Pyrates of the West Coast

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Emerging from private quarters, Armand paused to flick a smallish piece of lint from velvet surface. Satisfied that the intruder was delt with he glanced up the legnth of corridor and smiled impishly to what was seen.

"Mademoiselle...You are having difficulties?"

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor looked up and frowned upon seeing Armand. Or rather, looked horrified at her own appearence. "Oh, Lord - you're prettier then I am!" She said hand still fussin with hair, but the smiled and laughed, then grimmaced again as a finger got hoplessly tangled in a knot.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

:: looking slightly crestfallen, the quartermaster nodded...::

Aye... Mr Gage's health is of more import... And Armand is most capable, so I am told... Right then... when all's said n' done...

:: he turned to Admand.::

Get yerse'f all gussied up, then.... see ye topside...

::looking back to the Surgeon, a slight smile playing on his lips...::

Pity... such a fine gown to be locked up...

Ah... when does ye wish ta head ashore...? I know ye needs some perticul'r supplies....

The deep green visual pools scrutinized the underlying intents given by the Quartermaster's words. As Armand dismissed himself, she approached Dorian with a raise of brow.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Tudor looked up and frowned upon seeing Armand. Or rather, looked horrified at her own appearence. "Oh, Lord - you're prettier then I am!" She said hand still fussin with hair, but the smiled and laughed, then grimmaced again as a finger got hoplessly tangled in a knot.

"Prettier?" He chuckled at the statement. "Non, Mademoiselle...This could never be."

Armand cocked his head slightly to the left and watched her struggle with pins, combs and tresses.

"Perhaps you should let it loose to lie about your shoulder, oui?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

::As the Surgeon approached, Mr. Lasseter's eyes flicked to Mr. Gage and back to hers...::

Shall I get my list o' wot presently is bein' attained? Mayhaps ye'd like ta give it a once o'er... add yer needs? Aye, let us away to me cabin, I c'n show ye there...

::he stepped back, turned and held the door open for the Surgeon...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon glanced to the open doorway briefly and requested a moment before departure. Making Mister Gage aware that she would return soon, she went to the writting desk and obtained a list of needs.

"Shall we then, Mister Lasseter..." she hesitated. "But are you not to be in attendance to the Capitaine's request? This can be covered at a later time, you realize..."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Soon... th' wee boat headin' fer us won't make 'r side fer a turn o' th' glass... poor lads at th' sweeps....

An' I don't see this takin' too long.... check th' list an' we be on 'r respective ways... I s'pose...

::He held out his arm to usher the way out for the Surgeon, the slight smile a touch larger...::

"Merci, Monsuier Lasseter..."

::She said as she lead the way out of the ward, heading toward the cabins of the senior officers... The QuarterMaster two steps behind, was unable to hold open the door to his small living space, but she did not seem to mind. ::

Ah, there... allow me to get th' list... tis o'er... Hmmm...

Prey, 'ave a sit down on m'chair....

::she sat slowly and tilted her head up to his visage and smiled::

There, thankee... Here be th' list I 'ave... please look o'er an' add wot ye might wish... Tho' I think we shall 'ave ta head ashore fer certain items... gotta make sure th' right things are ta be had, an' not be substituted fer else by a under'anded snake...

:: He stood and watched her perouse the list for but a moment, and with a heavy sigh...::

My apologies... I should be back on deck ready ta recieve 'r guest... I'll come find ye once all 'as been addressed...

::He nodded and smiled at her, then headed topside, adjusting his finery as he went...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

:: He stood and watched her perouse the list for but a moment, and with a heavy sigh...::

My apologies... I should be back on deck ready ta recieve 'r guest... I'll come find ye once all 'as been addressed...

::He nodded and smiled at her, then headed topside, adjusting his finery as he went...::

The Surgeon watched as he left the small room and realized that she was still looking at the doorway after five minutes had passed. Scolding herself inwardly, Tempest tried to refocus upon the paperment in possession to no avail and glanced to Dorian's seachest. The rare old Mountain Dew she knew to be locked within, would do much to shock her senses to proper direction.

Gathering the documents, she turned down the small lamp that hung above and returned to the corridor. Deep in the realm of contemplation, the Surgeon made way her own cabin in attempt to work out dilemas that had risen to forefront. The maroon and gold adornments were no longer present, telling her that Armand had dressed and already headed aft. Sitting down at the tiny table that shared limited space with hanging cot, she stared at the empty hook that had suspended maroon layers.

Her brow creasesd as she recalled an ealier conversation taking place in this very room. With the Gascon's return from shore, and the meeting in chambers put to rest, they had shared an aged bottle of pernod as he retold his observations. During this, she had noticed the minute aggitation that exsited in Armand's otherwise calm manner and a certain glint that played his eyes. It was not a restlessness that seemed born in concern of outcomes going awry, this was different, and as the bottle's level decreased these enigmatic issues had revealed themselves. Colleen Jaquelyn Bertrand had listened intently, never arguing, never interjecting, only giving silent support.

The sound of door closure somewhere further down the corridor, brought her attention back to the now. Pushing other thoughts aside, she returned her center to the sheaves of parchement before her.

[The Doctor]

Jack paused at the gundeck, drinking in the moist sea air. He'd never been content on land, even as a child. Too limiting, to the point of suffocation of his spirit. The open water is where he vowed long ago to live out his life, knowing full well the sacrifices such freedom entailed.

He made a final adjustment to his clothing; the frock coat was a near fit, but the expired Dutchman merchant he'd taken it from was a bit more portly through the belly. He'd taken the coat and breeches because the buttons were nicer than the mismatched and half-broken bone buttons of his clothing at the time. Jack had taken to tying a sash about his waist to disguise the relatively poor fit of his clothing. His recently restored memory warred with the more Bohemian style he'd become accustomed to, wishing secretly for the crisper dress of days and station gone by. "An orderly pyrate, of military comportment?", he quizzed himself laughingly. Deep down, he understood the calling of the Account. And he welcomed it's Siren's call of pure freedom.

He adjusted his sword hanger, and with a nod to the Watch commander, proceeded to the Ward room.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: The QuarterMaster made his way topside, heading for the notch in the rail where the other officers waited for the launch to come along side...::

A'right... all o' ye... line up yer ranks here.... this side... opposite th' cap'n n' I... Armand... here, next to me... Aye... tha' looks proper.... Mr. Badger... soon as 'is head comes even wi' th' deck, sound yer call in a long trill....

:: soon the launch bumped the side of the ship... the call for permission to come aboard first came in spanish, then reasonable english..::

"Peermesseon to come Aboard, Por favor..."

:: William, looked at his officers, then leaned to look over the side...::

"Permission Granted..."

::Soon the sounds of a person climbing unsteadily up the side of the ship were heard, then his head came above the deck... Mr. Badger did as was commanded and piped him aboard...::

"ScreeEEEEEEEeeee!!!!"

:: Once he made the deck, he pulled his clothing straight, looked at the assembled crew, recognizing who was what, he bowed a shallow bow to Captain William and spoke...::

"Capita'n Hollande , I am Fernando Miguel Vasquez... I have been sent to you with messages from Don Francesch Manuel Vasquez..."

:: William nodded and smiled a tight lipped smile.. ::

"Welcome aboard Senior Vasquez... join me and my Officers in the Wardroom... por favor..."

:: he gestured to the way leading below...::

"Mmm... Gracias..."

::Mr. Lasseter took the lead, showing the way to the wardroom...::

[William Brand]

The small party reached the ward room to find Mister St. Anthony already waiting there. The Captain began making introductions once further guests joined them around the table.

"Let me introduce you to my Steward, Miss Smith."

Miss Smith, who was just entering the room with Armand, looked a little flushed, either from the company of Armand or the introduction. She curtsied formally and Vasquez bowed, no less surprised than previous visitors to find a woman serving as Ship's Steward.

"This is Armand, who served as messenger to our dispatch."

They exchanged pleasantries. Armand did so with grace and he seemed to be in his element, or at least more so than most of them in the room, although Mister St. Anthony carried himself with a certain bearing befitting court.

William introduced the others, beginning with Mister Lasseter and ending with Mister St. Anthony. After all were introduced, William invited them to sit and he passed each a glass, beginning with Vasquez.

"No doubt, you have come to discuss our dispatch. Please feel free to discuss any matters openly before the officers present."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Castillian nodded in accord to the Captain's statement of free speaking. Taking a seat, he turned his hawkish features towards William's placement at the table.

" Being that I am unkowing to the prowess of speaking held by all here, I shall keep to English..." He paused to survey the others present.

My brother, Don francesch Manuel Vasquez, has shown interest in what you have brought to his attention. The individual in question is what you might call...an irritation on a lesser scale. Though, his offenses run very deep on a personal level. My brother is willing to grant you audience in which to discuss these matters further."

The Castillian scrutinized William secretly and waited for response, sampling proffered glass.

[William Brand]

"Thank you."

William let a silence pass between them for a long time. It was long enough to make the room uncomfortable. Then he added, "When?"

[The Doctor]

Jack studied the Castillian over the top of his wine glass. A question nagged at him, but he decided to wait out the diplomatic tension that had arisen.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Gascon casually watched the interchange, though the briskness of the Capitain's short answer and the silence that hung the room made him uncomfortable. Interceding, Armand gained the Emmissary's attention and spoke in proper formal tongue asking forgiveness if any offense was taken by the Capitain's response or manner. he further relayed that they were at the Don's service and would be pleased to accommodate such a meeting at the Don's convienece.

The Castillian offered a small smile, which dispershed the dissaproval that had begun to gain ground over his expression. Turning back to center on the Captain, he spoke again.

" Captain Hollande, it is by the respectful letter of introduction given forth by another gentleman that has gained you some credibility. It would be wise not to dismiss that fact, nor mar it. Don Vasquez has requested your presence for dinner on the morrow's eve and that you are to provide further proof of that which you claim to hold in your possession."

[William Brand]

"Forgive me, Senor Vasquez, but my credibility is a glass half empty and half full. I am little more than a merchant in regards to matters of court. It is not my desire to offend. I am merely speaking as plainly as I can. As I said, my many thanks to Don Vasquez for his consideration. I cannot pretend that I understand those procedures of Spanish court beyond introduction and farewell. I know nothing of the middle."

He paused, refreshing the glass of Vasquez. He smiled, wearing a face void of guile or disdain. He was at his most common, and once he had smiled, he smiled again.

"You have a question, Mister St. Anthony?"

[The Doctor]

"Thank you , Captain. My curiousity is piqued: and please, Señor, if my question is out of line, I pray you take no offense."

He shifted to proper Spanish, having never quite mastered Castillian pronunciation. "¿Dígame, Señor Vasquez - qué ofensas nuestro pasajero confió?" ("Tell me, Mister Vasquez- what offences did our passenger commit?")

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Castillian gaged the Master at Arms briefly before replying that the man in question was greatly involved circumstances leading to the death of the Don's eldest son.

[The Doctor]

"Gracias, Señor. Acepte por favor mis condolencias. A grevious offense, indeed." Jack turned his gaze to the Captain, and nodded as if to say "I am not at all surprised."

[William Brand]

"Aye, Mister St. Anthony. Grevious."

William looked at Senor Vasquez with a nod and a smile that was sympathetic.

"My good, Senor, I believe that we must certainly have the man you are looking for. He seems to cause death wherever he goes. My crew...patient in the art of killing...have begged me often for the gift of shooting our good Captain Scully. He is a man of singular irritation. The dislike for him is contageous. We are become a plague ship with this infection aboard. I should very much like to be rid of him.

As for proof...

Mister Lasseter. Please bring our guest to the ward room."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mister Lasseter. Please bring our guest to the ward room."

Aye Cap'n....

Petición de su perdón...

::The QuarterMaster asked pardon as he stood, headed out of the ward room and down into the bowels of the ship, stopping at the armoury for some irons, then down to the bildge, where he was challenged by the guard...::

"Who comes this way? Oh, Quartermaster... just you..."

Aye Lad.... I come ta take th' gent fer a walk... be so kind as ta put these on 'im...

:: Mr. Lasseter hands the irons to the guard, then unlocks the door to the dank dark bildge... as the door swings open, Scully raises his hand to the brightness from without. shielding his eyes, trying to see who has come...::

Tis on'y me, Mr. Scully... I have a pistol on ye... no heroics... Go on lad lock 'im up an' help 'im stand....

::The guard steps past the Quartermaster, and goes about locking the shackles on Mr. Scully's wrists, then pulls him to his feet....::

"What's the meaning of this! Where are you taking me? "

:: demands the dutchman as he gains his footing...::

Oh, Cap'n wants ta see ye... mayhap share a glass o' wine... come now... give 'im a hand lad...

:: the guard grabs the dutchman by tha arm, pushing and pulling him, out the door as the QuarterMaster steps back, out into the passageway, then steps ahead, having them follow him... Up they go, and aft to the ward room, where Mr. Lasseter holds the door open ushering in the Dutchman....::

Here we be... my apologies about th' smell...

[William Brand]

How Captain Scully managed to still look haughty and superior under such conditions, William would never know. It seemed that no time spent below could take the edge of of his arrogance.

"Vat is this?" he spat.

It also seemed that no time spet away from him could ease the crew's mutual dislike of him. Mister Lasseter gave him a hard shove. Miss Smith's hand was on one of her pistols. Mister Badger had a hard smile that said, 'Five minutes alone'. Mister St. Anthony's eyes were cool, calculating.

William stood slowly. His smile was unpleasant in it's dangerous patience.

"Mister Scully, may I introduce the emissary and brother of one Don Francesch Manuel Vasquez."

[The Doctor]

Eyeing the miscreant Scully, Jack fought to hide his contempt. Given the opportunity, he'd have the Dutchman's head. Very, very slowly.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Castillian stood, not in any manner of respect, but instead to gain full view of the man in manicles. What hatred that may have shown amongst the men and woman of the frigate's crew paled in comparrison to what was shown on Vasquez's expression. Moving to closer proximity, the figure in tailored amber eyed the Dutchman with nothing less then contempt, and it was obvious that murderous intent boiled just below the cool outward appearance. The two men sized each other up as a silence weighed heavily in the room.

The partial slouch of resignation at name's mention, turned to defience as the Dutchmen strained forward against his keepers and with narrow of eye, spat two words...

"Spanish cur..."

The Castillian acted as if nothing had been heard, but the lightning quick strike of fist contacting Skully's jaw, negated that. As the Dutchman regained his footing and balance, the Castillian turned on heel and took his place of former seating. There was no acknowledgement of the captive after that, calmly turning his hawkish features to center on the Captain, he stated,

"You have done quite well and my brother, the Don, will be very pleased with the news I have for him. A carriage will be sent to the shoreline as the sun begins its decline and the Don shall await your arrival soon after. Feel free to bring who you see fit for the occassion. Now, I must give thanks to your hospitality and take my leave of you all."

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: once the procedings were over, the Quartermaster and the Able Seaman guard, roughly handled the dutchman back to the bildge, not bothering to take the irons from his wrists... ::

There... all comfy again.... back ta yer post lad...

::He turned on his heel and headed topside, just in time to see the head of their esteemed visitor drop below drck level over the side, to the awaiting launch... the quartermaster walked to his captain's side...::

All safe n' sound... til we take 'im ashore, aye?