Pyrates of the West Coast

[William Brand]

When the Doctor stepped out onto the gun deck William removed his hat with more sincere regard than he had shown any captain or officer before. He was doing it before he even knew he was, his hand drawing it from his head in one slow and distracted arc.

"Miss Fitzgerald." was all he managed, one eyebrow rising, one corner of his mouth smiling. "Words fail..."

[The Doctor]

:: Smiling at the lack of answer from within, Jack continued on to the main deck ::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

" Merci beaucoupe, sir." She replied to William's act of the gallant, a brush of pink reaching her cheekline.

" You are most gracious and leave me stunned to your praise." Tempest dropped her eyes to the deck.

[William Brand]

"Charmé." He said as he bowed low.

The blush of a woman, no matter the woman, always awoke the best and worst of him at once. He did not hide the smile he saved for such occasions, though he might have normally kept it reserved in the presence of the good Doctor.

"The French will beg leave of Fournier to join us."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The predatory movement of fluid bearing was not lost on the gown's binding as she came closer to the Commanding Officer. This was a side that she had often suspected of William, for he was a charming gent under normal occassion, but the appearance and grace which was given to view now was one that far exceeded expectations.

Gaining the Captain's close proximity, she leaned close in reply.

" It will not be the French crew that you need give worry to. It is the one who oversees them..."

[William Brand]

Gaining the Captain's close proximity, she leaned close in reply.

" It will not be the French crew that you need give worry to. It is the one who oversees them..."

"I'm sure." William said, though he wasn't sure why. He suspected they had a history, but given his crew it could be anything. How many wanted men and women were aboard. Half of them might be, or all. Even as he was thinking on this, his Master at Arms came onto the gun deck.

"Speak of the devil." He thought.

"Good morning, Mister St. Anthony. I see that you too are indebted to the Carpenter." he said as he tapped the cane on the weatherdeck and smiled.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::gaining the deck, Mr. Lasseter spies the Captain and a very fine woman in an emerald green gown...::

*to self* Hmmm.... who be tha'?

::as he closed the gap, he recognized the finely dressed woman as their very own Tempest Fitzgerald, Surgeon... His steps faultered stightly, but he recovered and continuie forward, greeting the Officers...::

Cap'n... Jack... And greetings to ye, fine Lass...

::He nodded to the captain and Mr. St. Anthony, then clicking his heels together, holding the hilt of his sword in his left hand, he swept his hat off with his right, giving a medium bow.... when he came back upright, a broad grin was lighting up his face...::

My ye do look naught th' studious Doctor we know... Tis a goode look fer ye...

[The Doctor]

Good morning, sir! And aye, Rummy is a talented one!

:: He noticed the Captain's clothing, and very quickly after, that of the Doctor. He stammered with surprise ::

I take it there's some high-flown soire' about to take place?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The trace of pink renews its appearance and deepens to the Quartermaster's actions.

" Why thank you, my kind sir. One could say the same of yourself."

Hearing the Master at Arms' approach, she turns slightly with a warm smile.

[William Brand]

I take it there's some high-flown soire' about to take place?

"Aye, Mister St. Anthony. To your brush and polish, good man. You too are to join us on the Chasse de Mer."

William nods approvingly to Mister Lasseter. "We shall overpower them with our presentation yet."

[The Doctor]

I shall return presently with a fresh shift of clothes, sir. Captain, Mr. Lasseter, quite sharp I must say! And Doctor... simply sparkling.

:: Jack bows slightly, and heads off to change his clothes for dining on the French ship. He attemtped a jaunty gait despite his mildly aching leg, and the sudden cold knot in his stomach at the thought of stepping aboard that French vessel...

He dug about in his sea chest and located his good frock coat and waistcoat, his best breeches, and a clean shirt. He ran a damp rag over his boots, as the distressed leather was beyond regaining a shine. Polishing his weapons took little time, as he was meticulous in maintaining their condition. He splashed some water on his face, deciding there was no time to trim his beard. He tried his best to tidy up his past shoulder-length hair, and gave up on that as well. He fetched a clean red headscarf to contain his tousled mane.

Onced dressed, he checked his hat in the mirror, and sighed heavily. "Perhaps, just perhaps, I am worried about nothing" he thought to himself.

Jack made his way back to the gun deck to rejoin his crewmates, and to see what dish Fate had on the day's menu ::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Lieutenant Lemaire gave a last survey of inspection to the decks and Dining cabin's display as Fournier finished readying in near sleeping quarters. Although the leaniancy had been granted in dismissal of full dressage, the officer's and crew had chosen the wear their best of working uniforms for the impending meal. The galley had started in preperations as soon as the reply had been received and all of the Capitaine's private store of silver had been polished to mirror finish. Domiminque was unable to supress amusement to what his cousin called an "informal" affaire; a thought reinforced as Fournier entered the room wearing a formal frock reserved for the visit of dignitaries.

"So...This seems much ado for the attendance of fellow seaman..." Dominique smugged. ' Perhaps there is more here than meets the eye?"

The Lieutenant offered a wide grin to the other's disappoving expression.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

At the notice of Jack's return on deck, the Surgeon approached where he stood with concern to how his injuries where doing. Quietly she queried,

" I noticed that you are favoring that leg today, more than last eve. Are you in discomfort or pain? Is there something that I can do to eliviate any angst you may have?"

Her eyes searched his expression with a note of worry.

[The Doctor]

No, good Doctor. I'm afraid not. Unless you know of a way to keep me from overdoing things that does not involve restraints. I assure you, I am well. Simply preoccupied, nothing more.

:: Jack smiled at the Doctor, and he could not help but notice her striking elegance. It was difficult to believe that this delicate creature was the same person he has seen in a blood-soaked apron, disheveled and weary from putting some poor sod back together. He decided to try and dispel concerns about his emotional state ::

Captain, is she always on at you like this, as well?

[Pirate Petee]

*after receiving instruction from Ms. Tudor, he makes his way to the gathering of other officers and the captain.*

Aye sir.

[William Brand]

Captain, is she always on at you like this, as well?

"She measures me against my office and..." William smiled. "I do believe she does, Mister St. Anthony."

William watched Mister Youngblood approach and once the Bosun arrived he ordered Mister warren to have the cutter prepared for their short journey to the waiting frigate.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: as they waited for the Cutter to be readied, Mr. Lasseter decided to make small talk, to steady some of the nerves of the others...::

Aye Cap'n, how does th' Cutter sail? She looks ta be straight n' true...

She got fine lines as I see it... Mr. St. Anthony, what say you? And Mr. Youngblood, I think she could handle some light cannons, aye?

::As the officers contemplated his questions, their tenseness seemed to lighten some...::

[Pirate Petee]

Aye, I belive she could. Or at least a swivel or two.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Hmmm.... mayhaps a few three 'r four pounders... mayhaps.....

[Captain Jim]

Having received orders to join with the officers on the gun deck, Mr. Warren had hurriedly repaired to his sea chest. From deep within he retrieved his last suit of clothes from his days before he took up the sweet trade. A deep blue coat with crimson edging, matching breeches and a crimson waistcoat, all from a time long ago…Dressing quickly, he gained the gun deck as the cutter was brought alongside…

“Sorry ta be late, all. Just had ta brush up some old clothes…”

[William Brand]

"Mister Youngblood, please fire a salute while Mister Warren prepares the cutter."

[Pirate Petee]

Aye sir.

*He removes the plug from the gun and rams a charge of powder.*

You sailor, help me run em out. An you, go light dis slow match.

* He pricks the charge and primes the gun. The sailor comes back with a smoking linstock and hands it to him. He lowers the linstock to the touch hole*

BOOM!!

[William Brand]

William was glad for the company of them all as he prepared to return to the Chasse de Mer. He was as removed from care as he had been since coming aboard. The loss of Mister Sons had been a blow of no small significance, but he was glad for all other matters, and felt confident that Sons himself might have ended Van Buren in the night. He liked to think so.

As Mister Warren sent the rowers into the cutter, he couldn't help but notice the effect the doctor was having on the men. The day before, not one would have over-noticed her, but now they were stepping aside to let her enter the boat ahead of them. He tried not to smile, but found that smiling was coming easy of late.

In a few days from now they would be in new waters and selling wares that would line their pockets in Spanish silver.

William went down into the boat, and Mister Johnson and Mister Pew kept the deck.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The rapport of gun echoed water's surface to announce the soon to be arriving guests. With the final brushing and straightening of attire, Fournier left the well appointed great cabin which would soon be filled with what he hoped to be good fellowship. From above, the soundings of flurried boot heel assured that all would be as expected before he arrived to the surface. Striding the companion way, his sense of smell was overwelmed by the mixture of fare that was to be presented and complimented by seven varieties of spirits carefully selected from his own private stores.

Achieving the upper deck, he casually scrutinized the formations of rank bordering the starboard rail. Making a round of the deck in proper fashion, Jean-Micheale bestowed nods of approval to the assigned officers of each division, before returning to the Quarterdeck. With arrival to the sacred ground, he was joined by the officers that would accompany in the soire' at hand.

Clasping hands behind back, he observed the movement across liquid distance at readying launch and was pleased to see that Capitaine Hollande had honored his request; a pleasure that was furthered when recognition occured to another figure aided in movement and support. Turning to Lamaire, he made request for answering signal to be fired.

[William Brand]

The water was clear, and any remaining debris from the Danzig was long since swept away by the waves and storm. Mister Warren manned the tiller with his usual precision and the sleek craft cut across the distance with ease.

Eyes that had been blurry upon waking, cleared. Voices conversed. The Chasse de Mer loomed.

It was there in the middle that William felt most vulnerable. He did not expect the Fournier to fire upon him, though in certain circumstances, killing all the senior officers at once might be advantageous. He put these thoughts aside, wondering what each member of his crew was thinking at this very moment.