Red Cat Jenny

Man,thats classic.I like that

I think it's way cool.

Have a Historical Birthday andalong history of many more!

A Happy Birthday Mr.Okeeffe! Here are some pirtae cupcakes to share with yer lovely bride

A very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to a simply lovely lady.

Welcome...to the land of mod ;P

A HAPPY NATAL DAY SAH! Many more

sigh.. nice...wish I could make this one..

Pyrates Pigs and Pints...can't beat that...

A walking stick A bit of Irish That donnybrook ya been spoilin for An a toast fer after Slainte! Happy Birthday

Miss Ashcombe woke abruptly as her chin slipped again from her palm. She rubbed bleary eyes with the sore heels of her hands and reached her arms up and back to bring her hair away from her face. As she did the sliver of wood reminded her of it's presence once more. Wincing, she took up a fresh candle and descended to the makeshift surgery. Jenny shaded the flame and peered into the darkness finding Mr. Flint Bandaged and sleeping with the young woman almost in his lap, asleep where she had slumped between him and the rib of the hull. The Churgeon of the Watch Dog looked a wretch covered in blood and ruddy from the heat. Her damp and stained hair clung to her cheek and somehow even as such, she had a look of calm about her face. Jenny knelt beside Miss O'Treaisaigh and touched her shoulder. The woman woke with a start but Jenny placed a finger to her own lips and grasped both hands helping her to her feet. The docteur wavered and tripped on her skirts once as they stepped over and between undiscernable forms in the near darkness. She was reluctant to leave those so recently in her care, but Jenny kept at convincing her. The two spoke in hushed urgency until Maeve too tired to fight any longer gave in. Knowing the Steward was correct in that she was of no use to anyone without rest. Miss Ashcombe sent her first up the ladder and followed steadying her as they went. Once in the Ward room Jenny provided what comfort she could in the way of more bathing water and the loan of a chemise and helped scrub the evidence of so much horror from her hands and face. The two women worked in silence when at any other time they would have made pleasant conversation of new acquaintances. Jenny was amazed that Miss O' Treaisiagh had accomplished so much in the face of all that had happened. Despite the woman's slight build and delicate features, she felt the strength in the hands of the churgeon who had obviously toiled many hours with them. Leaving Maeve to finish with what water and clean cloth was left, Jenny laid out the chemise on her cot and left the docteur to head below once more. Taking great care to make no more sound than necessary, she boiled a small kettle and filled two clay vessels. Steeping tea leaves in each she placed them on a tray with a half cone of sugar wrapped in parchment and some bread and cheese which had been waiting for the mornings repast. She returned to find a grateful churgeon who managed some of the tea and a bit of cheese before falling asleep right before Jenny in the chair by her cot. She looked less a ghastly apparition now and Jenny laid the wool blanket across her sleeping form. She sat for a time upon her cot finishing the bread left. The heat of the tea soothed her fingers and the warmth of it her stomach. She watched the woman sleep and wondered how many would survive during the journey. She wondered whether Captain Lasseter would return soon or would be offered Captain Brands hospitality within his larger quarters. Shortly the need for rest overtook her as well and she slumped on the cot still dressed, cup clutched in hand. The ships cat brought about by the smell of cheese and the relatve quiet, came from it's hiding place and lapped from the cup but neither woman woke at the small rumble emanating from the cat.

A Happy and pirate filled birthday!

Red Cat laughed an wiped her face wit her sleeve. She'd kept Roberts in her peripheral vision choosing t' stay clear of any parley wit th' man just now. Though his brief gold toothed grin settled at leat a few o' th' hairs on th' back o' her neck. She needed t' know how dealins were t' be wit th' Spaniards now crewin their own ship fer an Irishman, a Brit an herself. It would be an interestin journey, th' irony and recent comedy o' which mighta turned up th' corner o her mouth, but she needed t' settle some things which weren't allowin her stomach t' rights. It seemed they were in acceptance o'th' situiation given the trade off o'promised treasure. Heck, they may even become mates. Cat would not have a drink till she understood Guererro an his man. This annoyed her as she had a thirst at that moment.. She returned an affected bow to th' Spaniard fer his consideration an'stepped towards Nate t'discuss their headin'fore all had a general chat on wot was t'come.

Great...now I'll have to start drinkin again.... wait....eh?

Jet Blue just issued a one day sale only for today with some amazing fares to Fort Lauderdale. Anyone gone this route? Whats the best connection you've found from there?

As the Captain left with the aid of his walking stick, Jenny watched him go. Holding herself back from assisting unless asked, she would give him the dignity he sought and not fuss after him as he moved stiffly towards and up the stair to the main deck. There he paused and without turning, thanked her again and again bade her assure him she would see herself to the churgeon if necessary. Captain Lasseter did not turn towards her, partly for the awkwardness of the past while and partly so she would not witness the tightness of his jaw as he clenched his teeth against the pain in his body for mounting the few stairs. The whiskey had worn thin and all the effort of dressing and arming himself ate at the recovery from fatigue gained while he'd sat as she worked stoically to mend him within the small light. Captain Lasseter straightened, took in a great breath and stepped back into the night now lit with lanterns and expectant faces as the familiar sight of the frigate Watch Dog loomed close to the Lucy's splintered rail. He nodded to those near him as he passed receiving proudly knuckled salutes. Jenny stood where she had as he left, back to the table and listened to the calls as the two ships closed the remaining distance. She was tired beyond measure. She moved to the door securing the latch but re opened it shortly as there was little clean water left in the Captain's pitcher. She began to remove the dirtied basin and would return for the pitcher when young Liam Rowan passed by and she enlisted his assistance. She was glad to see the young powder monkey mostly unscathed and thanked him quickly knowing he was eager to be involved in the proceedings at hand. Jenny sat for a time before removing her own clothes and washing as best she could the dried blood of others now including her employer and the grime of the battle which seemed to cover her everywhere. She did not seek the Captain's glass hung where he normally saw to his toilette, having no desire to recall her reflection as it must be. Jenny longed for hot water and lavendar. The heat would wash the ache from her shoulder and soothe her skin which burned insistently at her side. But she made do with the basin and what linen remained. As she undressed Jenny saw that her side was indeed mostly spared from the splinters which came away from where they had been pricking her skin stuck instead in the fabric. Her side was red from the abrasion and there were a few slivers which had pierced the skin. They had bled some and she winced as she washed away what she could taking care to leave the one intact that was set too deeply for her to attempt alone. She wondered if the woman docteur was still below and how the small woman with delicate features and so much resolve tended to so many and if she was stll below she must be beyond exhaustion herself. She felt some guilt at having not returned to assist but her duties as Steward made the Captain her first responsibility. Jenny stood wrapped in the woolen blanket from her cot and considered what to dress herself in from the meager choice before her. She felt too unclean for women's dress and the thought of petticoats, apron, and stays made her mind tired. "No, stays will not do with this wood in my side and my shoulder so... C'est Impossible" She dressed instead in the second pair of sailors clothes and sat in the chair. As she settled slowly her hip ached where she had struck the solidnes of the deck and the splinter pulled, but not as badly. She would seek the docteur, or even Mr. Marsh but her body felt heavy and the quiet around her beckoned her to close her eyes. The light had become quite low as the candle was nealry spent and Jenny slept fitfully until a rap at the door she'd latched brought her quickly to her feet. She bent awkwardly as her injuries reminded her of the recent battle and hastened to open it. Nigel Brisbane's lanky frame filled the doorway and he removed his hat relaying a request from Captain Lasseter for a munitions ledger to be brought to where the stores were now being recounted.

Finding his sea chest locked, Jenny called back to the Captain to inquire about the key. He pulled it from the tangle of shirt and neckerchief where it had come from around his neck with all. He turned his back towards her and held the key out on its lanyard. As she reached for it Jenny was obliged to unavert her eyes and saw the damage to the flesh of his back. "Captain! please let me fetch the woman churgeon from below, you are greatly wounded." Jenny's voice was filled with concern at the tears in his flesh, mostly at the shoulder and the angry welt which connected the two places the ball had made contact. The flesh in these areas was bruising purple and yellow. "Nay Miss Ashcombe. Captain Brand expects me and I am bound to fulfill my duty as Captain and see to my crew foremost, assist me as before and see what we have to bandage tha worst for now.." Seeing the concern on her face mixed with he supposed womanly consternation he smiled "well shortly be gammed and I must make an appearance. " His Steward checked herself from further comment and carefully cleaned the wound wrapping linen bandaging from shoulder to ribs. She opened the chest and therein amongst weaponry and the simple items of a sailor, much less than she expected a Captain would have under lock and key, she retrieved shirt, slops, stockings dark in color and lifted his older coat from it's peg where his hammock would be hung.

Ward Room of The Lucy Captain Lasseter stood slowly, wavering before he fully gained his feet. He straightened, then winced sucking in his breath and Jenny grasped his shoulders as he dropped heavily back onto the bench. The sudden move nearly toppled her as she had stepped backwards and was forced to reach past her balance to assist him. Dorian asked for drink to brace him and as she turned to fetch it she noted a shudder overtake the captain. Jenny paused in her step "Sah...you'll catch your De...." she stopped catching her breath at the expression so often used, which seemed a ghastly misstep given the Captains yet unseen injuries. She quickly recovered speaking determinedly "You MUST allow me sah" Miss Ashcombe went about removing the sopping wesket which was difficult at best as the wool clung to the linen still damp in spots beneath it. She tugged gently and he assisted her as best as able. It was a slow process and one that revealed darker stains on the linen beneath as the wool gave way grudgingly. Once his wesket was removed she hung it over the back of his chair commenting softly to herself "ces vêtements sont veulent dedans d'un foyer " He made a questioning noise and as she returned to inspecting his shirt she explained as she considered the best method of proceeding owing to the cloth being stuck in dark patches to minor wounds on his fore and upper arms. "Your clothes are in want of a hearth sir" He chuckled weakly which turned to a sharp sound as she pulled at the fabric finding it adhered quite well to his arm. Jenny went to the sideboard and brought the pitcher to where he sat. Pouring the water over certain areas she eased the fabric from where it stuck to his arms. When the sleeves were rolled up she brought him a large dram of whiskey and set the bottle nearby should he require more to ease the pain as she readied to tend the various wounds exposed.

Fearing the Captain had been newly attacked, she looked hastily about for an assailant. Seeing none, she rushed to his side but stopped, confounded momentairly in the haze of her own exhaustion betwixt command, propriety and the state he was in before her. Miss Ashcombe stood before the Captain unsure of where to start. His clothes were soaked and the wool darkened by seawater made it nearly impossible to discern where his injuries may lie. Jenny put a hand to his shoulder gingerly and it came away pink, blood and water mixed. But so many of them had been soaked in the blood of others. He looked up from his position and straightened slightly a grimace betraying the difficulty of any small move. "Miss Ashcombe, you are well?" "Aye" He went on belaying his injuries and assuming his position of command, though his speech was slower and he paused to draw a breath "Ye and Miss Smith ..a job well done, I can see by all what ye have brought here" Jenny was posessed of a mind to ignore his talking and see to the business of his care. But she thanked him for the praise. His face paled slightly as he shifted his weight making no effort to stand. "Sir, I must help you, shall I fetch the Doctor of the Watch Dog?"

Jenny had stood with the others or near as possible while they fought to fish the Watch Dog's men from the sea. She witnessed the death roll of the Snow as it grappled it's attackers, seeking to pull them down to it's final resting place. A longboat the only prize it's weakened grasp managed, as the last of it slipped under with such finality. Images sure to be pondered at a later and safer time by more than one who had so far survived the battle only to be endangered by the product of their own deeds. She turned from the place where she had sought shelter from the flailing masts and fleeing men and made her way across the deck seeking to be useful. Secretly hoping to be needed by none. Jenny's bones ached and the skin of her cheek burned. She was soaked in places and bloodied in others but cared little for she was still freshly aware of being alive. The scene all about was surreal and the absence of the ship she had only shortly plundered the depths of with Miss Smith, left the Watch Dog and Lucy as if they had done battle between them. Around her Grunts of effort and heavy breathing interspersed with short speculation as many of the crew were still employed in finding stowage for all manner of goods. The cackle and braying of livestock and the scrape and thump of crates and barels being dragged across the bloody sand of the deck. She marveled wearily almost in a manner subconcious, as she passed through this otherworld how the business of war was conducted. Not a moment wasted or a man spared who could work. Though they gave willingly she supposed for their share of all that was taken. Shortly she reached the ward room and paused with her hand on the latch wondering if the scene below would be more solemn than when she'd left it. She entered intending to descend the ladder and seek Mr. Marsh when she was met with the sight of Captain Lasseter slumped his head on his hands, leaning on the butt of his cutlass at the sternbench.

The soviet's Dead Hand - Some scary sht "It would immediately transfer launch authority to whoever was manning the system at that moment deep inside a protected bunker—bypassing layers and layers of normal command authority. At that point, the ability to destroy the world would fall to whoever was on duty" http://www.wired.com/politics/security/magazine/17-10/mf_deadhand?currentPage=all

I say a good public flogging goes right along with anarchist's lawlwss style. Why treat them to the justice system?

No offense to CA but Im waiting for Phoenix to become beachfront property or Palm trees in NY would be just fine As for the protestors...I hate the thought of tax money having to be spent on emergency services (which btw also would be spewing emissions as they speed to an accident created by dumb arse stunts)

Thats awsome! Did you use only sandpaper to age it? The red looks dulled, how did you achieve that?