Black Syren

Intresting sort of play...Patrick Sorry I hit yer nose on the way in mate..Tis most unusually long fer some reason..lol

After a few hours sleep she awoke in her hammock unable to sleep more, her thoughts on her beloved brother and his death at the hands of a madman. Her step-Father had lured her mother in with false proclamations of love, when in truth he wanted to lay claim to the only man having the heart of the famous courtesan. Though her mother had been clever knowing the ways of men and had protected her wealth leaving it for Treasure upon her death. The Earl nearly destitute in funding but rich in land had coveted Treasure for that wealth and tried to bend her to his will and eventually killing her brother to force her compliance causing her to flee.

And now from a position of wealth to freedom. A freedom she was grateful for with every breath she took, her brother Anthony would have loved the sea, as she did. It was both generous and treacherous and always filled with Surprises. She owed William ,now the Captain much, if not for him she would not be here at all and perhaps not be alive herself. It was true her mother had trained her to follow in her steps and readily could she do so if needed. But William had offered her a different life and one more eagerly embraced, though she would never forget her roots, who she was or who her mother had been.

Feeling the need for the sea upon her face she moved soundlessly past those asleep in their hammocks and sighed feeling her spirit lighten as the sea winds tugged at her loose hair, her clothing. How different the sea looked at night, the sea black and gilded by the touch of the stars and the moon. Staying free of those working she glanced to her post to see Ajayi and waved once to him and was smiling as he returned her wave. He was so different, quiet and yet she sensed a ruthless quality to him, like an animal that lay in wait. Perhaps it was part of being a slave, she knew well what it was like to not have options though her situation had differed greatly from his. Turning from him she glanced out over the sea, riveted by it’s dark beauty and laid her hands upon the rail eyes closing allowing herself to be willingly seduced by the sea. Opening her eyes once more she took in the Heron and the Maastricht two so very diffrent ships whose destinies would now be forever changed by their attack. 'You should have let sleeping dogs lay" She whispered.

I too wish to welcome you as I am originally from Beaumont and now reside in the Austin area. Tis welcome to have ye and Aye, there be a crew in Galveston..Black Deacon's. And the PirateKind has one in the Austin area.

So how bout fillin up me tankard..twas a long speech.

No cats as Nora is allergic to them...but Everytime I sew or crochet My cockatiel "Buddy" Assists me by holding the thread in his foot. I am trying to teach him to sew but so far he has not picked up on it as of yet...*sighs*

The ringing of eight bells assured her her watch was over and she smiled wearily at the Ajayi who was climbing to take her place. He was perhaps the quietest on the ship, and she loved to hear him speak for his voice was accented and musical. She slipped into the rigging and nearly lost her grip as the musket swung hard against her as the Dog leapt through a wave. The sea had grown rougher in the past two hours and she felt large steadying hands upon her holding her steady. Her muscles quivered and she placed her forehead against the ropes and caught her breath and looked down. Twas a long fall, she thanked Ajayi huskily smiling at the concern in his dark eyes and climbed down more slowly.

Once her feet hit the deck she was swaying with exhaustion and wanted nothing more than to find her hammock but her musket needed tending, and then she must eat. Rubbing at tired eyes she moved towards the armory to take care of her weapon weaving through her fellows with a few greetings and once finished moved to the galley and only took a crust of bread and a tankard of water. Eating quickly and finishing her water she moved to take her ease in her hammock. All too soon the rocking of the ship had her deeply asleep and the trauma of the day before had her dreaming of her little brother and her step father.

arches a brow.."A drynk in friendship is all that is required. I do not think that qualifies for a blade to any belly be it mine or yours. And please do put away the knife before ye hurt yerself, all are friendly here."

Strolls into the tavern and grins, "Well there be rum, loot, pillaging, Rum, wenches, Mast-er and Command-er and more rum.

As ye be new tis yer honor to buy all of yer brethren a round and ye can start me off with a Plunder Me Cherry.

Oh and beware yer purse, there be some nimble fingers here bouts." Looks about then moves to the bar and leaps up to take a seat. "Extra cherries with that drink..And by the way welcome to the Pub."

The joviality below almost seemed surreal considering the past day, the fight at sea and the two ships now ahead of the WatchDog. She turned her attention back to the Heron to watch the graceful cutter slip through the waves with no fuss. The French flag, White with the three Fleur-De-Lis for design flapping proudly above the English flag A blue and white field with a red cross. She had once read that French regiments had many flags and in..What year was it..1690 or so at the Battle of Fleurus that French troops unknowingly attacked each other and this had later led to the regiments attaching white scarves to their flags letting other French regiments know they were brothers. And too it was the color of the French King, and later evolved into the Fleur-De-Lis. Or at least that is what she had once read if memory served.

She turned her gaze from the Heron to the Maastricht and watched as it seemed to lumber along in the waves not at all as graceful as the Watchdog or the Heron and wondered if the Captain would keep them or sell them once they reached port. And if he kept them, what would they be named. She lifted her spyglass and took a sweep of the sea before settling again and reaching up to slip a lock of hair that had escaped her braid back behind her ear. Again she rolled her shoulders and swung her legs to revive feeling in limbs numb from sitting and slowly arched her back hissing with discomfort.

Seeing Ciaran watching her she gave him a mischievous grin causing him to shake his head and wink at her before he too went back to watching the sea. She looked to the decks watching the sailors go about their duties efficiently. She studied each for a moment before settling on Owen and watching him for some long moments before once more returning her gaze to the sea.

Oh I will..Too stubborn to go anywhere else..

Speaking of bodily fluids and blood...I recently went into the hospital for chest pains only to discover I was severely anemic. So they send me home and a month later..*This past weekend* I am admitted to the hospital. My anemia had dropped to life threatning status. My blood count was at a 4.2 so I had to have a transfusion..Four bags of blood *Greedy gerl* and now I have to have a surgery when my body builds up some more to fix the problem making me anemic..All before Christmas....Maybe

And it's my tenth wedding anniversary today!!!!!

Tired. She could not ever remember being so worn and yet exhileration still flowed hotly through her veins. She tilted her head back to further clear the cobwebs and wished for coffee or something stronger to keep her more fully alert. A laugh below had her peering down to the decks and she could tell the ribbing one of the crew mates was getting had him flustered for even she could see him blush. She grinned for a moment…life did go on.

Again her gaze swept out over the sea taking in the tranquil waters which now lay like glass, the sun making it sparkle like the finest of jewls. The Heron and Maastricht added to their fleet and she watched both ships for a moment their grace bewitching on the open waters, before sweeping her gaze out to the horizon and seeing nothing further.

A splash to the starboard side caught her attention and she looked down to see a pod of dolphins, their shapes dark and lively beneath the sea before suddenly leaping free of the water with a spray and squeeking their language before diving deep lost to view. There were at least 15 that stayed with them for the next hour frolicking at their side and then they were gone.

Stifling a yawn behind her hand she lifted her face to the winds hoping to dispel her fatigue, she shifted from where she sat and rolled her tight shoulders and cast her gaze back out to the horizon. Her mind wandered to Martinique and what she would do once there..Thoughts of a swim filled her and she grinned….Her gaze eagerly sought the horizon now for the first sight of land…And the promise of a swim.

Her fatigue fading somewhat she hummed merrily tapping her sandaled foot before giving her voice freedom to sing an Italian aria her mother had taught her as a child.

For my secret name most do not know me by...

T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E.: Temptress Readily Exchanging Arousing Stimulation and Unrestrained, Rapturous Embraces

And by my normal name...

S.I.R.E.N.: Sexy Individual Readily Exchanging Necking

From her perch the winds whistled past her ears, down below the caps of the sea looked like running horses and the blue of the sea was spellbinding. Her gaze shifted to the deck of the Dog and she could see those not injured working on the damages, those who had been injured moving slowly, helping along others to the Surgery Ward .

The Heron was soon lashed to the sides of the Maastricht like an unruly horse but she could not dispel the tension that sat upon her like a shroud. As the Heron was lashed she noticed the small group of prisoners at the rear huddle together and called down “Captain, ye have a small group to the rear of the Prisoners on the Maastricht who are huddling.” She did not glance from the group again but kept steady focus upon them.

Maybe it was nothing, Maybe they were nervous or protecting one of their own for whatever reason, It could very well be a woman in disguise and shipmates sought to conceal such. But she would feel better once it was checked upon.

Not the Atrice from Pirate Tales arrr ye? If so then I too bid ye welcome...*commodore*

WHOA!!!!

low-fat

*My yahoo is not working for some reason*

As the Patricia was lowered and rowed to the cutter she loked back to the small group at the back of the prisoners on the fluyt. There was definitely talking going on but perhaps it was from their capture, or the loss of a comrade.

She glanced over to the cutter her musket still at ready and waited....

She could not hear what was said but she could see a tall gent make himself known to Mr. Lasseter and then step down as another approached. Apparently it was over but her ears still rang from the cannonfire and she glanced back to that small knot of sailors on the Fluyt, maybe it was nerves but she was not liking the congregation at all.

Leather pants are cool but only if'n he can feel them out. Personally for me? I adore a male in faded tight blue jeans with holes in the knees, Five O' clock shadow and long hair and no shirt.

But then on the other hand I like a very well dressed business suit *grins*

Or a Uniform..Did I mention the Marines were in my store for the Toys For Tots. lol A marine passed me and stopped then turned back and grinned at me winking at his fellows and said "I have a sword." Of course he was being naughty and I could not resist. I said "I have two" at this his fellows laughed and then I said "I also have two daggers." Boy what a discussion that turned into..

It seems I am belatedly welcoming you to the Pub but it seems ye keep good comapny. As for Oklahoma, I hail from Texas!

Although I do have to wonder about Blackfoot and what he would say bout me. *grins*

Now how about a Plunder Me cherry Luv, extra cherries of course.

It did not take much to realize the fight was over or was it? she refused to take burning eyes from the scene played below her and kept her musket at the ready and aimed on those below. She could see Ciaran and several of the others also still at attention. Closer to the back of the group of sailors of the fluyt there was a little whispering and she motioned to Ciaran to keep watch just in case. Afterall the Cutter was still about seemingly defeated as well. The only thing she could do was to keep watch over her fellow crew mates back.

As Havoc was yelled all the world seem to fall apart at the seams and for a moment she was too stunned to breathe much less move. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the blasts of cannonfire coming to her belatedly and bringing her to life. She could only watch in horror as the Coxswain was devoured by war, the yells of those trying to free his body from the wheel. She felt her stomach turn and lost her mettle, felt herself pale and tremble but managed to hold her stomachs contents and turn her eyes to the cutter and the Fluyt.

Although she had not known the sailor killed, he had been a member of The Dutch Fluyt, And now he was gone, never to see the glory of a sunrise or feel the peace of a night upon the sea. Would never feel the seaspray upon his face or enjoy a night in town on leave. And all because he had chosen the life of a sailor, the same life as she.

Then the world righted itself and she could smell the smoke, it overpowered her lungs, everything moved quickly nearly to fast to catch it all, and her ears no longer ringing were filled with the chanting of Death! There was no time to be squeamish, there was only survival, and time was of the essence. Every shot had to count, every shot was intended for the enemy and the lessons she had had as a child came swiftly to her.

Her musket already loaded was raised and she calmly sighted and narrowed one eye and calmly went to work picking off those Crew that would oppose them, and they would fall, remorse would come later, and perhaps regret at taking her first human lives, but now came the need for survival and it warred stronger within her than laying low to be fodder for the sealife that soon would began to circle as the blood spilled would lure them. "May God have mercy on my soul!" She whispered righting the musket and preparing it for another shot and another life.

It's amazing how words can be taken so far out of context. If you feel the need to be picking on others Pew then I suggest you head for the schoolyard...There is no place for that here.

The sun was illuminating the heavens with a fiery wrath casting the moon and her mantle of darkness from the ere sought after throne, and eternal battle of supremacy that would rage long after this battle at sea.

She sat tight watching both ships warily, she could hear the winds whistle past her ears and yet her mind seemed already turning over the latest orders. She pulled a deep breath locking it into her lungs then glanced over to her partner releasing that breath before beginning to load her gun.

At first she was awkward, the noise, her attention on the ships, the activity below, the swaying of the ship upon the swells. Then she realized she would end up dead if she could not focus. Wiping all from her mind but her task, she ruthlessly loaded her musket, set her teeth and growled low in her throat. A cornered animal was the most dangerous of its kind and if they wanted a bitch they had found one.

Eyes flashed coldly, face set as the first rays of warmth hit her face, but she felt it not, she doubted after this she would ever feel warm again.