The Doctor

:: Jacks eyes open for a moment, and he speaks in heavy breaths :: You scabrous dogs! Ye'll ne'er take the Fortunato away from me! It's mine! I'll die... before... ye... :: and conciousness slips from him, to be swallowed by dreams and madness ::

:: Jack wanders back to the quarterdeck an implores of the Quartermaster...:: Sir, My leg seems in want of attention, as it has for the past four days, sir. May I seek the Surgeons ministries, sir? :: Jack totters, and collapses on the deck ::

:: Jack hears the summonse of the Quartermaster, and climbs the stairs to the quarterdeck presently :: Aye, sir! Reporting as ordered, sir! :: Blood soaks the unattended wound at his knee, but he seems oblivious to it all... ::

:: Jack feels the tender touch of Kendra's hand on his shoulder, and he turns abruptly - his mood is immediately softened by her gaze :: I will be fine, miss. It's but one of my many passing madnesses. :: he laughes strangely :: All will be well. I swear to you, all will be well, and very soon. Thank you for your concern, and your most lovely visage. It does make my heart skip... :: Jack tips his head and regards the entire ship from stem to stern, wheels on his heel, and resumes his duties ::

:: Jack's fractured memory begins to tease him again, as it has so many times before. The point of a cutlass in his side, the cold metallic sensation of a pistol's muzzle pressed to the base of his skull... Voices, like demons taunting him - "Here ye be, Cap'n. Back to yer quarters, dear sir. We'll stand ready as ye get yer sea chest in order, Ol' Jack. A long, lonely voyage awaits ye, ye daft bastard! Oh, forgive me, Captain, sir!" He snaps back from this unwanted, demanding memory (the ibad, the Moors call it), and he finds himself leaning agains the gunwale. He stares into the churning water below, and fights the urge to cast himself into it, and be done with all his pain and uncertainty once and for all. Nothing but calm, cold sleep, beckoning to him.... :: That would be the easy way, now wouldn't it, ye daft bastard? Fill yer lungs with cold water, and let it drag ye down to oblivion? No. Not now, and not for a long time to come. I'll face what's chasing me. Otherwise, it'll just climb over my back like it did again, today... :: He slams his fist down onto the gunwale, and turns his attention back to the Watch Dog, and to duty ::

:: Jack stands straight and nods formally to the Quartermaster :: Aye, sir. I understand, and I dutifully await judgement due me. I'll return to my normal duties until the outcome is decided. :: He turns and leaves the quarterdeck, and he feels his jaw tighten at the thought of formal reprimand ::

David Cordingly Thank you! Someone has borrowed my copy, and the tequila I'm currently enjoying has muddled my memory.

:: As Jack walks past the quarterdeck, he cannot help but overhear the conversation between the Quartermaster and Master Gunner. His memory is fired, and he scurries to the top of the stairs :: Begging your pardon, Mr. Lasseter. Mr. Youngblood here is correct. I did in fact muster the barge crew to quarters and order them to arm themselves for boarding actions. Given the blow I took from the shattered barrel, I must have forgotten that part of the action until his words sparked my recollection. An unfortunate and purely unintentional oversight on my part, and I accept whatever punishment the Quartermaster deems appropriate, sir.

Spitwads aside - and I'm an excellent mark, Ciaran, so mind yourself! - some excellent books are "Under the Black Flag" by Richard Cordingly, and "Broadsides! The Age of Fighting Sail" by Nathan Miller. Anything by Richard Zacks is good to have, and a fun read. Especially his work "Pirate Hunter: the True Story of Captain Kidd". :)

New Smyrna Beach (I spent so many Summers there!)

The opening of the Minnesota Renaissance Festival was today. I did the "unthinkable" and wore my new boots, not broken in by traditional standards, for 8 hours straight on uneven terrain. And that's with people telling me I wasn't swaggering and staggering enough. No blisters, no bruising, no abnormal fatigue. It's like I've owned them for years. In short, I will never buy from any other boot maker but Competetive Attitude Boots, whether it's for riding or whatever. A little spendy, but more than worth it. And I picked up the coolest leather tankard from Excalibur Leather (same folks who made my incredibly comfortable hat). It's got a pliable high-temperature epoxy coating on the inside, so you can fill it with rum or ale in the evening, rinse it out, and drink your coffee out of it the next morning. Plus, it's got the Calico Jack embossed on the outside. The lady behind the counter has used the same one for five years, and you can tell by the way the leather has been worn smooth at the top of the handle that she's not exaggerating. Another excellent vendor of fine leather goods. I had a discussion with the King, after I'd downed a few Guinnesses. He informed me that piracy was not condoned in his kingdom, and he would see to it that anyone caught in the act of piracy would be hung. I told him that if he were so inclined as to let me spend 15 minutes with the Queen, she would glady tell him that I'm already nicely hung, so he needn't bother. I also asked him if he had any plans of stringing up his privateers, since privateering is little more than state sponsored piracy. I informed him that I, too, am for hire. Better to employ me than encounter me (wink, wink, nudge nudge, say no more). So we shared a few laughs and parted company. He then loudly proclaimed that "Should you be caught commiting any act of piracy..." To which I cut him off and replied "Yes, yes, Your Highnifigance. You'll ensure that I'm well hung. How generous you are!" At that point, the Queen completely lost it. It was great! There were a lot of other people there dressed in pirate garb, but little kids and women were seeking me out for pictures and casual conversation. It was one hell of a lot of fun. Oh, and the "Perfect Pirate" contest was a bust. It was for little kids only. One of the fun things was that I was mistaken for a Faire entertainer on several ocassions, even by Faire employees. People seemed to think that my exchange with the King was staged, and I was sought out by many a tricycle motor and lovely women alike that wanted to talk to or have their picture taken with "Cap'n Jack". We'll see if my popularity holds out in subsequent weekends. I hope so... :) Now if I can just get my kitten to quit trying to chew on my hair extensions, I'll be a lot happier.

To be precise, it's the song "Sweet Transvestite".

:: Upon getting word that Christine is found and not seriously injured, Jack goes on about his duties. He goes below to the Armoury to perform the daily arms inventory, placing Christine's knife on a small shelf until she is released by the surgeon. He quietly sings a tune as he works... :: I love goin' swimmin' with bowlegged women, and swim between their legs...

cutting the cheese

nap time

picking your locks

:: Jack lets Diego's suggestion sink in for a moment :: We should take it up with the Quartermaster, to be sure... but I see no ill effects of supplementing the lookouts with a pistol for signalling in case the captain of the watch is out of earshot. I would still like to reserve the option of being able to muster the crew to quarters without tipping our hand to the enemy, in the hope that he may become too brazen and we can greet him more warmly than he's ready for. :: Jack sips his coffee, and makes a face at the acrid flavour :: Bloody... this coffee's been on the fire for hours! Something's amiss with Christine. Mr. Morgan! Be so kind as to go below to ship's stores and see if Miss Christine is indisposed, would you? I can tell you now, Monsignor, that something other than hunger is gnawing at my gut over this.

Wells Fargo

Rough Justice - The Rolling Stones

whips

Dominatrix

:: Jack emerges topside, making mental notes of the tasks that need to be accomplished today. As he passes the barge, he stops and critically studies the boats state. He digs in his pocket and produces a tarnished silver Spanish real and attempt to bounce it off the tarpaulin covering the barge. The coin bounces a good metre and a half into the morning air. He catches the coin and puts it back in his pocket and smiles to himself :: Good morning, Rummy and Monsignor Diego! A fine morning it is. I feel a change in the wind for the better, I do. Winds I pray that will turn our Captain's strength for the better as well. :: He greets his crewmates as the watch is changed, and he head to the galley for a bit of food and coffee. He sees that food has been prepared, but the cheery melodies usually accompanying the day's meals are strangely absent :: Christine? Halloo? Oi! Anyone seen Christine about? :: No one seems to have seen her, but Jack is certain she must be below decks planning the next glorious meal. He helps himself to some food and coffee. As he turns to go back topside, he notices a glint of steel on the decking near the pantry. Jack recognizes it as Christine's personal dagger :: Now, that's not right... She's not the sloppy type. :: He retrieves the knife and returns topside to seek out Monsignor Diego :: Monsignor, have you seen Christine? She's not in the galley, and I found her dagger on the deck. From some fresh scarring of the boards, it looks as if it were dropped.

fine Corinthian leather

:: Jack sets about his new duties that have been added to his old ones. He sets about collecting weapons from the crew and making certain they are returned to the Armoury. He looks briefly for the new crewmember, but cannot locate her at present. He puts out word to the current watch that if they see her, she is to report to me immediately with all weapons she posesses. On one of his trips to the main deck, Jack notices that the barge has only been haphazardly stowed :: Barge crew! To stations, on the doubletime! :: Jack waits for the barge crew to muster, and he asks one of the sailors at random if they notice anything amiss. The crewman hesitantly replies "It's a mess, sir." Jack asks why it is such, and the crewman stammers "I don't know, sir. I guess we was distracted, what with the battle and all..." :: Distracted? Rattled by a little shooting, were we? Your breeches seem unsoiled, sir, so it couldn't have been that traumatic. Distracted, my sister's black cat's arse! Clean this mess up, ye gobs! And if I can't bounce a silver Spanish real off that tarpaulin when you're finished, you'll strip it down and do it over until I can, savvy?! You have half the glass to accomplish this feat, so I would suggest you get started. :: Jack stomps off the the Armoury, still fuming mad ::

:: Jack takes the ring of keys from Mr. Lasseter, and fights off a look of complete surprise. He pulls himself up a little straighter before teh Quartermaster :: Aye, sir! And thank you. You'll not be disappointed, I assure you. If ye have a current inventory of the Armoury, it would be most helpful. When you can get to it, of course. I'll make certain to procure the arms from our newest crewmate and add them to the inventory. As for a last name, sir... I'm certain I had one at some point. Thanks to a bit of misfortune a few years ago, I have no recollection of what it might have been. They've been calling me "Mad Jack" or just plain "Jack" ever since my rescue. Again, thank you, sir. I'll be back to my duties straight away. :: He begins to turn, then stops :: Captain William, sir... Any news?