Rollin' Down to Old Maui (IC)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by mr_pibbs, Dec 15, 2015.

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  1. The Princess Elizabeth, Main Deck

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    Captain Edwards (open)
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    "MEN! TRIM THE ANCHOR AND MAKE MORE SAIL!" exclaimed the red-coated pirate captain as he smiled giddily, marching onto the deck of the ship followed closely by members of his 'top crew'. "We're on a tight schedule boys, so let's get a move on! We head Southwest, towards Peru! It's going to be a long journey lads, I suggest you hasten the preparation so that we can set sail before the hour is up!" Captain Hopkins shouted, waving his right hand around in the air as he spoke to emphasize his point. The crew, although slightly disappointed they were no longer docked at Tortuga, the pirate capital of the Caribbean, could not help but feel excited at Hopkin's words. The smile, the whacky hand movements, and even the way he spoke about their heading could only mean one thing: he had found something of immeasurable worth to pursue. "You heard the Cap'n, haul anchor and make sail! Caress the wind like she's your dancin' partner, lads! Soft and firm!" called out a miscellaneous member of the crew before the rest of the A.B.S's got to work. Nodding at his crew's determination, Hopkins turned to Olivia, his first mate, and said "Make note of the crew's determination. I think that lends itself to a whole 'nother slice 'a Ham on 'Ham Night', don't you think so?"

    Hopkins then turned his attention to the rest of his 'elite crew' (or "Master's":, as he often tacked before their names): Joel the Surgeon, Michael the Master Gunner, Azza the Chart Master, Katrina the Sail Master, and Rand the Boatswain. He also took along the young Francoise, even though she was not a key member of his crew outside of trying to be as morally supportive to the denizens of the Princess Elizabeth. It was just that he did not exactly 'trust' the intimacy-depraved men of his crew with a young woman who knew not the cruelty of men's lust. Granted, the crew had essentially kidnapped her back when they first met, but Captain Hopkins always ordered that no harm come to her and any man seen trying to use Francoise for sinful, self-fulfilling purposes, was to be locked in the brig and dropped off at the next stop. It was never said that Captain Hopkins, although not as legendary a pirate as many who came before him, was not a gentleman. Even those who he killed or captured were respected by the Captain, honoured for their bravery or given special permissions until they were set free. Those who sailed with Hopkins respected him, as did those who pursued him. True, he had made many enemies, but it is another thing entirely to make those enemies respect the way you do things. Captain Edward Hopkins was not your typical pirate. He was something new entirely: a gentleman of fortune.

    While he would have wanted to take along Master Hawkins, the young lad had seemingly fallen into a seasonal depression and would not move from the cabin. He did not speak to anyone, nor did he show up for the crew meals. Jim kept to himself, despite the fact that Captain Hopkins actually enjoyed his company. But since leaving the boy behind, Edward filled his position with that of an old, haggard looking man who was no more than fifty-five years old. The man was dressed like a captain, but his clothes were ruined and torn, dirtied from hours spent lounging around in the filthy streets of Tortuga with drink on his breath and a song on his lips. He previously smelled rancid, but Edward had kicked him into a barrel of laundry soaps to help wash off his stench before leaving. Not that it would have mattered, given the state of the crew. However, a few days at port always helped alleviate the smell, as the crew finally had time to bathe themselves without the risk of falling off the ship and being swept away by the sea.

    But the old man, named Teague, was the very reason why Captain Hopkins wanted to head for Peru. Teague was rendered mute when his tongue was cut out sometime ago, back when he was a pirate captain himself. Through the use of sign language (one of the many forms of communication Hopkins had learned to understand in his travels), he spun the tale of how he and his crew had discovered the location of the ancient lost Incan city of Paititi. It was rumoured that the city was made entirely of gold and contained treasures well beyond count. If a thousand pirates dreamed a thousand nights of treasure, the amount of wealth they conjured would pale in comparison to the riches hidden with Paititi. However, Teague's ship was apprehended by a Spanish warship captained by an agent of King Charles II. His crew was killed and after learning of the destination, Teague was interrogated to discover the location of Paititi. When he refused to speak, his tongue was cut out and his ship was destroyed. While his maps and navigational charts were confiscated by the Spanish, they would do the king no good. They would lead the Spanish on a wild goose chase, just as it had led Teague's crew before discovering the truth behind Paititi's location from a series of riddles spoke by an Incan shaman. The true path to the city rested in Teague's memory, but with his tongue cut out and realizing practically nobody he encountered understood sign language, the former captain thought his quest was in vain.

    Until Edward came along.

    "Alright, crew meeting! Masters Olivia, Azza, Joel, Teague and Micheal, head to my quarters. I'll be there momentarily. Francoise my dear, could you see if Jimbo's done with his sulking? I'd like to get his input on this, but more so I need his compass to help figure out which way is 'Southwest' from here." explained the Captain, patting the young woman on the shoulder as he asked her to retrieve the cabin boy/cook. "Masters Katrina and Rand, you go make sure the Princess is all ready to go. Once everything's verified, tell Joshame (NPC crew member) to take us out of port." commanded Captain Hopkins before he nodded and walked off to his cabin, eagerly awaiting his crew to assemble so they could plot a proper course.

    The Princess Elizabeth, Lower Deck

    Jim (open)
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    "Way, hey, up she rises~

    Way, hey, up she rises~

    Way, hey, up she rises, ear-ly in the mor-nin'~"
    quietly hummed Jim as he continued to cut up the apple in his hand, delicately wielding the knife to create perfect little slices. When he finished cutting up the apple, Jim grabbed the slices with the hand that previously held the apple and dropped them into a small wooden bowl for later consumption. This was Jim's daily routine: quietly sitting below the deck, preparing a meal for the crew, and occasionally singing a sea shanty to himself so that he didn't go completely mad. It was nice, to say the least. The music distracted his mind from thinking of not so pleasant memories and the isolation often gave him time to reflect on his life and the events which followed his mother's passing. Did he really make the right choice, joining with pirates? While Jim loved being free and the feeling he got while on the sea, he couldn't help but think about how things could go dramatically awry in a matter of seconds. Put on trial, hung, and having his body strung out as a warning to other pirates would be the punishment that awaited him if Edward and his crew were to ever be captured.

    Shaking his head of the grim thoughts, Jim tried to continue his song, but he had lost his place. Grunting frustratedly to himself as he reached for another apple, Jim let out a sigh. "Great..." mumbled the young cook as he started over: new apple, new song.

    "Tis, a damn tough life. Full of toil as strife, we whaler men undergo~

    And we don't give a damn when the day is done, how hard the winds did blow.

    'Cause we're homeward bound, from the arctic round, with a good ship tout and free~

    And now we're bound from the arctic round; Rollin' Down, to Old Maui.

    Rolling Down, to Old Maui, me boys. Rolling Down, to Old Maui~

    We're homeward bound, from the arctic round; Rollin' Down, to Old Maui~"

    Old Maui
    #1 mr_pibbs, Dec 15, 2015
    Last edited: Dec 15, 2015
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  2. Françoise Bellemer
    The 'Princess Elizabeth' eventually swung out of the rickety, driftwood harbour of Tortuga and began to rumble through the deep turquoise waves of the endless ocean. Of course, the 'real' princess had burnt a neat hole in the ship's coffer in one of her black market shopping sprees and was busy revelling in her own personal haul; smelling salts, exotic perfumes, jewellery and foreign finery brought to her own quarters, a new Turkish rug to adorn the boards and some fresh bedsheets (linen, unfortunately) to keep the desperate grip on cleanliness. Undoubtedly, Françoise knew how to look pretty; but as the crew quickly found out, it came with a grim sacrifice on the finances. Luckily, the joy of a pirate ship is the possibility of obtaining these rarities first-hand. (The French fusspot was picky enough to pluck one or two items from the loot pile and scorn the rest, leaving a large profit for the ship.)

    There she was, trotting along the deck of the ship, calling out in her sing-song accent to the hundreds of burly, sweaty, ragged pirates. Words of encouragement, steeped in optimism; "pull harder, Jones, you can do it!" "Yay! Well done Peter, that is some very beautiful knot-work!" "How are you today, Williams? Oh! You have another tooth for your collection? Did your opponent miss it too mu-too drunk to notice, ah. No, no, you do not have to show me! I am sure it is a very pretty tooth."

    A Bourgeoisie beauty, surrounded by burly brutes.

    She flounced over to her captain and captor with a beaming smile. Currently, Françoise wore a deep crimson silken dress; enough ruffles to bury a man and lace to tie up the entire royal guard of Charles II, not to mention the real gold chain with the ruby hanging just on her collar. Her hair was elaborately tied up and she was wearing red lipstick and blush. It was clear from her expression that she was proud of her 'work'; utterly useless in most practical affairs, Françoise felt obligated to assist in the tasks better suited for someone who had at least worked a day in their life. After several weeks of getting in the way, chipping nails, botching simple chores and crying almost every time she failed, some enlightened soul brought forth the golden idea of "moral support". Françoise got her satisfaction of " helping" without ruining the ship, and the crew could humour, chat to, or ignore Françoise as they saw fit. Nevertheless, the noble-born took her job very seriously, and has been known to kick up a fuss whenever her tender feelings were hurt.

    "Edward," cooed the girl cheerily (since day 1 of her capture, Francoise stubbornly refused to call the Captain by his title. After the compulsory stay had finished, Françoise continued to call him by first name basis as a cheeky joke and grim reminder of how he kidnapped her) "I thank you again for allowing the sailors to wash. I also bought some more yarn for knitting!" Reported Françoise, hopping excitedly on the spot. A contrast to her practicality, if any hobby seemed remotely noble, Francoise was sure to excel. She had already created several sweaters, hats and scarves, despite the warm temperatures of the carribean, 'just in case'. She nodded happily upon receiving a job and skipped downstairs to the lower decks.

    Francoise's relationship with Jim was, by and large, platonic. Nevertheless, rumours spread like wildfire about romantic escapades that never existed, the pass time of sexually deprived men when faced with a young girl they weren't allowed to toy with. Francoise seemed oblivious to this 'adult attention'; the very picture of naivety. In reality, the pair of them were very close friends. Francoise had this uncanny knack for empathy, another one of a plethora of useless talents, and Jim was one of the very few people to actually manage to quitenen the loud, spoilt girl into a tranquility that was a high blessing on those hungover mornings.

    She heard his humming before she saw him, being privvy to many of Jim's hiding places meant she could easily track down the youth. She joined in with the song. Her voice was hardly remarkable, but she was taught how to sing and could hit a note properly.

    "Once more we sail with a northernly gale, through the ice," Francoise hopped around the table.

    "The wind," curiously, Francoisr picked up an apple slice.

    "And rain," sang Francoise before popping the apple slice into her mouth.

    "But without Jim's Compass to point the way, Edward will get lost again~" Francoise put a spin on the shanty, trying to lift the boy's spirits. Her eyes peered critically into his and, with the firm decisiveness that usually accompanied Francoise, she broke from the song to announce that "I shall not allow you to disappear during meal time again. I will search high and low, I will postpone the meal until you have joined me. I can not continue to save you some food and you must not work so hard only to avoid eating with the rest."

    In honesty, Francoise felt his ponderings from halfway down the corridor. She knew he was in another one of his low moments (albeit 'moments' is an ironic term, these moods can persist for weeks) and Francoise knew the only thing she could do is distract him or allow him to talk to her; the latter was a rare sight indeed. Francoise gave it a shot.

    "I can bring the compass up for you," mused Francoise, her French accent melting into every syllable, "but you simply must tell me what is troubling you. Are you feeling trapped? This ship is so big, but it sometimes still feels like my cage. Is it the other sailors? I tell you again and again to pay them no mind, Jim, they are not as sharp as you. They do not understand like we do."

    Francoise toyed with a knife before quickly putting it down again. The great cutlery incident of last September was still fresh in the mind of the crew, whereupon Francoise nearly decapitated poor Tom Harding and almost chopped Sam Baker's left pinky in an attempt to master the subtle art of cooking. Francoise was subsequently banned from the kitchens, but under the watchful eye of Jim she would be allowed to enter (provided she avoided anything sharp). She lamented to Jim, a selfish act in and of itself, but something invariably rooted in the prissy, posh mannerisms of Francoise. It loosely translated into 'I have felt something similar and I am trying to express my sympathy' - few understood this and only mistook it for selfish whining, but Jim would be acute enough to see that Francoise only means well.

    "I still remember the first time I realised I was here to stay! I locked myself in my cabin, with nothing but a few books and sketchpads to amuse myself, but I cried and cried until I flooded the ocean and did not eat for a whole week! It was horrible, horrible, I felt like I was mute, that I could never talk again and could only sob my words instead of speaking." Francoise sat on the table, a great rustling of fabrics denoting the half turn she mde to peer closely at Jim. "But you have me, Jim. You are not mute. I heard you sing. You can speak to me, because I do keep secrets."

    She eagerly awaited a response.
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    INTERACTION : @mr_pibbs
    MENTION : @RainyDays @mr_pibbs

    AZZA MARGULEAnother night, another day, spent on the ship called Princess Elizabeth. The captain firmly stayed on his feet, saying that this name fit her like cookies in the jar. Azza, on the other hand, thought that 'Eazim' (mighty in Arabic) did a better job as name for this baby. Seriously, why people kept giving girl names for strong bulky ship? She couldn't find the right logic for that, maybe because women were naturally stronger than men in many aspects. If that were the reason, she would agree with the captains' choice. But again, this ship was not hers, so her opinion floated off by the waves. Arguing about the name that already nailed for years was pointless.

    Azza's morning today was nothing better than yesterday. It wasn't like she hated being here, she just didn't find it amusing either. Her love for drawing was the strong string that chained her long enough with the suffering she must went through as a pirate. Pirate, not sailor, much rougher, much dirtier, much... more alcoholic. Thanks to her martial arts, Azza managed to throw down some pirates that tried to pound her when they were drunk. She wouldn't let her purity taken away by those pirates... maybe the handsome and clean one could take it away, she might consider it. Azza still looking for the one true love, though she wasn't sure that thing was exist. But hey, these men were pursuing treasure that was spread by the birds, they didn't even know the treasure was exist or not, yet they still seek it, lured by the dream of swimming in gold. True love still more believable than treasure for Azza.

    The black-haired lady hopped down from her bed and walked straight to the bathroom. She was grateful that Captain Edwards willing to give her own private room. Azza couldn't imagine sleeping next to those snoring bulls. As the cold water ran through her curve, Azza finally awake. She brushed her hair carefully, didn't want to let any single of her silky hair ruined because of the salty air. After she was finished, Azza dressed up as good as she could. A lady should look captivating no matter where she was, right?

    As the door swung open, she could see the same sight she used to see each morning. The crews were already busy with their tasks. Still, some was slacking around the ship all day, but that wasn't her problem, it was captain's. She waved at some crews who cheerfully waved back. That was good, it meant that she was still loved, not hated. As she walked across the deck, her eyes caught a radiant light that was already cheering up the crews, Francoise. Just like her, Francoise couldn't offer more than moral support (though Azza still provide something useful by making maps) because of their lack of experience at sea. As cheery as she always been, Francoise seemed succeed to make the crews more spirited. Azza just smiled seeing her lovely act and continued her walk.

    The captain's rough voice suddenly stole Azza's attention. With hurry, she ran toward the voice along with the whole crews who looked as excited as she was. He found something, the long wait had finally came to an end. Being the elite ones on ship, Azza was able to stand right behind the captain, taking the perfect spot to see what he saw.

    Azza's eyes gazed upon the very first captain she ever had. Though he wasn't perfect, at least he had manner, the first and foremost thing Azza loved from a man. Manner covered almost every mole. As Captain Edward continued talking, making speech indirectly, Azza nodded in agreement. She had nothing to add her captain's words, only smiling brightly, welcoming the joyful spirit from the whole crews.

    When Captain Edward ordered them to head to his quarters, Azza brushed her hair from her shoulder and smiled, "A meeting right at a fresh morning? You really know how to kill the vibe, Capt," she laughed and leisurely put her hands on her hips, "Don't be late, as you know, I hate waiting," a playful smile thrown as she left the scene. A scent of flowery perfume hang on the air when she passed by, one of the most notable features from Azza.
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