Silkie McDonough

Silkie talked with little interest to the two lads in front of her glancing repeatedly to the two women at the bar. This didn't bode well for her. Either there had been no decision concerning her or they were avoiding delivering her the decision. Then again, if Ransom was upset could it be that Silkie had been voted on. Silly really to think she was all they had discussed. Well, better the devil you know than the devil you don't know. Silkie quaffed the last of her grog excused herself from present company rather abruptly and headed to the bar. She stepped into the space behind two women. "Ladies?"

Lass, tis nil d'place t'b'drawin a pistol. Silkie signals the others that it is alright and sound returns to the pub. Aye, yer Jacky's a ting o'beauty. M'Murdock ere is all I wont im t'be! Silkie pats the all steel pistol clipped to her belt.

Fáilte! Welcome lass! Tis a goode place uv found ere! Many a rogue and rascle t'b'found! Watch d'lads, each is more likely t'steal yer heart afore yer purse ...tis up t'you d'value uv each. D'lasses? Well, were a saucy bunch d'lot uv us Silkie raises her tankard and all around reply with a hearty "Aye" Each as beautiful as d'next ...I see yull fit right in! Silkie pauses, Looks ken be decivin. Wotch det ya ner cross a one uv us ...we have friends in low places. Silkie winks at the lass. Now, det handsom man b'hind d'bar is Ray. he's d one ya gots t'treat d'best. Fer he's the propriter uv dis establishment. Treat im well n' all's well!

Turning point. A new direction. I have gone as far as I can in that life and I am now taking a new journy.

She turned to the voice and a devilish grin was flashed at the person standing by her elbow when the door opened abruptly and slammed shut shaking the timbers of the pub. False Ransom knew how to make an enterance! As Silkie turned back to speak the stranger was gone. Silkie scanned the crowded pub with no success. She sat again. Watched as Captain Ransom headed directly to the bar, not their table, downed a shot and ordered another. Things didn't look good.

Friggin cold

I say we take a vote between Morning Star and Solstice. I prefer Solstice and if the vote is between only the two, results may be different ...remember Solstice was a recent add to the mix. I say a two masted sloop. Fits the publice image of a pirate ship better. ....one mast for esch solstice!

Aye, all I have to offer is moral support and that they can have copious amounts of! Hope all remains "well".

sol·stice –noun 1. Astronomy. a. either of the two times a year when the sun is at its greatest distance from the celestial equator: about June 21, when the sun reaches its northernmost point on the celestial sphere, or about December 22, when it reaches its southernmost point. Compare summer solstice, winter solstice. b. either of the two points in the ecliptic farthest from the equator. 2. a furthest or culminating point; a turning point. [Origin: 1200–50; < ME < OF < L sōlstitium, equiv. to sōl sun + -stit-, comb. form of stat-, var. s. of sistere to make stand (see stand) + -ium -ium; see -ice)]

Just the coat and some leggins

^ is very much missed by a good friend

I wouldn't change my choices but I do like Solstice better than Morning Star

^knows the songs I needs to learn HELP! ...please

Laughter at a funeral aren't so bad. I tink o'd one layin dear n'I asks m'self "Would dat person ave laughed at dis?" Each time I finds d'answer t'be a resoundin YES! Ifin it don't bother dem den why sould anyone else care!

Silkie sat inside the pub, the air, warm and heavy, lulled her into a comfortable lethargic mood. She needed sleep; she found rest far too seldom these days. What she needed was a change of scenery and a bit of adventure. She could not stay in one place for long, the tide called her. The sea was a part of the lass and she, part of the sea. She drank again from her grog her eyes slowly fluttered close. To be working again, a new adventure ahead. The corners of her mouth curled up. Miss McDonough began to wonder about the team that was forming. Would Ransom or Jacky be captain? Would the other be their second? She knew Jenny well enough, smart lass. Thinking on the large man with the blue eyes and dark hair found often at Jenny's elbow, she thought, this Roberts fellow could be a bit of fun also. She had seen Jane in the pub many times but had chatted only in passing, the lass knew how to have a good time but Silkie had not a clue how she was on board or how she would handle herself under pressure. Jane seemed to be intelligent and able enough to hold her own against anyone who may have issue with her. Besides, Silkie couldn't imagine Ransom or Jacky compromising an entire expedition with one who was not suitable. Her eyes opened wide in a flash of recognition! Good lord! These people don't know me at all! I am the fun loving flirt! Her smile had faded she leaned forward blinking in disbelief staring at the table in front of her. Her impetuous and impulsive reputation could easily be perceived as her Achilles heel! Silkie looked up at the door. What was taking so long? She wanted to join them outside but fought THAT impulse. “Ef dey won’t mae in d’party dey’ll come fer mae.” She swallowed hard, stared at the grog in her tankard, drummed her fingers on the table and waited an eternity before looking to the door again. She needed to be out on the water! Sighing she tried to relax, and began to hum a saucy little tune. It wasn’t working. Still humming and drumming she closed her eyes to the liquid in the bottom of her tankard. Suddenly she halted becoming aware eyes upon her. Opening her eyes with a start she looked first to the door, no one stood there. She scanned the pub. She was among friends here her back covered from every corner. Her intuition never failed her. She scanned the crowd again. Someone had their eye on her. “Miss McDonough.” A vague recollection of the heavily accented voice tugged at her memory. She turned slowly and made eye contact.

As if on cue Silkie pipes in Did I hear that we were going to sing?! Silkie says eyeing up the cake.

Murin had parted company with Mister Pew and headed to the berth deck to ready herself for her time ashore with Mister Pew. She washed as well as she could with what rags she had. Quickly changed from her slops and blood stained shirt into the only other clothing she had in her possession. The over sized shirt and breeches and brown waistcoat. The past few days sailing to Martinique had afforded her some time for herself. She had folded and tucked and pleated the waistcoat in a several places stitching them lightly to size the thing closer to her own. It would have to be altered once her hand was up to task. The effects of the folded extra fabric created a bulk that covered her feminine form making her look boyish. She had also pleated the waist of the breeches allowing her to walk freely without fear of losing them. The length was nearly to her ankle so she rolled them up to a more acceptable length over her shapely legs. Looking down past the poorly fitted clothing to her bare feet in the beat up shoes she thought. "I shall enjoy havin some new tings fer m'self." Once dressed she gathered what possessions she thought she would need on shore, tucked them in various safe places and headed above again. She stopped as she passed the looking glass to pull her tresses back and pinned them in place with a chipped tortes shell comb. Her face was no longer peeling from her burn. However, the sun kept her complexion ruddy. On his way past for more of the crates that were to be taken ashore Paul stopped abruptly after passing her and turned in disbelief. "Murin?! What are ye lookin like a lad for? " he paused sizing her up as he laughed lightly. "Stay here." He trotted further into the berth where the crew slept and came back just as quickly. In his hand he held a simple brown cocked hat. Placing it on her head he said "Now, you be safe thar lass." Murin smiled as he headed for the hold to retrieve another crate. Pulling the hat more tightly to her head she found that the it fit well over the hair she had piled on top of her head. Checking her self in the looking glass she was surprised by the curly topped lad starring back at her from beneath the hat. Moving on she headed amidship and waited for Mister Pew leaning against the rail watching the long boats in the water below. The hat helped tame the wild curls but still the strong breezes were just enough to pull one or two free time and again. Every so often one of the crew would glance by her then take a second look trying to place the lad, only to gain recognition after seeing the familiar motion of her tucking a curl behind her ear yet again. She would flash them a amused smile as recognition set in and they would continued on. She was enjoying the day and did not mind the wait. Mister Pew was speaking with the captain when he saw her there and signaled. Again she took note of the captain. He was dressed for business ashore, a satchel slung over his shoulder. The black frock coat suited him but as she looked at him she knew that she would like to make him another. Perhaps one of a moss green? Rust? ...OH! With the color of his eyes a brilliant blue would due nicely!

G'day t'ya lass. Wot good winds blowed ya in hear? Well, welcome an tanks fer m'rhum punch.

Been a pleasure spendin time ere wit ya in d'pub dees past few monts! Here's to a few more wit us lass! Glad yer ere! N'I m'usually allergic t'cats!

Silkie simply lifted her eyebrows, lifted both hands in surrender and shrugged without saying a word. Lifted her tankard to the lad then sipped at the grog inside.

And what reference have we for "Solstice"?

Okay. I slacked off for three days. Today I will recommit. 20 min walking before I can visit the pub after waking each evening. (Again, I work nights, sleep days.)

Dennis luv, That's a dictionary.

Silkie stood silent, waiting to hear the aye or nay vote from those who had not voiced it yet. She wanted to apologize to False Ransom for her error in assuming Roberts the second captain but held her tongue, any injury done would have to be addressed later. Her eyes shifted between the three women as she waited but she found her gaze wandering to Roberts. Was he familure to her?

Morning Star Solstice