Roleplay Live : A Pirate’s Life.

Port Royale

The Wretched Wagon

https://i0.wp.com/fc06.deviantart.net/fs48/f/2009/184/7/4/Pirates_Tavern_by_Hofarts.jpg

Players:
VincentiVanity
FireStar32005
CharlotteCarrendar

VincentiVanity: -Valentine had been out on the dock for a few hours now just sitting, thinking, and drinking. His mind filled with thoughts of his past and his brother…. of how things use to be, back when they were kids playing Pirates, Val would always fight to be the Pirate King and it was up to Victor to make sure he didn’t get in too much trouble. Considering that that was the base of their lives, of how every time he got his head into deep his brother was there to pull him out…’time after time after fucking time…..’ the thoughts that ran through his head as he took another sip from his bottle, ‘Why must he always be there…. always saving me ass.’ his eyes were drawn over his shoulder to a set of young sailors walking towards his back both carrying a look discouraging look on their faces.- “Hey, they be calling you Valentine right?” -to this Val just nodded- “You be the same Valentine that we heard about a few years back… they blames you for a massacre near Port Havana, We be hearing them talk that nearly two hundred died after you went on a rampage and sunk one of those passenger ships….” -the two men scoffed and laughed mocking him in tone and posture as they spoke, the look on the both men’s face hardened a bit as the tightened the grips to their pistols as Valentine pushed himself off the ground and looked at both men eye to eye. His voice cried out growing louder in both tone and pitch as he spoke- “I killed. But I didn’t just kill fifty, I didn’t kill a hundred. I killed a thousand. I killed TEN thousand! And I was good at it. And it wasn’t for vengeance, it wasn’t for greed. It was because… I liked it. Do you know who I am? I am Valentine LaChance, the infamous Jack of Hearts. When mothers warn their children that the monster under their bed would get them, that monster is me. I am the nightmare that keeps them awake at night. Is that what you want to hear?!”-it took every ounce of his will not to sock the club then and there, but to take a sip of his whiskey and turn his back. Val’s path lead directly towards the nearest bar, one of his more favoured establishments in these types of ports, a place where a person like himself might find work, rum for drinking, or a whore for bedding. He was in pique physical condition, tall as a young tree, lithe, immensely strong, able to swiftly shoot down any who opposed him with merely a flick of his wrist and a flex of his finger, endowed with the tremendous vitality of a youthful Dutch, being known so as hard and resistant to hurt that he went only in light shoes over rock or through snow. At the young age of 26 he had already built a reputation as being a skilled gunner and marksman, valuable skills he acquired during his short tenure with the Dutch navy. –

CharlotteCarrendar: – The Bar was full this eve, with plenty of sailors and gamblers, ashore from various vessels, that lined the docks. The stench of cigar smoke, blended with manly sweat, and of course ale and rum, was a right mix, enough to make a fine lady gag, or a gentleman hurl. But this was no place for such, this was a place of debauchery, plotting, scheming. Months had men waited to spend their earnings, on a bed with a wicked bar wench, breaking her in, to quell the lust that had near driven them made from long service at sea. Now they could gamble, enjoy the music and dancing. On a ship, the crews lead a strict existence, to follow the code set by the Captain. But on land, well, it was a pirate’s paradise. The publican wiped down the stained oak bar, long been a place where stories of great sea monsters, ghost ships, and gallant battles against the foreign fleets were told. Another eve, and the heads of many sailors you would recognise, were visible, and the Publican gave a knowing smile to one cheeky barmaid. “They be emptying their purses this eve, Gov”- The buxom barmaid said with a wink. “Aye…and they best be sharing that gold too. The wife is going to be pleased with a good takings, after weeks of having few ships into port. You ask me, there be something afoot. I can feel it in my bones.” The publican took another order, and poured a pint into a mug for one dishevelled looking chap. “Thank ye, Sir…Best in Port Royale. Cheers!”<3>

FireStar32005: The air was sweet and putrid as the early evening began to set it, the lamps slowly being lit on the street by lads no older than ten. The evening had barely even begun to settle and the streets were already putrid, filled with the drunk and addled. Many of them were freebooters from the looks of it, and all of them longing for a good poke or two from the lasses that only come out at night. The sounds of cheers, laughter and various drinking songs already echoed along the cobbled streets and the buildings. One who walked along the street, early to get some business was catching the eyes of the hungry sea dogs. She was known as Dirty Lizzie. Her Christian name, Elizabeth O’Malley. She walked along the cobbled street in her worn, torn up boots, her dress was barely more than a greyed corset and worn, torn skirts of faded crimson. She had a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders, that just barely kept the chill of the sea air away, but it would have to do until she could find herself a new one. She stood at five feet and eight inches as she walked, with one heel loose on her boot, making her appear to have a slight limp. Her face was scratched and bruised from bad business but that was not about to deter her from getting a good caulker. ” ‘Ello deary…” she said her voice low and sickeningly sweet as she passed by a few men. She wasn’t the prettiest girl of the evening, but she certainly knew how to get the lads. Especially a stationed sailor on land, they were the easiest to get. Finding a man from his majesty’s navy she loosens her shawl to reveal her bare shoulders, keeping her shoulders back to display her luscious cleavage just enough to tease. “‘Ello deary…” she said her voice low as she stepped closer. “Care fer some comp’ny tonight?” The man was young it seemed, perhaps a year or so older than herself. “Aw c’mon now deary.. for a mere penny I can help ease them tense shoulders o’ yers” He cleared his throat as she brushed her fingers down the centre of her cleavage. “And for a silver piece I can make yer dreams come true..” she adds with a purr to her voice as she steps closer. This one was weak, and too easy. Abandoning his post her overly rouged lips curl into a coy smirk. “C’mon deary… this way…” she purrs. Leading him to an alley behind a tavern already in an uproar she smiles more where the lights weren’t so bright. Stopping he tosses her a silver coin, smirking she lowers the top of her corset down just a hint to allow her full ample breasts to pop up a bit. Hungrily he stepped closer to her. He didn’t care, she would be cheap and he hadn’t had a woman in months. Hungrily his mouth slopped down her neck. She did as she always did, moaned and breathed heavily as his calloused hands roved over her. “That’s it laddy… ye a man fer havin’ a woman who can’t resist…” he grunted trying to lift up her skirts. And as he motioned to take care of his breeches she took out a dagger from her thigh, and drove it into his adams apple. “that’s it deary..>” she whispered.. “Be silent with that gully in that damned neck… ye swine..” with that said she rumaged through his coin purse grabbing everything she could, hiding it and taking the dagger out of his neck to finish bleeding out, she left him there to die. Counting up the loot she giggles to herself making her way into the tavern for her Caulker

VincentiVanity: -Val’s head was pounding… and what was worse was he was sobering up. With all the noises of the various craftsmen going about their vices, he could scarcely think his pounding head not taking the time to decipher the mumbled garbage that was being spoken as he made his way through the bar. His clothes branding him a ruffian, one that fit in well in this part of the port. His loosened vest did little to hide his physical gifts, raven black hair hung loosely unkempt to his shoulders he was the definition of the world scruffy not a single one of his possessions appeared to be neat or well maintained, with the solemn exception of a single flintlock pistol that appeared aged and in pristine condition. As he sat in his usual stool at the end of the bar his eyes looked to the familiar face of the barkeep – “Barkeep, I’ll take the usual and before you ask no I haven’t found a job and don’t you be kidding me with that whole you’ll find one someday. You know damn well that once a fella like me gets marked thar be no Captain dumb enough to take ye on their ship.”

FireStar32005: Dirty Liz made her way into the tavern, her eyes slowly scanning the so called fine gentlemen, rancid in smell, and all filled in an uproar of laughter and stories of the seven seas. She took in a deep breath of their cologne, salty sea air, sweat, grog, ale and rum, some of them were a bit ripe she could tell, and may even have a bit of jaundice, and some had teeth black with tar and gums that bled. Ah it was these freebooters that knew how to live, and it was these freebooters that she knew she could respect. Taking out a bit of coin from the stolen purse she leans over the oak bar with a coy smile and a wink. ” ‘Ello, Gov… whats a lass got ter do t’get a caulker here?” she asked her voice, no longer sickeningly sweet, but low and almost husky sounding. The voice of a girl who had seen many hard years. “Or do I need t’find me a gentleman to sit in his lap ter get some attention?” she added with a slight purr to her voice.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Over the din of many a voice in warbled song, the Barkeep leant forward, to hear the man who approached to order his usual fare. Ah yes, complaining he has no work as yet and so another one on his tab. “I think ya wrong there, lad. Happen to know of a ship, with a Captain who takes the unlikeliest scum and turns them into a good seafaring pirate. Course, if you be more like those wenches, that do the favours of the sailors that roll in with the tide, you got a sweet mouth, that pays just as well.”- Course he was joking and the other drunks at the bar, laughed it up. Wiping down the bar, he then poured Val his usual, and slid it across the bar towards him. “Aye, you be after Captain Moon, if he ever darkens this bar again. Been a few yars since I seen him reach port. Then again, there is a strange feeling in the air. Maybe he be coming back. HA! And with the price on his head, many a man will want to take that bounty.” Watching the saucy wench sidle up at the bar, the Bar keep whistled, long and low. “Ere love…you be wasting your time with the likes of this bar….Why…that lad there not even got a silver to pay for his drink.” <3>

VincentiVanity: “Bah, Capt’n Moon be nothing but a myth. A tale a pa be telling his runts so they piss themselves and listen to his words. Only thing that be brewing in this port be the stench.” -Val paused a moment as the bar had its life.- “Aye! Laugh it up ye smug bastards, laugh at the young terror of Havana while ye peer down your noses at the best gunner this side of the royal blue.” -Val held no images of grandeur anymore other than that of his craft, having joined unto the Dutch Royal Navy at an early age Val was given the privilege of apprenticing under on of the finest of the craft to ever sail the sea.- “If I be having my way, I would bed that piece of skirt and then be off to the grand sea the only lover I will ever return to.”

FireStar32005: “Aw, but, Gov… I got pay ‘ere fer a caulker what d’ya say?” she purred. Turning to the male that the barkeep motioned to her She leans more on the bar, a coy smile spreading across her lips. She also could not help but overhear about pirate work, and the name Captain Moon. She was unsure if this was good for her. She wanted to get away from this hellhole. Work was slow the majority of the time. “I promise Gov, the silver’s good..” she smirks with a wink. “Aye sir ye got a pretty mouth…” she adds looking over to the male that was given a drink already. She giggles playfully as she looked from him to the barkeep. Turning her head she scans the scallywags in the tavern once more. Wondering which she could pick pocket and which would be easy enough to kill for whatever they had. Hearing the male speak she smirks more at his speech to the lads and his words to the barkeep. She liked a man with a mouth on him, and she liked even more, fine gunners. “Aye?” she asked. “Ye be makin’ promises?” she asks

CharlotteCarrendar: – “Ha!…The wench is a smart arse! Blow me down. Best laugh I be ‘avin in years…AHAHAHA!”- Course right on cue, his wife came out of the kitchen. She took one look at the wiley wench and started to shoo. “Keep ya purse, and ya legs closed around the likes of me ‘usband. “- She then gripped her husband by the ear, and pulled his head down to her level. “I be the only woman speaken to ya like that. Now…get back to servin!”- She was quite indignant, about the wenches getting to close to her Sam. The publican winced and then rubbed his red swollen ear. Serving another drunk, who lifted his head out of a bowl of nuts, he pointed to the smelly sod and said. “This be Charlie Quinn, and he served on the Devil’s Mystery, till he got done for gambling on the ship. Tell the lad the truth…that there Captain Moon, he be as scary as the tales told by the campfires of many a sailor.” The drunk pulled back his sleeve, to show his left hand was missing. “The Captain punished me, and dumped me on some fishing village. Aye, he is real as my penis is limp.” <3>

FireStar32005: -Smirking some at the woman she lifts her breasts up in her corset a bit in a teasing manner. All she wanted was a drink, a caulker, something stiff to start up her drink for the evening. “All I want is a drink mum, surely ye got somethin’ this lass can ‘ave?” she asks sweetly. With a roll of her eyes, she turns to the one called Charlie Quinn. At the mention of limp noodle her brow quirked a bit. “Ye need some help with that there limp, gov?” she asks with a gentle purr to her voice. She studied him carefully. If he had been punished by this captain they spoke of, surely he may not have a dime on him. But he did have clothes that could help keep her warm at night.

VincentiVanity: “Aye, and I be the king of jolly ole england!” -Val grunted in retort as he sat down his mug and prepared to leave.- “Tell ye what, when this Capt’n be showing his face round these parts gain, you be telling him that I be looking for a Capt’n to sail under. Till then I’ll be sitting on my throne overlooking the emerald isles.”- Val didn’t believe on word of the story the drunk had told, even if he did what hope was there that he would take in a marked gunner?-

CharlotteCarrendar: – Charlie Quinn, was not the brightest biscuit in the barrel, and quickly bowed. “Yer Majesty.”- Sam the publican shook his head, then when his Missus wasn’t looking he passed the lass a drink and tapped the side of his nose. “Least this warm your cockles’, since me wife won’t let me warm much else.” -Nodding as the gunner was taking leave to go sit on his throne and observe the green fields, Charlie sung out. “Give me luv to the Queen!”- and then promptly toppled off his bar stool snoring loudly. The publican’s wife, then sidled up to Val as he was leaving. “If that Captain comes this way, I be first to know, and I send for ya. *she then leaned forward and whispered*…took my virginity when I was a wee gal. He always comes see Mary in port. *winks and then goes around to clean up the tables, and tell off the drunks for peeing on the floor. <3>

FireStar32005: Dirty Lizzie winked to Sam and took a quick swig from the drink he gave. “Yer lady wife can’t be warmin’ much ye poor dear…” she whispers back. As the wife returns she smiles turning away from the bar and walking around the room to finish her drink, tilting her head back to enjoy every last drop. She wasn’t about to waste it at al. The liquid warmed her up, and warmed the back of her throat. Letting out a sigh after the cup was emptied she sets it down on a table of drunks. “Oy!” one shouts to her. “C’mere lass, an’ warm up me breeches under ye skirts…” with a smile as she wiped a strand of her dark hair from her eyes she makes her way over to him. Another victim for the night, but she’d have to play the part to do it right and get herself a room to sleep in for the night, and perhaps a blanket for another night.-**