, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland Signed on with the Siren’s Song in 1714 as Carpenter’s mate. Apprenticed in and around the towns at the confluence of the Wye and Severn rivers in Monmouthshire, Wales, Dyl progressed to Journeyman and eventually a Master Carpenter. His work was reliable, sturdy, if a bit plain, even for the style of the times. He probably would have been appreciated more in the Colonies. Exactly why he fled a seemingly prosperous business and signed on with a pirate ship, Dyl has been vague about, if he ever answers at all. The most concrete answer he’s given is “I was asked to leave.” In off time, he enjoys playing dice and cards with the crew. On shore, much the same.
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Post by gina on Oct 3, 2017 18:19:27 GMT -8
Player: JoeyElliot Kensington Swashbuckler “I leave this ship in your capable hands, son” Elliot's father said, draping his old green coat over his son's shoulders. “Make me proud.” “Be safe, my sweet boy,” Elliot's mother said kissing her son's forehead while his younger brother Ethan clung to her skirts. “And mind that tongue of yours!” Jocelyn said in a tone befitting her post as his older sister. “You may think your 'dashing charm' and 'razor wit' make you everybody's best mate, but wag that tongue in the wrong direction and some rogue may just cut it out for you!” “Jocelyn, please!” His mother said in a scolding tone. “Do come back soon,” Jocelyn said in a sincerity as she embraced Elliot. “...in one piece.” She added with a smirk. Elliot boarded the Fox's Cunning and as the ship sailed out into London's bustling port, he stared out back at the dock watching his family fade out of sight. Suddenly a glint of a knife in the dark, splashes of blood, and a cacophony of night-splitting screams and Elliot awoke from his nighmare, sitting up in bed and covered in sweat. It had been five years since their murder and their final moments together still haunted his dreams. The chill of the wind off the sea ran down Elliot's spine. He walked over to his chest and pulled out his father's green coat. Worse for wear and weather-beaten, it seemed to be the only cure for Elliot's troubled dreams. He slipped it on and returned to bed. Five years ago his family, his home, and his prospects had been ripped from him in bloody murder and villian responsible was still a free man, but his Uncle couldn't run forever.
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Post by gina on Oct 3, 2017 18:42:40 GMT -8
Player: Maire Damiana Physician/Cook
Damiana is the ships cook and physician. She'd prefer to simply be the physician, but the ship needs a cook every day, and a physician only occasionally. She claims no family name, saying that she'd prefer not to be reminded of either her father or her dead husband, may God place them where they belong.
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Post by gina on Oct 3, 2017 19:34:54 GMT -8
Player: GinaZaida Hernández de Castille Boatswain/Bosun “Everything was dark for a long while after they got killed. Not just because I was on this filthy ship with a bunch of hard men. Not just because I was a child an’ didn’t have my own room any more or people to look after me or a family. But because Valerio was a fuckin’ incompetent. And a sadist. An’ not ‘cause he was a pirate, because he was a bad pirate.
But then she came, Cap’n. Jeanne. She was just a year older ‘n me, but she was so strong.
An’ it was as if the darkness had naught power any more. She made it all better. Jeanne could calm any squall or rage in me. She ‘ad this sweetness, an' she would hold me, stroke my hair an’ sing quietly, jus’ to me. She knew all sorts o’ songs, mostly French, sometimes English or Dutch or Italian. Over the years, she helped make me strong, helped me endure, and even more ‘n that.
I loved her, Cap’ n. More than anything in this world.
Valerio treated her like shit. She cooked and scrubbed and did whatever nasty deed needed doin’. ‘E treated her worse ‘n me. I had some use to him ‘cause of the star gazin’. She was just a thing. And once he kenned or thought as much, ‘bout her an’ me, she was worse ‘n a thing. He could cause pain to me by hurtin’ her.
That all ended the day my Elliot came. It was both my freedom an’ the death o’ me.
Elliot got me out o’ my chains, and as we went to free Jeanne, Valerio came in an’ grabbed her, an’ I saw the point of his dagger diggin’ into her flesh. I know I screamed somethin’ at him. I don’t even remember what. Elliot lunged for him, but he just laughed and stuck that dagger into Jeanne’s ribs. The look on her face, Cap’n... Her eyes. It was like she was spendin’ her last seconds ‘ere to tell me it’d be a’right.
An' though it was her heart was cut open, in that instant the bastard ‘ad took it an’ stuck it right in my chest.
An’ it’s still there. Ever’ day. An’ moment.
I carry it in me, an' it’s slashed a’ twain an’ mangled an’ it don’t work right n' more... An’ it hurts, so much. But I can’t let go o’ it. It’s the only piece of 'er that I’ve still got.
But I know that don't matter, I jus' thought you should know. I let you down, Cap’n. An’ I let the crew down. I was derelict in my duty an’ the crew needs t’ know. Maybe it’s my fault the sea’s becalmed an’ we’ve found ourselves in th’ doldrums.
I need to pay ‘em back if I can. An’ then maybe She’ll give us back the wind.”
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