Silkie McDonough

Murin sat silently, Nathan at her side. The wind rushed through her hair tossing her curls. She loved being on the water. Closing her eyes she breathed in the ocean air, her mind drifted. The weight of the pouch that contained Ana’s earrings rested lightly on her chest, such a extravagant gift she had never dreamed of. She had been sitting in the surgery inspecting the beautiful stones set in gold for quite some time. Her intense focus on the pinkish glow and spark of the reflected light off of each was broken only when Monsieur Chanault returned to the surgery. He presented her with clothing that would better fit her and shoes, although worn and not fitted to her feet, that were an improvement from the boots that she had been wearing on the island. He then inquired as to what she may need and set out with some of her coin to procure some of the items. She changed her garments and soon the surgeons mate returned. She could not thank the man enough for his kindness and his efforts. It was soon after he left her with her new belongings that the ship dropped anchor. Murin went to her bunk and gathered the delicate handkerchief that Chanault had loaned her just two days ago. It was crumpled and in need of laundering but she felt there might be need of it before sunset, she folded it and tucked it around the sword belt, the lace edge on display. Tying the small pouch that contained the earrings to the shirt ties she dropped it inside the shirt. She responded to a gentle rapping on the door. Nathan’s friend Billy Flint and four others entered the surgery. It was time. She exited before the men and their burden. She located the Captain, Miss Smith and Nathan waiting at the rail and joined them just before descending into the boat where she now sat. The familiar call of a local birds overhead mourned the loss of the lady but the sunlight dancing brightly on the water would not allow Murin to mourn for long. Out here she felt alive, at home.

This one gets my vote!

Star Wars 30? That makes me ...? Starts counting on her toes ...then her fingers again then ...oh heck! That makes me FEEL old! My best friend at the time dubbed my first car "The Millennium Falcon. My brother-in-law, who usually did the repairs on it called it "The Millennium Turkey".

Well lad, sounds more like you are advertising rater den enjoyin d'drynk n'company. Perhaps ya should open yer purse wit dat there tingy and share a round wit us?

you talking to me? Bethelhem? All weekend. Renting a room. Competing in the song competition on Sunday ...wish me luck.

You might want to bring a sun lamp too.

“Tank ya sur” was all Murin managed before Mister Lasseter had turned to go. She stood silent, stunned, looking at the small pouch coin in her hand quizzically. After a few moments she pulled opened the pouch and carefully let the content roll into the palm of her right hand beside the gold coin. Jaw agape, eyes wide, she lifted her gaze from the gift in her hand to the back of the retreating QuarterMaster. “Sur, ah...” she closed her hand around the delicate earrings and started to advance. Nathan placed his hand on her forearm before she made a second step her attention turned to him before advancing further. “I kent…” Nathan shook his head sideways. “You can, and you should.” Such a gift for her from the friend she barely knew? “Buot I …” “You will refuse a gift from a friend?” His eyebrow raised, “Will you also oppose the Captain before you stitch your first sail or garment on the WatchDog?” Murin said nothing. Her hand again and her gaze shifted to the beautiful red stones lying within, she rolled one of the earrings over with the index finger of her injured hand. A vision of Ana, the earrings glinting in the sun beneath her chestnut locks, was brought to the front of her mind. They had been a gift to the lady from her betrothed, her childhood beloved, Johnathan. A Colonel in His Majesties Army. Another soldier doing his duty, blindly oppressing those who would opposed foreign rule. Her fist clenched around the cold metal and stone with the hardening of her heart. Her thoughts strayed to Aiden, gone three years now. Her own love, taken away in his prime. Her heart sank. "His heart will broken" she thought. Murin knew the pain of having lost the one friend that you hold so dear. She excused herself and quickly made her way to the surgery. Nathan did not stop her. Murin knocked at the door and entered without waiting, hoping that neither Chanault or Doctor Fitzgerald would be inside. Death hung in the room, sickly sweet but somehow she found more comfort in this room than on deck in the open. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her right hand clutched the treasures that had been bestowed upon her. A tear trickled down her cheek. “Mademoiselle McDonough?” It was Chanault. Murin wiped her eyes with the back of her bandaged hand, sniffed lightly and acknowledged the man. He held out his hand to the her. She accepted it and he lead her to a seat then excused himself. Murin sat there, her thoughts on Ana. She opened her hand to reveal the earrings and coin and emptied them onto the table. She lifted one of the jewels and pondered while absentmindedly wiping another tear from her cheek.

Celebrating my birthday. Ended up having an ex-boyfriend, that I wasn't talking to, take me out to dinner because I wasn't about to sit at home alone.

As much as I may want to attend it is not in the stars ...well, actually, it is not in the bank. I will be at PiP in November and doubt I will be able to swing the expense at that time.

My suggestion ...read a good bit, set yourself someplace around town and go from there. Perhaps I am not the best to say I have not posted on this thread but do post for the WatchDog. You could simply put yourself on a ship that has come into port or in the shadows of the tavern and wait. My final suggestion, talk to someone who knows because ...I have been wondering the same thing! ...not that I will have time to but I would like to participate.

What do YOU prefer? I, like the others here see you making the best of your feminine features but are you more comfortable in breeches or gowns? either could work and you can still appear feminine. Are you the type that likes things over stated or understated. Please whatever you choose, do share your decision with us and POST PHOTOS!

Murin watched the QuarterMaster depart and turned to Nathan who stood out of ear shot waiting respectfully, patiently, gazing at La Banquilla, straight and tall, his hands clasped behind his back, wind in hair, a contented smile on his face. She contemplated what right she had to request his presence on the burial boat. He had been so kind to her these past few days. Nathan made her feel at ease, he so reminded her of her brother Fionn. He turned to see her staring at him, a smile broke across his face. She smiled and returned to his side. "Tank ya." "Thank me? For what?" "Yer kindness." "It has been my pleasure lass" They paused looking over the water together. Simultaneously they turned to each other and began to speak. "Mister Lasseter..." "Is there a..." They laughed lightly, each diverting their eyes momentarily, and started in unison once more. "Please lass, you first." Nathan waited. "Mister Lasseter was informin mae of d'plans made for Lady Ana's burial. She's t'have a wotery grave." She explained the arrangements to Nathan "It is probably for the best lass." "Seems so unfair t'send her to d'depths from which she escaped, yet, I know tis not done lightly and will b'done wit respect." Silence fell between them as they continued to gaze over the water. "Mister Lasseter asked who I felt should be on d'cutter wit her." Nathan said nothing. "I had no opinion, I know I need to be there tis only respectful." "Aye." Murin continued, "Nathan?" she looked up at him. "Would ya please accompany mae when w'go out?" He bowed his head to her, "It would be an honor m'lady." They stood again, alone on the deck swarming with able bodied seamen, an easy silence embracing them in their individual thoughts. Murin broke the silence, "We need t'b'ready when we set anchor." yet she did not move from the rail.

"The Flying Dutchman" No, realy folks, I've been thinking on this and ...still nothing.

I think I adressed this earlier... Sorry, I hadn't been following the thread. I knew I wasn't going but since there had been so much activy on it I thought I would check it out. Heck, I'm from the Pittsburgh area. If I can deal with the months and months of gloom there I can deal with the wind in Chicago!

Silkie nods to Jacky and smiles wondering if False Ransom knows what she is doing ...or for that matter how safe is Jacky so close to that lass.

Well, I would like to take the opportunity to suggest PiP! ...Key West ...start of December ...warm sand, beautiful beaches Come on ...Chicago in February ...brrrrrrr Maybe next year.

I have decided to opt out of both this year. I will be in Bethlehem PA at the Celtic Classic. Wish me luck! I plan to compete in the song competition.

Silkie inspects Robbie from stem to stern fore deck to aft. After careful consideration she says, I declare dis vessel fit fer sailin!" As MerryDeath would say "Save a ship, ride a pirate!" All joking aside ...I do like ya a bit better now det I know wot ya b'sayin! Aye, language barriers! She drinks again from the flask and passes it to the next ...glad that the thing never seems to empty.

Aye, I wish you could have made it, mate. Don't be too hard on the lads here. This is a terrible medium for expressing one's opinion without stepping on a few toes. We'll have a moment of silence in your honor at the fort. ...and more than a few drinks ...even if we are drinking lemonade!

hot massage

The lass from clan McDonough enters the pub, surveys those in the pub as she walks to the bar and orders. "Drambuie, Ray, double" She takes the drink to a table near Lilly nods a hello and sits. "I believe the last we saw of 'your' Captain he was doing something with ducks." She winks and sips at her drink.

romantic notion

Falling debris? M'nil likin d'sound uv det luv! Silkie embraces her friend before he leaves hoping that wil be enough for now.

Murin’s, eyes locked with Mister Lasseters. She then slowly and deliberatly closed them. Once opened again they were focused on the tiny island. She had managed to put this business of burial out of her mind all to well. Burial at sea? She had thought they would bury Ana on La Banquilla, seemed a bit cruel to send her from whence she had been spared. Murin heaved a sigh. “Aye, et moust b’don. I need no time t’tink.” Murin paused and looked back from the Island where the two had lived. “Mister Lasseter,” she spoke candidly to the man “I may uv known er’best buot I did nay know er’well. We met not even a full day b'fore d'Apolla trew us n’t’da sea. We adn’t even spoken til we found ourselves workin t’geter fer survival. Taint like we were social. She wuz sailin t’England t’be married, had a locket wit a portrit uv her b’trothed det she kept close to her heart.” Murin paused briefly a look of concern passed over her face “Ana was sure someone would b’lookin fer’er. I took it as her way uv keepin ope alive buot dare could be trut tin it.” Lasseter nodded making a mental note concerning the locket. The possibility that there could be someone searching for the lady had previously been entertained and dismissed. Slim is the chance that that anyone looking could trace her to the WatchDog. Murin continued. “I ken nil say who should b’at d’ceremony, kent even say she wuz Christian." Murin looked again to the the island and the water between. "Course, I would needs b’dere. I’ve no otter opinion. I know she would be pleased ifin d’capain were t’be dere simply cause, well ...he is d'capin." Murin stated flatly Mister Lasseter nodded again and the lass may have caught a twinge of a grin of understanding flash across his face at that. "I'd b'happy ifin you were dere in his stead bout we nil even need an officer." She looked to the lad she had befriended. "N'Natan, ifin ya please." At that moment the ships Master-at-Arms' voice boomed across the weather deck at Mister Monahan. All on board held their breath and exhailed in unison once Mister Monahan spoke a clearly resentful 'No sah."

Bo! Silkie jumps to greet the wayward pyrate. (Is there any other kind of pyrate?) Glad am I t'see ya here buot wot talk uv not bein long to dis earth? She embraces her old friend kissing him lightly on the cheek then leads him to a table with many open seats knowing that many a pyrate will be wanting to share Bo's tales of life since his departure (not to mention to share in the draining of his two bottles of Ron Zacapa centenario) First a drynk! She uncorks a bottle hands it to Bo who takes a swig and then hands it back. Silkie in turn lifts the bottle T'good friends She drinks and passes the bottle back to Bo. Now, yer tale er'were ya serious det ya can't share d'tale in dis lifetime. She snickers at her own joke and takes another drink from the bottle that Bo has pass back to her once again.