Capt. Sterling

^ Sterling silver Islamic prayer bead with tassel, "stolen" from owners whilst in Algiers. Long braid blond lock of daughter, left behind in London, and Lesser George on blue silk ribbon < I have to agree with William... it is the icing on the cake V What piece of GAoP persona detail still evades you... (no ships please)

^ horses and fencing < have found I have lost too much weight and not wearing a sword all day... my old breeches were a bit too big... V passing favorite little detail of kit question

^ ummmm < heh, heh, heh V pass the question along... money or happiness?

couldn't have picked a better place for a few fistacuffs...

^ who me? NEVER! < ahem... V rebel or follow the rules?

^ fold then stuff... snigger < Well it was supposed to be wacky tacky day.. i.e, wear yer worst mixed up outfit... but we decided to rebel in the fifth grade and declared it dress like a pyrate day! Boy am I gonna be in trouble! V how long can you stay organized?

^ books, books, and books, sketches, more books, pc hats, more books, sewing, oh and did I mention books? < oh photos of the crewe as well V is your office big enough?

^ currently collecting poison ivy medications... midshipman #2 is COVERED in it.... < Oh the joys of springtime in the country... sigh V Passing the question along

rental

^Always, no one truly knows me, even the FBH only thinks so... < Captain's going to school tomorrow in full kit! V Favorite place in the home to hang out?

The darkness was not enough outside the Royal Grace and the noise caused by the Scots had quicly turned all passing eyes on the building. As Sterling shot out into the night air, he knew he could not continue running and not be noticed. He forced himself to a walk, lowered his head, hunched his shoulders and, hunkering downward, tried to stroll as casually as possible. He nearly leapt out of his skin as a sergeant's whistle shrilled. A new problem now presented itself, Sterling did not know which way to turn. The Archangel was out of the question and the last thing he wished to do was bring redcoats raining down about his pregnant wife by hoping she could spirit him away. And by his brother-in-law's behaviour, Sterling was all too convinced Sabastian would only be too happy to turn him over to the guard himself. All because he had not done as Devareaux had insisted. Damnation, all had gone well until Sabastian had moved Aurore without word. Thoughts turning rapidly, he concluded he had only one choice and hoped Nelly Greene would still be waiting. "You there! John Sterling!" Sterling bit down on lower lip, forcing himself to continue on, hoping he had done nothing to look as if he had broken stride. Pace was made steady, head still lowered, he could not allow himself to look at who was now running toward him. Not until another man's hand seized his shoulder and wheeled him about, did he stop, turning the left side of his face away. "Sorry sir," Sterling grunted, keeping his voice low and avoiding eye contact. "Why did you not stop when I addressed you?" the young officer asked as he came through the wave of red coated soldiers before him. Sterling shifted, turning further away from proper view. "Me, sir? Did not know ye were talkin to me," he answered. "Tell me your name and be quick about...." "Oh enough of this nonsense!" Pinon thundered as he came up behind Sterling, grabbed a fistful of the captain's own hair and jerked his head about. "This is the man! What the bloody hell are you waiting for? Arrest him!" The officer's eyes narrowed at Pinon's humiliating treatment. He grabbed Sterling by the chin and turned his face to survey the wound to the left side. "Are you John Sterling, Captain of the Archangel?" "And if I were?" Sterling countered. "Damn it all! He is and if you do not carry out your duty, I swear, he will not be the only one on trial!" Pinon warned. Sterling's jaw was quickly released as the officer stepped aside. Musket butt rapidly thrust forward and collided with Sterling's middle. He crumbled to one knee with a groan. Again his head was jerked up by his hair. "John Sterling, I arrest you, in the name of his majesty the King for the crimes of pyracy and murder," the officer announced. "Tis about bloody time!" Pinon muttered. "Pyracy?" Sterling asked, astonished. "This is a mistake!" Several soldiers stepped forward and grabbed him by the arms. Another, laden with irons approached. "I am telling you this is a mistake!" "And is the murder of the overseer of the Trade Winds plantation also a mistake?" Pinon asked. It was then Sterling faltered, as if the wind had been knocked out of him a second time by musket strike. The final accusation had frozen him, allowing irons to be locked in place and pockets searched for any form of weapon. Pinon only smiled briefly before features set angrily once again. "Get him out of here!" Pinon ordered the British officer. "And see that the rest of my instructions are followed out properly. Any further problems and I guarantee there shall be hell to pay!"

^ lately seems to be my bad side... hmmmm... as to public speaking have to be < how do I get a copy of this list Chole? I am quite certain I will be in desparate need of it... V favorite way of communicating?

bat out of

^ when I'm drunk? hmmm usually don't remember... < numb... think I'm beginning to like feeling this way... also kind of like being called vicious and confrontational.... very piratey... daughter just won award at her violin concert... V like people?

“’Ere now, what does a man ‘ave to do to get 'is supper in this place?!” Sterling shouted at the wench that entered the warming kitchen at almost the same time but from the common room. He had skidded to a halt as a half dozen pair of eyes had focused on his abrupt entrance. “Just be patient!” the girl bellowed back at him, then did a double take in his direction. “And who the bloody hell might you be? Coming in my kitchen and making high and mighty demands?” Sterling took one step backwards in retreat, finally locating the outer door. “Um, a disgruntled patron who ordered his meal an hour ago?” he muttered. "A disgruntled what?" the woman asked. Sterling shook his head. "The partridge...the partridge, where is it?" "Partridge?! We don't bloody well have partridge in Jamaica!" the girl blasted. “Damnation,” Sterling grumbled as red coats suddenly began to take more interest. Another step was taken. Then he halted as a corporal entered the kitchen. The man’s eyes darted about the room, then settled on the new addition. In an instant this pair of eyes widened and as hand came up to point at Sterling, the man shouted, “Tis him! He’s the one we’ve been looking for!” "Alright boys, let's have at em!" came a loud yell from the common room as seven Scotsmen dove thru the front door of the Royal Grace and launched a spirited attack. Sterling took advantage of the surprise turn of events and bolted for the rear door, upsetting a work table behind him in the hopes of causing a delay, and was nearly bowled over onto the floor as the back door burst open. If it had not been for knowing Andrew March, Sterling may never have recognized the Scottish battle cry as a horde of angry hornets swarmed into the already confined kitchen from both entrances. “Captain Sterling, Hamish MaCraige at yer service. Best head out the back,” the other captain suggested above the din. “Much obliged,” Sterling said as path was cleared amongst the warring parties and he set a course for what he hoped would be safety.

Sterling had entered the far chamber, handkerchief balled up in his fist, that now came to rest, hidden behind him, against the small of his back. The room was dimly lit and as always, it took him a moment to adjust. His gaze though quickly came to the bed that had obviously been used. He then looked to wife, standing about in some unknown's shirt, which, also, obviously, was not her own. Oh there were hundreds of questions pressing him to be asked, but they suddenly did not seem to be of importance, as each was buried by the one thought, what did it really matter? He was completely numb inside, he could not even sense the least bit of anger when he tried to fathom why she had abandoned the Shea house and disappeared, without word, with his child. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and for the first time in his life, felt absolutely ... ...nothing. So he waited for her to speak but the opportunity never came as March suddenly entered the room and grabbed him. Pushing him hastily toward the exit with instructions to flee, Sterling quickly understood what had happened and with all due speed made his way down the back stairs, ending up not outside but in a warming kitchen, overflowing with too many men dressed in red.

It was not much longer before Sterling vacated hallway and returned within, closing door behind him. Aside from flushed skin, his features were composed save for rapid glance toward first officer of forlorn hope. March gave gentle nod of head indicating where Aurore had gone then turned and focused his attention on Ransom and the brandy decanter still close at hand, after all it was better than nothing.

"Tis brandy," Sterling pointed out. "You don't like brandy." "Neither do ye," March added with a grin. He straightened, passing one hand over his own jaw. "Has it stopped yet?" he asked. Sterling shook his head. "Tis not as bad though," he answered. March nodded in understanding. "Clean yerself up. And once ye have worked things out with yer wife, ye will do as the doctor says as well," he added, then reentered the room before disgruntled frown could be cast his way. He looked across at brother and sister. "The captain wishes to take ye up on speaking with his lady alone," March announced. "Perhaps Mistress Sterling should go ahead of him, he'll be a minute or so more."

^ Nope and never intend to do so purposely... < have an "adopted" brother who used to test parachutes but would not ride in NY cab... how does one test a parachute?? V Merry go round or latest roller coaster?

"Andrew March," the first officer replied. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have laughed as well. Taking the glass, he dipped his head in thanks then carefully pressed it into Sterling's keeping. "Drink this will ye?" March insisted. "Why? What is the point?" Sterling coughed. "The point is ye love this woman and therefore it does not matter what any of the rest of us say. All that matters is what passes between ye both. Tis time to forget about everyone else and do what is right by each other," March said. "Ye never treated Tess like some fragile thing that could not fend for herself. Ignore her brother and go talk to her after all ye married her not him! He gave her away at the wedding, he no longer has any true say in the matter. Here now, finish that drink or pass it over to me," March added with a huff.

March leaned back to peer into room. As eyes focused upon Devareaux's Lover, he called, "A glass... water, anything...something to drink, if ye please."

March rose and quickly followed to find Sterling doubled over, one hand cast upon the wall to steady himself. Linen handkerchief rapidly stained bright red as it was held to Sterling’s nose. “For God’s sake, John. Ye have got to calm yerself!” March whispered in warning. “Go back inside!” Sterling ordered. “I do not wish her to see me this way.”

Sterling paused before the door, hand fishing frantically within coat pocket. He dared not turn and face his accusers now. Stained linen was finally found and seized upon, then brought to obscured face. “My wife means far more to me than the child and yet, I am not willing to lose either. A moment, please,” he called back over his shoulder. As mind raced with thoughts of who had abandoned whom, he grasped handle and fled into the shadows of the hallway.

First officer continued to wait on captain's wife, as the two other men, worked hard to control their tempers and their tongues. It was Sterling who finally rose from the table and made for the door to the hallway. "John, wait!" March called after him.

March listened intently as Devareaux spoke. He waited until the other man was interupted by the woman in question. Sterling leaned closer to companion and whispered, "All I asked is that Aurore and the child be looked after. I never said I would not send for her." First Officer nodded, then sat back to wait further.