Pyrates of the West Coast

[William Brand]

::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?

"I don't believe we are. I don't believe we are, Mister Lasseter."

"Cap'n...?"

William turned to the Quartermaster. He made to speak several times, but shook his head instead.

"Is something the matter, Cap'n?"

"Not yet, Mister Lasseter. Something is troubling me. Unfortunately, I don't know what it is that is troubling me, but I trust my instincts. When I go ashore, I shall leave you here and in command of all. I cannot remain here and miss what opportunity might be gleaned by going, but should I not return, please send this port to Hell."

"With pleasure, Cap'n."

They both smiled.

"Armand. A word if you please."

Armand broke off his conversation with Miss Smith. He made his way over to the taffrail. "Capitaine."

"I have been on many oceans, Armand. Many oceans. I have commanded on more than one occasion. And whenever I enter unknown waters, I like to test for sharks."

"Capitaine?"

"The best way to test for sharks is to make one's self vulnerable. To spread a little of one's own blood on the water. I may sometimes seem foolish, even uncultured, or clumsy in my conversation. Trust me when I say I am not. I am testing the water. I would appreciate it very much if you would not apologize about me or for me in front of my crew to a stranger, again."

"Capitaine, it was not my intention to..."

William held up a hand. He smiled warmly.

"I am not angry. You have never done anything except what you felt you had to do. You have taken your share of risks, and since you are here, you probably will again."

He clapped his hand on Armand's shoulder. "Just don't run away with my Steward."

Armand's smile was broad.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Gascon gave a slight inclination of head in assent to William's last statement, the broad smile replaced by a more solem expression. Sight fleeting to the young girl beyond then back to the man before him, Armand regained composure and standing with regimental propriety, replied, "Non, Capitaine...I could never do such a thing. I...Mademoiselle has duty to you and here has found a secure place to be. If there is nothing else by which I can do you sevice, then I beg your leave to go below."

William once again smiled warmly, "No, that will be all. Thank you."

Armand nodded then stepping to the side, aproached the Quartermaster who stood the opposit rail. The two men conversed quietly, making jests and bantering as if to disperse the semi-heavy mood that floated the air. In the distance, they both took note of sail making steady passage towards the bay. Speculating the type and origin of the newcomer, Dorian requested a 'glass from near standing hand and focused out to sea. A few moments passed and as She beat up against the wind, Dorian noted her title along port bow. Without dropping the glass away, he spoke his observations, " Looks to be a merchant man....brigantine...flying company and French colors....I canna' make out her pennant..." he paused, " But I be t'inkin' that Her name be somt'in like...hmmm....g-r-a-c-i-e-u-x..."

"Graceful, mon ami." Armand said.

"V-o-y-a....." Dorian shook his head, unable to make the rest out.

" Is the pennant bleu-green?" The Gascon, inquired.

Dorian refocused his centering then nodded affrimation as he dropped the glass from sight and raised a brow to his companion. The young Frenchman placed both hands on the rail, eyes unwavering from the object of their curiosity, " V-o-y-a-g-e, mon ami. She is the Graceful Journey, and belongs to my uncle's fleet..." He said nothing more for the passing of minutes, then turned to the Quartermaster offering an easy smile, " You will pardon me, Dorian...I desire to replace these hot trappings for something more climate friendly. Velvet is most unkind in this temperature."

Turning away, he walked to where the Captain's Steward had remained at their parting and as she noticed his proximity, Armand offered her a bow. Stepping closer to where Miss Smith stood, he spoke in his quiet manner," Mademoisselle, things are of uncertain outcome as they stand. If the opportunity arises, my offer to escort you ashore still stands and I beg your forgiveness in advance, if that is not possible. As regretable as it is to me, I must go below and part your company for now."

The Gascon offered her an apologetic cast of expression, then continued below.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Stopping first at the Galley, Armand then continued on to the Surgeon's cabin. Setting the tray bearing china pot down on the planking below, he eased open the door to find the smallish room occupied.The pixie features turned from scribing in process to focus on door's gape, watching retrieval of brew's vessel and it's overseer step through threshold. Nothing was said for a moment as he removed coat, waistcoat and shirt as she looked on. Her thoughts turned to the fact that the lithe form that stood near had been the same small tow haired child that used to follow her relentlessly. Had time passed so quickly? Would it continue to do so? A blink of an eye and years slip through one's fingers with such rabid passage like thieves in the night. Glancing her direction, Armand paused in the removal of boot and smiled easily at her and she caught a hint of the boy peeking through the features of four and twenty years.

Having changed into simple linen breeches, the Gascon took seating next to her at the small table. The coffee poured, he related the what had occured within the Great cabin with vivid detail and the events that followed afterward. Tempest kept silent council, though occassionally, her expression betrayed inward mental process and judgments. The mention of sail peaked her interest, setting the fragile vessel of fine bone down, she bit fullness of lower lip unconsiencously.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

The night was getting late as Tudor wandered about deck, after having given up on sleep. The meeting with Senor Vasquez was playing over and over in her head. She wasn't sure she trusted him enough to want to give up her position in the line to kill Scully to him . . . but yet it wasn't enough to take her mind off other things . . . the cool night breezes blew past her as she skulked in the shadows, hoping no one would see her clad only in a pair of bloomers and a sleeveless chimmy.

The interlude with Vasquez wasn't the only part of the afternoon that kept playing over in her head. She was never one to assume anything, she knew better. But she was very nearly sure she wan't making any assumptions where the elusive surgeon's steward was concerned. But all she was convincened of was that he had an odd effect on her knees, and the stable state of her stomach.

She sat herself on a barrel on the deck and watched the stars and pondered as the rise and fall of the ship lulled her into a half somnulent state.

[William Brand]

"It is a lovely, warm night, don't you think, Miss Smith?"

Tudor Smith jumped up so fast that she almost upset the barrel she was sitting on. She looked as flustered as he had seen her, and his casual smile and 'what-do-we-have-here?' look certainly didn't help.

"Captain...I...I..."

"As a privateer I don't expect a uniform appearance among the crew." William began, a smile still playing about his lips, "After all, we are no one's navy and cannot be expected to maintain a certain conduct of dress. While we all might share a certain esprit de corps, we are each allowed to dress according to our whims...still..."

"Captain...I..."

William smiled. "Aye. It is a very lovely and warm night."

She was three shades of red darker by the time he stopped grinning like a cat. He gave her a wink and turned on his heel and began humming a tavern tune as he walked away along the dark deck, tapping swinging his cane and tapping it on the deck as he went. He looked more like a gentleman in a city park, than a captain then.

[Dorian Lasseter]

7 July, 1704

Dawn

::The dawn of a new day finds the QuarterMaster on deck, reviewing the ships logs in the dawn light. Soon, other crewmembers find their way to conciousness and begin the daily activities...::

Mornin' Mr. Badger... kindly run up th' signal flag fer the shore party... they been away long enough... time fer th' next group ta head ashore fer their liberty...

::While the Bo'sun does his duty, Mr. Lasseter puts his head back in the books... seeing how far their wealth might get them...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Restlessness directed the Gascon to the upper reaches of planked plain. Gaining the Main deck, he paused to intake and appreciate the quality of air and noticed who was about. Offering a hail of friendly wave to the Quartermaster, he continued to the rail to focus on the sea going vessals moored there. After scanning the area, the coolness of grey sight fell to the quary he searched for.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor wandered the decks, this time in the early morning light. Sometimes it seemed she never sleeped. She walked past as the the Quatermaster gave the order to bring the crew on leave back to ship. She smiled and bobbed in a half curtsie to the officer, hoping that she would be on the next shift for leave.

She froze in her steps as she saw a familiar back standing at the rail. "Hello," She said hesitently as she approached Armand.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Gascon appeared lost in private thoughts, his attention totally centered to a specific area of the bay. The voicing that sounded to his ears made way to bring him back to where he stood and turning to it's owner he smiled warmly.

" Pardon mademoissell...my mind was elsewhere. You shall have to forgive my rudeness in reception."

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor's face pinked. "No, I should be the one apologising - I didn't mean to interrupt . . . I jsut saw you standing there . . . I thought . . . or, well . . . I should have realised you were alone for a reason. I didn't mean to interrupt your reverie . . ." She took a few steps back. "Please, don't let me interrupt." She paused, and looked behind her, as if to make sure there was a clear escape path, but then paused before running. "I was just going to ask if you knew if you were going ashore in the next shift or not," She shrugged, "But . . .I . . . I'm just going to . . ." She stammered then pointed away as if to offer to leave him to his thoughts.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

His brow furrowed to her discomfort, moving to close the distance Armand stopped at respectful distance. Reaching to one of her hands he offered the proffer of reverance then raising to full stature spoke with sooth.

"Non....Your company is always a plasir, mademoiselle...Never a disruption. If you requesting an escort ashore, than I will consider it an honour to do so."

[Dorian Lasseter]

::the QuarterMaster, tho deep in thought of what to take to shore for trade, saw Armand's wave, and gave a nod of head in return. He then wrote up a list, closed the log, and put it away... Looking up, he saw an interesting exchange between the two Stewards, which made him come to a decision... slowly he walked down to the waist, towards the two Stewards...::

Miss Smith, Armand.... I shall be heading ashore with the next trip of the cutter, I'll be taking trade goods, and would like you both to join me... I would make it a request an' not a command...

:: He smiled at the two of them, waiting for a response... as he did, the lookout reported to the deck that the cutter was making way towards the ship...::

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor smiled, and nodded her consent to the Quatermaster, and watched as he left, avoiding looking at the man at her side. She blushed some more, and decided to be frank. "That was the only reason I asked. To see if you still wanted to go with me" She hesitantly looked at him. "I . . .You . . ." She blinked a couple of times, then looked at him again. "Usually I'm very good with words and not such a blundering fool as you see me." She explained. "I don't know what it is about you . . . either way . . . either way, I'll just shut my mouth now and stop confusing the life out of you." She said with bluster and a broad grin, trying to cover up her vulnerability.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Armand noted Dorian's approach and gave a nod of acknowledgement. Listening to the proposal, he replied.

" Magnifique...It would be a pleasure to do such. Let me know of an approximate time and I shall ready for the venture, mon ami."

Watching after the Quartermaster's departure momentarily, he refocused on gentle company and suppressed his amusement to her fluster, "Shhhh, mademoiselle...There is no reason to explain. I shall guard and accompany you ashore."

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

"Merci, Armand." She said, then closed the distance between them and stood on tip-toe, placing a sweet peck on his cheek.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The brush of lips brought her close enough in which to give the briefest hint of scent, some oil that was unfamilliar to him and spiced in undertones. Control forced overrule to instinct and he restrained what impulses raced to the forefront of his mind. Keeping regimental cool, Armand resisted his temptations, and watched as she regained former standing. Leaning forward to her hearing, the Gascon whispered,

"Mademoiselle, you honour me with such favors and make me regret that such things are not more tangible so that I might be able to wrap and keep your gift close."

As he righted himself, he allowed the hint of touch to the daint ear who's delicate shape had captured his wording.

[William Brand]

William walked out into the morning light and shaded his eyes with his hat. He took note of the signal flag and wondered who might be awake ashore to see it. Mister Lasseter was in the attitude of leaving ship and he stopped to converse with him.

"Good morning, Mister Lasseter."

"Good morn, Cap'n."

"Before the day is over, I should like Mister Badger and Kendra to go ashore for spare sail and line. Perhaps we might also purchase some modest cannon for the cutter, if the chance arises."

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor smiled seductivly, and this time the smile wasn't to hide nerves. "Perhaps things might change ashore?" She asked coyly, not taking her eyes from him. "For now, I must be sure I finish my chores before I go ashore, but for now let me asure you . . ." Once more she stood on tiptoe and returned the favour of wispering in his ear. " The favour is yours anytime you wish it." She then quickly spinned, while still on tiptoes, her hair brushing his face ever so slightly, and thn ran towards the ward room, as quickly as she could, one hand gently holding the ear his whispered into. She paused only once in her flight to look back to gage his reaction, then dissappered below.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Before the day is over, I should like Mister Badger and Kendra to go ashore for spare sail and line. Perhaps we might also purchase some modest cannon for the cutter, if the chance arises."

Aye Cap'n... I'll add it to me list...

::He unfolded a packet of parchment, then realized he needed quill pen and ink...::

Beg pardon... Oh, you there... Pass word ta Kendra, 'ave her be ready ta head ashore in three turns o' th' glass... Mr. Badger! Yer ta be comin' along next trip... see yerse'f ready as well...

::he then made his way back to the quarterdeck, withdrew pen and ink from the binnacle and added to his list of the day... looking up towards shore, he saw the cutter getting larger, now that the morning shift in the wind from seaward to shoreward was working with and not against the small craft...::

[William Brand]

The Captain thanked Mister Lasseter and then went below to the galley. Constance and De la Vega were hard at work preparing for the return of the first shore leave survivors. A strong meal of greasy meat and heavy bread was being added to a menu of cabbage, fruit and coffee.

William filled a cup and stood conversing with the cooks at length, wondering again when Mister Gage could take up duties here in the galley. The man was having a rough time of it, and his recovery was slow.

Meg Wardell passed from the companionway and asked what service she might make for the day. He sent her topside to assist Mister Lasseter with his offloading of goods.

When William had filled a second cup, he went to the gun deck to receive those crew members returning from shore. He was anxious to learn all he could about the moods and customs of La Margarita.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Tudor smiled seductivly, and this time the smile wasn't to hide nerves. "Perhaps things might change ashore?" She asked coyly, not taking her eyes from him. "For now, I must be sure I finish my chores before I go, but for now let me asure you . . ." Once more she stood on tiptoe and returned the favour of wispering in his ear. " The favour is yours anytime you wish it." She then quickly spinned, while still on tiptoes, her hair brushing his face ever so slightly, and then ran towards the ward room, as quickly as she could, one hand gently holding the ear his whispered into. She paused only once in her flight to look back to gage his reaction, then dissappered below.

Armand watched after her, and though it did not register upon his face, he was slightly preplexed. It was not that he was in any way inexperienced in stratagies involved in obtaining "company". Running the series of events over in his mind, he puzzled over the sudden change of manner. Aggressive plays were not intimdating, there had been a fair share of encounters while on campaigne where the gentle sex had shown a lust for the hunt. He mused, considering woman he had known that had been flighty and eventually succumbed...But never could he recollect an encounter with one so flighty that did about face and became huntress so quickly. Turning back to view the bay again, her words played his mind, ' Perhaps things might change ashore...The favor is yours anytime you wish it...." The smile she had offered, very carnal in undertone and very sure in its' intent.

Pulling deeply salt tinged air into his lungs, Armand turned from the rail to go below. His step hesitated just once with a glance landward to lite upon a brigantine that rocked at anchor's security.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::while awaiting the cutter's return, the Quartermaster had the trade good that were to be taken ashore swayed up from the hold, now the deck was encumbered with several chests, crates, and barrels... there were packs of cloth, dyes for clothing and paint, spices, etc. All would bring a hefty profit, and resupply the Watch Dog well... Once he was satisfied with the progress, he made his way below to his cabin, where he took a portion of his own small wealth from hidden stash, checked that he had his arms in order and his clothes presentable. He took his hair out of it's que, combed it fine and reworked back to it's former, then tucking his hat under his arm, headed to see the Surgeon...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Gascon and the Surgeon sat by the old desk, a bottle of sherry betwixt and conversed in hushed voices over impending probabilities in the near future and the effects there of. A soft rap on the sick ward's large oaken door paused the stream of voicings. Looking to the entrance Tempest called for the visitor to enter.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::He entered to the beconing from within, where he found the Surgeon and Armand, looking to be in conversation...::

My apologies... I'm interruptin' ye...

"Non... Please join us....

::said the Surgeon with a warm smile, and a kind look from Armand as well... ::

Thankee... I assume Armand 'as told ye... I's headin' ashore wi' some o' our cargo, ta sell 'r trade fer wot we needs... And Armand'll be joinin' me... among others... mebee we c'n keep 'rselves out o' trouble...

:: a grin split his face::

Well... I'll be back afore dark, as th' cap'n 'as need ta go ashore... some dealin's wi' th' Don I believe... So...

Might there be anythin' ye need brougt back?

Or will it wait til ye c'n head ashore yerself?

::He looked at her, watching the thoughts play across her eyes, as not much was seen in her expression::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon thought for a moment before replying, her eyes catching his for a brief than moving away, "Non, merci...You have enough to deal with, I have no wish to make your time away any more cumbersome."

The green sights slyed to him again and stayed a moment, then she shifted her seating as a way of making excuse to break eye contact.

"Perhaps there may be an opportunity for me to go ashore later."

Armand watched the dance play out between the two others and acted as if there was nothing to be noted.

" Do be careful while you are away...." She paused, considering. " A bottle of wine would be wonderful. You choose and perhaps we can delve into its qualities upon your return."

The Gascon stood from his seating in effort to mask the smug expression creeping onto his features.