William Brand

Twenty on the treadmill today. I did a good sprint in the middle. It felt good.

He means, "Lass, thy efforts are laudable."

July 28, 1704 - Ville du Fort Royal "Est-ce que vous êtes ivre?" Captain Lasseter came awake from a very deep well of confusion. His head swam in a miasma of pain and lost time. The voice, coming at him now, was direct. The harshness of it cut across his temples. He felt a bit of a kick, perhaps from a boot. "Est-ce que vous êtes ivre? Comprenez-vous?" It took some time for Dorian to get his bearings and there was little about him which helped in this regard. He was armed, though for what reason he couldn't guess. His hair felt wet, and when he put his hand to his face it came away sticky with blood. A man was bent over him, pressing the light from an open shuttered lantern into his face. There was an interchange between the lurking man and another which Dorian could not make out past the light. They used words like "Magistrat" and "criminel". "Il me...faut un...docteur." Dorian attempted, hoping this request might buy him some immediate empathy and assistance. It came out too quiet and not a little slurred. "Qu'est-ce que c'est? Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit?" the man returned, louder than necessary. "L'anglais..." said the other unseen man. "Êtes-vous anglais ?" Dorian seemed unsure for a moment how to answer. It wasn't the situation exactly. It was his mind, which was speaking to him as if a thing removed. His thoughts were surfacing from a very muddy place in the back of his head. What little French he had mastered over the years was returning to him with ease, but his native language suddenly seemed lost to him altogether. He just couldn't find his tongue, but for a little français. 'I've died and come back a Frenchmen...' he thought, and with this he found his tongue. "Captain Lasseter." He managed. "Capitaine L'asseteur." The man parroted, then added. "Vous avez tué ces hommes." Dorian did not understand the man's words a moment, or whether or not they were meant as a question or accusation. He looked down at the strewn bodies of the two strangers and was for a moment as surprised to find them there as the two men bent over him. Then that powder in his mind, which had seemed wet and worthless before, fired off his memory.

^ That would be the one with the slip-and-slide on the front lawn when Eric got naked and took a run down the slide. < I'm in the mood for Greek potatoes. V I'm passing the question along.

^ An island. < I'm also holding out for a very specific sword. V what is the best find for your kit you have discovered so far?

^ One. a Viking sword my wife bought for my birthday some six years ago. Now, if you were to ask me about knives. I own at least ten knives of various makes. Most of them handmade one of kind knives. < I had a friend in high school that would beat people up when they looked at me wrong and then he would tell me about it after. I had to tell him to stop. V Have you ever been in a knock down, drag out fight?

^ A raven. Smart. Flight. Can eat almost anything. I'd live everywhere. < I'm going out into the yard today to do some cleaning. V Do you own or rent?

This thread reminds me of the an old bookmark in my files.

Living historians entertain the public at locations all around the world, so for me, reenactment and entertainment can be, and often are, synonymous. There is only a line if we make it so.

^ My tastes are eclectic. They range from U2 to Beethoven and back again. Among my collection you will find the The Pogues, Brahms, Radiohead, Miles Davis, Bach, Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, Harry Connick Jr., Journey, Prairie Home Companion, Pink Floyd, The Cars, and everything in between. I have my Loreena McKennit moments and my Blind Melon moments. < I like live music at small social gatherings. V Have you played or do you now play a musical instrument?

Oft times people mistakingly believe that conformity weakens their personalities or the special flavor they bring to pyracy. We all want to be a little unique or even larger than life. Yet in pyracy, you can dress two people in almost the exact period clothing and they will still let their personalities shine through. Often more so. Example: You could dress Patrick and Jim in identical slops and shirts with little alteration in their waistcoats and shoes and they would still stand out as very unique and larger than life personalities, each with their own brand of 'color'. Pirates don't need to be vastly different to be utterly unique. Any of you who might feel trepidation that your personalities might be limited by the limitations of period clothing will be surprised by the result of some of the general conformity. A little attention to accuracy allows us the ability to submerge ourselves in the 'feel' of it all. If it looks real, it feels real. Look at the tens of thousands of Civil War reenactors who all look very similar. Another example is Hurricane. Even when he is dressed as Henry Morgan, he doesn't go overboard. His overall costuming is relatively simple, but he lets his 'presence' shine through.

^ My ability to make people laugh. < I'm planning a dinner party for April Fool's Day. I love planning parties, social events and spontaneous get togethers. V Do you have a favorite piece of classical music?

July 28, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog After four bells of First Watch The Larboard crews had worked well, from failing light, into the darkness. Work was halted on many projects for the day, and while the quarter galley was nowhere near completion, the Ward Room still seemed improved for the work which had been accomplished so far. William lingered in the small room at the table, comfortable among his many books and ledgers. He poured over numbers and tallies, making the occasional adjustment, so that the crew and the ship would benefit from the best allotment of shares. Some finances were shifted to the coffers to compensate for damages done to stores and materials. A knock came at the door while he worked and Alan Woodington put his head in to inform the Captain that Tempest and Chanault were going ashore. William nodded, and not too surprised, for Tempest had her ways and her secrets to keep. She had often departed under shadow for destinations unknown. "Very well, Mister Woodington. See that they have four rowers with them when they go, and remind the rowers not too linger." he said smiling. "Might th' rowers find refreshment ere they return, Cap'n?" Alan inquired. "Enough to see them back again." William replied, already returning to his work. "Aye, Sah." The door clicked shut on the latch and the Ward Room was returned to relative silence. Thoughts of Tempest turned William's mind to Le Requiem and he wondered that he had received no word from that quarter. He wondered if some business had made it impossible, and he drank a silent toast to Captain Fournier's health. As if in answer to this, and with no small touch of omens, William heard a pitiful sound come up through the floorboards. He paused to listen, and for a time he heard nothing, but then again came a soft sound from one of the ship's cats. William gathered up the many tomes and ledgers, setting them on the stern bench. He lifted the candles away. Then he folded back the hinged pieces of the Ward Room table until it was lifted forward and away from the trap doors which concealed the aft gunnery compartment. He lifted one of the large doors up to reveal Freki, the eight pound stern chaser. He peered down into the darkness, but saw nothing. "Anubis...?" he asked, questioning the dark. "...Pandora?" He was answered with nothing at first. Then he heard the soft, almost submissive call of the ship's British short-hair, Amenhotep. "Amen, come up from there." William urged, using the softer 'Ahh-men' that he often used to call the cat. Not wishing to crawl down into the gunnery compartment by candlelight, he urged the cat several times. "Come on. Come here, Amen." The cat merely mewed again, and then William heard the hurt of it. He made his way down into the hole and moved among the great guns, looking here and there for the fat, longanimous cat. He found Amenhotep in a recessed space in one corner of the compartment. There, the grey short-hair lay on his left side, looking powerless to move. Blood was smeared on his face and the tear duct of one eye oozed with the same stuff. Amen looked ghastly in this poor light and William scooped him up as gently as he could in the low space. He brought him up again into the Ward Room. Then William stood a long time with the damaged animal, wondering what to do with him. He had heard the small boat row away in the relative silence, bearing Tempest and Chanault away, and he thought he might call the ship's doctor back, but then thought different of it. Instead, he lay the wounded animal aside and folded the trap door and table down again. Then he pillowed the cat on a folded shirt of his and wiped away the clotted blood with a wet cloth. All the while Amen mewed, and it wounded William to see the cat this way. He was fond of Amenhotep, for the cat, while lazy past understanding, had been the preferred lap companion of many a sailor aboard ship. Even Lazarus, who himself had scolded the cats again and again for investigating his cooking, had liked the fat grey. "How long have you lain in his state?" William asked the cat as he cleaned away the blood. "Were you among the wounded at battle these few days past?" Amen mewed again and it was apparent that much damage had been done to him. He was now as he had been, listless, quiet, but now for reasons which implied some concussive blow. Perhaps the poor cat had been too near the quarter galley when it was stripped from the 'Dog by cannon fire. Perhaps he had escaped some crushing debris, only to languish in the dark. Whatever had happened, Amenhotep slipped away in those few moments. His breath became labored until it came in long gasps and then even longer pauses. William stroked his side, and he was only once startled when the cat took another breath after so long a time, that William had given him up for dead. Then a few more labored breaths followed and he was gone. William wept for the cat then, and felt both unashamed and stupid for doing so. These conflicting emotions made him shake his head, there in the half lit room. "A pirate vagabond these eight years and now a school boy." William said aloud to no one, grateful that he had not called the doctor back to witness this unexplainable, yet perfectly understandable mourning. "Goodbye, Amen." Five bells of First Watch ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

Demolition Man. Next... "Is that Slay as in to kill?"

I think it would still look like a painted garage door. Paint a period style map on a large canvas drop cloth and drape it over the door when you aren't using it.

^ My poverty < I love Spring. I have the fever to build and make improvements around the yard. V If you could rebuild one ancient wonder, what would it be?

Today's Special is Shepherd's Pie...

The boots question is so simple, especially for PIP. If you have already bought them, wear them. If you haven't bought them, buy shoes. And if you don't think the period shoes look great, than you've missed a lot of good pictures coming from the Gentlemen of Fortune, Archangel crew, Blackjohn, Foxe, Patrick and the other historical groups. On another note, or rather the subject at hand, I just bought five patterns from Kass. New slops, waistcoats and a frock coat are in my future now. The handsewn question is still a question, but I will definately look the part of a pirate very soon.

I had a very nice conversation with Kass this evening. Of course, we did talk some business, as I was buying patterns. Five patterns to be exact. You can't buy just one. We both agreed that this was a great hobby, because even if you won the lottery, you would just keep on doing this same old hobby. Just on a bigger scale. Kass wants an island, but who doesn't? Kass. Check. Harry Silkie Red Cat Jenny Dorian Lasseter Siren, Captain of the Poseidon Red-Handed Jill Maeve Jim Hawkins Kass

Aye, if enough are interested. I'll start getting pricing.

I am wearing shoes. Period shoes with replica buckles.

July 28, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog William was still making rounds around the Watch Dog as the last of the Starboard Watch filled the shore-bound boat. William paused when he reached the new carpenter. "Mister Wenge..." "Sah!" "Are you not assigned to the Starboard Watch?" "Aye, Sah!" he returned, then added, "There is work to be done yet, Sah." "Not in this failing light, Mister Wenge, and not while you are off duty." William fished in his pocket for a few coins and offered them to the carpenter. "Until you come into shares at some later time, you will take payment for your day's labor and go ashore in the boat." It was an offer, favor and order all in one statement, and Alder was gracious enough not to argue the point, though William noted his reluctance with so much work left unfinished. "Rest and Labor are the outermost arcs of the same pendulum, Mister Wenge." The carpenter smiled at this. "Aye, Sah. Thank you, Sah." Then he carried himself, the wages and the smile over the rail and down into the waiting boat. ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

^ Aye. I climbed a wall in City of the Rocks State Park in Southern Idaho that was so steep, that when I got to about 50 feet I realized I couldn't see the hand or footholds to get back down. The climb down was a bit dodgy. < My wife does swoon. V Have you ever fired a cannon?

Please post this offer in the carpool thread as well for future reference.

I had a divine chicken salad today. Mmmm...