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Black Syren

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    My nephew Brennan

    in Scuttlebutt

    Posted

    UPDATE:::

    Broadside Brennan had another cat scan run very recently and his tumor has actually shrunk! Thank you all for the prayers and the support and please continue to keep him in your prayers. His mom says he smiles when she reads his well wishes though he does not always understand us he is still smiling and what a beautiful smile! Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

    My nephew Brennan

    in Scuttlebutt

    Posted

    Ok I just heard from my step sister and Brennan was in Houston this weekend and has a mouthful of stitches. Not sure the story behind them but bless his heart..stitches! YUCK!!! I do have an address for cards and such now if anyone else would like to send Broadside Brennan a card. Kristy says that he might feel up to checking the Pub today or tomorrow to check out all those wishing him well!!! *Big Hugs Brennan!!!*

    As for the avatar..Thanks Bess I have no clue where it come from! *Thanks for sending it to me..I love Tridents!!!*

    And a snake is much diffrent than the scales of a mermaid...Mermaids are pretty and snakes are...creepy! Though Im sure Brennan may not agree with me lol

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    She did not figure any would accept her offering and none did, at least at that moment. All the men seemed to defer to a man short in stature and yet he seemed to draw one’s eyes. He was blonde and heavily framed with muscle, like a stout English oak, his eyes were of the deepest of browns with a hint of amber, piercing like the eyes of a raptor. His nose was a trifle overlong and his mouth held a cruel edge, hard and unyielding was her first thought and yet it changed as she surreptitiously gained further insight into the mans character. Superlative. That was the word she would use to describe him as he moved among the men, quietly speaking with them then moving to another. She shot a look from her lashes to Alan who gave a slight nod that he too was watching and wary of anything that may yet occur, Manus following suit.

    She had no idea the passage of time but she knew it was hot and the air was stale here in the small prison she helped guard. She could feel the sweat run along her skin in rivulets, her shirt sticking to her back. Argus still watching had decided to sprawl at her feet and to ease the ache in her lower back she leaned against the door. Alan and Manus had been having a discussion of what fare was better and this included breads and puddings then began a heated debate over drinks. She shook her head at them but could not prevent a slight curl of her lips in amusement. Her attention was then drawn back to the prisoners when the man she had so carefully watched came forwards. Not that he gave her any notice for he spoke directly to Alan and Manus. It was clear she was beneath his regard as he asked to speak to the Captain.

    Manus shook his head then deferred to Alan causing the one she now knew as Matthew Harding to shift. “The Captain is still busy with the ship, however I am sure Mister Warren would speak with you.” Her voice was husky and drew all eyes where she leaned against the door. But not his, he merely stiffened and angrily asked if women spoke for them. Alan stiffened as did Manus and Treasure merely sighed. “You asked a question and it was answered. Should you not be content with that?”

    Again she was ignored though Alan quickly spoke up that if he wished it Mister Warren could indeed be fetched. Mr. Harding told him to have Mr. Warren fetched at once causing Treasure to laugh again drawing eyes her way. “Not much for manners are you? Mr. Warren will come to you when he is able to and not a moment before. This is a working ship Mr. Harding, coming from one yourself I am sure you are well aware of this?” she kept her tones light to take any sting that may be perceived from them and she shifted blue green eyes to Alan and Manus before pushing away from the door and opening it causing Argus to rouse and stretch. “When Mr. Warren is able lad will you tell him that A Mr. Harding from our prisoners wishes a word?” Her tones were muted as was the reply but within moments she had said “There’s a good lad.” Then the door once more was closed and she leaned against it yet again.

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