Jacky Tar

I know that you'd care to tell me?"

I snuggle into Jacky's coat, take another breath of clean sea air, and let him lead me where he will.

"I sail on a brig, 'Relentless', which is rigged like a snow. I do not sail under a black flag, but am often accused of smart practice. I do enjoy good food and drink, as ye know."

"Be careful, Dearie....you may not wake up with him by your side...but you may find a dagger in your back!"

An aside to Miss St. Claire, "If any harm comes t' Ransom, I'll hold ye accountable and will use any means to make sure ye live out yer remainin' days alone, old and in poverty."

I wasn't sure where to post this and figured since it pertains directly to me my introduction thread would be the most apropriate.

I attended the Celtic Classic in Bethlehem Pa this weekend. On Sunday I competed in the Shanos/Traditional singing competetion.

I won FIRST prize!!!!

50 bucks, and a chance to sing center stage in the Grand Pavillion!

Aditionally I recieved personal recognition from a paid performers that I have respect for. he said as I left the stage, "It is obvious why you won."

Yippie for me!

"Good on ye, Silkie!"

I take Jacky's arm. "It's a long way to where my ship is birthed. What shall we talk about?"

Jacky is surprised Ransom took his arm, for the moment he feels like a gentleman, again. "I've heard tell ye captain yer own ship, thar be a startin' point."

  "No, not bears. I think it was two cats!"

"Cats only scare away mice. If he's a real man he'll be back."

Takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh smell of the water after the stuffy, booze-fumed air of the Pub. "So, where shall we walk?"

"I should walk ye t' yer ship. I wouldn't want yer back unguarded, if Tess were t' send an avenger. Life is cheap t' some, and yers is precious t' me. I hope I haven't thrown ye and Striker into harms way. I thought Miss St. Claire was just puttin' on airs."

I adjust the heavy coat around my shoulders. It smells vaguely of tobacco smoke, boat tar, rum, and the open ocean. A small smile lifts the corners of my mouth. "Alright, we'll walk."

"The tobacco smell is from Striker's pipe, and the rum, his drink of choice; which he shares by spillin' it on those close t' him. I noticed ye sniffin' the jacket, if it offends I'm sorry. I just didn't want ye t' catch a chill."

They walk along, "Ye know yer temper is part of yer charm, but I doubt that Miss St. Claire would see it that way. She won't give Captain Striker the time o'day, and a card game might have improved his standin'."

"Guess I'll take that stroll on the pier now. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, Lady." Standing, I give the group a polite bow, and retreat toward the door.

It's a fine soft night, and I need the fresh air to clear the champagne from my head.

"Silkie play my cards and I'll spot ye 50 reales." Jacky rises from the table and turns to Miss St. Claire, "My apologies, I'll have a dress and a seamstress sent t' yer room at the Inn, on the morrow." Jacky bows and hastily races toward the door to block Ransom's exit. "Not takin' that walk wit' out me, are ye? I think not." Jacky wraps his coat over Ransom's shoulders, and the pair leave the pub together.

I lean over to inspect Jacky's cards. Wtih a slight push of my elbow, I slide a full bowl of Creme Brulee off the table into Tess's lap.

...I turn back to Jacky and Striker. "So, who deals first?"

"Looks like ye dealt first, lets hope when Tess takes her turn she doesn't double down!" Jacky slides his chair back from the table. The bar maids furiously start to clear the table, before any more accidents occur.

"Ray, thar's blood in the water and the sharks are circlin' the young lad." Siren is about to pounce, Silkie's offerin' him drinks, and Ransom, too. Jacky sighs, "Elvira has already gotten what she wants from the lad."

Jacky walks over to young mister Flint, "Lad don't ye know better than t' come in here wit' out someone watchin' yer back? Here let's give ye an escort t' the bar."

"Lady Tess the night yields to those who are patient. Patience is a virtue we should all work on this night."

"Yer deck will not work fer the game I have in mind. Ray has a Persian deck wit' 25 cards in 5 suits fer a game called As Nas. It's a bit like Poker, do ye still care t' play?"

"Dear Ransom I wouldn't want ye so near t' the water on a full stomach, in case that walk lead t' a moon lite swim. Look, the moon is nigh the horizon and is not on the wane. We have time for at least one hand of cards. What say ye t' that?"

Tess walks up to Jacky.  "First of all...I shall be no one's lap dog...that role is fit for only men...and that particular man must prove himself worthy...in more ways than one!"  She quickly looked at the crowd that had gathered.  Silkie sitting next to Striker and Jacky and Ransom partaking a bit of champagne.  "I see you lot have made yourself quite at home.  Who can I interest in a game of cards?"

"My dear Miss St. Claire, that man as ye call him is more than worthy, he is gentleman and comes from a good family; jus' needs a little temperance, which a good woman, such as yer self, could administer."

"When ye sez game o' cards, does ye mean gamblin' or parlor games? Cause if'n ye mean gamblin', I'm sure we could lighten yer purse for ye."

Jacky turns to the bar maid, "Some port for Captain Striker, thank ye!"

"Bite? I never bite—unless provoked of course."

... I'm going to have to run up and down the pier a few time to work all this food off."

"I'll be happy t' chase ye up and down the pier later, and see if'n I can provoke ye!"

"Where is that Tess? Miss St. Claire, please come sit wit' us nasty pirates, ye can be Striker's lap dog. Stop all yer plottin' and have some sweets. I promise Silkie won't bite ye; but, I can't make the same promise about Ransom." He chuckles softly.

Cap'n Striker!  I may be named after a seal buot I nil eat like one!  N't offer one det may b'tainted!

Ransom ...tank ya fer d'offer t share d'Creme Brulee det Jacky brought ya!  Peaches n'cream!

Silkie fights the urge to sit between Jacky and Ransom feeling tha the joke may go sink like an anchor.

"Silkie, sit anywhere ye like. Or was ye intendin' to sit in the middle o' the table? Do that and ye would be offered little fishies. But pull up a chair and sup wit' us, and ye may partake of creme brulee or peaches and creme fresh."

Thankfully Joaquin has pulled up his stupid puffy pants. Elvira is chatting it up with Siren and Long Tom. Mary the barmaid goes staggering by, "Mary looks like ye cut yer self shavin', luv!" Jacky mumbles, "Just another day at the pub."

Jacky wonders if anyone noticed the big sign in front of the pub. I swear if the fella didn't have a mustache, he could pass for Ray's sister.

"Ray, set me up wit' a mug of ale, if ye please." Jacky turns to Inigo, "By the bye mate, if my arse looked that bad, ye wouldn't see me moonin' everyone here."

"Oh, there's plenty for everyone, surely? Well, except for Tess. I don't know if I'd trust her around food or not. And, whatever you do, if she offers you tea, DON'T DRINK IT!

Looks toward the door as Captain Sterling sticks his head in, turns a bit green, and backs out. I tap Jacky on the arm. "Uh, Capt. Sterling doesn't look too good. Maybe we better check up on him. He's had it pretty rough lately, what with being shot and all."

Eyes the creme brulee, which happens to be a favorite, with longing. "Or,....maybe we could send Striker. He looks like he could use some fresh air."

"I'll bribe Striker wit' an aeblekage (Danish Apple Cake) t' watch Sterling, while ye enjoy that creme brulee." Jacky also prepares a tonic with willow bark and herbs, to help the ailing Captain Sterling.

"I drinks coffee, so I think it be safe t' offer Miss St. Claire a tea cake." (This is Tess's thread after all!)

I then turn to Jacky.  "I hope you can come up with something for dessert better than dead pickled fish."

"Aye, I think we can do better than little fishies." Jacky returns to the galley with a large tin of fresh ground paprika, a rista of peppers and large sack of creole spices. The chef is all too glad to take the bounty off Jacky's hands. "E! my good man, the shrimp was well received..." Before Jacky can utter another word, the dessert chef rolls up a cart with tempting treats. Jacky nods his approval, and turns back to the dining area.

Ransom and Jacky return to their table, where the table has been cleared, fresh flowers added and another bottle of champagne awaits them. Jacky pulls a chair out for Ransom, and takes one across from her. The dessert tray has Creme Brulee (Burnt Cream t' the English) served with fresh raspberries, and Peaches soaked in brandy, topped wit' creme fresh, and assorted small cakes.

"Any thin' strike yer fancy, Ransom?" Pauses, "Should we invite Striker and Silkie t' sup? Or perhaps even Tess?"

I'd be afraid as I "drank it all down", the shot glass would come up and hit me in the nose, filling me nostrils with booze, causing me to choke to death! But I'd love to see someone else give it a go!

Jacky picks up the mug, slides the shot glass to the drinkin' side o' the glass, "Bottoms up!" Downs the beverage, wipes his mustache and turns to Ransom, "That's how it's done, luv."

9, 9 DAYS! WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

8, 8 Days! Beat ye t' it! Petee lad. Hope t' see some of me friends thar.

"Oh dessert! Well thar is still some pineapple dippin' sauces left... but, it looks like were out of coconut shrimp."

Look over Jacky's shoulder at Striker. "Maybe you should offer Silkie some smorrebrod, she looks hungry."

"Striker if'n ye do offer her somethin' t' eat, offer it t' her wit' a fork. Ye don't want t' be losin' any fingers!'

Jacky turns to Ransom again, "I thought I had satisfied yer hunger... wit' the seafood?"

I pause with a bit of herring snorrebrod inches from my mouth, and look at Striker. "What did they say?"

Jacky turns to Ransom, "Somethin' about health and wealth t' ye all!" He sees she is about to bite the Smorrebrod, "Did I mention lips that touch pickled herrin' shall never touch mine?"

Seeing that the Smorrebrod and coffee are reviving Striker, Jacky wonders what will revive the passions of Miss St. Claire? Hoping the Terrier will not just become her next lap dog!

"aye, Smorrebrod as my mother did not use to make them" Striker looks at St.Claire , and mumbles to himself "better get sober again ... the terrier is on the hunt " . Striker starts drinking the coffee

An aside to Captain Striker, "So how did yer mum make 'em? Or was she like mine and couldn't cook?"

***OOC***

We are the strangest looking support group, but the feelings are real enough. Again, my condolences to the young man's family, you and your husband, Ransom.