Tudor MercWench Smith

After taking a quick inventory of the contents of the small trunk in her quaters, Tudor made a mental list of items she would need to purchase. She had planned to make do with the accessoires she had, they were kept in good condition, but with the Captian's bequeathment of her portion of the Ilex fortune, her desire to remain frugal after the gold she layed down before coming back to the ship last time, dimmed considerably. As soon as she reached the city, she strode purposefully through the streets, soaking up the late afternoon sun. Having noted it's location and browsing it's wares on her earlier excursions, Tudor had no trouble finding herself in the Tailor's small shop. She looked around the room, taking in all the fabrics and patterns, as she waited for the attention of the shop attendent who was packaging some garments for a previous customer. Just as she was greeted and pleasentries were exchanged, a bold colour caught Tudor's alert eye from behind the counter where a shop girl was folding a garment away. "That dress. . . ." Tudor said immedietly motioning to it. The apprentice that was attending her turned and his expression. "That dress, miss?" He scanned over Tudor's apperence with little subtlety or respect. "Miss, that dress was hand made by my master to the latest fashion for a a gentlewoman recently over from England but then she refused it. Insisted it was meant to have a train and that the hue of purple looked ill on her." He paused from his bragging over the dress's qualities to once again look at Tudor. "It is very expensive." Tudor did not even flinch. "Perfect. I'll have it, although I imagine there will be some small alterations to be made, as God did not deign grant me a fashionable height. I need it to be finished by evening and if you cannot have it done, then I shall take it and do it myself. And as to the other objections, well, as much as I love trains on my gowns it would be too much of a bother to fuss with at the dinner party I am going to," She paused to silently laugh at the mental picture of trying to go aboard a ship with yards of fabric cascading around her feet. "And I am told I look very well in purple, indeed." She smiled at the young man's stunned expression, hearing a posh accent and a gentlewoman's words come out of a woman wearing a sailor's grubby clothes. "Let me see the material." Too stunned to argue, the apprentice motioned for the girl to bring the dress over for Tudor to inspect. "The stitching will do. I have seen better," She had even stitched better herself, but that was extranious information. "But one cannot be too picky when pressed for time. And the silk is indeed of fine quality. Name the price." The boy told her an amount far beyond what it was worth, still an attempt to get her to give up her intentions of it's purchase, to which she scoffed and named a price much nearer the garments true worth, but still higher then the price she was sure was quoted when the gown was comissioned. To punctuate her offer, she scooped out the amount in gold from her bag and laid it down upon the counter. She left half an hour later, after her measurments had been taken, commission paid for the alterations and tip left for the apprentice to speed his stitching, with intentions to return in an hour to collect the dress. "Now, onto the jewlers." She said something between a grimmace and a smirk on her face.

Picked... but can't tell if the truths are gettin' wilder than the lies. I'll go wit' William, three be the lie. alright alright, so I would go willingly. Must learn to lie better. 1) Yes, as a matter of fact I DO have a fiance in England, however I learned quickly to not take drunken nightclub marriage proposals too seriously. I doubt he remembers me. 2) Well, knife fight is a relative term. It was preplanned and the surgeon won. 3) Is only true in my wildest dreams. However I am stuck in suburbia praying for the nearest band of gypsy to come along

pepsi and chees-its. the lunch of champions (well, recent vommit champions anyway. All my poor tummy wants to handle right now)

who's going to be there . . . well, now that you ask . . . I AM GOING TO BE THERE! Granted I will be hawking my guts out. Y'all are coming over to my booth and buying from me, right? RIGHT? lol

Tudor smiled inwardly, apprechiating how the captain thought. Much the same way she would have in the situation. In fact, she planned to excel at the scheme he concocted. "A very excellent idea. And sir, may I have permission to go ashore since I am off duty. I consider it bad luck to wear the same gown two times in a row." She said by way of explination with an impish smile.

She sipped from the glass he handed her, mulling over his words much as she savored the taste of the wine, her senses catagorizing every part. "You make very good sense of the situation sir. But still," She paused to down the last few sips of her glass. "If my opinion were to be asked . . . I would play his own game of disguise. Act as if we trust him implicity, but let no man be without weapon, well hidden though it may be." She looked up at her captain. "Friends can be the worst kind of betrayers, after all." She said with a simple earnestness. "Look at Judas."

The captain's smile and comment made Tudor's face relax ever so slightly. "T'is very true that there has never been a military man that could ever see me as a peer easily. Apparently the form of a woman is too much to look past. Though, the Liuetenant kept up his apperance very well. Maybe that is why I distrust him so. Anyone who can pretend to treat me as an equal so well, when there has never been a soul that accomplished that easily, is obviously good at dissembling. If he can hide his discomfort, what else could he hide?"

3 is a lie. You would willingly run away with gypsies. but my parents would still report it as kidnapping, now wouldn't they?

Tudor had remained on deck even though she had been relieved a while since. There were many things that needed her attention elsewhere, and she was at liberty to go ashore again which was tempting as she had her own buisness matters to attend to, but she did not wish to be far afield when the Captain returned to the Watch Dog. When he did, she was there waiting. After relaying the message that Captain Lasseter had left to her, she hestiated a moment, formulating the best chosen words to relay the events that had passed during her watch. "We also had an ambassador sir. From the ship that is there in the distance." She motioned to where the Narvarra was anchored. "A Lieutenenant De la Cruz came aboard, bearing his Captains compliments and an invitation." Again she paused to make sure she spoke well. "And while nothing outward in his actions made him suspisious, there was something in his very demeanour that I did not quite trust." Not that she ever entirely trusted any strangers, but that was not important. "He seemed to be sizing up the entire ship. Making note of it's every angle . .. and every armorment."

Oh! Oh! pick me!!! 1. I have a fiance in St. Albans, England 2. I have been in a knife fight 3. As a child I was kidnapped by gypsies

this is the best street sign EVER!!!! (taken on some street leaving the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, England)

Standing on the quaterdeck, Tudor watched De la Cruz return to his own ship, her expression stoney as she watched. She did not truely expect serious repercussions to come from this scouting expedition, but she would be a fool to not prepair and prevent against them. "And never let it be said that I am a fool." She whispered to herself, then flew into an organised action, seeing to it that word was spread to every memeber of crew aboard to be alert and prepaired, not to make ready for battle, but to make sure no one was without a weapon close at hand. "MISS TRIBBIANI! CIARAN!" She called aloft to Siren. "I want a report of every movement the crew on that ship makes. I don't want the captain going to the poop deck without my knowing about it! I will be watching from here as well!" She ordered, then settled herself onto the rail of the quater deck, squinting against the sun, seeing the spanish Lieutenant climbing aboard his own ship, and watching him make his way below, obstensibly to report to the captain. "You've made your first move. Do not think that my reaction will be to move rashly in response." She continued to talk, as if the crew across the wave could hear her. Training from ages past ehoed in her mind, 'Do not make a descion for action before looking at the lay of the land. Do not rush to a fight without looking at the issue from all angles. Do not decide anything without observing all possible arguments and outcomes, then when all is considered, decide which course will cause the least damage with the most reward. And so she observed.

She lifted the goblet to him in salute. "I have known many like you, Lieutenenant. Many of such are numbered amongst my closest friends. It can be a very hard thing, I believe, to see your kindred recieve easily what you must sweat and bleed for. And I must say I am envious of your desire to build such a haven for yourself. I find, as much as I wished that I toiled to such an end, that such a place could be nothing more then a temporary retreat for me. I am forever chained to my path, and labour for it's own sake, and to no higher purpose then to exisit," She paused to sip from the wine "and find what small pleasues I may." She finished her response to his words, almost silently challenging him to make sense of her own.

"That is very gracious of Captain Avendano, and while I can not formally speak for my Captain as regards what invitations he accepts and refueses, I am inclined to believe that he is more likely to accept then not." She said, swirling the wine gently in the goblet. Her tone remained casual, as did her posture. "I understand, of course." She wasn't sure what to make of the man that sat across from her. While she enjoyed the obvious respect he gave her position, it set her on her guard. No gentleman of any royal navy ever took her so well at ease. She would watch every move he made. Unsure of whether or not she should continue to gently probe into his intentions verbally, she stood, reached for the bottle of wine an refilled his glass as any good host would. "So tell me De la Cruz, what brings you into these waters?" She asked a general question, just into an attempt to keep conversation flowing.

With a mild and hidden bemusement Tudor watched as the officer of The Navarre came aboard, smiling to herself at the sheer confusion that must be felt by these strangers of seeing a woman in control of the deck. She looked aloft to see Miss Tribbiani tense and alert, her weapon even more ready then usual. That, along with the growling of Argus, made her smile even more. No reason for this stranger to think that because women populated the decks of the Dog that it was in a weakened state. When the spanish officer stood before her, he bowed very properly, to which she returned a sharp, militaristic salute. "Welcome aboard The Watch Dog. I am Tudor Smith, Ship's Steward. I serve the captain directly. He would be here himself to welcome you but some important buisness needed his attention ashore." She explained with a quiet subtley. No good could come from having strangers know that one of their numbers was ill. "As it is, I am ranking officer for the present." He nodded, apparently content with the situation. "Now, sir, you have had my name, and I have had your captain's, but what is your's?" She asked with the smallest of grins. He responded with a similar expression. "I am Lieutenant De la Cruz. I am very pleased to make your aquaintence." He handed her the bottle he bore. "Well, well, this is quite a gift you bring." She said with arched brow as she inspected the label. "If you wish to follow me to the Ward room, Lieutenant, perhaps we shall open it and drink to our Captains' health." And so they adjourned below, Tudor leaving orders to be informed regularly of events on the deck. She motioned to one of the chairs around the table, inviting Lieutenant De la Cruz to sit as she uncorked the bottle and poured, handing him a large glass and pouring one for herself. "A toast to Captains Avendano and Brand." "To their health and Commands!" The Lieutenant raised his glass to hers, then took a long sip. Discreetly, so as not to make him aware of her intentions, she waited until he had first drank before she took a taste of her own. A lesson learned many years past; the bottle may apear as one thing, old and fine but any bottle can be refilled with a more leathal brew and recorked to look innocent. She sat down across from him, her stance casual as she continued to drink, enjoying the bouquet of the wine. "So, tell me Lieutenant De la Cruz, what brings you to my ship."

well, I am already formulating plans to kidnap my former roommate back, so what's a couple more years in the state pen. for abduction! Well, where is she in proximity to where the car pool is leaving? Cause if we just show up at her place, I mean, c'mon, who's going to say no to a van full of pirates.

*frantically waves hand in the air, standing on tip toe to reach even high with her raised hand* OOOHOOH!!! ME too!!!! Me TOOO! KIDNAP ME TOOOOOOO!!!!

Tudor continued to pace the decks, on the odd occasion pulling one of the powder monkies from their daily chores to run below and get her more dark coffee. After one such delivery, she decided to take her leisure with the warm brew, and leaned herself against the rail of the deck, resting the mug next to her, her narrow grey eyes taking in every detail. She was pleased with how smoothly everything was running, even with the chaos that had ensued with the trading merchants. But still, she could not take her mind off the man watching them from across the waters. She knew the lookouts were aloft and alert and would not miss even the slightest hint of hostility. But she wasn't sure if hostility was what this ship intended. And that precisely, the fact that she could not predicted their motives, is what made her uneasy. Casually she pulled out the small, rarely used spyglass attached to her belt and subtely scanned first the waves, then the shore, then the ship taking in it's size and firepower with the quickest of glances, and then she turned her gaze to the waves again. She wished she could take a long enough look at the man who stood on deck, to judge who and what he was, but that would arouse too much suspicion. And so she contened herself with organising strategies in her head of best courses of action if words of warning should come down from aloft.

Tudor paced the quaterdeck, unable to focus or hold still. She oversaw all the goings on of the ship, making sure all was in order. But she spoke to few, and even then only out of nessesity. Her face was a blank, an expressionless mask covering the torrent of emotions and thoughts that were running amok under the surface.

And to think, I went to go see it in march and couldn't cause it was closed for restoration . . . "the Cutty Sark Trust is appealing for funds to help repair the fire damage and complete the restoration" ~I say we take up a collection!

pinced this article from BBC news online "Blaze ravages historic Cutty Sark A fire which swept through the famous 19th Century ship Cutty Sark may have been started deliberately, police say. The vessel, which was undergoing a £25m restoration, is kept in a dry dock at Greenwich in south-east London. Police are analysing CCTV images which are thought to show people in the area shortly before the fire started. A Cutty Sark Trust spokesman said much of the ship had been removed for restoration and the damage could have been worse. Half the planking and the masts had been taken away as part of the project. See which parts of the ship were damaged Chris Livett, chairman of Cutty Sark Enterprises which is repairing the clipper, said at the scene: "From where I stand there is not a huge amount of damage to the planking that was left on. "There are pockets of charred planking and some have gone, but it doesn't look as bad as first envisaged." In Pictures: Cutty Sark fire 'History itself has been lost' The chief executive of the charitable Cutty Sark Trust, Richard Doughty, said: "What is special about Cutty Sark is the timbers, the iron frames that went to the South China Seas, and to think that that is threatened in any way is unbelievable, it's an unimaginable shock." Following an inspection of the site on Monday afternoon, Mr Doughty said: "Buckling of the hull remains a big fear but until we do the measurements we are not going to know. "With my naked eye, as far as I have been able to see, the structure of the ship seems to be intact." Insp Bruce Middlemiss said detectives were looking into the possibility that the fire had been started deliberately. Special history Firefighters were called to the scene at 0445 BST and the flames were put out by 0700 BST. An area around the 138-year-old tea clipper had to be evacuated during the blaze. "The cause of the fire is now under investigation by London Fire Brigade and the Metropolitan Police," a London Fire Brigade spokesman said. A number of witnesses have already come forward and the police are urging anyone else who may have been in the area to contact them. A silver car was seen leaving the scene but police said there is nothing at this stage to link it to the fire. CUTTY SARK Built in 1869 at Dumbarton on the River Clyde Designed by Hercules Linton First voyage February 1870 210ft (64m) long Main mast stood 152ft (46.3m) above the deck Has had 15 million visitors Preserved as a tribute to merchant navy workers Send us your comments Greenwich Council leader councillor Chris Roberts said: "This is a devastating blow for what is a truly iconic symbol of Greenwich across the world. "The Cutty Sark has a unique and special history, which helps to draw millions of visitors to Greenwich every year." The Cutty Sark left London on her maiden voyage on 16 February 1870, sailing around The Cape of Good Hope to Shanghai in three-and-a-half months. She made eight journeys to China as part of the tea trade until steam ships replaced sail on the high seas. The ship was later used for training naval cadets during World War II, and in 1951 was moored in London for the Festival of Britain. Shortly afterwards, she was acquired by the Cutty Sark Society. The ship was undergoing conservation work because sea salt had accelerated the corrosion of her iron framework. Dr Eric Kentley, curatorial consultant to the Cutty Sark Trust, said of the ship: "It can be saved. It's certainly not completely devastated. "We will put her back together - but it's going to take much, much longer and a lot more money than we originally thought." Visit London's chief executive James Bidwell said: "The ship's need for vital conservation has put it in the public eye recently and we can only hope that this terrible fire will redouble all our efforts to preserve this wonderful part of London's heritage." The Duke of Edinburgh is due to visit the Cutty Sark on Tuesday. Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell inspected the remains on Monday afternoon. The Cutty Sark Trust is appealing for funds to help repair the fire damage and complete the restoration."

h'okay . . . so . . . out at the fabric outlet yesterday and found some sturdy looking canvas at not to bad of a price (at least i think) but I need some advising. This stuff I found is refered to as "double-sided canvas". Good choice? yeah or nay? seems like it would hold up well to weather and the like but I know diddly about these things.

So okay, I am making my obsessive compulsive packing list, and I have the basics down alright - a couple pairs of slops, a couple skirts, shirts, shoes, ect (note to self - get sewing!) but what am I missing. I need to pack for all contingency. What am I missing? heeeelp!!

put aside some pretty ones for me to pick through. I am severvely deprived of any decent weapons!

I'd love to, but at this point it would have to be shot on my cell phone, and I somehow don't think that would quite work out too well