Pew

I think beating around the bush and a traipse straight through it is necessary to clear the air for those of us unfamiliar to the story. Please. I'll buy this round. Cap'n Brand:

Any coffee brewing about? I can see that our proprietor is clearly entwined with bales, monkeys, a priest, and a Frog, which may or may not be a Frenchman. I'll grill up a few bacon and egg biscuits in the kitchen. Coffee?

:shakes head: Another pint while the conversation lulls please.

After a day of bashing the lads, a good quiet repose is in order. William runs a fine genteel establishment. Rum anyone? I found a fine vintage perfect for sipping. Or of course, a large tankard of 'what's out back.'

Well hello Petee. Very long time no see. . .

Delicious. A fine Chianti perhaps.

Preston made his way to the door of the ward room. With a breath he swept open the door. Those officers at the table looked up, surprised at his quick return. "Captain, she's not do'n well. Mayhaps ano'er couple hours."

Captain, those 'strange, distilled drinks' are what keeps me locked to this haunt. Leave the dust, the settled ages. We shall imbibe for those long lost. I miss them so.

Excellent. Fine conversation I have not had in awhile. I'd like to see him. If you don't mind, I'd like to raid the stores for some vintage of non-descript liquor. Much to talk about in the last months.

Very well. Suicide-by-sautee', as it were. Delicious. Any word from Dorian as of late?

Liam nudged Preston aside and dropped the pile in a heap on the deck within John's reach. Preston stepped well out of the way, but tried to gauge his eye on the work. Impossible to see, but for the fact that the ship's carpenter was under water. 'Not well 't all,' Preston remarked to himself. He watched for a moment longer and then made his way back to the ward room. Despite the crew's best efforts, the Lucy was sinking fast.

A quiet din will suffice well. A fine cask aged Ale my good sir.

Sláinte! L'chaim! Cheers!

"Ah! M' lady! Tis been awhile. I have travelled far and wide in the last several months." I inhaled deeply and looked about. "There is nothing like the sounds and smells of your own haunts. Have the regulars moved on? Any word from the Captain? I have not seen nor heard from Mister Lasseter in quite some time. Far thee well?"

Diego's first post about the WD was back in '05. Wow. Just doing a bit of old dredging and found that interesting. Some six years ago . . .

Welcome. You've found the right place to pick and pull at your whim.

Preston had gone below on Dorian's order to see what of the cargo remained aboard and for a report of the repairs. A simple nod and he withdrew himself of careful planning. He slipped among the men crowded below. Hand over hand of necessities made their way aft and above to be stowed upon the 'Dog. The deck below looked eerily empty as Preston made his way forward to the damage. While he had not known the precise spot, the calls from the ship's carpenters and sufficient banging led him easily. "How goes it?" he called.

::The cobwebs and dimly lit room play havoc on my senses. Is this the same celebratory hall of feasting and drink some nine months prior? Peering deeper past the tables and stools I can see the candles have long been extinguished but still smell of beeswax. Upturned tankards and Jenny's neatly folded apron alight atop the bar itself. "Hullo?" I called raspily with a voice I recognize as unfamiliar as the place I am in. "Hullo?" I sit gingerly on one of the previously polished stools and take in the scene. "Hullo," I call once more.::

Or, just use one post to include all three ideas . . .

We used to imbibe with apple pie shooters: Apple juice, vodka, and a topping of whipped cream.

Fireballs. Grenadoes. Red Wake . . . (liberties to go William on this one)

Welcome! A fine glass raised to you!

Lagunitas Little Sumpin' ale

Keel-hauling, I might live through it. Bo'sun or Cox'un?

The rain had let up just so that one was able to squint through the deluge to see the approaching frigate and not have the drops sting so viciously in the eyes. A call above the din had those on deck glance ahead of the bow. Even in the dark of night, the crew could see due east, less black on the horizon. Preston stood at Dorian's side and watched as the Watch Dog slowly came into view. He elbowed the Captain and pointed across the sea. Dorian nodded. "Y' hear somethin'?" Preston called to Dorian over the crash of waves against the ship's side. Both men leaned perilously close over the rail. "William?" "Aye," replied Captain Lasseter. ~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ Navigation Log of the Lucy: Direction: E, ship on the wind, making stern-way with her nose into the wind Speed: 6 knots steady, into the wind, mounting sea, 4m high with foaming crests Wind: Near gale conditions, from the ESE