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Thread: (M)The Rage of The Murderess(IC)

  1. #1

    Default (M)The Rage of The Murderess(IC)

    Captain’s log entry, May seventeenth in the year of our Lord 1715;
    Set sail for Port Royal today. The crew’s spirits are good and the passengers seem anxious to get to their destination. One of the passengers is a musician. I look forward to hearing him play.

    June second;
    Crew morale is high. However I have been informed that some of the food has gone missing. Will place a guard near the food storage and hopefully we will be able to catch the thief. Most likely it is one of the passengers helping themselves to a late night snack. At least I hope that is what it is. I would hate to have to discipline one of the crew.

    June seventh;
    Have caught the thief. It seems we have not one, but two stowaways on board. As we are too far out to turn back now, they have been given quarters. I will decide what to do with them when we arrive at Port Royal.

    June tenth;
    One of the crew made advances towards Pip today. As a result, that member was summarily shot and his name stricken from the records.

    June fifteenth;
    Have noticed some of the crew eyeing the female passengers. Most notably, the one known as Mia. I will have to have a word with the quartermaster regarding the crew’s discipline.

    June seventeenth;
    Lost twelve crewmembers during a storm. Despite the loss, I am confident that we will reach our destination. Services to be held on deck today to mourn their passing.

    June thirtieth;
    Miss Grant has been complaining about her quarters again. Tried to explain to her that everyone gets the same quarters regardless of their standing in society. As such, I have given her my quarters for the remainder of the journey.

    July sixth;
    The merchant has expressed impatience at the length of the journey. I have assured him that we will arrive at Port Royal soon. Frankly I am anxious to be rid of him so we can free up the cargo space.

    July tenth - Today

    David stood at the wheel. It was the time he felt most free in life. Steering the ship and breathing in the sea air. With the exception of the loss of twelve crew members during a storm, he was feeling good about the journey. Though his back did ache from sleeping in a hammock below deck. He missed his bed and was anxious to make port, mostly just to be rid of the aristocrat in his quarters. They were still a week out of Port Royal, but they had finally made it to the Caribbean. All would be well from this point on, provided they didn’t run into pirates.

    “Captain sir,” the voice came from the crow’s nest. “Ship to stern. She’s flying English colours along with a flag of distress.”

    “All hands on deck!!” David yelled the words and turned the wheel and came about to intercept the ship. “And get the passengers on deck as well. We may need their help.” With David’s words, the boatswain started to ring the alarm bell and the crew sprang into action.

    Once the ship had completed it’s turn, David looked through his spyglass. The ship which was approaching was a large frigate. He could see no movement on the deck and hoped that everyone aboard was okay. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that the ship appeared undamaged.

    “Full canvas Mister McAllister!” David shouted the order to the rigger. It would allow for a little more speed, but they would have to come at the ship running beam reach. The galleon was no good running into the wind. But the frigate had the wind astern and it wouldn’t take long for them to get there.
    Last edited by Nazgul; 03-03-2010 at 10:32 PM.

  2. #2

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    A small bit of drool had puddled up below Alex's face, smearing the dark grime that had collected onto his skin and wetting the cloth sack he used as a mattress. His most prized and favored possession, soft cotton sheets he had invested in with nearly 4 months of wages wrapped around him like a caterpillar in a cocoon, inseparable, warm, and cozy. A loud snore echoed around the relatively empty cargo room as he slept.

    There are a few things that Alex held dear in this world; his parents, his sisters, and the solitude and bliss that came with sleep. Though it had become commonplace for the larger crew members to give him sharp kicks to the gut to wake him up, it still made him irritable and testy whenever he woke up.

    "Get the hell up ye useless scalawag!" yelled a crew member with a thick scows accent, "Cap'n West is callin' all hand hoay. Get up there 'n make yourself useful!" he finished, delivering two quick kicks to the stomach.

    He coughed and faltered as he rolled across the floor, trying to untangle his body from the blanket. His eyes were still watering and he could barely see a thing.

    "Aye! Right away!" he yelled back with a thick Cockney accent. Only two men aboard the Flourish knew what his real voice sounded like; still soft, cracking, and young. Of course he had grown accustomed to using his fake deep tone having been on board for over a year now.

    Finally, Alex had freed himself from the soft white prison, stumbling over to the ladder and hatch up the next deck. The pattering of footsteps on deck was able to echo all the way down to the bottom cargo bay. From the sound of it, nearly every man on board was up there right now. Something big must've been going on.

    As he climbed out of the hatch, two crew members came running past, one kicking him in the head as he ran past, nearly tripping over him in the process.

    "Watch where the hell your stickin' your head out at!" he yelled back.

    The young boy crawled across the floor for a moment, rubbing the side of his head, trying to gain his composure. Several bottles of rum rolled around on the floor, probably a box that had been knocked over in the fray. Usually Alex would've taken this chance at a free bottle of booze, but the wasn't the time or the place with crew members scrambling around. He got to his feet and followed the same path the two seadogs had took, straight up to topside.

    He surfaced at the stern, surrounded by what was probably the entire crew. No real familiar faces could be seen besides Captain West on the wheel, shouting orders. Alex ran below his navigation deck, shouting at him.

    "Cap'n, where'd ay need me?"

    Without looking, the Captain shouted an order.

    "Help Mister McAllister with the rigging. Be prepared to douse canvas and fire grappling hooks the moment we are along side her!" he yelled, expertly surveying the crew's progress.

    "Aye!" Alex complied, turning to look at the helper skelter on deck. The Scot was no where in sight.

    "Laine, ya stupid Scottish bastard, where are ya?" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
    Last edited by Stream; 03-04-2010 at 12:55 AM.

  3. #3
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    "Oh for heaven's sake! Where is that hairpin?"

    Sophia Grant let out a groan as she searched the floor for the missing accessory. Despite being alone in the room, her cheeks reddened in shame at her predicament. Imagine if her friends back in England could see her now: crawling around on her hands and knees searching for a pin. Only a few months ago she would have sent a servant to buy a dozen hairpins without blinking an eye. But here on a ship, even little luxuries were too rare to come by to risk losing even one.

    A silvery glimmer caught the corner of her eye and to her great relief Sophie turned to see the pin just to her left. But as she reached for it the Flourish suddenly lurched with the sea and it rolled under the bed. Sophie stifled a curse and flopped to the floor. Laying her cheek on the wood beneath her and squinting in the shadows, she began to look for the pin all over again.

    The creaking of the cabin door behind her came as a surprise and the startled girl leaped to her feet. "Oh, Charles!" Sophia sighed when she caught sight of her family's aged servant in the doorway. "I've um... I lost a hairpin, and I think it rolled under the bed."

    "Allow me, Miss," Charles said in his quiet, stoic way before lowering himself to the floor. It wasn't long before the prize was retrieved and handed over to it's smiling owner.

    Sophia turned back to her hand mirror and debated where to place the pin, tucking in strands of blond here and there until Charles cleared his throat behind her. A wave of annoyance washed over the girl. Cold blue eyes shifted to the reflection of her servant in the mirror. "Is there something you want to say, Charles?"

    "Everyone is being called to the deck, Miss," he replied unfazed. "Another ship is approaching."

    "What sort of ship?"

    "Don't know, Miss."

    "Well that's silly. Why would I need to be on deck? Are they setting up some sort of welcome party? Is the musician going to organize a dance or something? Unless the ship is taking passengers back to England, I'm really not interested."

    Charles remained silent as his mistress ranted on and on about being disturbed, about the manners of the Captain, about how much she hated this uncomfortable, unnecessary voyage. The older man had no response, and even if he had, he would have given it the first few times Sophia had given her recital.

    Finally satisfied with her reflection, Sophie tilted her chin upwards and passed through the door Charles held open for her. Still in an angry huff, she positioned herself in the shade of one of the sails and peered into the sea for the other ship. The crew was bustling all around her, and her attention wavered. Sophie always felt a little better watching the sailors work.

  4. #4
    Security of Mem
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    So far he felt the most out of place then all the passengers. Many looked at his original and crafted to personal taste guitar with admiration. They wanted a good story of how he gambled his way to gain the guitar. He never actually truly explained to them the story of the guitar. He couldn't really say to people, I lived a priveleg life, found out I had the talent of the guitar and ran away because I got tired of being exploited.

    Most asked him to play music, which he gladly accepted all though at times he still felt exploited even by a non privileged life. He did on occasions play for the people without anyone asking him of it. Most cases watched as the man with ginger hair stared at the floorboards of wood. He would strum on his guitar like he was now. Other times in absent of a guitar, which was very rare in his case, his finger would play the movements of the guitar.

    They say his finger moved as if they always had a guitar. And those in his previous life would have said, those are the fingers of a guitarist ones that never stop moving. Rorin found himself a quiet type of person, which many saw and looked at with suspicion. They wanted to know what he was hiding. And they all wanted to know why he stayed on deck for the most part.

    Nature had always been a part of his muse and inspiration. The powers and the sounds he influenced in his works. He liked staring at the sky and he liked counting the stars. And he liked how he could stare into a night sky and more and more stars would appear as he became accustomed to the night. Others stared at him with great suspicion for other reasons. Like for his skin colour. Which was a light tan, a sort of mix between that of more white people and more dark people.

    Racial arguments continually came up in the streets, Rorin remembered as he realized people's stares. The captain had ordered everyone on deck. Which for Rorin was no problem he was already here. So he moved his head moving back his ginger hair and stared at one of the wooden poles instead. At least now he looked more intent and focused.

    The deck began to buzz with an energy of people. As they chattered and began to whisper. There was news of a ship bearing flags. Rorin wanted to get up to see himself, but he rather not do that in an already noisy group of people.
    Last edited by Security of Mem; 03-04-2010 at 06:45 AM.

  5. #5

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    "Damn it. I swear I took more than two bottles."

    Staring down the neck of an empty bottle of spiced rum, Jess had a depressed look on her face. She dropped the bottle and let it roll on the floor near the other ones she had collected over time. As she laid sprawl out on her bed, she couldn't but think about captain of the ship. Had he been any other man, she would likely be locked up in a holding cell with scraps to eat. It was the first man who treated her with a shred of respect since her uncle.

    It seemed so odd to Jess that the captain would treat her so kindly. When he found her, and her unwanted company, she assumed it was the brig or overboard. Which both sounded better than the third option, returning to England. After he gave the two stowaways their own rooms, Jess decided it was best not to mess with him to much. He very quickly could change his mind. And he was being way more than hospitable. Jess even was able to get a few bottles of spiced rum ever once and a while.

    Jess stayed in her room most of the trip, slightly embarrassed that she was caught, but mainly because she planned on staying a low profile lest someone know of her father. The only time she ever really left was to get food or rum. Because she rarely left, Jess hardly wore any clothing. She normally walked around her room low cut top and shorts.

    When a knock came to the door, Jess shot up on her bed.

    "Miss, the captain requires you on deck."

    What the hell did he want? Jess slipped on her boots and hid her flintlock pistol in the back of her shorts. She then wrapped a gown around her. "What does he need? Can't he come here? I'm not really in the mood to go up."

    The voice on the far side of the door let out a sigh. "Miss, he said he needs you on deck now. Something about a British ship."

    Jess froze. 'British. No way. He couldn't have found me already.' But she knew otherwise. He father was a powerful and well connected man. If he wanted to find her, he would. Jess started shaking. She let her self calm down before responding and let out a sigh. "OK, fine. I'll be right there."

    Her resolve returned. If her father wanted to try and take her back, she would make it be as a dead body. Jess had no fear of death. But what he might do was far worse. She clicked her boot heel to the ground and watched as the blade popped out. She then pushed the blade back in. 'Let's see who I can take out in the process.'

    When Jess made it to the deck, she noticed that all the guest where there. And it made her think. "Wait what the bloody hell is going on?" If it where her father, she doubted the captain would have brought everyone to watch. But what could it be? Was the ship in trouble? Jess decided she would help the captain to repay his kindness. She walked over to him covered in her blue gown. "What's going on? Can I help?"

  6. #6
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    At the sight of the distressed English ship, Laine already knew his position. He made his way to the rope that held the main masts sails and looked toward his captain. He heard the orders and started working the ropes for the main sails. A thick cockney accent broke through the bustle of work around him.

    "Right 'ere yeh cockney buggah, get yer lazy arse tu the foremast. Gud tah see yer lazy self finally du some work 'round 'ere." Laine said turning to pat the lad on the back with a cheerful smile.

    As he let the sails fall, he moved to the next ones, and attached the ropes back to the mast to keep the canvas loose to catch the most of the air. He looked out towards the bow at the quickly approaching ship. Something seemed wrong, there was no damage to the ship, how could they be in distress. He ran up to Alex as he worked.

    "What say yeh lad, thinkin' this be a fools errand? Somethin' feels off about this one. Just look at the ships condition." Helping the boy finish unfurling the sails, he turned back towards the captain and called out. "Canvas down Cap! Ships goin' full!"

    Laine's hand came down to his sword and looked back out at the ship. "Cap tell yeh any specifics lad?" He asked.

  7. #7
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    Mia was getting used to the smell of the sea, the heat of the sun, and the fact that she didn't have to do anything to get somewhere. For a moment she thought she could enjoy a life on the sea. There was sure to be adventures to be had, but every time she had that thought, Mia thought of the twelve men that had died early on the voyage. She didn't mind risking her life for adventure, but she hated to witness someone else die.

    The alarm bell rang out, Mia remembered what the other sailors had told her. They were to go onto the deck, something was amiss. Mia decided to see what was going on. As she was walking the stairs she ran into a familiar sailor met her on the stairs.

    "The captain wants everyone on the deck, ma'am," the man said briskly.

    Mia looked at him with a bit of curiosity, Why does the captain want everyone on the deck? Seems a wee bit odd.

    "Aye aye," Mia said with a small smile.

    The sun hit Mia's eyes and blinded her for a moment, causing her to bang her shin on the last step. Her bare feet shuffled across the planks to see what was happening. She rolled up the sleeve on the large white button up shirt she had stolen before purchasing her ticket to Port Royal. She'd cut the tan pants she stole to the knees. Most people would just look at her once and think she was a poor tramp, but in reality, only a few of the sailors knew what she used to do for a living.

    Noticing the other ship, with its flags raised in distress. Mia approached the captain, a little nervously. It was obvious he was busy, but Mia's curiosity sometimes caused her to overstep boundaries. She wanted to know what exactly the problem was.

    "Excuse me, captain. What exactly is going on?" her Italian accent still prevalent in her speech.

  8. #8
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    “Miss, the captain requires you on deck. There’s a British ship”

    Margaret felt her heart jump to her throat at the words. “Yes, sir” she politely stammered in response, her voice barely above a whisper. Listening to the footfalls as he moved on to the next door, repeating the message over and over to the other occupants on the ship. Well this was it then, she thought to herself. She knew it was too good to be true. The captain and crew had been fairly decent about finding her and that other girl in the hold, putting them both in cabins on the ship. Not tossing them overboard immediately upon discovery. She had heard the stories. She knew that not all sea going folk were decent. This crew and its captain had actually been very civilized to her, much to her surprise. She knew it wouldn’t last.

    Firmly masking her resolve, she decided that if she was getting tossed over board, or worse, put on a ship back to home, she would be brave, and take whatever punishment was coming to her. Besides, she vowed that she would do whatever she had to not to go back. There would be another opportunity to escape or hide somewhere else. Anything was better than the fate that awaited her back home.

    She placed her best hat on her head, carefully tucking all the loose curls underneath and out of her face. Pulled on her favorite gloves, and smoothed down the ruffles on her skirt, more out of nervousness than any real reason. She headed out the door of the cabin to join the rest of the passengers out on the deck. Her little boots clicking on the stairs as she followed everyone up and outside.

    The sun was a little blinding, at first, having been down in the cabin area of the ship, indoors. Squinting as she tried to adjust to its brightness. She couldn’t stop the smile that formed on her face at the heat of it against her skin. It was comfortable and welcomed. She had missed it the last few days, having been cooped up inside the cabin. Looking around, she noted in surprise that it appeared the whole ship was out on the decks. She couldn’t stop the confusion from showing on her face. What was this? Was the whole ship being evacuated? Surely this wasn’t all for the benefit of dragging her off the ship. Something else was going on, she was sure of it. The thought that perhaps she wasn’t going to be tossed over board like the days refuse, lifting her spirits a little. She tried to catch someone’s eye to ask what was going on, without much success. Everyone on the crew was jumping and running around, much to busy to talk to her. Since no one appeared to be paying her any undo attention she casually moved to stand beside another woman, standing in the shade of the sails. Her smile getting brighter as she breathed a small sigh of relief. For now she was still free.

  9. #9
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    Sean was enjoying the crossing. Something about the crisp sea air and the roll of the waves was very invigorating. It was the start of a new adventure. It was the first step on the list. He was looking forward to purchasing a new home when he arrived in Port Royal and getting his plantation set up. It seemed to him that sugar was the way to go, and since his father owned quite a few ships, the shipping costs would not be a factor. He would make a killing.

    Then all he had to do was find his bride.

    Leaning over the rail on the starboard side of the ship, Sean was enjoying watching the blue water roll beneath the Flourish. He heard the lookout’s warning and raised his head to watch a ship flying British colors get steadily closer. Sean was no seaman and hurried to get out of the way as the Flourish approached the mysterious ship.

    He listened carefully to the captain’s instructions, but as the Flourish dragged the new ship, he wasn’t sure how much help he would be.

    The Queen is back and rocking out.

  10. #10

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    “All of you,” David looked at the passengers on deck. “Prepare to help with any wounded.” David placed the spyglass against his eye and looked at the approaching ship. He could clearly see the bow guns, which were pointed down. As well, he was able to tell that the ship’s gun port doors were closed. He could see that barrels lined the railing of the ship and that there was no one at the wheel. The deck appeared to be absent of all life. As the ship approached, men lined the deck of the flourish with grappling hooks and tow lines, securing the lines. Once the lines were secured, they awaited the Captain’s orders.

    David had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. And if it was a trap of some kind, he didn’t have the men available to repel boarders. But it was an English ship and he was obligated to assist. It only took a few minutes for the Flourish to pull alongside of the ship, And that’s when David yelled out his orders.

    “Everybody hang on to something!” The ship was moving fast and the Flourish would no doubt be pulled hard. “Release hooks” The men did as they were told and threw the hooks at the ship. They caught onto the railings and the ropes quickly went taught. It was at this moment that three things happened which really surprised David.

    First, the sails on the ship dropped, causing it’s speed to be reduced as the Flourish started to drag it. The next two things happened almost simultaneously. The Barrels lining the railings opened as the men hidden inside stood up and placed their rifles on the railing, firing.

    The sound of the gunshots was drowned out by an even louder noise however. The gun port doors on the sides of the ship opened and the cannons fired, slamming cannonballs into the sides of the flourish. The Flourish shook violently as men on it’s deck fell from the gunfire. The pirates aim was good and the shots took out most of the officers and soldiers on deck. Bodies fell over as the shots tore through them. Some falling overboard into the coldness of the ocean. Others falling where they stood, their blood colouring the deck red. One bullet crashed through Sophia's servant's head and another through the merchant Sean's, both leaving bloody gaping maws where the back of their skulls had been.

    The riflemen dropped their rifles and pulled fresh ones from the barrels. Resting them on the railing, they aimed and waited. After a few moments, a voice rang out in the air.

    “Do you surrender?” The voice was that of a woman and had an English accent which was a little rough. The passengers and remaining crew on the deck of the Flourish had taken cover. Under normal circumstances, David would have fought to the last man. But there were the passengers to think about. Perhaps he could negotiate for their safety.

    “We surrender!” John’s heart sank in his chest. “I only ask that you do not harm the passengers.”

    A woman appeared on the deck of the ship as two men placed a plank across the railings. She was wearing a white hat and had blonde hair. A white strap ran diagonally down her chest, across the yellow corset she wore. A cutlass was sheathed on her left side as well as knife on her other She was quite petite, standing at about five foot two, and she motioned to some of the men. They immediately ran across the plank with pistols drawn, and rounded up the remaining crew and passengers, hauling them onto the deck and pushing them to their knees. The woman climbed got onto the plank and crossed onto the Flourish, with two other women behind her. One of the women was blonde and dressed in black. The other was a brunette, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She also had a scar under her left eye. David instantly knew what ship this was. It’s reputation preceded it. That and the Jolly Roger which had now taken the place of the English flag which had been flying before. It had a red skull on it and two roses were crossed beneath it. This was the Murderess. As the woman approached, David began to speak.

    “Might I assume that I am addressing Anyssa Finch, fist mate on the Murderess?”

    “You are indeed Captain West,” Anyssa smiled and she drew her cutlass.

    “Take whatever you want. Just spare the lives of the passengers and crew.” David spoke calmly.

    “There is only one thing I want,” Anyssa smiled and glared up at him. “You have in your possession a piece of a map. I want it.”

    “I don’t know what you are talking about.” David stared directly into her eyes.

    “Pity,” Anyssa frowned and raised her hand. Shots rang out and the rest of the crew fell, save Alex and Laine. “How about now?” Anyssa smiled evilly at David.

    “I can’t give it to you,” David had lowered his voice to a whisper. “You don’t know what it leads to.”

    “Oh I have pretty good idea.” Anyssa leered at David. “Give it to me now.”

    “No,” David replied sternly.

    “You‘re not making this easy you know.” Anyssa said, rage burning in her eyes.

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