William Brand

The Callahans and I went to Home Depot in garb to by the canvas and paint for the Pub flag at PIP. We got our share of smiles.

"I fear that den Oven will escape the island, if he has not already. We might yet exchange a broadside or two with the fool come some bloody Friday." Preston continued to muse aloud about the whereabouts and mortality of Ajayi and Joshua. He touched on several points William might have made aloud, including the possibility that Mister Wellings had crossed to the side of den Oven, though he never said such of Ajayi. No, it was more likely that Ajayi would not go willingly with den Oven, but being a slave of some value, was compelled to go for use as 'currency'. William agreed on this point with a solitary, slow 'yes' which came out sounding like a long exhale laced with fatigue. "Klaas, dead." Preston said aloud once more. "Exonerated 'n death." William nodded, and despite the graveness of the moment, he found that he liked the phrase. "Exonerated in death," he repeated aloud, and wondered then if it would be applied to himself one day.

Nicole Dowland deserves much of the credit. She took control of the event and put together and amazing evening, for never having done one before. We filled the theater. Good food. Good guests.

Life has been busy. I recently had the privilege of attending both a charity event and an ambassador event. The charity event was for Equality Now and we raised just over $2,000. It was well attended, despite the fact that we had less than a month and a half to advertise and pull it off.

Pot roast on a bed of carrots and potatoes?

Now...what will you have?

He's much better today. It wasn't illness, but a disagreement with something he ate. A mild case of food poisoning perhaps, but he is fine now.

BOO! Wow, it's so nice to see you among the masses. Consider yourself added to the camp this year and every year after.

3 1/2 year old. Vomitting. 3 AM. One of those nights after one of those oh so unpleasant days.

When you deal with some of the people I deal with you sometimes wear boots. What time is it...? I can't remember the last time I slept in 'til the latter part of the Forenoon Watch.

William walks in, goes straight back to his room and falls into bed without so much as removing his boots. Just that kind of day.

August 4, 1704 -Aboard the Lucy William asked Preston to explain all that had transpired aboard the Lucy and ashore in the absence of the 'Dog. Preston launched into an immediate narrative as William wrung out what few personal items he could in a basin that Miss Ashcombe made available to him. William also took the time to lay out his cutlass and confirm the absence of his pistol as Preston went on uninterrupted. Over the course of a few minutes, several items found their way onto the table before Captain Brand, including a purse of mixed coin, a handkerchief, and one very large, round, golden watch, which William took up at once with some concern, holding it to his ear. Preston paused to give William adequate silence and after a moment, an appreciative smile spread across William's lips. "A credit to its maker." William said as he replaced it on the table. During all of this, Miss Ashcombe attempted the role of hostess, offering what alcohol was to be had, which only Preston accepted and a weak tea, which William refused with a slow shake of his head. The stew was received better, despite a distant civility on William's part when speaking with Miss Ashcombe, for he had shared no more than two words with her since coming aboard. Preston ended his report and asked for news in kind. William paused a moment before reciprocating. He pushed his stew aside and looked directly at Preston. "Klaas Scymmelpenninck was found beaten to death....his body thrown headlong down a well." William said flattly, and waited while the Master's countenance altered in degrees. Preston's face changed very little on the surface, apart from darkening into an angry quiet, but William knew him well enough to take in the more subtle reactions. With this news ingested, William continued to explain the business of hunting down den Oven as he had witnessed it in St. Louis. He made no mention of Murin or her new accommodations.

Welcome aboard. Which part of the Carolinas do you hail from?

A nice thick head of hair and a good healthy color. She looks fine and well suited to go to sea one day.

August 4, 1704- Aboard the Lucy William stood awhile in bemusement of his own appearance. As hard as it was raining, he still managed to match it with the remaining water that streamed from his cloths. He held his arms out from his sides and examined the damage to his coat. One of the great pockets was torn, but more than this, it would take days to see it dry again. His heavy weather gear now served only to keep water in. 'I'm drowned.' William thought, though he didn't say it aloud. He thought it best to tempt neither fate nor the fears of men. Preston stood by remaking Gavin Montgomery from the crown of his head on down with so many carefully picked words. William was of no such mind, too grateful not to be drowned in such a stupid way to be angry now, but he let the Ship's Master remind Gavin that a mistake great or small can kill a man or two along the way. "Sah...?" Nigel stood at William's elbow with a dry coat. "Keep it by." William said, to wet to care for comfort for the moment. Instead, he went to the side and watched the Lucy's men bail the Patricia. Preston joined him there and William did not withhold his praise of the Lucy's crew. Three bells of First Watch

Cigars and clay pipes all around! Congratulations and a hearty well done to your lovely wife.

Crow!!!

Having nursed a crow and a common raven back to health, I would love a corvid of some kind, though it would have to be one that can't fly, because I can't justify keeping any creature of flight in captivity. I would love an African Raven.

"Aye, the sea wa..." William began, but a wave over-crested him. He came up with more water in him than anytime thus far and the weight of his clothing was so heavy now that he was obliged to roll over on his back to keep the surface. A wave parted him and the Patricia a second time as he tried to gain the proffered hand. William used a third wave to his advantage, which brought him against the Patricia sideways. It was a hard hit, and Preston was obliged to step back a bit as William used the momentum of the contact to roll into the cutter. It proved an effective maneuver, if not a graceful one, for William spilled into the boat clumsily. Preston helped him the rest of the way in and William came to rest in a clutter of limbs, cutlass and the dregs of his dignity. Simon Larke and Gavin Montgomery were at the head of Patricia now, trapped in the dangerous position between the small cutter and the large one. The Patricia was not helping them any by thudding repeatedly against the hull and it was impossible to tell who was rescuing whom as their mettle was tested between hammer and anvil. Up above, men of the ship were pulling hard upon the lines to bring Patricia parallel to the Lucy. Ben Quigley was serving as a sort of anchoring point off the beam, giving over the slack to the pullers while Tucker moved about the smallboat with the confidence of a man secured. His efforts were benefitted by Adam above, who proved to be as good at tying knots as he'd been reported to be. Preston, certain that William was safe for the moment, caught a line on the fly, which Nigel had thrown deftly across the void, and he lashed it to the tiller, calling for another line as he did so. William gained his feet as quickly as he could, if badly. Water rushed from his clothes, adding to the half swamped boat and his coat was so heavy that he almost went over a second time. He was obliged to turn on one heel in a move that probably looked graceful from any other vantage point but his own, and being overbalanced a bit, he allowed himself to fall a little forward as he tried to gain the bow. Here, he threw his shoulder into Lucy's side to prevent Gavin's head from being dashed as the Patricia swung a little on her keel. Simon had just grabbed one of the lines and pulled Gavin free of the Patricia as it swung alongside. Simon released him at once and Gavin remained, clutching the smallboat in relative safety now, while Simon was hauled forward and up by the Lucy's men.

William sank far enough in the first few moments that he passed under the Patricia. This was not accomplished as much by the current below as it was by the boat being carried over him by the current above. He was unaware of this, being preoccupied with the sea first, and being almost upside down in it. Also, he had not had sufficient time to carry a full breath with him before being submerged, so he was made aware of his mortality soon enough, and being fully clothed, he was all too aware of having more weight on his person than was wished. Strangely enough though, William was not panicked. He had never been one to panic in open water, owing to a natural ability to tread the medium since a very young age. In fact, he was a poor swimmer, even poorer than most, but like a dog, he could keep his head above water for long periods of time. Still, stranger than not panicking was his mood of the moment, for being a creature of experience as he was, he sometimes delighted in the most inopportune luxuries by enjoying the unusual circumstances in which he found himself, and this moment was no exception. Thrust as he was into peril, he still managed a second or two to wonder at the calm aspect of the sea beneath, while a cacophony of noise murmured down from overhead. He also had time to consider his own vanity, and even in the face of so much danger, he choose the unwise course of keeping his coat and cutlass despite the volume of water the cloth had collected and the weight of the steel on his hip. He did not want to lose either, and being ever so stubborn about such things, he decided to maintain them. As he righted himself under water, he was minutely aware of losing a pistol, for the weight of it, though small by comparison to the rest of him, was significant enough that he felt it drop away and he pitied the loss. He instinctively slapped at the place where it had been on his belt far too late to have caught it back again. He felt a line drag over his face then and he grabbed at it. It slipped from his fingers even as he coiled his hand upon the cable, but this was enough. The short contact proved to be an adequate tug, so that he gained a little buoyancy and began kicking upwards.

Quick and EZ Amputation saved my life!

August 4, 1704 William went over and down into the cutter, Patricia. There he found his place among the Master-at-Arms, the Steward, the Larboard Marines and a handful of rowers. Miss Tribbiani was conspicuously absent, so Cobus sat in her place, chosen for his good standing and his multiplicity of tongues. They began what should have been a short, uneventful voyage from one ship to another. The rain and wind were up, which caused no small amount of chop, and even in the darkness, one could see that many inbound waves were white-capped. Still, the rowers bent into their oars and the small boat went smoothly enough to her destination. Once there, William called out to the Lucy, out of formality more than need, for Nigel Brisbane was already at the rail. They exchanged the short pleasantries allowed them in the gale and men stood at the ready to receive them. It was in that last moment on approach that the routine of the moment gave over to sudden chaos, and what might have proved comical in better weather, carried little or no humor in the night storm. William stood at the bow of the Patricia, along with Jochem Roggenbroet. Jochem was forward, accepting an offered line of the Lucy. William was stepping forward also, as nimbly as one might, hoping to gain the ladder of the Lucy, when someone struck him from behind. It was not an attack, per se, but it served as dangerous as one, for William stumbled just enough to upset Jochem, who turned about so quickly in surprise, that he shoved William quite clear of the safety of the Patricia. One moment William was upright and progressing to the security of the Lucy, and the next he was in the brink, fully clothed and fully prepared to sink from history. William had just enough time as he passed out of one element and into another to think, "Where am I off to?", though his actual thought was far more abstract than this, for in that sudden moment he experienced the clarity of thought and the disproportionate sense of time which one only enjoys in a split second fired by pure adrenaline. Once in the sea, he was joined there by Gavin Montgomery and Simon Larke. The second had fallen over board with him, owing to the stumble which had first upset William's progress, while the third had followed with the purpose of rescuing either of the first two. Tudor kept her place by virtue of being seated, and Eric remained aboard through an effort of vaulting over Montgomery as he fell. The Patricia herself was tipped so suddenly, that anyone left aboard was put in as much danger as the surprised swimmers, for she dipped and filled at the starboard stern quite suddenly, and this was not at all fortuitous, she being heavy with rain already. The air filled with voices at once, and if the wind and strong rain had made yelling a requirement before, it was now a necessity made more grave by circumstance. Between two and three bells of First Watch Larboard Watch on Duty

Doctor Marcus Raphael Mission III

Welcome aboard, Ducky.

Raphael Mission. That will take some getting used to. Why not Marc or Marcus...?