Dorian Lasseter

*Hangs another piniata from the overhead * Alright... who'll have a go... *Gets grabbed and pulled into the bunnyhop line* Lordy me! Ha Haaaa!!!

Glad to be in out of the rain and in the warmth of Miss O’Treasaigh’s offices, Dorian listened to what the Doctor had to say about the Master-at-Arms and was gladdened that the man was awake and on the mend. He briefly greeted her friend the Apothocary, Miss Kildare, and was ‘greeted’ by a wee hissing cat in her arms. Dorian bowed out into the other room where Mister PEW was accommodated and greeted the man. “Mister Pew… it gives me much joy to see you upright and lucid. Miss O’Treasaigh, er, Doctor O’Treasaigh tells me you are recovering well… “ Preston gave Dorian a look and smiled. “Aye Cap’n I do feel more m’self now, can’t wait ta get back aboard ship.” Aye…. Soon… Not just yet…. Soon…. And… no… never mind…” Preston gave Dorian a questioning look and he waved it away. The Master-at-Arms knew Captain Lasseter would indulge him when he was ready. Instead he told the recovering man of the goings on while he was convalesced in the town. They talked of many things and the hours passed, both the women joined them for short visits, and finally the meal time arrived. Dorian made to leave, but was coerced to stay and join them for the evening meal. Seven Bells of the Afternoon Watch

He walked against the wind for a time and found haven from it every chance he got. Two blocks seemed two miles in this weather, but the Captain made headway against it as best he could and soon arrived at the door of the Surgery. He knocked thrice and waited for an answer, hoping it would be quite soon.

Captain Lasseter walks in with a bag over his shoulder. He looks about the Kate and sees everyone waiting for something. He spies Syren over there and smiles. "I see I'm not late fer th' party, am I?" He walks to the bar and orders up a gin for a change of pace. "Slainte, Syren! All th' best on yer natal day!"

Captain Lasseter had lingered in the ordinary for a time, hoping the weather might lighten so he might get to the Surgeon’s looking not so much a drowned rat. He drank a cordial to warm himself after a fine hot meal of fresh fish and ale. He walked to the door and unlatched it to look out and was near knocked over by the force of wind and rain. Shouldering the door, he shoved it shut and stood a moment before turning away, draining his glass and walking back to his table. He rummaged in his pockets and found his one short pipe and a pouch of tobacco. “One pipe full and no more, I cannot delay much longer in my visit.” He packed the bowl and got a taper to light it and slowly puffed away, listening to the storm pound away. He spent the next hour in a haze of tobacco smoke and a haze of thoughts. He wondered how Preston was doing, how the ships were weathering the storm, How William was doing, if he’d gotten to the prison to garner crew, how Mister Alder was doing with his secret project, and other thoughts of people and places. The tobacco was finished and Dorian was resolved to make his way to visit the ailing Master-at-Arms. He tapped the ash out of his pipe and returned it to his pocket, fixed his hat on his head and braced himself as he opened the door. Wind whipped past him as he crossed the thresh hold and hauled the door shut behind him. He nearly lost his hat to the elements, but deftly grabbed it as it lifted off his head. He clenched his jaw and hunched his shoulders as he was pelted by the large drops of rain. Off he went the last two blocks to the Surgery of Miss Maeve O’Treasaigh. Four Bells of the Afternoon Watch

Dorian found it to be useless to hurry through the rains. Instead he chose to pick his way slowly by continuing to make short trips between shops. This proved to be both good and bad, as each time he stopped into a shop, he ended up looking about and finding some item he might like to purchase. He restrained himself from purchasing large items, but small wares that might fit into pockets. His progress was very slow, and his stomach protested at the hour. Asking the proprietor of a shop where the closest ordinary was, he made his way there for a meal.

An evening in the chatrooms anyone?

LOL Aye Patrick, love that! Mice on a cracker, Mice with asparagus, etc... Great movie actually... Here's a song.... "Man! I feel like a ratty!" [sung to "Man! I feel like a woman!" by Shania Twain] <A group of gorgeous female ratties stand poised with guitars. Dapper (wearing a top hat) swaggers up to the microphone> I'm going out tonight -- I'm feelin' alright Gonna let it all hang out Wanna make some strife -- perhaps get me a wife Yeah I wanna squeak and flout No inhibitions -- make no conditions Get a little out of line I aint gonna act tame-pet-edly correct I only wanna have a good time The best thing about being a ratty Is the prerogative to have a little fun Go totally crazy -- no time to be lazy Pounce on Fudge, hide under the rug Woah oh oh oh Sneak and tease, yeah -- stash all the peas, yeah Get in Mum's hair -- climb where I dare Woah oh oh oh I wanna be free to feel the way I feel... Man! I feel like a ratty! <female back-ups> Do do do do do do <dancing> The cage needs a break -- tonight we're gonna take The chance to get out on the town We need lots to drink -- we're gonna make a stink We're gonna let our balls hang down The best thing about being a ratty Is the prerogative to pee on everything Leave a proud scent trail -- paint with my own tail On Dad's shirt, on Mum's skirt Woah oh oh oh On the TV remote, yeah -- where others will note, yeah Pee on the chair -- pee where I dare Woah oh oh oh I wanna be free to feel the way I feel... Man! I feel like a ratty! <female back-ups> Do do do do do do <dancing> <music builds up to the finale> The best thing about being a ratty Is the prerogative to have a little chew Enjoy the great caper -- shred toilet paper Chew mouse cords, floorboards Woah oh oh oh Carpet and blocks, yeah -- feet in their socks, yeah Gnaw on the chair -- gnaw what I dare Woah oh oh oh I wanna be free to feel the way I feel... Man! I feel like a ratty! <female back-ups> Do do do do do do <dancing> I get totally crazy Can you feel it Come and join in the mischief Man! I feel like a ratty! Stolen off of; http://www.dapper.com.au/songs.htm

Just before Eight Bells of the Forenoon Watch Even with the weather pending, Dorian could not make haste to the Surgeon’s residence. Between running into crewmen returning to the docks for the change of watch, and stopping into some shops along the way just to take refuge from the growing winds. He knew he would be too late. He knew he would not make it his destination without getting a soaking. His recent wounded temple throbbed, telling him the storm would be upon the town at any moment. His ache was right. A great bolt of lightening, followed by a thunderclap announced the deluge of rain. The Captain had left the shelter of one shop and was headed diagonally across a street when the downpour fell from above. It actually stopped him in his tracks, it hit so hard, so fast. Grabbing the brim of his hat he stepped lively, trying to avoid the rapidly forming puddles and streams in the streets.

As in right now...

Well... Welcome aboard... William RedWake is who you'll need to contact. As for the group, the Mercury camp will be new this year at PIP, it's still just on paper, never been done as of yet. William is just a grand organizer and everyone else is just grand as well...

That Image is inside old Fort Niagara. The building is the French Castle. Awesome reenactment site. My favourite at this time... In years past we were allowed to stay in the castle, but insurance policies changed, so no more... You can tour the castle and walls during the day... https://oldfortniagara.org/

Aye... I believe said by................. "Tim"..... I was thrown by yer sharky there... Excellent my goode man...

The boat from the Heron had deposited Captain Lasseter on the Wharf and the two men rowed back to their ship. He watched them go and also turned his eyes east and felt the breeze freshen. But, it was heavy. Heavy with moisture. He noted the clouds thickening and turned away, heading at a brisk pace into the town. Dorian made his way through the town, watched as others knew of the pending storm batten down their homes and storefronts. Only a handful closed, most of the street vendors with their carts went to seek out shelter. The Captain made his way to check on his recent purchases, some were ready, others not quite. He would wait for his fine suit to be finished on the morrow. He decided against heading to the chandlers as he feared he would either get caught in the weather on his way there or from the warehouse. Instead, he chose to wind his way towards the Surgeons’ property, and hopefully, a wakeful Master-at-Arms. Second bell of the Forenoon Watch

Dorian had finished shaving and dressing, with only a couple interruptions by the Pooka, and no damage done to his face while shaving. He had bathed in the now warm pot of water after shaving, then dressed in his clean clothes. Heading on deck Dorian addressed the Boatswain. “Mister Tucker, a fine morn?” “Aye Cap’n, tis a cool morn thus far. Might have a bit o’ rain later though, looks ta be clouds a-formin’ yonder.” He pointed across the bay east. Dorian shaded his eyes from the morning sun and saw what the Boatswain saw. There was a red haze and what appeared to be clouds forming. “Aye, ye be right… Have Jameson keep a sharp eye on th’ weather. I’ll be headed ashore ta check on Mister PEW, among other issues at hand. Please have the ships boat ready shortly.” Mister Tucker knuckled his forelock and moved to the waist and got Brocke and Press to man the sweeps of the boat. Dorian climbed down into the boat and ordered the men to row to the Watch Dog first then to shore. The short distance was spanned to the Frigate, where Captain Lasseter informed the watch of where he would be, to inform Captain Brand of such. Once his message was delivered, He headed to shore. 1 August, 1704 Eight Bells of the Morning Watch Fort Royal, Martinique

Tis marked; J.J.MEDER&ZOON SCHIEDAM.Holland It holds quite a bit of liquid... bit on the heavy side, but too cool to leave sitting around...

I picked this up, tis a dutch bottle. $10, I should have bought more, but I can get more from the sutler later. I recall somewhere seeing simular bottles found on shipwrecks. I've seen onion bottles and other glass bottles, but I love this fired clay vessel. I plan to use this at events. Good? Bad? Ugly?

I also recommend Barkertown Sutlers, where I got mine. http://www.barkertownsutlers.com/ It looks fitted, but thats just because of the belt over it, holding my bellybox. Price was middling, $145, but in my opinion, well worth it. Listed as a sleeved waistcoat with metal buttons. You'll have to call for specifics...

Just ta refresh...

Heh, Aye, bad teeth.... a wee bit o' scurvy'll do tha' to ya... Right then. Come now, M'inkwell gonna dry up soon iffn' ye don't step lively now.

Captain Lasseter had summoned Miss Moore for a bowl of hot water so he might shave. While he waited for her return, he pulled out a clean shirt, slops, and stockings. All the while the Pooka watched him. When Dorian was still, he padded over and rubbed his head against one of the captain’s legs, hoping for more attention. When it did not come, he chose to press his wet nose against the leg he had rubbed, which caused a better reaction. “Gah! Ye rascal, ‘ow is it that yer nose can be so cold?” Dorian reached down and gave the feline some attention until he threw himself on the ground, waiting for the man to rub his belly. Dorian chuckled and straightened, going back to his former business. Pooka laid there for a moment longer, purring. Seeing his wish would not be fulfilled, he rolled over and stood, and walked over to the chair and began rubbing his face on a leg. Callie returned with the hot water and Dorian thanked her, asking what was the morning fare. Slightly flustered, she thought for a moment. “Ah, Captain sir, I’ve not yet started the meal. I have started some coffee. “ She wore a look hoping he would not be cross. Dorian slowly sighed. “I see. Go on then and get something in th’ pot. Th’ crew’ll want a good meal soon enough. Find me a spot o’ tea as well.” “Aye Captain!” Callie scampered off to her domain. Dorian stood and watched her go, when she was gone he smiled and slowly shook his head. He looked to the pot of hot water she had left and ran a hand across his chin. He walked the short distance to his chest and opened the lid. Removing his shave kit and mirror, he closed the lid and walked to the table. There he readied himself for a shave. He dipped his brush into the water and moistened the shave soap. He did this a couple times until a good lather was produced. He then carefully dipped a piece of linen into the water and squeezed it out gently. He spread this on his face for a time, then laid it aside. He took up the lathered brush and began to apply sudsy soap to his whiskers. Once his whiskers were covered he took up the mirror and hung it on a bulkhead where the sunlight was best. He examined his application of lather and finding a spot not covered to his liking, took up the brush and applied more lather. He pulled out his razor and carefully thumbed the edge. Narrowing his eyes as he did so, he nodded and took up one of his belts. He hung the buckle on a hook and stretched the leather tightly. He stroked the razor across the smooth leather several times until he was satisfied. Released the belt and again thumbed the edge. A small nod indicated his approval. As he walked to the mirror, Callie appeared with a steaming mug. He bid her to place it on the table and thanked her. He took up the piece of linen and draped it on his left arm and approached his reflection. Dorian took in a slow breath and with his left hand drew tight the skin on his right cheek. Up came the razor and he made his first stroke. Six Bells of the Morning Watch

1 August 1704 Four Bells of the Morning Watch Dorian had waked at first light as it streamed into the ward room of the Heron. He lay in his hammock and listened to the sounds of the ship and crew. He jumped as the pooka hopped up onto his chest, startling him. He began to scratch the cat behind the ears as the feline settled onto his chest. Captain Lasseter shifted his pistol to his side so he had more room. Even though the cat purred loudly, Dorian could still hear the workings of his ship. All sounded at rest above and below. A breeze came with the lightening of the sky and the Heron swung on her hook, turning bow into the wind like a weathervane. He knew every ship in the bay turned likewise. As the bells struck above four times, he decided it was time to roll out. He gentle lifted the feline off his chest and rolled out of his hammock, bent down and placed the animal on the deck, scruffed his head once more and stood tall, stretching his back. He then went through the morning routine and readied himself for a new day. Many things were on his list to do, one of which was a visit to the Master-at-Arms ashore.

Dorian turned away from the small boat as it pulled away from the Heron and surveyed his craft. Though weary and full of rich food and wine, he would not be derelict in his duties. He headed aft to the quarterdeck and was amused to see the Coxswain standing and giving attention to the ships cat as he perched on the binnacle. “Mister Tucker… All is well I am to assume?” “Aye Sah, all is as it should be.” Dorian smiled and stroked the cats head. “Very well… I’ll be in m’cabin… gonna retire in the next hour. Alert me of anything out of the ordinary.” “Aye Sah” Lucky Tuck saluted Dorian and the captain turned away, heading below. Once in the ward room he relieved himself of his weapons and outer garments. He poured some fresh water into the basin and splashed his face. Patting off the excess moisture with a linen towel, he hung it on his shoulder and walked to his sea chest with a thought to pull out his razor, but once there he realized how tired he was. It would wait til morning. He instead got out his hammock and blew out all but one candle, took one of the fine pocket pistols with him and settled in for some rest. Soon he was dreaming of a time in a different port, a different time.

Well... The Scuttlebutt was created for all to use.... I try ta be in there when I can... usually I'm in the WardRoom though...

Aboard the Heron He padded across the deck slowly, stopping on occasion to listen to the men talking and watching what they did. He would come up close and rub against a leg and wait for some acknowledgment from the owner. Usually a hand would pat his head or ruff his neck for a short time. After a time he’d move on to another person when the previous one lost interest. After making rounds to most of the crew, avoiding a couple men who were either loud or moved around too much for his liking, he headed to the quarterdeck and jumped up onto the binnacle. It was a perfect spot to look down upon the men. He settled himself there and appeared to doze while the crew worked or walked the deck of the ship. Lucky Tuck walked up to the binnacle and smiled at the Pooka, reached out and scratched the large feline on the head, producing a loud purr. He stopped his attention only to be grabbed by the Pooka and made to continue attending to the cat.