Tudor MercWench Smith

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

Tudor hesitated, standing under the shade, fighting the urge to turn back in her anger. "I had no direct orders to go back to the ship, SIR," She grumbled to the air, not able to bring herself to go back and show such an attitude to her officer. Enough had been said. "So I remained." She said, in a whisper to herself. Taking a deep sigh she moved on, discreetly looking over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner, seeing Pew and Eric, laughing and shaking their heads, no doubt at her expense, making her even angrier. She walked along the crowded lanes, watching the people, her thoughts stewing silently. As she walked she noticed the signs of the diffrent shops. She stopped in many, causing curious glances in each as she racked up large bills in each, paying for all without flinching at the gold she parted with out of her pocket, leaving directions for the miscellaneous packages of fabrics, leather goods and books to be sent onto the wharf to be taken on to the ship on the longboat with Pew's contraband. After leaving the gunsmith's where she had some trivial damage to her pistols seen too and looking at some new peices, she sauntered back onto the lane, feeling slightly less tense. A sign of the shop a few caught her eye and she made a beeline for it with a slightly mischevious smile on her face. "well, as I am to 'take my time in town', I shall." She went into the tavern, up to the barman and laying a gold coin down on the counter with a glint in her eye. "What have you by way of wines from Maidera?"

Tudor stalked through the crowds at the wharf, her eyes skitting around, taking in every face and form, looking for a certain familiar figure. It had been a trying time, the past several hours. Shortly after seeing the captain yesterday she seemed to have become all but invisible to the rest of the search party crew, always left to follow a few steps behind wherever they went, observing all the comings and goings. Eventually, upon the party's return to the tavern, she went to her own accomodations instead of drinking with the men, unwilling to sit bored while she could be catching up on much needed sleep. Her logic was, if they were ever going to accomplish anything, they needed to be alert and prepaired, and missing a few drinks and conversation might actually be of more use. Little had she known that their plans had not included stayin at the tavern they had stopped at, as they had many other evenings. When she rose shortly before the dawn, it was only to discover that they had not stayed, but had left after eating. With a grumbled oath, she started out to track them and spent the better part of the day making inquires and following their trail only to end up at the wharf. Finally she spotted them, seeing the Master-at-Arms, handing a coin to a young lad. Without hesitation, she bruskly pushed her way through the crowd, her swagger clearing a path, til she stood by the rest of her party. She snapped a salute. "Sir." She said tersly. "Reporting for duty, sir." She held her peace, not saying what she was seething with. It could be partially held as her fault for not waiting for orders last night, but she felt it was a moot point.

a dear lad of mine, when he got his liscence changed when he moved to Florida a couple of years ago had his curled pirate-y mustache. He showed me the liscense later when he moved home again. Very piratey, but not in the happy way . . .

The tavern was surging with activity, but there was hardly a move made that escaped Tudor's notice. No one came in or out with out her noting their looks, where they went in the room and how they acted. And while she was no where near letting her gaurd down, she felt confident and secure in that this was just like any other tavern and there was no immediet threat, and if there were it would be nothing that she and the rest of the search party could not handle. "Zees Tawny you zay. May he 'ave zee last name?" She reacted quickly to hear this response to the Master-at-arm's question from the corner of the turbulent room, her pistol waiting and ready by her side. She quirked an brow at the stranger's insistance that he meant no harm, but it had been her experience that anyone who held information of your enemies but held it like bait was usually up to no good. Her attentions were now focused on this man as Pew looked to Claude, and she was ready to move at a moment's notice.

Tudor stood aboard the decks with Jean, calmly discussing a list of errands. Her attention shifted from him sharply when a sudden splash and the boisterious laughter of several of the crew. Excusing herself from her conversation with her temporary assistant, she stode with purpose to the rail, where she saw one of the crew members bobbing in the water next to the hull of the ship. "What happened." She asked of the chuckling witnesses. "What do ya think miss? Ranst was to busy lookin' at the boat full o'ladies ta notice his balance as he sat on the rail." Woodington explained, shaking his head and chuckling. Tudor's mouth twisted in displeasure. "RANST!" She yelled down at the man who was now treading water and still oogling the women and cat calling to them. He looked up as he heard his name being angrily called. "Get up here NOW!" She ordered, her tone giving the only translation needed, leaving no room for question and with one final glance and blown kiss to the boat, he started to swim for the rigging. "Dorleac? Run and fetch Casteel to translate for me. When he found himself way onto the deck and shook off some of the water, Tudor was waiting for him. "And just what do you think you were playing at?" Her tone was chilled and more then slightly frightening. "Leaving the ship without leave? While on duty?" Her eyes never left him, her words directly adressed to Ranst even though they first went though Casteel. "He says t'was naught but an accident miss." The sheepish words were translated to her, Ranst trying to excuse his way out of trouble. "Tell me, would this 'accident' have happened if you had been seeing to you duties responsibly instead of shirking off and paying more attention to a bunch of whores that have been forbidden aboard." She stood not far from his face, her expression stoney. "Geen, ma'am." He hung his head. "I didn't think so." She glared at him. "Get back to work . . . now. You are now pulling a double watch." She said, upon which when was translated though to him, he was about to complain about, but quickly chose otherwise upon seeing the steel in her eyes. "And if you so much as even look in the direction of that boat again I will leave you to the captain for deriliction of duty." She warned with a pointed finger. "Well . . . what are you waiting for, get on with it." She nodded to him, then returned without pause to the instructions she was giving Jean before the interruption.

. . . I don't even know what to say - love and prayers to you through this, Snow . . . . I wish you and your boys peace during this time . . .

She grinned widely at him, taking the mug and lifting it to him in salute before taking a long swig. "What kind of weakling would I be if I couldn't handle tippling wine with women, aye" With that, she headed back for the Ward room calling her gratitude over her shoulder to Mr. Gage.

Tudor was getting a later start then usual, the party having lasted into the small hours of the morning. She wearily made her way to the ward room to clean up the last remains they had left behind. She squinted at the light the peaked through the cracks in the shutters over the window. Rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes, letting them become acclimated to the light, she started gathering up the last of the dishes to take down to the galley. She smiled as she remebered some of the higlights of the evening, everyone merry from the wine, some a few steps closer to intoxicated then others. But the evening was gossiped away, with plans for the shore. All had many plans for their leave, except Tudor herself, who did not make plans, but still she enjoyed sharing in the scheaming. Finally loaded down with all to be removed, Tudor made her way to the galley.

Tudor laughed at Siren's jest as she gracefully moved around the table filling wine glasses for the ladies that had just arrived. "Indeed," Concurred, a hint of silent mischeif in her eyes. Slowly, one by one, all those able to attend filtered in and were given drink as they took their seats at the well set table. Tudor easily slipped into the role hostess, orechesterating conversation and keeping the mood celebratory and though she only wore her worn shirt and red petticoat, she leant the common clothes an unspoken elgance with movement and manners. Soon, laughter and light chat filled the room and Tudor stood in front of her chair and lightly tapped on her glass, seeking the attention of the room. "Ladies," The hum of noise lowered to silence, and Tudor raised her glass. "A toast if I may." She paused to let everyone raise their goblets. "First to the Captain, who's kind manner and generous nature has given us this lovely little fete." There were some nods of agreement. "Secondly, to the Chef, Mister Gage, who's expertese has seen us well fed these past weeks and who's incredible talent will have us dining like princesses tonight." Hearty "here heres!" were mummered. "And finally - to us. We serve on a fine crew, lasses, and we are an elite amongst ourselves. Not often will you see women of such strength and merit, who have been bold and brave enough to gouge out a place for themselves in a world dominated by men. To our strength, to our ability and talents. To the women of the Watch Dog!" Cheers and the clinking of glasses echoed her. "And here is too a fine time ashore and a fine meal ahead of us!" she sat down, and with that, they begain to eat.