Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

Sean took a deep breath. He knew if he drew quickly enough any pistol was a better match to a blade, but then any pistol could easily flash in the pan as well...

Still, had not his captain lost his eye to them that threatened him harm whilst performing his duty? Surely he could not back down either.

The elder midshipman took another breath. He hoped Mr. Hazzards was still about, but he did not wish to let his superiors down.

"Lady, I cannot be giving in to yer request," Sean said, his finger tightening on the pistol. "Tis my duty to do as I am told." And with that, the lad turned about rapidly and flung the violin case through the bookstore window.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sean Roberts expelled a sigh of exasperation, "T'underin' Jays..."

The case skitted to halt against table leg blockade and Calico lept to the floor en route to investigate intruder. Younger of Irish origins moved to the door and yanked it back, eyes narrowed to disturber's of peace.

"Now wha' we go' here? Someone lookin' to stake a claim? Tis a dim shame ta be makin' arses o' yerselves in fron' o' a respectable fellah's livelihood." His eyes narrowed a degree more while centering on the Professor. "Tis a cryin' shame, sirrah....Me t'inks ye don' wan' to be rousing certin' parties, if ye know wha' I mean. Go on now an' take the lass, too."

Sean's eyes fell on the boy, "Inside wit' ye, boyo..."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sean's eyes fell on the boy, "Inside wit' ye..."

The midshipman looked up with a sigh of relief. He waited as the newcomer finished scolding the others, then ducked inside under the younger man's arm.

"Tis about bloody time," Mr. Merriweather the elder mumbled under his breath.

[Aurore Devareaux]

The delivered decanter of brandy sat within easy reach, but had remained stationary for a passing of hours. The rain had finally given over its' rule, leaving behind gray cast skies and more tollorable temperatures. Aurore paused in reading of tome, listening to the soft intake and exhalation of Sterling's sleeping form while rhythmic drip of weather leavings fell from roof edge to fall haphazardly below.

She laid book aside, shifting position carefully to gaze upon his face in gentle repose. The Brandy had proven its' worth ten fold in allowing relaxation to the heavy tension plaguing him not overlong ago in the past and color had slowly returned to his features.

Aurore smiled in reaction to inner thoughts and wondered what he dreamed of while wandering the realms of Morpheus command.

[Capt. Sterling]

He stirred slightly, his sleep disturbed by the notion that someone was watching him. Slowly he opened his eyes, then blinked to clear his vision as best he could. Since Sterling had lost the sight in his left eye, he had always had trouble judging distances...something he relied heavily on his first officer to do for him.

But this was one time he was glad Mr. March was busy off elsewhere. He blinked once more trying to fathom whether or not a simple raising of his head would bring his lips into contact with Aurore's as she looked down upon him where he lay, or if more would be required of him to span the gap.

“Hello Chere,” he whispered and then decided it best he sit up first, but his sudden efforts only caused the pain of his wounds to coarse through his torso and it was all he could do to flop back ungracefully upon the mattress.

“Damnation!” he muttered angrily to himself.

[Aurore Devareaux]

His whispered greeting brought forth a small skip to heart's steadfast riff. Aurore frowned minutely as Sterling made to lift himself nearer, then gave in to body's clarion of warning. Landing heavily to cushioned give, a look of aggitation crossed his expression and she leaned closer with concern. A soft caress was laid to his cheek, dispersing scowl as she spoke softly.

"Please relax, Sucre'....There is no need for gallant gestures."

[Capt. Sterling]

"Please relax, Sucre'....There is no need for gallant gestures."

Her words forced a chuckle from him. With a grin he looked up at her.

"Gallant my foot," he laughed almost cautiously. "I was being selfish."

[Aurore Devareaux]

She eyed him skepticly, "Truly....Selfish? Then perhaps I could be charged and convicted of such crimes, as well."

Leaning closer, a kiss of deepest virtues was given.

[Capt. Sterling]

The groan that left him, when she parted from him, was not from any pain but from the hunger she produced in him.

"I want more of those," he whispered, his good hand reaching up to tangle gently in a stray curl. "Years and years more."

[Aurore Devareaux]

A mischievous glint played the rich hue of olive sights, "Then perhaps a goodly amount of practice should be tended to in order to assure years of satisfaction in such matters...."

[Capt. Sterling]

His hand quickly disengaged itself from the silken lock and moved to her cheek, fingers slowly tracing along fine jaw line then to soft lips.

"Par Dieu, ma amour, je vous veux," he whispered.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Closing her eyes to the tenderness of his touch, Aurore savored the render of silkened words. She was lost for reply, or perhaps it was an unwillingness to disturb the perfection of the momment. Life was too unpredictable, but at this brief blink of eternity's eye, the world seemed to spin on perfect axis and the great balance hung without list.

[Ransom]

Sean's eyes fell on the boy, "Inside wit' ye..."

The midshipman looked up with a sigh of relief. He waited as the newcomer finished scolding the others, then ducked inside under the younger man's arm.

"Tis about bloody time," Mr. Merriweather the elder mumbled under his breath.

With reluctance, I let the boy go. No point in causing more of a ruckus than we already had. Yet, it was strange. Why would he toss a violin case through the window? This shop of books, was becoming more and more a shop of mysteries.

"Let's go," I said to Trilby.

He stood staring at the broken window. "Now, I wonder what that was all about?"

"Maybe this strange captain didn't like his latest volume?" I looked once more at the shop. Shadows drifted behind the windows, but I could see no clear face. I picked up my volume of Peppys, that excentric Englishman, which I had dropped during the altercation with the young boy.

"Do you wish to persue the boy?" Trilby asked, suddenly as curious as I was.

"No. Let's wait for Andre's message. It is a meeting I look forward too."

Trilby huffed. "Yea may change your mind, once yea do. Andre'...Andre' is like a shadow. Yea never see beyond the darkness."

"I've dealt with a lot of darkness. Andre' will be no different."

[CrazyCholeBlack]

The tension in her chest was eased at the bright smile that crossed her companions face. Apparently her misstep was more amusing that insulting. It was a relief. There had been too many times in her past where she’d said the wrong thing with terrible results. Unfortunately, not every time could be blamed on to much drink.

“Oh, manners!” Jane gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth in feigned astonishment “I fear I’m quite lacking as well. I’m Jane Melchert.” The name felt foreign in her mouth. A wash of rum cleared the discomfort.

She took the opportunity to give her escort a good look. His blue eyes were cold but surprisingly captivating. His stern demeanor faded just slightly as he smiled. Most noticeable though was the sizable collection of pistols he carried about his person. Jane’s eyes drifted down to the loose weapon at his side and the hand hovering over it. She found herself wondering again about why he waited & whether it would be wise stay and find out.

“A toast to you Mr. Striker. May whom ever you wait for arrive before your pint is dry” The filled glass was raised in her thin fingers again but never reached her lips.

This time it was her eyes that wandered, to the far end of the bar where a small ruckus was beginning. An oversized man came rushing down from the upper floor of the Inn. He charged over to the barkeep, waving his arms wildly & pointing back up the stairs. The barman huffed, slamming down the bottle in his hand. He spun on a heel, rummaging in a crammed drawer behind him. He faced the bar again; thrusting a pistol into the large man’s hands before grabbing him by the sleeve & hustling him back up the narrow incline. Jane watched the exchange, curiosity furrowing her brow. A crash from up the stairs was barely audible over the tavern’s evening dim. Another, heavier crash shook the upper floor, followed by the familiar cough of pistol fire.

[Captain Striker]

“Oh, manners!” Jane gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth in feigned astonishment “I fear I’m quite lacking as well. I’m Jane Melchert.”

"Nice to make your acquaintance Mistress Melchert." said Striker while he noticed that Jane's eyes caught the sight of his pistols. He saw that her facial expression changed , and that she was thinking about how good a idea it was to sit near him .

Before Striker could say something to calm her down . He saw that her attention was moved towards the Barman that ran up the stairs as if the Devil was right behind.

“A toast to you Mr. Striker. May whom ever you wait for arrive before your pint is dry” The filled glass was raised in Jane's thin fingers again but never reached her lips.

Short time after that the sound of a gun being fired was heard , closely followed by another shot .

Of all of the inns in the Port this one seemed to have a curse over it when it came to murder. First the barmaid , then Killingsworth and now this. All of them happened over a short period of time.

It was not some thing Striker needed at the moment . What would happen now ? Would the Inn be closed before Sterling would be warned ?

[Ransom]

Ioan hadn't paid much attention to the ruckus in the hallway—too intent on the Lady before him— until the pistol went off. He spun around and opened the door just enough to peer out. Gunpowder clouded the narrow space of the hall. Before he could decide whether to check further, a second round went off, echoing like thunder in the confined space.

Having no desire to be struck dead in the cause of someone else's problem, he backed away and shut the door.

Turning to Miss Saint Claire, he shrugged. "Interesting place you've chosen to take lodging. However, you might want to step to the back of the room, just in case a ball comes through the wall."

[Ian Finn]

Before Liam could collect his thought, a thud was heard at the door with the person behind it frantically trying the handle. Suddenly a shot comes through the door. Diving behind the table, I reach for the pistol that was sitting on the bed. Liam jumps over the bed and grabs the sack of silver. He tosses me his pistol as well. I back to the wall as a foot is rammed into the door splintering the lock. The door swings wildly open with a man raging through the door. The man levels his pistol at Liam. "Bad luck 'ere t'day fer ya," I say to the man. "Wha..." the man spins to face me as my first shot finds it's mark tearing apart part of his skull and replacing it on the back wall. The man collapses in a heap on the floor. Liam grabs his pistol and places it in his belt. Sliding open the window Liam climbs onto the sloping roof. Peering into the hallway I see a door close slightly as if someone had been watching. I stuff the pistols into my belt and drag the man from in front of the door. Closing the door, I replace the body behind it, latching the door with the human lifeless lump now oozing all over the floor. With Liam already on the roof he slides to the edge and hangs over. I climb through the window and reach the edge and toss the sack over to him waiting beneath. "'urry now Ian." With a thud, I hit the ground and withdraw the single pistol, still loaded from my belt. Liam begins to run down the alley behind the Inn with me quick on his tail.

[Liam Finn]

As we make our way into the night, away from the Shipp Inn, I am furious. So much in fact I cannot find the words with which to curse the owner of the retched Inn. We make our way back and around the town finally stopping somewhere on the other side of the port. We're both winded from the running and as luck would have it, there was a tavern right acros the street from where we stopped. "Brudder, looks like fine place. Shall we?" Ian looks the tavern up and down. He shrugs his shoulders. "Look fine tae me. I needs a drink, an so do you." Aye, that I do brudder Finn, that I do. " I carefully hoist the sack over my shoulder and we cross the street into the tavern, find a spot inside at a table near the rear and have some beer. We chat with some of the other folks who seem friendly enough, and we can tell not everything here is on the level, so we make inquiries in a subtle way about who might like some wares. Within three hours time we are no longer burdened with the sack and are several pounds richer. A fine sum even if it was not even a quarter of what the silver was worth. We settle back in at a table at the tavern and have a meal. While we eat I finally can hold back any more. "Well Ian. . . . tha bastard of a innkeeper tried ta do us, now we dne his man in, but tha ain't good nuff. . . . tomorra, or maybe the day next, we're gonna make im wish he done us right. But we'll do it quiet like. Slip a knife under is ribs or open up is throat." Ian just nods with a dark look on his face. "Well thas settled. . . I'm tired think we can trust the owner o this place?" Ian looks at the room, drains his beer and burps. "We'll trust em this nite."

[CrazyCholeBlack]

The bark of pistol fire sent all but the drunkest patron to their feet. Woman gasped and tucked themselves behind burly, well armed men. Jane stood quickly, still eyeing the rear incline, her hand clenched into a fist as she cursed her missing knife. The boisterous crowd fell deathly silent at the sound of another fired shot. All heads swiveled towards the rear stairway. Several patrons decided that the excitement was more than they needed and slipped out the front door in to the cool evening. The entire pub seemed to be holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Eh, you three. Get up thar, see wot that lout Carter’s doin’ ta me Inn.” The bar man bellowed in the quiet room. The three appointed men paused at the first step, drawing their knives before filing into the chaos. There was a crash and a muffled yell before one of the three returned. He spoke in low tones to the barkeeper, nodded and returned to the upper floor.

“Nothin’ ta worry yer selves bout now. Back ta yer drinkin’.” The gray haired man bellowed again, shooing the crowd back into their seats. Conversation slowly hummed to life as the patrons followed his direction. Drawing as little attention as possible the barman gestured to a thin young boy. He spoke quickly into the boy’s ear. There was a flash of fear across the lads face before he nodded and obediently disappeared through a back hallway. Jane watched the boy go, resisting the urge to follow. She had her own concerns to deal with. The last thing she needed was to get involved in someone else’s quarrel.

With the excitement waning, Jane settled back into her seat. She downed the dregs of rum from her glass. A slight trickle on her lips wiped away unceremoniously with the back of a hand. The indelicate move was not missed by her companion who eyed her with amusement.

“At least your wait isn’t a dull one.” Jane remarked, raising a brow to Striker. “Now, what was this ye said about a little sup?” Jane thought back to the rock of hardtack and heavily watered rum that had been common faire aboard the Anna Rae. “I dare say my last meal was less than favorable.”

[Captain Striker]

Striker kept his eyes open if trouble should come down the stairs . He also noticed that Jane made a move as if looking for a some kind of weapon , which clearly she had forgotten to take with her . The girl started to intrigue him .

The Barkeep started to settle people down , which ment that if something foul had happened it would not be reported . In other words , Striker was safe to wait for Mr. March's answer under the roof of the inn and not under the cold carpet of the stars .

Jane sat down and drank her glass. She then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand , not even trying to hide the unlady like behavior. It put a smile on Striker's lips. Indeed the lass was most intrigueing to Striker .

“At least your wait isn’t a dull one.” Jane remarked, raising a brow to Striker. “Now, what was this ye said about a little sup? I dare say my last meal was less than favorable.”

"Your right , there is not a dull moment at the Shipp . And yes let's eat " Striker made a sign to the barmaid to come over . " two of your finest meals and a bottle of port , please ."

"Thank you for joining me for supper , always hated eating alone !" said Striker to Jane while looking her into her eyes.

[Jack Roberts]

I sat drinking my reward. Probably enjoying one of my last meals on land. The ship should be ready soon. I dreaded going out to sea again. I could just stay here for awhile.

"Maybe if I talk to Ritter. I've done my share." I thought as I downed another swig of ale.

These 2 men come strolling inside. With thier heavy accents they pawned off some items from thier bag.

"Aye would ye be wantin' anything?" one of the men asked.

"Not tonight, thank you." I replied and I drew back into my tankard.

[Cheeky Actress]

"Is that fresh bread I smell?" deflected Reiley, as he tried to change the subject. "You know Abbi makes the best bread in the Port. A shame she dosn't sell it at market."

Lilly just gave the good doctor a smile. “Abbi, he’s awake…and hungry, too.” The old woman came closer to the table. “Well…come to join the living, have you?” She said with a mocking tone. “Aye, there, there boy…we’ll be moving you to a proper bed this morning. I’ll be fixing you a bit of breakfast, but first…drink this.” Abbi handed the doctor over a cup of hot tea. Taking a large gulp of the concoction, he quickly made a face. “Good God woman!” He shouted as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You will send me to the devil if you ask me to drink any more of that horrid stuff!” “Oh come now, dearie…” Abbi said with a smile and giving him a wink. “don’t be cursing me for you own handy work. That be the very thing you gave me when I was ailing with the gout!” The doctor could only roll his eyes. Abbi needled him again to take another sip. “Oh..for the love of God…all right…but only one more sip, Abbi then no more!” He obliged her once more then laid his head back down on the pillow. “Keep this up and you’ll be sleeping with the dogs …again!” She said taking the cup away.

Lilly suddenly felt Reiley take her hand. “You’ve been up all night watching me?” He asked in a low whisper. “Of course.” Lilly said whispering back. “We cannot afford to loose the best doctor in Port Royal.” It was then his eyes softened as if he was in distant thought. “Thank you Mistress.” She smiled in return and as she was about to release her grip, his grew tighter. “He’s the fool…,” he muttered as he looked up at her again. The words and the comment came to her out of nowhere. She did not expect him to state his opinion or say anything about the matter that past at the cottage the day before. Her eyes said it all and then he released her hand. “I must get some sleep, Reiley. I will have Davis move you to Abbi’s room. I shall be upstairs in attic room if anyone wishes to see me. I bid you good night.” She made her way to the narrow little flight of stairs and hopefully she would be able to find sleep…if only for a little while.

[Cheeky Actress]

Perhaps to find some sleep...only for a little while, Mistress McKinney could only think of her life and what had gone before. She thought back to her days when the Captain first met her...or was it that she met him. She closed her eyes and dreamt...

In the dark shadows of a narrow alleyway, Lilly skirted her way towards London Bridge all under the guise of her soft velvet mask. The cold winds of autumn sprang up as she drew her cape close to her. A man and a woman rushed by her. He and his whore made their way to one of the many shoddy stick framed houses on the bridge. For a moment, she thought he may have recognized her, but she was mistaken. She fancied this new trend of fashion, this disguise that made her life bearable. To her, it was almost liberating knowing that she could move about Old London Town without a care of being scene or being scene with whomever she liked. She made it a custom to dress in her dark blue gown and caplet and hide away from those who flocked to her stage door after her performances and she would always disappear from those who wanted to see her the most. Her adoring fans flocked to her like moths to fire, but she never truly felt comfortable with it...and perhaps she never would. She walked slowly through the muddied streets until she came upon the tavern called, "The Slaughter Lamb". It was here she felt at ease, expressing herself and her moods freely. She opened the door slowly as the tavern owner looked up from his bar. He smiled and offered her a seat next to the fire. "Good to see you back, Lady." He whispered as he showed her to her chair. She said nothing, but only nodded at his kindness. It was then she drew from her cuff a gold coin. With a nod the tavern owner left a bottle of wine and key to his best room. As she sat and warmed herself by the fire, then paused and thought to herself about the strange talk about town. Rumors circulated about the theater that made her smile a bit. One stated that she was nothing more than a spirit or a ghost; skillfully dodging anyone and everyone who tried to find her. This game of cat and mouse made her feel empowered in a strange sort of way. She fancied it...she loved to play such games. It was in her blood to be able to out think the other's ability to win. Yes, trickery was a wonderful asset to have in life, but as long as you have the right Aponte to make it worth your while. She looked up from the fire and watched the tavern door open quickly. It was there she saw the pale skinned Captain. Her eyes took him in and discovered that he still looked and pale from being ill at the theater earlier that evening. He was drawn and confused from being turned away from her dressing room door by her dogsbody. With that thought in mind she thought, perhaps tonight she would give chase to that gallant young Captain who almost tripped her up earlier in the night.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Burke and Roberts met eyes briefly as the boy entered the shop, it was a fleet of moment that spoke volumes in its' silence. This odd manner of communication was not such an anomoly to those in the trade; an understanding that could very well save one's hide under certain scenarios. The door was returned to closure as the young boy gave bold front of courage to captive audience. Calico gave inquiring look away from case inspection as young Sean bent cautiously near. A slight flush raced his cheeks in reaction to the scattering of glazier diamonds acting as courtiers to violin guardian.

While youngster was busy with flustered thoughts, Irish duo slipped towards former chamber. As door was opened, Stockton was heard to address slayer of windows; politely giving query as to what service might be given. The reply given brought halt to sanctuary aquisition, drawing twin Celt attentions to focus on unlikely carrier pigeon...

Merriweather cleared his throat in effort to ease jaggled nerves, his voice gaining certainty as it flowed into lamp luminated surround,

"I would like to puchase a copy of...." he stalled fleetingly then gained assured progress. "Sir, I would like to purchase a volume of....Measure for Measure...Sir....Please."

Henri Stockton's features gained quizical hint as glanced towards where he knew the other two would be lingering.

[Captain Striker]

The supper was served by the bar maid that kept blushing every time she neared Striker .

"I think she fancies you !" said Jane before she filled her mouth with meat stew .

Striker took a sip fom his glass of port , and put it back on the table .

"does not matter if she does or does not ... well not at present time at least " answered Striker while he was looking at Jane eating her heart out .

It seemed to him that she must not have eaten for a couple of days . The ferocious way the food went into her mouth surprised him. He did not want to insult her bypointing it out to her . He decided just to eat his meal instead of explaining etiquette and table manners to the lass. He did not want her to leave his side , he actually really enjoyed her company and loved that she was so unpredictable.

A faint smile came upon his lips . Jane saw it and one could see the blood rushing to her cheeks on her fair skin .