Black Nate

The door bursts open. Who say "hand over feast?" Dat soun' like a piratey theeng to say! Jou, Nate, jou geeve dem back dere feast right thees meenute! Soamboddy going to go hongry odderwise! ...whad' jou all lookeeng at? Nate is stunned for a time and watches all the antics of the others with Inigo. When some of the laughter dies down Nate walks over to the spaniard and offers his hand. "So, ya be the Inigo people tol me about. You be crazier then some think I am. Looks like we both come ta th right place!" Nate starts laughing, still holding Inigo's hand and claps his other hand on the spaniard's back.

Nate was glad he wasn't on the quarter deck steering. No one was in the bows with a lead line, even if they were following the Relentless, their was no telling where the bay might get shallow quickly.

Nate finishes up th smoked salmon on his plate, follows it up with some fruit crepes and washes it all down with some doctored up coffee. "Looks ta be a fine day in port. Eat hearty, we gonna be workin hand over fist this day." Nate wipes his mouth with one of those fancy table lap cloths and stretches, standing up he's ready for the day ahead.

Aye, we be friends here an all. But, Through the Kates main dining hall where the gathering patrons are being served by competent staff.. Into the small Parlour kitchen where the PHSB crew is assembled for a sendoff brunch. No party crashers, if ya says so capin Ma'am. Looks that way ta me. Have a drink on me, wotever me little coin will cover.

Nate turns ta captain Ransom. "Sorry capin, jus not one fer party crashers." He shrugs his shoulders and has more rhum and helps himself to the fine fare.

. . . .

Nate heard the sounds of the anchor chain comin in and Red Cat called to him ta come topside. He was half way out of the hold when she remarked about mindin a lantern. "Wot lantern?" Nate asked just as he raised his head an bashed it off o th lantern. "Ouch! Oh. . . . That lantern." Climbing up all the way he stood next to Red Cat and they both were rubbin their noggins. A moment later Nate saw what needed to be done, sheeting home a sail, so he stepped up and lent a hand. Soon the Rakehell was under easy sail heading to where the Relentless was about to dock. Nate kept his eye on things and some others, and rubbed his head every so often as they sailed in.

Ah, my dear Sir, but I have a good portion of Kahlua in me cafe mocha. But if that doesn't seem strong enough for ya, then please pour me a tumbler of DiSarono or Drambuie on the rocks. Ya gots kahlua in yer mocha, I guess that'll do! Drink up then! My gut be grumblin some too. Where be the cook an servin wenches?

Wot's wit th hot chocolate an mocha? Unless there's whiskey or rhum or something in those drinks, you ain't celebratin right!

Nate raises his tankard and not so gently whacks it against everyone elses drinking vessels for the toast. "Party til we reach th 3000 post mark!" He heads back to th bar next ta Red Cat. "Capin's wonderin where be th snacks? Wot they gots ere? Got more than snacks? Hearty food and dessert? Say, London Broil and Pie?"

Nate was just about to go into the hold where the captain called him over, asking if he know spanish. He walked over to her and saluted, shrugging his shoulders. "I know a phrase or two, but I don't think they'll help much." She looked at him, "What phrases?" Nate looked around and scratched the back of his neck. I were told this were a polite greetin fer a spanish man, Hola usted hijo de una puta gorda. . . . But I don't think it is. And fer a woman, Hola usted hija fea de un hermano y de una hermana, and some other words." Ransom held up her hand and shook her head. "Aye, nevermind, return to your work." He saluted again with a smile and headed back to the hold.

"Aye, seems I've come ta th right place then. . . ." Nate begins to laugh, and others join in as it is infectious. The laughter dies down and drinking commences again.

Nate helped the other crewmen unbatten and lift off the hatches to the hold, peering down into the darkness within. Nate had been rigging some tackle to hoist out cargo and now used it to lower a cargo net into the space. "Care ta head inta th hold wit me an see wot's wot?" Nate held back his grin as he asked the Red Cat.

Nate comes inta th Kate a tad late as usual. "Wot's iss about a party fer the PHSB?" he Grins his wild grin and addresses the heavens, "Yes Father, I'll tell 'em." Walking over to the bar next to Red Cat and seeing Miss Ashcombe there he wrinkles his brow, then shakes his head. "The Almighty says since ya don't have any water ta turn ta wine, He can't help at th party. I'll have rhum then." Once served, Nate bumps tankards and glasses with everyone in reach. "Slainte!"

Nate took the canvas and walked to where the Red Cat had said to put it and thought some about her question before he answered. "Th Eliza weren't my first ship I sailed on. Th longest one I sailed on though. Spent almost five year on er, until. . . . til she went down." He got that far away look on his face for a long moment before bringing himself back to the present. Nate acted as if nothing had happened and continued. "Fore that I were on th Sarah P. fer two year, fore that. . . . Well, I been ta sea most o me life, here n there." He grinned his wild grin and looked at her sideways. "An wot about you?"

Nate turned and saw Red Cat with her load o canvas. He smiled back at her as he came over and wrapped his arms around the canvas and hefted it out of her arms. "Where ya want this ere bundle, Miss Cat?" Nate grinned at her and waited for her orders.

Ya mean like onta th reef just over that way? We be salvaging a wreck, wouldn't we? Poor spanish, they need better charts, always running aground. Spanish gold to line our pockets! Spanish gold to buy our rhum! Spanish gold to buy our bread! Spanish gold to buy our butter! Spanish gold to buy our cinnamon and sugar! Spanish gold to make our world go round! Ain't it actually Inca and Aztec gold that the spanish stole? Bloody pirates.

Oi Patrick, I ain't cryin over a handfull of silver. Just an odd feeling wit me pocket so light all of a sudden. Aye Silkie, since Patrick ain't gonna sew up wot he done did to me pocket, and he says you sew real good. A good price? sew it real nice and this'll all be yours, all this cinamony toast and this here rhum. Patrick, I agree, the Cat has a fine place here indeed. Think I'm gonna stay awhile. A long while. Even longer if we find that ship ua were talking about.

Ya best get yer sewin skills in action right about now. Before ya start drinkin all that fine rhum I paid for! Then yer off ta get rhummy and cinnamon buttery toasty. Red Cat! Fine, fine purchases ya made! Stoke th fire and toast th bread! Lets get 'toasted'!

Oi!!!!!! Hands outta me pockets! No ticklin!!!! Patrick, I ain't got no purse ta cut! My money! Mine, Mine, Mine!!! Well, alright. I'll share. Now I don't look like no snobby rich bloke. Go buy me more rhum! And bread and cinamon and butter!

Nate saluted captain Ransom and raised an eyebrow to Red Cat and headed below to the space he claimed as his own, where he had his sack hung. Nate placed his pistol within and hung his cutlass beside it. He checked to make sure all his worldly possessions were still there, not that he had much. The clothes on his back, his weapons, some ammunition and powder, ink and quill and what was left of the log book from the Eliza. He hoped when they unloaded the ship he might find time to buy some personal things. He had but one spanish coin to spend. Nate hoped it would get him what he needed. Heading back on deck Nate continued coiling lines and readying tackle for hauling out cargo from the hold, waiting until they would haul anchor and sail the schooner to the docks to unload. Nate kept his eyes open for Africa, making sure he didn't get in the big moor's way, and o for the captain and Red Cat, he wondered what the deal was with 'articles'. He'd heard things, but was unsure.

Nate takes a sip from the bottle and grins, even if she did slip a coin in her pocket. He refills his flask and pockets it as well as keeping the bottle. Nate takes his clay pipe out of its case and fills it with tobacco from the pouch. "Gots a light?"

Nate turned to Red Cat and smiled a little bit. He nodded to her politely and looked back at captain Ransom. Nate weighed what both had said about the weapon and he stared at it trying to come to a decision. You could almost read on his face ideas that came and were discarded until with a slow smile and gentle nod he looked back at the captain. "Tank yer fer yer advice capin, Red Cat. Capin, I will keep it fer future use as needs arise. I would ask if ya would keep it under yer guard, as I got no place ta keep it myself, no place safe." Nate then looked at both the women and scratched his jaw. "Beg pardon, what's ya mean by bein fair by the articles?" His brow creased and he looked unsure for a moment and up at the sky. He looked back at them and grinned. "I need ta sign some articles?"

Takes flask, notices it's empty. Puts flask away and grins at the funny hat. "Looks french." Puts hands in pockets and rummages around. "I gots a bunch a stuff."

Nate thought for a moment. "Ma'am, Sah. I ain't trying ta curry yer faver, ain't tryin ta get out o work. I jus thought -." His mind was still slightly fogged from the nights activities. He took a deep breath, remembering what he had said back on shore when he first offered it to her. "I said I ain't worthy of it, maybe I could sell it, but not here. Bit of an insult I think." Nate got a look on his face. "Trade it for something I could use, how do ya mean, Ma'am, Sah?"