Galleon of the Black Mast [COMPLETED RP]

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October Knight

Original poster
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Fantasy, Horror and Sci-fi. I'll try basically anything though. I also love strange and unusual RP genre concepts. Different is good!
View attachment 3370 "Together we stand, feared and brave, in life with lies we rest. Of all the things that we hold dear a pirates life is best! The salted wind and oceans waves, for love in heart is kept. The days we spend on land, away, with scornful tears are met. Until the day we die we'll stand, united, strong and true. Below us be the lady sea, beloved of the crew ." - R.I.P. Stephen "Clamity' Winthrop. Late Poet and Boatswain aboard the Cutlass. View attachment 3371 Against the cold gray sky, Nautica's Cutlass pushed on through the Northern sea. Small waves broke just behind the ship, marking it's slow but steady voyage towards the kingdom of Helsink. The icy waters below sent a penetrating chill up to the ship. Anyone sailor unlucky enough to find himself, or herself, caught outside at night without a heavy coat would surly freeze to death. Already more than a handful of the crew had come down with a vicious case of frost bite and they certainly wouldn't be the last. Despite the chilling conditions, the night watch paced back and fourth on the top deck as Captain 9 Lives did the same in his quarters. It was about an hour till dawn and the first creeping essence of light could be seen in the western skies. ~Inside the Captains quarters~ View attachment 3372 Bright fire crackled inside the wood burning stove as Captain Claudius 9 lives stared out the bow windows. Although he had a flawless 180 degree view, it was near impossible to see much of anything at this hour. His mind was plagued with more than just rum tonight. Just below him, in the ships underbelly, locked up in the cell that usually held unruly crew and rats, was the Princess of Helsink. Captured under false pretenses and promise of protection, she was now en-route back to the home she ran away from. Nothing more than a precious, very valuable piece of cargo. The reward offered for her return by the King of Helsink was great indeed, and if the journey alone wasn't proof enough of that, the cold weather was. It would take a crazy or foolish man to embark on a journey like this, however the Captain was neither. The only thing Captain 9 lives is guilty of ? Greed. First Light Slowly, the stars began to fade from the night's sky and the gentle orange glow of dawn replaced them. First light. Soon the bells would sound and the crew, those that weren't still drunk from the night before, would be up and at 'em. The waters were smooth today, but any good pirate knows that this can change in the blink of an eye. Although there hadn't been much in the lines of work the past few days, the constant cold was keeping everyone on their toes.
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

awoke, as he normally did, just before the bell indicating first light. One thing living on a boat had taught him: Routine. Understanding the every day tasks that compiled a day meant the difference between 'hacking it' and being a hack. And a hack was one thing Eben was not. He prided himself in two things, taking what wasn't his and repairing the ship. He ran a tight crew, but his underlings in the carpenters trade respected him, as he did them. Although his position on the ship was not one of any real authority, he felt that his job was very important and therefor took it very seriously.


Eben jumped down from his bunk, his feet hitting the hard wooden floor with a hollow thud. The carpenters quarters were located just above where the main crew slept, port side. Not nearly as nice as the officers quarters, but still much better than the forecastle (Where the average crew sleeps). Eben shared his quarters with eight others, but only a couple that he considered friends. Another thing he had learned during his time on the Cutlass was, trust no one, because these scurvy dogs were quick to betray anyone for anything they could get their hands on, Eben did not exclude himself from this characterization.

Eben followed the smell of gruel and potatoes to the mess. Today the carpenters and himself had a small job to do, that would no doubt be prolonged and excruciating because of the cold. There were a few loose and rotting boards that needed to be removed and replaced, not challenging work, but Eben was nonetheless dreading it. He was still, like most of the underlings aboard the ship, questioning the Captains motives about the northern bound journey in the middle of Winter. Why could they not be headed to warmer waters? To the tropical waters and blue skies that made up the southern hemisphere? But he dared not utter these questions aloud. That would be treason, and punishable by death.

An old bandage was tied tightly around his left index finger, he had smashed it with a hammer three days ago and could now feel it beginning to fester. He needed to see the ships surgeon, Leech, but honestly she was one of the few people on board that gave Eben the creeps, so he decided to wait.

Eben got his food and sat, waiting on his fellow carpenters to inform them of their duties for the day.
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Deep in the bowels of the Cutlass, where the cargo rocked back and forth among the nasty brig and the prisoners sat in defeat, a young maiden sat in a haunting silence. At first some would think her to be dead as she laid in her hard uncomfortable cot, but the light movement that came with her breathing told them otherwise. She seemed to be of rather high class as her body was dawned in robes of silks and satins. Her hair, which had once been decorated with expensive hair ornaments, was now a messy and tangled braid thrown together by one of the crew. Her face was still covered in thick make up, though it was starting to fade, and her expression was plain and emotionless.

The sound of footsteps and grumbling did nothing to move her from her bunk, only the rustle of the chain around her ankle showed that she was now aware of the other person. A rugged crew member arrived at her cell and looked at her harshly through the bars, whether it was of jealousy or just his usual gruff expression she would never know. A bowl of gruel was slipped through a small slot near the ground while the man spoke.

"Eh! Princess, get up and eat. Ya'll be no use ta us if ya starve." He said before heading back up to deal with his other duties.

As soon as he was gone she hopped from her bunk and dived for the gruel, far to hungry to care if anyone saw her. They fed her once a day since most of the crew had better things to do than babysit royalty. She was lucky to even be getting gruel that day since the winter conditions were forcing them to keep supplies on a tight watch. She sat upon the floor and ate quietly as looked toward the stairs, no one would be coming down here as usual it seemed. No matter, she'd just curl back up and go back to thinking of her escape plan...

But first she had to actually think of one...
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Charlotte hadn't slept much for a fair few nights, but last night had been the worst recently. She'd been woken by nightmares and the rocking motions of the boat. Normally they soothed her but when they accompanied awful dreams they tended to make her uneasy. She knew better than to wander round the ship too much during the night but had all the same found herself out on deck. She'd found a quiet spot to sit without too many people tripping over her and stayed there to watch the skies until dawn. It was cold given the time of year, yes, but she was growing used to it after a few nights out on the deck, and it didn't bother her too much.

As the sun flung itself over the horizon, the majority of the ship began to stir. Charlotte hauled herself to her feet as the bells started ringing out, stretching her arms above her head. Her back popped audibly; she had a lot more free movement than she normally liked. She mentally noted that she needed to start lacing her corset a bit tighter before turning on her heel and stalking off to the mess. She wasn't particularly hungry as such, but she also wasn't fool enough to think she had the energy to pull off her work without eating.

She collected her serving for the morning, then found herself a seat. She sat up very straight as she began to eat, gazing round the room at her crewmates. Only a few had stirred from their quarters as of yet, and she knew fewer of the names to go with the faces. Her memory was hardly photogenic, and up til now she'd only learnt the nicknames of those she worked with. As of yet she hadn't made too many firm friends on board, which was somewhat unusual given she had been aboard for a few years. All the same, as a few of the crewmembers glanced over at her, she smiled back at them, friendly enough in her own way.
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As Yosuke awoke to the ringing of the morning bell he could feel that this day would be much the same as the ones before. Slowly he got out of bed and began to dress in his usual garb and then put on his winter cloak. The others had usually worn some sort of thick clothing but he found that a medium thick cloak was enough to keep him warm although he had promised to eventually line it with fur of some sort, his thoughts drifted to a polar bear's thick fur lining his cloak and he could almost feel the warmth pouring into his body. As his mind drifted off his companion hopped onto his shoulder and began to pester him to snuggle into the cloak.

"Alright alright ya lil bilge rat. Calm down before i knock ya a good one." The monkey chirped again and he patted its head before opening his cloak and watching it snuggle in by his chest. Yosuke chuckled and grabbed the rest of his stuff before opening the door and feeling the cold chill of the air hit his face. As he walked out the door he could see a few of the crew members looking at him while most of the others had seemed to avoid him. It had only been six months since he was found in the waters clinging to the mast of a small, barely sea-worthy raft, and taken aboard the ship. He had worked hard ever since and even found the extra time to help out the chefs. He had managed to gain the captains trust rather quickly by means known only to the captain himself, although he didnt mind the private room and privelages.

Soon Yosuke found himself in the mess hall of the ship and grabbed his food which he proceeded to take outside with him. As he ate his food and wandered around the ship aimlessly he noticed a man coming out of the brig with a rather displeased look on his face as if he was dealing with a bothersome pet. Yosuke had known they had a captive but hadn't really taken the chance to look at her so he decided to go down and check who it was. As he came down the stairs he moved his eye patch over to the other side so that he could see better as the figure in front of him unfolded. "Why hello there lil miss. How are you liking your private quarters eh? Not as prim and proper as you look but hell its the nicest place on the ship haha."
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The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made Tabitha jump a bit, her bowl no empty from her eating the food quickly. She turned her head down and looked away from the pirate that approached her cell, avoiding eye contact as much as she could. She didn't want to have anything to do with these men and would rather rot away in a prison alone than speak to one. She made to attempt to answer him and all and turned toward her bunk, climbing back in wordlessly and facing the wall so all he could see was her back. He empty bowl was left on the ground as she ignored the man, hoping that is she did not react to his words that he would get bored with her and leave her be.
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Rhorie awoke with a yawn, her hammock swinging as she stretched easily. Clambering down from her bed and pulling the curtain back, she surveyed her workshop. Well, Jawbone's workshop, she thought with a wistful grin. As apprentice carpenter, it was by no means hers. But she was proud with it all the same. She was ever glad when she had boarded The Cutlass that she had declined a bed in the shared carpentry quarters next door and had opted for a hammock in the curtained alcove in the corner of the workshop. It reminded her of her dedication and her love of carpentry and the fact she was on an actual pirate ship every morning.
She looked proudly at the room before her. The central bench was littered with various half-mended paraphernalia and tools, reminding her to report to Jawbone in the mess. Routine. That was what he'd drilled into her over the months of her apprenticeship. Routine is key. She snapped out of her morning lack of concentration and set her mind on today.
Jawbone would give her some new tasks to do, of that she was sure, but she bookmarked the couple of jobs she knew of. The first, a couple of brooms leaning forlornly against the wall of the workshop needed fixing and returning to their rightful places around the ship. The second, Jawbone had told her that they, along with the other carpenters, would be repairing and replacing some of the boards on the ships deck. And then the third, the most interesting, some wadding needed to be made up for the cell down below - where the prisoner was held. Rhorie grinned, biting her lip excitedly. Rumours were being flung about as to who or what she was and Rhorie didn't really know what to believe. All she knew was that the Captain had ordered her to be treated well, and as the ship's carpenter - apprentice or otherwise - she wouldn't let a clearly important prisoner suffer a leak in her cell. She doubted Jawbone would let her relieve him of the duty of actually filling the flaw in the hull herself - the Captain had said that the prisoner was not to be often engaged, but Rhorie had to admit to her burning, burning curiousity.
Leaving the workshop, she sauntered quickly through the belly of the ship and entered the mess, her mind still working furiously. Collecting her gruel - tasteless but filling seaman's fare - for the morning, she gazed around briefly before locating Jawbone. She strode over, seating herself across the table and to the right of him - not close enough to get on his nerves, as she was sometimes prone to do, but close enough for him to give her any more duties if he had them or deigned to tell her of them.
"Jawbone, sir, Rhorie reporting," she said, taking a spoonful of gruel and imagining it was fresh bread and... jam. By Lady Ocean, I haven't had jam in aaaggggeeesss! Rhorie fantasised while awaiting Jawbone's possible reply. Mmm, real fruity blackcurrant jam... just like Mam used to make...
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Eben Jawbone Renmar regarded Rhorie with a mix of admiration and pride before he answered. He was nearing his twenty seventh year of life, but the loyalty of his fellow carpenters made him feel years older.

"Aye, wish I had a better chore for us today, unfortunately we'll need all the rum and long underwear we have. We be needin' to replace some o the boards near the Captains quarters, they be waterlogged and rotten. I wish we could have some nice inside work on this bone chilling day, but I guess we should be happy we're not on the rigging crew."

Eben produced a small flask and took a healthy swallow. The strong drink set his mouth ablaze and made a fiery path down his throat where it settled to a nice warm glow in his stomach. He stood up and tightened his belt, the hammer and other tools jangled against his hip. He noticed that most of the carpenters were already waiting, so he nodded towards the door that led to the main deck. Rhorie and El Torbellino were his best workers, and the ones he spent the most time with. He would even go as far as to consider them friends. They were loyal, trustworthy (As trust worthy as a privateer could be) and seemed to respect him the most. Besides that, they both had other skills beyond Carpentry that made them valuable to the ship as a whole.

"May as well get a head start, not gettin' any warmer."

Outside on the main deck the sky was clear and the sun was already making its faithful incline towards the top of the sky. Sometimes the clear days turned out to be colder than the cloudy ones. The air would be dryer, less humidity to box in what little heat there was, which would result in a painfully freezing work day. As the Cutlass gently rocked, like a mother gently rocking it's new born in a crib, Eben laid out his tools and told the crew to set the wood within arms reach. He then started pulling out the rotted boards. Seeing that no one was around, including the noisy disciplinary officer who went by the name of Bloody Jack, he leaned in close towards Rhorie and El Torbellino.

"I bet you the Captain has another agenda up his sleeve, why else would he send us to the north under such conditions?"
Eben spoke in a barley audible voice as he pulled up another of the rotten boards. He paused for a moment and spoke again "As much as I respect 'Ol 9lives, I can't help but be more than o little concerned." With that, Eben twisted the cap off his flask and took two heaping swallows. This time he felt the fire in his head, a nice, warm, relaxing fire. Thick plumbs of smoke from his mouth reminded him of how cold it was and how much work lay ahead.

Inside the captains quarters
~the mood was isolated and worried~

Captain Nine lives was faced with a decision. Although Never a man to cast his burden upon another, he felt that this one needed to be cast. It wasn't really an option. If he was to succeed in his goal he would need the help, and more importantly, the support of his crew. He needed to communicate with the most trusted on his ship and let them know of his plans. That much was clear.
However, there was a small catch, he needed to do it in a way that wouldn't alert the whole damn ship.

Captain 9lives, if it wasn't already painfully obvious, was named so because of his many near brushes with death. One of which was a nasty case of gangrene that took his right, as well as dominate, arm from the wrist down. While he had trained himself to use a sword and fire a gun, he never learned to write again. He needed a notary, and fortunately he had one.

Captain 9lives walked across to the door that separated his quarters from those of his guards that stood an undivided watch just outside. A steady, hollow *Thump Thump Thump* could be heard from the oak peg that took the place of a once healthy leg . He opened the door and spoke with the voice of a man who had just come upon a great discovery.

"Bring me Charlotte Black, immediately."

With that he shut the door again. One thing that being a captain entitled was never having to explain your actions. This was a good thing, but at the same time had the potential of being a terrible thing. With great power, as the saying goes, brings great corruption. Claudius learned back, held his stomach and burst into a belly ripping laugh at this thought.

"Aye, but I have been corrupt since birth."
Exclaimed the Captain as an after thought to the eruption of laughter.
Isolation was another unavoidable fate of being top dog. The captain had developed a slight habit of answering his mental questions aloud.

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Charlotte had nearly finished her meal when the guard approached, business written in his face. It was a sight she was used to. She stood quickly and returned her plate to a nearby countertop before turning to face him, already knowing the phrase that would come out of his mouth.

"Capt'n wants you."

"I had sort of realised that. Care to escort me there?" She smiled sweetly, a dark twinkle in her eye. Speaking with a more formal air disconcerted and flustered some of the crew, but the guard wasn't one of them. He turned away and tramped off on his not-so-merry way. Charlotte crossed her arms and followed, the heels of her boots tapping lightly on the wood floor. The guard led her through the ship to the door that separated their Captain from the others, then returned to his normal position. Charlotte flicked her hair from her face before rapping smartly on the door and calling through as she always did.

"Charlotte Black reporting for duty, Captain."
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Captain 9 lives, with Ink, quill and paper already laid out on his desk, awaited Charlotte Black. Although not all of his crew were learned in the arts of proper writing, or reading for that matter, he knew her to be especially proficient, and since this was a message of importance he wanted it to be done with pride and style. When she entered he was facing the window, looking at the sea as it pushed the Cutlass ever closer to their destination.
"Charlotte Black reporting for duty, Captain."
"Ah, Charlotte. It hasn't escaped me old brain that you be more than skilled in the arts of writing." He turned to face her "While I would love to compose this letter myself." He said shaking his wooden stump of a hand at her "I am indisposed." He sat now, on a long leather chair near by her "And Charlotte, do make several copies of this, one for each of the selected parties. By my count it'll be seven."He gestured her to sit and began to recite what would turn out to be an official summoning to all those addressed. The rumor that most privateers were dirty rum swilling, whore mongering, uneducated thieves -while partly true- did not apply to all. In fact, the Captain fancied himself well-spoken and semi educated, but any lack of these qualities definitely did not reflect his intelligence. He was a precise and calculating man. After he finished he dismissed Charlotte, whom he thanked with a promise of extra rations for a week or so, and told the guards outside to deliver the identical seven messages to the following: Bloody Jack his faithful disciplinary officer, Leech the valuable and slightly frightening surgeon, Eben and his two apprentices Rhorie and El Torbellino, Dead-eye the head gunner and Nero the one Cabin boy whom the Captain liked.
"Oh and Miss Black." He called after her before closing his door. "Make yourself present at the meeting as well."
The message is as follows."From you Captain. I am facing a tough decision and need your help, as much as it pains me to ask for it given the tough journey to the north of which I am sure you are all questioning. Where I would usually address the crew as a whole, I need you all to keep your lips tight about this. It is, for your ears only, and must be kept secret. Please come to my quarters tonight, at the moons highest point, and tell no one. All will be revealed then."Signed Captain Claudius Nine-Lives
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"Aye, wish I had a better chore for us today, unfortunately we'll need all the rum and long underwear we have. We be needin' to replace some o the boards near the Captains quarters, they be waterlogged and rotten. I wish we could have some nice inside work on this bone chilling day, but I guess we should be happy we're not on the rigging crew."

Rhorie snapped out of her daydreams as Jawbone spoke. She prided herself in her ability to do that, and do it fast. Almost immediately she found herself nodding along with Eben, sorely disappointed that they weren't working inside today, but it was to be expected. She didn't have reason to loiter around by the Captain's quarters, but anytime she did go down there, she had noticed an unhealthy sounding creak from the boards under her heeled boots. She watched Jawbone take a drink from his flask - his special brew, he called it, and Rhorie was sure that even a whiff of it would knock most men unconcious. Not Eben, apparently. The head carpenter stood and, probably seeing a couple of pairs of expectant eyes, gestured freely at the deck door.

A final dutiful nod and Rhorie moved off to deposit her empty bowl back on the hatches through to the kitchens, then stepped out into the coldness of the deck. Her breath ghosted in front of her as she followed the other carpenters across the deck towards their destination. Rubbing her arms, she decided that she would ask Jawbone's permission to complete the jobs inside for a while. But not yet. She would not have half the crew taunting her about not being able to stomach the cold or the labour because she was young or, god forbid, because she was a woman. She would wait until even the brawny boys wanted their mother's mittens. Only then would she politely enquire if she could attend to her duties elsewhere on the Cutlass.

Blowing hot air into her cupped hands and pulling gloves on while waiting for Eben to organise the various scallywags the Captain had allowed him to shanghire into the dull and almost skill-less task of prising up floorboards, Rhorie absently wondered where El Torbellino was. The flamboyant apprentice was usually as 'up an' at 'em' and 'in your face' as you could get. It got on her nerves sometimes, but she missed his company now. She figured his energetic and headstrong nature might entertain her and take her mind off the chill. She made a mental note to ask Jawbone when he was finished directing lollygaggers here and there.

Eventually, Eben came over and laid his tools out on the deck, sparing only a quick glance and smile for Rhorie. Smiling back, she plucked a crowbar from her belt and began prising up boards next to the carpentry master. She opened her mouth, intending to ask where El Torbellino was, when the devilish Spaniard materialised - immediately picking up a bar and setting to work. Rolling her eyes at him and staying silent, Rhorie continued working, following Eben's example of pretending the other apprentice had always been here. Feeling the plank come loose and removing it with a practiced gentle tug, Rhorie pulled a fresh board from the pile near her and proceeded to fit it into the space she had created. Suddenly Jawbone's whisper cut into her already slightly frost-and-work-numbed mind. She glanced briefly upward to see El Torbellio's attention also captured by their Master and friend.
"I bet you the Captain has another agenda up his sleeve, why else would he send us to the north under such conditions?" Jawbone was looking down, continuing with the tugging and prising of his board as he spoke. Rhorie hadn't seen Bloody Jack about yet this morning, but that didn't mean the mysterious disciplinary officer wasn't attuned to every behaviour that wasn't work. Jawbone didn't continue for a second, as if sensing Rhorie's train of thought, then continued after no footsteps were heard. "As much as I respect 'Ol 9lives, I can't help but be more than o little concerned."

"You make a fair point," Rhorie agreed. She had to admit the Captain's behaviour was rousing the curiousity that had always burnt within her - and got her into far more than her fair share of trouble, her mind pointed out. "I don't want to question his authority, but what is there he could possibly want up North? Only the capital rests so far that way, and I daresay that's surely a concentration of people and groups that want many of our heads. Why would he put such a proportion of his crew that potential danger?" As almost always, Rhorie's response was well thought out and reasoned. Her tone then dropped to an almost conspiring breath - though of course it wasn't actually conspiring, because that would probably get some fingers chopped off by courtesy of Bloody Jack and she couldn't have that - ideally, carpenters needed all 10 fingers. She observed Jawbone take a swig from his flask before continuing. "Unless it was for something incredibly important." Her eyes darting frenziedly between her two carpenter crewmates, she awaited their answers to her theory.

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The young lady he had spoken too only seemed to scurry as far away as he cell would allow and curled up into a fedal position on the bed. As she layed there silently he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person she was, after all she was in their brig yet her clothes were so fine and expensive looking to be any kind of thug thief or vagabond, her body too frail to be any part of the marines and she definitely had no looks of being another pirate. After a short time of thinking he whistled loudly and began to sing a song out loud trying to either annoy or cheer up the captive, after all he knew how boring it was to be alone and stuck in a place for such a long time.

"Ohhh we sail across the seas in look of fine booties~ We plunder the towns and sell all the fine gowns~ Our captains will shout as or mugs touch our snouts~ Our cannons shall fire as we take down a spire! The life of a pirate is full of surprise you'll never know if your going to lose one of your eyes!" He continued to sing for a little while longer before his monkey crawled out of his cloak and climbed on his head, it then proceeded to grab his eyepatch and snap it back at him. He yelped slightly and rubbed his eye before scratching his monkey's head and then looked at her empty bowl, he snatched it up from the cell and twirled it in his hand before setting his bowl which had about a fourth left in it into her cell.

"Well lass i gotta get back ta work. If ya be wanting some company i could always leave this furry lil bastard with ya, he hates the cold anyways and would much rather stay here with a fine beautiful young gal as yerself." Yosuke grunted quietly before standing up and tightening his cloak to his body. He then preceded to head out of the brig and out into the brisk cold once more, the rocking and swaying of the ship only making the wind seem that much stronger. As he was walking around one of the crew members handed him a letter sealed in an envelope with a nice crimson wax seal with an elegant number nine on it, he took it that the captain had comprised this letter and began to walk towards the hull where the cannons were held so that he could read the letter. When he got there he sat on top of one of the cannons and opened the letter making sure no others were around. His eyes slowly scanned the letter as he mused what the captain could have wanted to discuss. In the end he knew he would just have to find out by going.
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Tabitha did her best to ignore the pirate that was bothering her at the moment. When he started to sing she couldn't help but roll her eyes and fight the urge to try and shoo him away. Luckily, some pet of his hated his singing as much as she did and quickly silenced him by causing him pain. She heard him shuffle around for a moment before he finally left himself and headed up the stares with his monkey. Once she was sure that he was gone she turned around and looked toward that stairs. That was the first visitor she had that made an attempt to speak with her politely, not that he had done a good job since he left just about as quickly as he came. She then looked to the bowl on the floor and noticed there was food in it. It seemed that he had done more than just sing annoyingly behind her back. She slowly reached out for the food and started to eat it slowly, taking her time with the small amount left over.
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Nero had woken earlier then everyone else. It was his morning to cook, honestly it didn't take much to put this gruel together. As the rations got tighter the food started tasting less and less. It was cold this morning, but he didn't really feel it as his jacket was warm and strapped tightly. He sighed as he got on his hands and knees, on a quiet area of the ship, and he began scrubbing the deck.

He was quiet and at most only said a word or two. The captain seemed to mostly chose him to do all of the errands. There were many other cabin boys, but he was always the one singled out. Nero mostly liked to keep to himself, but for some reason they never seemed to let him. He always tried to keep himself busy on the ship, in hopes that some day they really would just leave him to it.

Nero had only been with the ship for a short while and still knew next to nothing about ships or sailing for that matter. He wasn't stupid by any means, he was just not educated or knowledgeable in this area. So he mostly made use of his other skill that seemed to be needed on the ship and left everything else to the sailors.

Brushing his black and white hair, a family trait, away from his eyes he kept scrubbing across the deck. Mildly, Nero wondered what would be in store for him on this frigid day. At least the wind seemed to be with them today, or so it seemed to him.
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This temperature was not pleasant at all. Amilio was still getting used to the cold temperatures at sea, his homeland being much hotter. Even so he was up and ready with the rest of the crew, some of the crew anyway. Amilio took his bowl from the bowl giver "Gracias" he said to the sour looking man and left to go sit. Some of the crew whispered as he passed by, Amilio smiled to himself. Even though he still had a tough time with the language he understood enough to know when people were talking about him.

Sat with some guys today he had been talking to yesterday, but this morning he just sat and listened to them talk until he saw Jawbone and Rhorie get up from their table, going to leave the Mess. Work he assumed. Time to go then, Amilio drained the last of his slop and tossed the bowl over a table and onto a counter where it wobbled around before coming to a stop on it's bottom. Amilio reached the doorway out when he heard some one call him from behind "Torrente!" Amilio turned around and whipped one of his swords out from it's sheath, slicing the bowl in half, stopping it's momentum and sending both halves of the bowl to the floor with a clatter. Amilio pointed his sword toward the chucker, one of the whisperers. He made a clicking noise with his tongue moving his blade back and forth with it before sheathing it and turning out of the doorway, some one whistled as he left and some others clapped before resuming their meals.

He caught up with his two co-workers, they had already started work. He joined them by taking up a bar and winking at Rhorie before starting to pry up boards they could be replaced with fresh ones. After several changed boards Jawbone spoke quietly, wondering the Captain's intentions. Amilio listened to Rhorie's reply, raising his eyebrows at her tone. He thought through everything he heard of that may be up North, worth risking a whole crew for anyway, he shrugged his shoulders and then started prying another board out of the deck.
"I have heard some stories about the North but I do not think it is what the Captain is looking for. If it is as important as you you think we may be muy mucho rich, no?" Amilio thought a little bit more "But maybe es not like that, perhaps es no mortal riches el Capitán is searching for." Amilio remained quiet then, trying his best to hide the shiver that crept up his spine as he hammered a board into place. Thoughts of ghosts, spirits, poltergiests, and devils crossed his mind. He also resisted the urge to cross himself and say a prayer by hammering a board instead. Thankfully another distraction came by in the form of a letter being delivered from the Captain, turns out there were letters for Rhorie and Jawbone too. He thanked the bearer and opened the letter, nervous. His heart pounded a little louder, wondering if it was something terrible. Leaning over to Jawbone he said "¿Qués es? I don't read your language"
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Rhorie rolled her eyes again at El Torbellino's wink, but was pleased nonetheless - The Spaniard did know how to cheer her up. She watched him shrug, then he spoke, his voice low. "I have heard some stories about the North but I do not think it is what the Captain is looking for. If it is as important as you think we may be muy mucho rich, no?" He paused and Rhorie considered his words. As much as she hadn't yet gained the enthusiasm for the whole pillaging and burning side of pirate life, she had to say that her attention was captured at the mention of gold. Adventure was one thing she sought, but she wasn't going to deny that she enjoyed having money - and lots of it. Then she watched a shadow cross Torbellino's face.

"But maybe es not like that, perhaps es no mortal riches el Capitán is searching for." Rhorie heard a short intake of breath, realised it was hers, and quickly let it out again, turning back to a particularly stubborn nail to think. No mortal riches? Though her fellow apprentice's accent was strong, she had heard that perfectly. She bit her lip as her mind worked furiously to try and find answers. She had heard many stories of the North - of ghosts, spirits, monsters that were men, or fed on them and all sorts of ungodly things. She added that to her more rational ideas of why the Captain shouldn't be going up North. She watched Torbellino try to suppress a shiver as he continued working. Eben had stayed resolutely silent throughout his apprentices' theories and explainations, his jaw set as he worked methodically through the planks. Rhorie turned back to El Tobellino, not wanting to disturb their Master's train of thought.

She was just about to ask the Spaniard to tell her some of his native stories about the North, perhaps at dinner or tonight when the work day ended, when the sharp tap, tap,tap of expensive boots could be heard - and getting closer. The three carpenters bent further, putting more visible effort into their work. And they were all thinking the same thing: Please not Jack. Fortunately, the legs that came in to Rhorie's view behind Jawbone were distinctly feminine, encased in long soft-leather boots. Rhorie couldn't help but look upward to be met with the sight of Charlotte Black, the ship's translator and notary looking back down at her.

"Charlotte, Miss."
She said respectfully, nodding her head. Even though she was on a notorious pirate ship - possibly the most notorious - she didn't forget her politeness, or her place. Though carpentry was a highly respected trade on the ship, she was still only an Apprentice. The Master Carpenter, Eben, held sufficient sway with the Captain, but Rhorie did not. She was worth more overall to the ship, through carpentry as well as sword-skill and other things, that the average pirate or sailor, but her place did not often require her to talk to the more high-ranking pirates on the ship that didn't get involved in manual labour, such as Charlotte. She quickly analysed all the reasons the scribe could be here and chose the most likely. "Do you come to report a fault in the ship, miss? I can attend to it right away if you wish?" Rhorie quickly offered her services, making a motion to stand.
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

As they day slowly ticked by Yosuke had gone through his daily schedule of fixing and calibrating the cannons so that they would fire properly, he also made sure that each and every cannonball was shiny and clean to avoid misfire or gunpowder residue buildup in the cannons for when they did get into a fight at sea. Most of the other buccaneers he worked with saw no point to shining the cannonballs but it was by personal experience that he had learned it was important. On the ship that he was born he had once been fighting when a cannon practically exploded in his face causing rather significant damage to the port he had been manning, luckily it had not been the fault that had sank his ship that time but almost cost his life. He had made it a priority of his to make sure it wouldn't happen to any sailors working with him if it could be helped at all. Once he was done with that he had nothing particularly important to do so he decided to mozy on up to the main deck and bug the carpenters.

As he reached the main deck and saw the lot of carpenters hunched over and working on the hull he couldn't help but tease two of the apprentices who were working rather slowly. Miss Charlotte had been talking to one of the carpenters so he decided to join in on the conversation. "So my wood affiliated friends. Hows the ship doing today? It seems ta be rockin an awful lot these past few weeks. Im sure yur all working hard and such but perhaps you'd like ta come on down to the mess and take a swig o the fine ale we got, i can always use the company so i don't get rowdy with the others" Yosuke laughed a little bit and gave Charlotte a nice pat on the back before leaning up against a box of supplies and watching the carpenters work their magic on the ships. It had always amused and astounded him to see them work so precisely with their hands but he expected he would be the same if he took it up as his trade.

Meanwhile in the brig his monkey had been sitting close to the jail cell. The woman had taken the food Yosuke left behind and ate it graciously. The monkey slowly walked into the cell and hopped on the bed as she went to lay back down. It picked at her dress precariously and then decided to hand from the ceiling by its tail while it ate a banana that Yosuke had passed along to it before leaving. As the monkey ate and removed the peel it began to wonder if she would ever get out of that bed.
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Charlotte had never been more glad that she had taken the time to learn how to write with a proper hand as she watched the guards leave to seek out the seven the Captain had named. She smiled for a brief moment at the thought, the vague feeling of warmth, and then shook the thought from her mind, following the guard's path back out to the deck. She eyed him as he wandered across the deck, making a beeline for the carpenters. Three of the letters were to go to them alone. She watched as the letters changed hands before walking away from the Captain's door. Her path required her to pass them by, so she wasn't too surprised when Rhorie heard her.

"Charlotte, Miss." Charlotte raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling and her lips curved upwards in a smile that seemed almost teasing. "Do you come to report a fault in the ship, miss? I can attend to it right away if you wish?"

"No, you're all right Rhorie. The Captain wanted to see me, and those letters should be a good indication as to why." Charlotte's gaze drifted across to Torbellino, clearly somewhat confused and worried about the contents of his letter. She switched languages, wary of speaking out in English about this where so many could hear. "Captain is holding a secret meeting tonight and wants you there. He has something to tell a select few of his crew and would appreciate you keeping it a secret for now. I doubt you would but don't shoot your mouth off about it, mmkay honey?*" She resisted the urge to play with the ruffles round his neck, given he was still in possession of a relatively heavy-looking hammer and could probably cause fairly decent damage if he so chose.

Another voice joined them. Charlotte felt a pat on her back and spun sharply, her fingers coming to a swift rest on the hilt of her sword. Her eyes met with Yosuke, strangely without his usual furry friend, and she breathed out slowly. Not someone who warranted a sword to the face then. She was getting paranoid from those damned dreams. She cleared her throat, let her hand drop and spoke up softly.

"Where's your little cutie?"

(OoC: *I'm not quite at the level I can actually type up the correct Spanish for this, so italics in Charlotte's speech are gonna be ~other languages~)

Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Tabitha did her best trying not to pay attention to her new found company but it was hard not too, especially when he was so darn cute. She watched it pick at her clothing before hopping up to the rafters and hanging there as it ate its own food. Eventually, after much inward fighting, she gave in and looked up at the small monkey, motioning to it slightly with her hands.

"Come here little guy..." She said softly, her voice slightly raspy from lack or water to drink.

She hoped that it would come down, she would rather like to pet it. It was far cuter than the ones she had seen in the forests of the southern countries, in fact she wondered if this monkey was even related to those at all. She held her arms open to the creature as she laid on the bed, to tried to try and get up.
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Amilio's eyebrows went up when he heard Charlotte speaking his language. He tilted his head up and rested a forearm on his knee, looking up at her as she explained to him what the letter said. He slipped into his native language where he was more fluid and comfortable "Many thanks, my lady. Perhaps you'd like to see what my mouth would do?" he said, his lips spreading into a wide grin as he looked back down to his board and pounded a nail deep into place. Just then Deadeye patted Charlotte on the back, which she promptly responded to with a quick spin and some tension which soon dissipated.

Deadeye spoke and Amilio heard "ale" and "rowdy" perking up and standing.
"Si I do not mind." He turned to regard the boards they had replaced. "Maybe we have fixed enough for a break?" he put the letter in the pocket of his coat which was hanging nearby on a stray nail.
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