Maiden Voyage -Rebooted-

[Captain Dusk Rose]

Tortuga, 1740

Humidity settled on the small, stinking port of Tortuga. Men slumped on barrels of rum, hats tipped over their eyes against the sun, wenches and whores giggled and called out, fire fights split through the streets.

Music poured from a crowded tavern. Inside, the clean sword of a navy officer glistened threateningly at a bar goers' throat.
"Don't you dare touch me. If you so much as look at me that way again I will kill you." The young privateer holding the sword threatened with a disdainful expression.
"Baah, but you've got sucha pre'y face for'a boy~" A seedy looking man laughed, reaching out with grubby fingers.
"Idiot!" The privateer slammed the butt of their sword into the man's hand and kicked him in the groin. Huffing as the man fell to his knees.
"If I have to be a bloody pirate, I might as well be open about being a bloody girl then!" The woman glowered, not caring that she turned a few lusty heads, she'd castrate the lot of them. All in all, she wasn't feeling too optimistic about recruiting new crew members in this wretched port. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers.

She kicked the man one more time for good measure and pressed on.

[Lord Redcoat]

At a table in the far, though well-lit corner, another good-looking youth was deep in her cups. A pewter flagon stood upright in front of her, frothing with grog. Beside her, sat another youth, though his eyes were glassy and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his flagon – his empty flagon.
She scowled, smacked the table and shoved her tankard in front of him. His eyes lit up.

Aside from the fact she was in her late teens, early twenties, the youth beside her perhaps being of an age, or a year or two younger, there was little distinctive about her – beyond her tricorn hat. It held a feathered plume, and was well-oiled leather. Her jacket was the same hue, cut from the same hide, and her white shirt was silk, lace spilling at the cuffs and collar. The girl – young woman – was blonde, with porcelain skin and clear blue eyes, eyes that had seen more than most of her age and her gaze was cutting and sharp. That her face was still fair after being subjected to the elements suggested that perhaps she was not a veteran sailor, and yet, she held herself with one who was not at all naïve in her surroundings.
Her companion, by contrast, didn’t seem very self aware at all. What marked him out was his dark hair, almost equally fair skin, though his seemed less warm and weather-beaten to her cream, and the long, ruined red coat he wore. Rugged, was what it was. What had once been part of a uniform was now little more than rags – at least the colour was. It was a long coat, and so washed out no one had ever considered him a deserter or even part of the Royal Navy. That his once white trousers and shirt were now a delightful creamy-brown didn't help either. Just off beige, not quite tan, she'd seen beggars wear better. Grog stained it, amongst other things.

Both were armed. Her with a cutlass, him with a straight sabre. She wore a brace of pistols across her chest, two more on either hip, and daggers, dirks and throwing knives in every nook, crevice and cranny. There was even one in her hat.

She slapped the youth on the back again. “Wake up,” she hissed, gathering up the cards on the table in front of her. She pocketed a pair of dice with them. No purse could be seen, but that was hardly surprising. “We’ve company.”

Eyeing the newcomer from the other end of the tavern, she had noticed the ‘green’ captain almost instantly. Somehow, the newcomer just didn’t fit in, and Tod was always watchful for that. She expected the newcomer would end up dead soon, just like those from the merchantman she had been on… the poor buggers. She sighed and shook her head when the young man didn’t react. Why she had dragged him from the shore, instead of letting the sea take him… well, he was hers now, and having him around was useful. Even if he couldn’t remember a damn thing. She beckoned to a serving wench, “More grog,” she deposited a copper in the woman’s hand, rather than down her neckline – cleavage – and received an appreciative nod. It wasn’t easy being a woman sometimes.

[Echoe]

Jonathan sat at the bar, aware of the furious woman nearby. His curiosity was peaked, but he wasn't that interested. He had been beat up enough for one night. His torn clothes and bloody lip were enough damage. He might even have a tooth missing now. Bloody fools... Enough was enough! he was tired of getting jumped in the streets by bastards trying to steal his non-existent money. He was only allowed 'free' alcohol here because he helped care for the barkeepers daughter. She was almost well again and his services no longer needed, but he worried about her. This town was a scary place to be a young woman.

So much shit in the world and not enough shovels... He took another long swig of his drink.

[Randomman]

An odd pair walked past a bar into a cake shop. The cake seller gave the strangers a squinted look as he did not believe he had seen such odd customers before.

The man was smiling cheerfully with cake upon his wild curly brown hair. A cake sat upon his shoulder as waved a bamboo sword in the air.

"Cake for me! Cake for you~!!!"

The man clad in cake sang as peered at the tasty looking baked goodies behind their glass display.

"Their all fresh."

The cake seller said as he eyed the armed wooden swordsman. The mans companion was dressed in a knights looking army. The helmet was round and the only thing you could tell about the armored customer was it's golden eyes that seemed to shine out before you. Besides not being able to see the armored beings face it had a blunderbuss strapped over it's shoulder.

Great a man out his mind and someone of little words. Gotta love Tortuga.

The cake seller thought as he kept his sockets glued to this suspicious two-and their arms.

[Captain Dusk Rose]

Soon one man down became three at her back, and before she knew it the young Captain found herself in the middle of a bar fight, and it seemed to be the entirety of Tortuga against herself. Dusk Rose brought her knee into one thug's stomach, her elbow into another, but she was having trouble freeing her sword enough to use with the forest of cutlasses before her. Not exactly according to plan...

Meanwhile, Tod yawned, not at all impressed and feigning disinterest. Feigning however, did not mean she wasn't interested, only she wasn't showing it - and she was very good at masking her intentions. So she idly rolled her die and waited for the fight to be over. Fights broke out all the time.

The youth beside her, however, spluttered and choked on the flagon.
"It's grog, boy," Tod growled under her breath, "A tot or two more of rum than what ye just had. Drink it and quit yer coughing."
He nodded, still looking dazed.
Tod's eyes drifted back over to the fight...
Damn limes... and nutmeg.

Dusk finally emerged from all of the fighting. Spat out like driftwood from a wave, her coat stained in several more places and looking very displeased. She made her way behind the crowd of squabbling pirates and flopped into the nearest open chair, at the same table as a flamboyantly dressed woman and a drunk companion. She scanned them wearily in one sweeping glance before ordering rum for herself.

"Table's taken," Tod declared to the newcomer, "An' it'll cost ye ta sit 'ere. Round fer us all," she nodded firmly, her eyes locked on Dusk's. Now it was time to see how well the newcomer could handle etiquette - Tod style. Probably not the best way to start, but she'd just handed over her grog to her companion, and hers had a few more shots of rum than his watered-down grog ever had.

Dusk met her gaze with out blinking, staring for a heartbeat before waving over the serving wench and complying. She didn't feel all that generous, but at least this woman looked half healthy, maybe she could convince her to join her crew. She had a feeling she might be a stubborn one to recruit, something in her intense gaze, but she couldn't help but respect her, at least a little.

Tod nodded slightly, somewhat surprised the newcomer had obeyed, then shrugged inwardly; this 'person' was green after all, it seemed.
"So, what's yer name, or will ye just sit there in silence?" Tod asked after a moment. "This 'ere's Red," she gestured to the young man, and then a thumb at herself, "An' I's Tod."

Dusk took a long swig of her rum, listening to the woman introduce herself, and her young companion.
"Captain Dusk Rose." She nodded, and lifted her mug slightly. She said Captain with some emphasis, and in a tone that made it sound as though she was one familiar with giving orders.

"Yer ship be...?" Tod didn't seem impressed, but she nodded anyway. Red seemed too staggered by his drink and entered a bout of coughing, to which Tod pummelled his pain; the young man wheezed painfully, but nodded his gratitude, and went straight back to sipping his vile brew.

"The Midnight Hangman." She answered with pride, straightening a little.
"We made port just this morning. She's got many years under her belt, but you'll not see a finer vessel anywhere near this wretched island."

"Maybe so," Tod yawned and shrugged, "What do I care?"
She gestured towards the barmaid, her flagon empty, "More rum."

"You should, you don't seem to have a ship of your own now do you?" Dusk straightened her jacket with a movement, asking for another herself.

"What makes ye say that?" Tod looked at her curiously, then laughed, "Aye, and what makes ye think I nay have me own boat, 'cap't'?"

"I've been following the comings and goings of all the ships at this pathetic port all day. And besides that, you wouldn't have time to be idling away here, with your dice."

"What makes you think my ship's at port?" Growing slightly irritated, Tod gestured with a wave of her forearm, "What be it ye want, Cap't Rose?"

Dusk took another sip of rum calmly. "Well, you're young," She swung her chair around and sat on it backward.
"You look healthy enough. Your young lover there as well. I could use you."

"Hah!" Tod rolled her eyes and sneered, "O roilly?" Downing her rum in one - quite an impressive feat - she waved for another flagon. She hadn't spilt a drop, yet her eyes held a deadly awareness. Despite her body language and words, everything about her was honed to sharpness. "An' how old are ye? Twenty-five less than, I'll wager."
She neither confirmed nor denied the accusation of Red being her lover; Red however, sank further into his tankard and passed out on the table - or seemed to.

"That's not important. What is important, is how valuable you could prove to my crew. How much will you go for?" She glanced at her over her mug.

"I ain't interested," Tod flexed her fingers, and leaned back, yawning slightly, then interlacing her fingers and putting them behind her hat, "I ain't no boy ta be pressganged or enslaved. Go find another lackey, 'cap't'."
On the table, Tod's dice lay still.

"I see, no hope of changing your mind aye?" She raised her eyebrows, taking another gulp of rum and letting her eyes fall to the dice on the table.
"How about letting fate decide for you? Unless you're afraid of course, I wouldn't blame you. How would your poor Reddykins survive on a harsh pirate ship?" She laughed bitterly.

Tod laughed, and there was nothing warm in it, though there was amusement mixed in with the bitterness, "Yer a fool if ye think I'd fall fer that." Then she eyed Dusk anew, "Though yer brave fer tryin'," her eyes were sharper than before, "ye should do yer research, cap't. Ain't no one who beats me with me own die."
Then she shrugged and leaned back, "But I ain't interested in yer hand..." A pause, "Ye've a first mate? Ye convince me yer worth it, and I'm yer mate. An'..." she licked her lips, "Yer cap't, so ye take a cut of all pillage, but I take half of what ye make, which be what a tenth of the crew take times five, aye? This 'ere," she patted the slumbering Red almost affectionately, "get twice as much an' he be answerable ta nay one but me, an' ye, aye? Ye'll nay be havin' us thrown ov'r board, nor marooned, nay keelhauled, but ye drop us off at port - a safe port if we happen ta disagree. Yer word, an' yer blood."
Tod smiled, and again, it wasn't pleasant, "Those're me terms, but 'ere's nay ta place to speak o' such things."

Dusk eyed her again, she was so fiery. Despite her insolence, she couldn't help but feel that she wanted her at her side.
"I'll think about it."

"Weoll, they be me terms," Tod paused, then smirked, "Good luck findin' anyone else willin' ta help ye in this pissdung 'ole." Then she rose to her feet with a grace that belied the amount she had just drank, and waited to see if Dusk would do the same...

"Where are you going? Your imaginary ship?"

Tod laughed, then leaned in close, a dagger appearing in her hand - and at Dusk's throat. Throatily, she murmured, "Ye've made a mistake, cap't..." Then before Dusk could react, Tod's lips were on hers, her free hand shooting out to grab the back of Dusk's head and a handful of hair, as her mouth opened noisily...


((Posted with the Colin))

[Lord Redcoat]

Dusk's eyes widened, her hand falling on her sword too late to stop her. Color burned onto her cheeks.

Tod didn't stop for a meek kiss either, but continued to kiss her soundly, with both the firmness and tenderness of a lover, yet there was more of a hint of defiance. She pulled back a little, finally, smiled and then laid a gentle kiss on Dusk's still open lips, as if inviting her to kiss her more.

"You insolent...!" Dusk breathed, her face completely flushed; a mingling of shock, outrage and confusion that vividly showed her youth.

Tod smirked, "First mate, an... cabin gal, aye?" her eyes twinkled, but her blade remained at Dusk's throat. Then lustfully, she leaned forwards and kissed her lips again, this time as if sealing a bargain, "Shh," she soothed, "ye'll nay repeat yer mistake again..."
And Tod ruffled Dusk's hair... ...just in time for Red's eyes to open, bulge, and be rubbed several times, and stare down at the grog in the flagon...

"Be on the Hangman at sunrise. We leave as soon as she has a full compliment." Dusk answered quietly, defiant and defeated in the same breath. She was beginning to wonder why she'd even bothered to get up at all today, and was beginning to grasp an idea of the trouble she was in.

Tod clapped her new captain's shoulder encouragingly, "Aye, cap't." Then she frowned, "Ye act as if ye've never been kissed before..."
Red was still staring with eyes wide enough to fall out.

"Oh shut it." Dusk downed the rest of her rum, and the rest of Red's drink.


By now, she had withdraw the dagger back into her sleeve. Eyeing Dusk almost sympathetically, she murmured, "Twas only a kiss... many would've demanded more."
Red glared at his new captain, (still having no idea what had just passed), "That's my drink!" he said, speaking for the first time, in clear, defined British accents.
Was their captain blushing?
It was hard to tell with the flagon in the way...

Tod was continuing to eye Dusk, and murmured under her breath - just loud enough to reach Dusk, and set Red's ears aflame, as well as his cheeks and the rest of him, "Ye ain't a ...maiden, are ye? A... virgin? One of them vestal sorts..."

Dusk's eyebrows shot up, and her face darkened even more behind her mug, but she refused to acknowledge that she had heard Tod at all. She tipped the cup, only to realize it was long out of rum and she was forced to sit it down. "MORE RUM!"

Tod burst out laughing, almost lost her balance and clapped Dusk on the shoulder so hard, they both almost toppled over. Then she leaned in close and whispered, "Aye, we'll sort that one out..." it was a conspiratorial wink.

Red wasn't sure whether he wanted to sink into the floor or watch. He hadn't heard the words, but he had seen Tod lean in close, her breath warm against Dusk's ear...
Fortunately, the rum arrived - in good order. Lots of it.

[Randomman]

"Please stop..."

The cake seller was on the verge of tears as the man continued to defile the sweets he cooked, baked and prepared all morning.

"No no, no! This one just wont do!"

The random man shook his head disappointly as he took off another cake from his head only to set upon another at the cake sellers dismay.

"Do you have anything a little bolder?"

The lunatics partner stood still and silent as a suit of armor on display. The only change in the strangers position was that it was now cradling its big gun as it watched the display between the two men.

"Rohan."

A gentle and relaxing voice spoke through that armored figure like a calm rivers spring.

The beautiful voice of a little girl?

The cake seller curiosity of what exactly was under all that armor grew.

"A want something that says I own this port!"

The cake seller was brought back to his own personal hell as the vulgar man was still set upon having one of his cakes for a hat.

"My cakes.."

The cake seller nursed his head as he was still recovering from that man using his other sweets to cover and fashion his articles of clothing.

"Rohan."

That gentle and lovely voice repeated the mans name. If it wasn't for the blunderbuss in the figures hand. The cake seller would have to say the voice belonged to an angel. or the closest thing to an angel Tortuga would ever see...

"Hm maybe I'll just stick with my hat for now. I did get enough clothing and the rest can be used as food stuff..."

The random man known as Rohan eyes bulged with excitement at the sight of a passing merchant boy and his pack animal.

"By the cake! It's a llama Big Gun!"

With a crash through the cake shop owners window. That cake clad scoundrel of a pirate raced off with a big ol' sack of cake to harass the poor aspiring young merchant and his llama yelling.

"Stop! You there! You want to be my cake brother!?"

The armored gun carrying companion of the mad man apologized to the cake selling store owner and left behind a bag of Spanish gold and a few blood red ruby rings before exiting his store in pursuit of the cake pirate.

The store owner sighed as his cake shop floor lay with broken glass and cake crumbs.

"At least their gone."

But as the man started cleaning up his shop. His poor mind pondered on what a cake brother was and why would anyone ask a llama about becoming one?

[Echoe]

The bartender wandered over to Jonathan and tapped the surface in front of him lightly, pointing at the... awkward fight.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing they don't know each other," He grumbled to his friend. "But that's quite a way to greet a stranger. Intimidation, Thomas?" He turned back to his drink, a slight smile on his face.

Thomas shrugged as he topped off Jonathans drink. "Judgin' by her reaction? Yeh. Prolly even have history. Speakin' of history," He began cleaning a mug. "My li'l Lynn tells me you plannin' to leave. Gave her the last of her medication and ordered bedrest for two more weeks. Such a shame." He grinned, showing a few of his crooked teeth. "I was all ready to hand her off to you."

Jonathan laughed wearily. "Aha, that's a good one. You know Lynndaya doesn't want me. I'd have to go out of my way to get her to stop thinking about that 'prince' she met in 'disguise'. She's been swept off her feet by a homeless snake charmer, friend."

Thomas sighed. "Don't I know it."

[Lord Redcoat]

"So," Tod queried, after Dusk's third flagon, "Where be we sailin' to an' why, cap't?" It seemed she had agreed without knowing a destination and was only asking out of curiosity, as if to make smalltalk rather than any true desire to know.
Red meanwhile continued to sip the rum Tod had given him, wondering how he had ended up in this situation...

"It doesn't matter, I just need to keep moving." Their new Captain replied, scanning the crowd.

"Ah..." Tod paused, "so you don't know where we're going next?" She squinted, "Yer nay a trader, perchance, are ye?"

"Not exactly." She examined the other end of the bar as she spoke before turning back to her drink. Her mannerisms betraying an agitation, like someone who expected to be caught in the wrong at any moment.

"Then uh, what is it we do exactly?" Tod seemed to be acting as dim as her hair colour suggested, or perhaps she was simply seeing how much she could get out of Dusk. Perhaps extra 'danger-pay'?

"Well, when we happen upon a ship of particular colors..." She shrugged a little, escaping to her drink, afraid of saying too much in the crowded tavern.

"Oh! A privateer," Tod nodded and leaned in conspiratorily, "Who's we fighting? Everyone?"
She winked at Dusk.

"er...at the moment?"

Tod grinned.

[Echoe]

Jonathan sighed and tossed back the last of his drink. "Well friend, I'd best look for a captain that will let me board in exchange for my services."

"Good luck. Most captains here be looking for a womans services, not a mans."

Jonathan laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks." He stood and quickly melted into the crowd of men shouting for grog or the young ladies to show them their 'booty'. Thomas picked up the empty mug to clean it, but found that it was not actually empty. In fact, it was rather heavy. Gold coins filled it half-full and Thomas' eyes widened. He quickly looked up to try and find Jonathan, but he was gone.

[Randomman]

"-and that's how I found my way to Tutu."

Rohan finished telling his latest epic adventure as he leaned his head back on the soft fur of the the albino Llama.

"I must admit my cake brother you have the most odd sense of humor about you. I don't suppose you will ever reveal the shampoo you use to me?"

The llama nuzzled his nose against the relaxing cake pirate.

"Aye to true. You certainly have a way with words my brother."

He fished out another pastry treat from the cake shop from his bag.

"You are one of unrivaled wit, class, and mystery my brother!"

Rohan held out the desert in his open hand as the llama scarfed it down.

"Hm perhaps I can implore you secret of you're breath and dental care?

The llama smacked at his lips as his treats taste slowly dissipated as he looked out upon the drunkenly busy coming and going of people on Tortugas cabbage and waste covered roads. There where a few odd and curious looks at the random man resting on albino llama. But no one really thought anything of more of it than the more common sight of a sleeping drunker passed out on the swine sometimes seen by the pubs.

The more peculiar sight would be the knight like figure who had gained the curiosity and admiration of a small band of begging orphans who longed to tell them the large arm wielder adventures and if they could be join the silent warriors ship. It was not long till the mysterious and seldom speaking armored one had attracted the advances of the brothel as well.