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Red Cat Jenny

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    The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Being one never t' waste time or words, Ransom passed Cat and Nate in the tight quarters, an' with a swish of coat tails was gone to her command. Cat moved only her eyes, focusin them on th' Sailor. Anger turned briefly to a merry twinkle and she shook her head chuckling softly. Nate had not moved to give the Cap'n more room t' pass. She knew he'd not done it out of disprespect fer he was a right sailor, but he'd taken th' liberty..an th' risk in orer to drag her from her black mood."She'll see ye fer tha" she chuckled. Red Cat shook her head agin, reached upwards towards th beam unner th' deck an stretched. She sighed heavily. "Nate...I dunna know if ye has had too much sea water, r' too much time unner ol' Sol on tha raft..but .." She was at a loss for where t' go from there. Cat loved Roberts dearly, she'd owed him th' debt o' her life and they'd shared many an ale an adventure. But had become so enraged at th' though o' his sensless shootin...she'd a killed him where he stood if things hadn't changed. Generally if it were t' appear senseless..atween th' two o' em it were more likely her t' go off half cocked. Hell JAcky were allus yellin at her t' stop wavin pistols about. But..she'd never killed witout a reason. Shot a man in th foot mebbe, left a few scratches...but.. Cat squoze her eyes shut an wiped 'em wiith her sleeve. She'd have t' talk t' Roberts..while he was in irons would be best. He warn't the soul he were without livin up to his reputation and there had been rare times she'd only been on th' edge o' trust with him.

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Battle

    The air was almost too thick to breathe, the taste of spent blackpowder left her tongue bitter and dry. Jenny coughed, shielding her mouth and nose with one sleeved arm and blinked back the stinging in her eyes. Every direction carried distruction as if a great storm of devastation had suddenly erupted between the ships from the depths only such a miasma could have been conjured in. The sound was deafening and adrenaline had taken over where fear would surely have paralyzed her, sealing her fate into an easy target. Jenny's whole body trembled and she was more terrified than she could have ever imagined. Moreso than being shot, her mind flung images at her of being tossed into the sea and smashed or drowned between the ships should the Lucy founder. Jenny ducked below the rail and as she did so was afforded a glance down the deck of the Lucy in time to see a man shot through. Flung off his feet by the force, followed by splinters from the portion of deck shattered along with him. Two others coming to his aid to scuttle him below. The deck was spilled with injuries both wooden and flesh and Jenny squoze her eyes shut. She turned again towards their attacker in time to see her own ship like a rabid dog draw even closer instead of running. The great guns tore into the side of the snow raining destruction and men into it's own deck and the sea below. She was transformed, the bravery around her, the fearless progression of the ship advancing to lay waste to it's asailant and the realiziation of her own mortality drove a singular realization. Martinique was no longer her home, not even France what she was defending. This ship, The Lucy would be her country and the crew her countrymen. She would fight to defend it. To near death if necessary but God willing she would survive. Anger and determination blended with the adrenaline and Jenny was tempted to rise above the rail and spend one of the pistols given her by Captain Lasseter. She reached back beneath the loaned wesket she now wore and felt firm steel of the dagger smuggled aboard. As she assured herself she would be able to draw and use it she wondered if the lad who loaned the wesket was among the living or the dead. A chill rushed through her and she shook it off. Determined to surive, she chided herself, knowing panic would mean sure death. Tucker's words came to her then and she answered him though he was nowhere nearby to hear her affirmation "Aye".

    Inbetween the barrage of cannon fire would be seconds of near silence, which were realized to be her hearing returning slowly. The staccato pop of musket fire blended with groans and shouts of men both near and farther off on the snow would fill in the gap in an odd raising and lowering only to be drowned out once again by thunderous cannon fire.

    After the Lucy's last volley shook the deck below her, Jenny glanced above the rail at the snow. Everything was lit as if daylight then plunged back into darkness intermittently. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the enemies guns flare and then die as the ship beneathe her was hit with the force of shot, the same sending plumes of water up alongside the hull. She held tightly to the wood and her stomach lurched but held fast not giving in to fear. She would face the enemy and see the damage wrought by her Captain's guns.

    As the smoke cleared Jenny saw the third ship. Out of the chaos all about it loomed as if from no where, sailing across the stern of the snow. It's calm progression in odd juxtaposition to the scene around them. Undamaged and deliberate, the Watch Dog crossed the snow's wake like a specter. Sails full and ghostly, illuminated by the flashes all around. In the space of a breath all seemed to pause as the Lucy and her enemy became aware. Taking this moment like a curtain call without the polite pause for invitation, the 'Dog unleashed destruction in the form of a single barrage. Flash and smoke erupting from it's gunports. The scene was oddly majestic as time seemed to slow just then. Against the backdrop of the broken British ship, the Watch Dog full as if indestructible, rained destruction upon those who would persue her sister.. her guns thundered deafeningly and the Snow exploded anew in men and debris. Jenny caught sight only for a moment, of Captain Brand standing like a specter himself on the 'Dog's holy ground, shrouded in the dissipating smoke and flashes of musket fire.

    Transfixed at the scene, her heart lept at the sight. At the same time she jumped from the nearby shout of Captain Lasseter "Nigel! Put th' Lucy into her! Now! " She turned to the tiller in disbelief and then towards the Captain only to see him rush the deck followed without hesitation by his men. Jenny breathed in a ragged breath at the shock of the Lucy making contact with the snow at that moment and the realization that there was no more distance safe or otherwise between them. Captain Lasseter was at once a man possesed of his command driving the men forward with his own actions brandishing cutlass and shouting. Then as before, calmly assured her even as he headed into the breach. As he did so he smiled..which turned genuinely feral as Dorian turned to faced his men and the snow once again. In her minds eye Jenny imagined Captain Brand with the same expression as the two ships closed irretrievably on their prey.

    Tools of the Trade

    in Galley

    Posted

    To begin I have recently read the following: Can anyone verify?

    Early 18th century

    The four-tined fork has become the rule in Germany. In England, though, forks still have two tines and are not so helpful for scooping up bites of food. Knives there had begun to be fashioned with wide, almost spoon-shaped (though still flat) tips, the better to use them for conveying food to the mouth. Also that the fork was used to push the food onto the knife and food was eaten from the knife. Which was done this way in many places until the Civil War.

    Tools of the Trade

    in Galley

    Posted

    I thought amongst all these wonderful recipies, that there should be some section for discussion and hopefully display of cooking, eating and storage implements.

    So have at it :)

    Favorite Eateries

    in Galley

    Posted

    Ooh Mission I love Panera. They have the best mango smoothies and a fireplace :)

    Theres a place in Greenport called The Rhumb Line.. for those of you not in the know a rhumb line is a path of constant bearing in nautical terms. Anyway it was always a really cool place. Planking, a fireplace and the passageway in from the back felt just like entering through a ship's passageway. The local fish is still great, but alas they have modernized the place.

    As you head way East there are many little places tucked along the shore routes that serve local recipies passed down through generations that still run them. The vast original immigrant population makes for some interesting dishes (polish, swedish, german, irish) and the farmland produces some pies that people will drive 2 hours just to buy for the holidays.

    OH and diners...NY is land of diners. Everyone has a favorite. Sunday morning after church is a must.

    The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Momentarily and over a third glass o' spirits, Red Cat forgot about Roberts. R' decided ta..

    She fixed her eyes upon Ransom. "I don think ol' Jacky's too hot t' leave these here waters. I agree th' Flodden's not t' be trusted..I'd lay tha she's not far off an waitin til any gold is brought forth." CAt rubbed th' edge o' th glass thoughtfully "They likely figger we'll do away wit each other over th' treasure an make the takin that much easier once our numberes are less. Sail back in an steal off wit the bulk o' it....An one o' these ships." She looked about for agreement or concurrence on th faces of th' others. "Now Nate 'ere has a point 'bout "Bermuda..but we need ta have a parlay tween us 'n Jacky. We're safer in numbers no matter th' port aye?."

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