Tempest Fitzgerald

William, I dare say you have created a monster! *Eyes the ladle's dangerous swoop* Miss Mercenary, I must beg you to take care with that instrument. If you were to cause ill to Mister Lasseter, than I will have to repair the damage.

After obtaining what was thought a proper amount of provisional stores, the Surgeon instructed the three hands as to their handling to the fortitude. Stepping from the procured barge's bow to the soft white sands holding it in place, she noted the placement of the sun above trying to get an approximate time of day before continuing on to the open maw of entrance. With a call of at ease to the men following in the shade of the high walls, she wandered into to the courtyard beyond the tall oaken doors. With a tilt of head, she tried to pinpoint the origin of voices drifting within the wide expanse. Walking to the center and turning slowly to take note of the detail in architecture and construction of the inner panorama, a single word came to mind... Imposing, very imposing, indeed.

*With a quick nod to Mister Lasseter, she scans the shoreline for the Master Gunner's where abouts and spotting him sees that her Steward is still keeping dilligent watch from the shadow thrown from the turret. Glancing to the Quartermaster* As you wish...I have a wonderful bottle of rare porter in my stores that I shall pack ashore. When you are free, I should be very intrested in walking the ramparts. Such a lofty elevation, I should think the view a true inspiration... *She turns away and carefully navigates the deck's tilt to the steps leading downward*

As you wish. I shall go below to obtain my dunnage... *Looks to the tilt of the decks...* Perhaps sideway is more the word rather than below, per say. If you are sure that it is of no issue to the workings here, I shall enjoy your company and knowledge in such matters. I realize the Captain is the master mind of said fortification, but I fear his responsibilities have grown in burden since that time.... *Pauses hearing the approach of footstep and turns to give attention to William...* Thank you, sir...I am sure that the tower will due nicely and echo your thoughts in regard to possibilities of guests. I shall make ready then, sir. You will excuse me... *Turning to the Quartermaster with a lowered voice* Another time...Mayhaps later this eve.

Thank you for your advice in these matters, Dorian. I do truly appreciate your thoughts. *Steps back a pace then pauses in thought* Perhaps you would be so kind as to show me the finer points of yon structure before the sun is lost this day. Things of such nature are rather forieng to me though it does hold a certain fascination. When time is permitting, of course...

Potter's Field

That is good to hear, then. *Follows the Quartermaster's line of sight to the repose of Mister Petee* I am quite sure the Captain has made proper arrangements in the wake of the Master Gunner's recouperation... *Glances sidelong to Mister Lasseter* I assure you, I have no worries of my self well being. I sleep light and have a tendency to always be armed. There is also Armand who tends to sleep lighter than I do. I am sure that the time ashore in the evening hours shall be quite festive without all the wooden confinement aboard ship. It will more than likely be the last of such liberty for some time for the crew as a whole. Being that I am not privy to plans as far as the Captain is concerned, I can only assume that once we leave this area it will not be a short venture.

* She looks away to the fortification noticing the Master Gunner walking the area with her Steward in tow, then back to Mister Lasseter* Very well then...I will put all in order and leave this barky before I topple over from its deepening angle...A hammock under the heavens, you say...Mayhaps that would be pleasant...As long as a watch is posted against any ruffs.

Nothing of consequence outside of the fact that I was informed to stay near instead of taking rooms in town. Which mind you, is of no issue to me for it is my duty. I was informed arrange what was needed within the fortitude's confine in case a need arose in injuries. Fine and well, though I have yet to set foot in yon structure and therfore have no concept of where this is to occure and all this heaving and hoeing has already begun. You can understand my angst. *Frustration fleets across her features as she locks the Quartermaster's eyes with her own*

*Returning the Quartermaster's smile...* Mister Lasseter. I see that your hands are rather full of present obligation. I am in need of your authority to repair ashore... *Brushes dried sand from britches leg distractedly*

The Pox

Very well, sir... *Steping quickly to the side to avoid collision* But...I must borrow your ear for a moment in regard to accomodations on shore. I understand that I am to retire to the fortitude, but there are things in need of transfer from here to there and Mister Petee is not by my opinions, ready to exhert himself under un-nesecesary means. You do understand the situation I am currently in...This state of limbo amidst the chaos present?

Nice touch with the Espanski, Mad Jack. But...Quare Bungle Rye starts as such... Well Jack was a sailor, that roamed on the town And he met with damsel that skipped up and down Said the damsel to Jack, as she passed him by Would you care for to purchase some Quare bungle rye.... Etc, etc No offensement.

*The Surgeon nods in aknowledgement that her point has been received and gaining her Steward's attention, relays her instruction for the time being before returning her focus to the Master Gunner* You will excuse me, Mister Petee, while I query the proper athorities involving our move to shore. I suggest that you take this opportunity to gain substanence for it may be some time before edibles may be obtained. Armand will attend to your wants and needs. Remember well what we have discussed, sir. It would not be wise to go against my instruction twice... *Stepping away and around the organized chaos on deck, she searches the parmeter to find someone to answer questions that have come to bare...*

Snooker

*A glimpse of skeptisism fleets through the Surgeon's eyes at the note of a smallish hint of spirits in the air. * Good, sir...Good to hear. You will do me the favor of resting here until I can gain information in regard to our accomodation ashore at yon fortitude... *Leaning close to trap the Master Gunner's eyes with her own, she emits a hiss of whisper...* No consumption of distilled spirits, Mister Petee.. *Standing erect...* Are we clear, sir?

*Having made note of the galleon's run aground, Tempest raises from the comfort of the palm's support to trek across the beach and back into the shallows. Observing a rope ladder over the side, she takes hold of the rungs and climbs upward to the stairs built into the Gunwale then transfers her weight and grasp to gain the final progress to the Main Deck. Bare feet touching the deck's years of wear, she observes her Steward and the Master Gunner near the far rail and moves to their proximity, carefully dodging the flurry of activity she takes in the distress on Armand's features.* Good morn to you, Mister Petee! I see you are up and about to see what the day has to offer. How are you feeling?

*Armand takes the Master Gunner's arm gently to guide him away from the scurrying about deck to a sea chest out of harms way.* Please, monsieur...You will sit?

Billiards of finesse

*Recognizing the form of the Master Gunner climbing up the companion way ladder, Armand quickly rids himself of the tray bearing Mister Petee's morning meal and follows swiftly up to the Main Deck. Spotting his quary, the Steward approaches looking rather cross..* Monsieur! Non!...You have not been...*Puzzles for the word*...cleared to be on your own libre arbitre...Zuk! Merde!....Your own free will. Please, let me help you to a...sitting down.

( I loved "Greg the Bunny". I guess it was not everyone's cup of tea. *sigh*) Battery powered

*Hearing a hail from the distance, she opens her eyes and leans forward from the palm acting as a support to her back. Squinting to the glare, cups her hands to relay a respone...* "Good morn to you, sir! Just trying to obtain some relief from the heat, as it were. The water is of fine temperment to my realization, prime indeed!" *Pushes away a bothersome strand of hair that clings to her cheek* You are well this day?

Greg the Bunny

Rainbow suspenders (or braces, if you will)

*After feeling the brush of the shallowing water's sand strewn bottom, the Surgeon raised herself with a sidelong survey of the galleon's progress within the encompassing borders of the cove. Sheltering her eyes fron the reflective glare cast from the liquid surface, Tempest noted the activity swarming about the decks in response to the call of orders playing on the breeze. The fortitude that had been under dilligent construct, lay to the right and was a greater distance to traverse compared to the line of palms and white sand to the left. Movement caught her peripheral and glancing to its direction, the notice of a smallish skate undulated by under the power of water inclined wings to dissapear into deeper soundings. Choice of bearing made, she slogged to the left as the offshore breeze met to struggle for power and standing against those of onshore nature. Wet sand gave way to the dusting of dry, powdering the careful placement of step to the nearest Royal Palm and its spray of shade to the temperate glow from above...*