Silkie McDonough

Nearly a full week of days has passed and none of the entertainment has returned! Colonel Walker, are you unable to attend because your pretty golden locks have been besieged by far too many bugs? Mr. Montoya, have the natives grown far too unruly? Have the clergy converted the natives? Or ...have you continued your search for the six fingered man who sunk your sheep on higher ground? Admiral Von Uber-Pirate, have you finally learned that your puny little dream of the master pirates is never going to come to fruition? My dear men, the crowds are getting restless, surely even you can come up with something glib for them?

Earlier aboard the Watch Dog - Surgery The bell had not tolled the first of the first dog watch when Nathan began to urge Murin to rest again. He was right, she was exhausted. Her emotional outburst was proof enough of that. He persisted for a short time until she finally gave in and went to the cot she had occupied the night before. She smiled inside, his demeanor reminded her of Fionn, her older brother, always watching over his "lil' lass", always sure to be at hand to protect her. Nathan tucked the blanket below Murins chin as Fionn had done until the day he married. After that he would still kiss her forehead and 'send' her off to bed each night even though Murin was a lass of seventeen by then. Nathan did not presume to kiss her forehead but she was warmed by his attention and the memory of her lost brother. A tear trickled across her temple and her mind continued to race. She had tried to sleep, but the sounds on the ship and the tension in the air kept her awake. She lay on the cot she had occupied earlier, the one at the feet of Ana's cot. Her thoughts continued to churn through events both recent and far past. Her eyes closed to the late afternoon sun. The ships bell had sounded thrice since she first laid down and still she was awake. She knew she needed the rest but could not find sleep. Finally, she rose, wrapped herself in her blanket and padded over to the Galley where she knew she would find Nathan. He said that he would be there if she needed anything. As she quietly entered the room Nathan stood and the cook smiled broadly at her. "I ken nay sleep." Her face expressing the forlorn nature of the statement. Nathan introduced the girl to the man who's domain she had just entered. "Murin McDonough, Lazarus Gage" The cook extended a welcoming hand to the lass and told her to sit. Mister Gage said little but in quick time produced a brew that he guaranteed would help Murin sleep. She chatted with the two men while she drank. Explaining what she and Ana had done to survive. She closed her eyes and paused, Ana hadn't survived. She found that Mister Gage had an extensive knowledge of fish and enjoyed sharing all manner of their preparation. Her knowledge was not as vast as his but she was pleased that she was able to hold her own in the conversation. The knowledge gained as youth in a fishing village proved useful. She listened to the men, interjecting what she could. Bly and Gage talked in hushed tone about the days activities. Shore parties and the missing Quartermaster, presumed dead. She had little to say. The man who saved her was a stranger to her. Her second day aboard the Watch Dog and she had seen little of her or her crew. Murin's mind wandered. Her head bobbed and she realized that Mister Gages brew had indeed begun to work. Her companions laughed lightly as she jerked awake for the third time. "Now, off to sleep with you", Nathan offered her his arm and escorted her back to the surgery. She would not argue this time.

Tis not the German det makes him a Nazi tis all bout his aditude I fear

Hmmm, war's d'colonel gone t'anyway? Should be here wit the rest of us characters! Silkie strides over to Tempest and Sterling. Ifin ya nil mind I'd like t'join ya fer da floor show. She pulls out a chair, gracefully lowers herself to sit and then produces the familure silver flask of pocheen. She takes a biig gulp and offers it to the others.

(New version of a previous post.) This was done in powerpoint but I figure if I want to do it in fabric it needs to be simple anyway! The 'patch' on the eye is a Celtic symbol known as a Triskel, is used to symbolize the cycles of life with in the three fold, or three spheres of influence in the material world. The three spheres (Land, Sea and Sky) represents the three aspects of the material world that are contained in every object. Each aspect ever flowing outward and always returning to the point from which it started. I may replace it with the 'Tipple Goddess' the three stages of womanhood, Maiden, Mother and Crone. This is the Tipple Goddess. Unless I have it all wrong problem is that it is used on Charmed and I would not be using it as a symbol of witchcraft ...which is how everyong sees it now. The sea lion is to represent Silkie (sealkie - sea folk) of Celtic legend, Orkney Islands and east coast of Ireland. The Skull is self explanatory ...besides, I had to have something pirate like in there! yes, the skull grayed a bit, I wanted the colors to stand out and they would not with a white skull. I may also reshape the eye socket.

Well said Blackjohn! Thank you William. Hurricain/Morgan, I do apologize for assuming the worst from pirates. I consider emptying a room of anything that was not nailed down stripping a room. You had not mentioned putting anything back in your original post. What was I to think? Please include all the information in your future posts, it will save the trouble dancing around while trying not to offend a fellow pub member. Now, If I understand you correctly, a true pirate is one because of his/her attitude towards life. That Gates, Jobs, etc are pirates and the remainder of their crews are not. In my humble opinion, There is a major flaw in that statement. There would have been far too many captains for the ships available and far too few crew to man them. Not all pirates were captains. I would venture an uneducated guess that the majority were not. Now, captains of industry are called that for a reason but what is a captain without a crew? He is an overworked individual on the verge of a breakdown or a heart attack ...or both! It also seems to me that a "true pirate", one who exemplifies the mind set, would not be concerned with trying to see the world see his as the only correct view. In fact I would think a true pirate would tend to the opposite. Who cares what the others think. "I am who I am and that's all that I am." Yea, I know, Popeye was a sailor not a pirate! To all, I have a very high regard for the stitch counters. I think they perform a great service for the remainder of us. It is their research and attention to detail that makes it possible for me to dress 'closs enough for stage' and still not appear a fool in polyester. My first garb is mostly linen (well poly cotton blend linen look ...I had it in the house), and the style is correct only because of the efforts of others and the information provided in Captain Twill. Now, with any luck at restraining myself, you will not hear from me on this subject again ....LOTS of luck!

This was the end of Beachem's original post. What the heck happened? Well a day and several posts later I can still say, with impunity, I am an entertainer. If you want more info about how I swing go to page 1 of this thread. So what about you ...where do you walk this faded, crooked often unperceivable line?

Have I seen this thread somewhere before??? It looks familiar... I know, I know, it's like discussing politics or religion, just not something you do in public!

Again I am moved to post from work! What’s with all the hostility! What's with running everyone through here at the pub? Can't you all just sit back and laugh a bit? Has the man done any harm? Jack is tied to a dish rack! ...Excuse me, a dish rack is tied to Jack ...I don't know but I find that rather humorous. His method of torture ...the Hot Tub and the Dating Game? Don’t you see the irony? Pleeeeeeease! Get real, this guy is funny! Let him do his stick!

I have always questioned destructive behavior. Guess that is what separates ...many. Someone tore apart a section of fence in my back yard a few years ago, IMMATURE teen boys I think, I hadn't done anything to deserve it but I had to pay to replace the section of the fence. Guess the hotel had to replace the missing items ...what the heck, they can afford it, the rental is only to line the owners pockets. They don't use it to pay the laundry bills, electricity, cleaning crews, workers who maintain the property, management, desk clerks, bell hops, insurance, ....WAIT! ... INSURANCE ...that explains it all! ...that is what justifies such behavior ...it's insured! that is why they have insurance! I get it. So the insurance premium goes up and the hotel rates go up and the rest of us have to pay for your good time. Okay, I see. Lucky for me I have never rented a hotel in Seattle. I have rented at hotel chains so ...hey, it does effect me. So, because a person got away with being a hoodlum in his youth he is permited to be a 'born again, piratier than thou, snob?

...or spent too much time on the rack? ...wait, that isn't period!

I was thinking that myself but then it occured to me that he may be standing on something. If he isn't he has VERY long legs and a VERY short waist!

Silkie picks up the two flaggons of rum she has recently paid for , takes Jack by the arm and sets him at the nearest clean table. Now tars a good pirate. Knowing better than to sit on his lap she sits beside him and offers a toast. T'Capn' Sterlin'!

Now there is some questionable garb! As you pointed out many of the benefits of a pirate were had by people holding down jobs. Hmmmm, still not pirates. Cops who let you strip down a hotel room ...why would anyone strip down a hotel room? Just curious. It has never been on my to do list.

I was thinking Rock band until I read "we blasted off cannon, flintlocks and other weapons on city streets and did pretty much anything we wanted to, including halting traffic at will, chasing children with sharp swords and kidnapping politicians and celebrities, sometimes not giving them back for a week or longer. We burned ships in the harbor, broke up bars with our swords" I do not know of any place where this would be aceptable in the free world so please do tell me, where?

Jack, I'd like t'offer ya a drink afore ya leave here, and one for you Rumba! Ignoring the now injured Montoya. Twas indeed kind o'ya t'defend me like that! I've an extra bit o'rum here ifin ya care t' drink wit mae. Um, excuse me Captain Sterling. I think you misunderstood ...you ARE Juan ...as in the first to hang ...number juan ...the Spanish looses something in translation. Joaquin and his last name Andamun are part of some joke that Montoya seems to find funny. It was lost on me.

Jack, twas sweet uv ya t'defend us ladies so. Silkie finds herself opposite a now injured Montoya. She steps away from him and reveals to Jack alone the stiletto consealed in the her hand. I assure you lad, I was ner in any danger.

She takes his extended hand and pulls herself close again. Mister Montoya, I'ave no use fer sheep oter dan wool. Ifin yer sheep sank twas from the weight of wet wool! Why would ya b'puttin a sheep afloat? As to being tied up and enjoying myself wot makes ya tink det I would enjoy det? ...I barely know you! Silkie steps close again, she begins to twirl the lock of his dark hair that cascades over his shoulder between her fingers. Wot reason ev I given ya t'restrain me? I'm moch more enjoyable ifin I'm free t'move about!

So "dreck" is an opinion and "anal" is an insult? Beachem did not say anal was a bad thing. i am a perfectionist at some things and take pride in the fact that at times I have been considered anal about them. What Beachem is saying is that those who are stitch counters should not look down their noses at those of us who are not. Many of us are making an honest effort but the hand stitching is not what is important, it is the knowledge that we can share. Kass is a good example of what this is all about. She KNOWS her stuff, many of us go to her for advice but she does not withhold said advice if you do not promise to hand stitch your garment. Some of us have fun with the theatrics, some with the history. I have no head for history, never have but I can entertain like nobody's business. Does that make me less valuable as a participant? Just because I do not say that my pistol is not accurate when I introduce myself does not mean that I am not aware of the fact. Do not assume that I am a fool untill I have proven it!

Well, lets see ...I'm a female pirate and don't keep that fact hidden ...I'm thinking ...INTERPRETIVE ACTOR (singer)! I'm still new at this. I have learned that there are very few questions that can be asked about the subject of piracy that do not have several and often ambiguous answers. The way I look at it is this: I'm a creative individual, if I can make it by hand and all of the materials and equipment needed to make it were available during the GAoP then it could have existed. That is not to say that I hand stitch, I do wish to take the time nor do I have the inclination to do so. If the fabric looks right, breaths right and is cheaper than the original, I'll use it. Nor am I above the use of hot glue or nylon thread ...or staples for that matter. I will not be caring a blade that I intend to use to slice an opponent with. My flintlock may yet be a non working replica though friends strongly urge me to purchase a functioning one. Additionally, if I do have a functioning one I will never be pointing it fully loaded at a human being. I drink rum only on occasion, I have access to clean water, I don't need to pollute my body any more than I already do. I have never been to Barbados, or any Island for that matter. I have never sailed across the ocean let alone on a tall ship. I have never in my life picked a pocket, thrown a belaying pin, climbed rigging, shot a flintlock, ate a ships biscuit, suffered survey, swabbed the deck, loaded a cannon, buried treasure, used the 'head', rowed a boat over ocean waters to shore, spent months at sea, or been part of a hostile take over (not even a corporate one). So you see, I will NEVER be a pirate. I could be a reinactor if I chose to but for me that would take away from some of the fun. So here I sit, in front of my sewing machine sewing my polycotton blend ...or is it ...learning sea shanties. I type on a computer and meet other pirates, some I learn from some I have fun with ...life is good.

Silkie looks to Captain Sterling. Ya know, ifin ya make det noose jest right i'tll be o'r b'fore it's begun. It jest occured t'me, n'ya ken blame dis'n on d'rater punny Mr. Montoya, yer a British subject aren't ya? ...thet makes ya British Sterling! :) She turn back to Montoya with new intent Indigo d'ja say? Mmmmmm, a rich dark color! She places her body intimatly close to his. A man of such power Her hand gently strokes his goateed chin. Y'ave a very commandin' presence, while the other hand deftly lifts his coin laidened purse I nay often offer t'buy a stranger a drink, but I ken nil deny m'self d'pleasure dis time. Would ya consent t'lettin m'buy ya a pint? The hand that pinched his pouch darts into her pocket as she then produces her own coin pouch. Opening it she produces coin for two rums and a nice tip. Ray m'man, two dark rums fer mae t'share wit this handsom devil! The corners of her full lips turn up into a soft smile. she looks up into Indigo's dark spanish eyes her bright hazels reflecting nothing but innocence.

Well, since I nil ave n'eye patch n'I'm nay a pirate I'm guessin I'm in no danger. Silkie walks up to the newcomer steps on the smouldering butt of his cigarillo and twists it into the floor boards. Wooden floors, ya need t'b more careful round here. We nay wont Ray t'b needin t'relocate! She takes a swig from her tankard. Her eyes examining the stranger the entire time.

The Princess Bride

So, I saw the title of this thread and didn't read the thread because I didn't want to spoil it for myself. I waited ....and waited ...for an eternity to see that little bit at the end. and then ...soooooo disappointing. That is something that I assumed was going to happen without the visuals. Lessons learned.

Earlier in the Surgery Murin felt Nathan's apprehension before she was aware of the additional person in the room. She did not look to see who was there when Bill Flint had come in. She thought fleetingly that it would be proper to break from Nathan's now comforting embrace but was loath to move. This was all she had, this moment with this stranger who was both oppressor and champion. Nathan held the young woman in his arms, rocking her with the ships sway. The vivacious lass he had spent the morning with was, this afternoon, a broken child. He too had once experienced similar pain at the hands of the French and in battle. He knew all to well what damage such experiences cause. The door had opened again and soon Murin heard the hushed voices of others in the room. She straightened herself and stepped back from Nathan feeling a bit embarrassed. She sniffled "I'm surry, I..." she stammered as she looked up into his concerned gaze, "...ah, ...tank ya." was all she could muster before being compelled to quickly divert her eyes to the damp crumpled linen square in her hand. Murin turned towards the others in the ward just as Captain Brand was lifting Ana's lifeless body from the cot. She froze there, numb, she had not seen Aidan carried from the gallows. She could feel Nathan's presence behind her. How easy it would be to turn back and nuzzle enfolded in his arms. No. She sniffled once again, wiped her eyes, set her shoulders and took a deep breath as Ana was carried from the room.