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 Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 1:04 pm
Robichaux let the small two-man boat flow down the beach side gently, looking to the black sky flecked of stars-- a small oil lantern hung at the bow of the vessel, there was no moon tonight so light was scarce. Captain Robichaux had always been brought up superstitous, he believed the moon was an eye to the gods at night-- so he only buried his bounty when there was no moon abound. The small boat creaked and rocked as the crewmate behind him rowed it towards the beach; finally settling near some rocks. The two got out, and carried the large chest between them, the freezing cold of the water ripping instantly through his large vests and coats. Upon reaching land the pair brought out shovels and began to dig. A long tedious work in silence except for the silent crashing of the coming tide. Once it had gotten a way in, Robichaux sat down on a rock, letting the other continue as he wiped his sweaty brow with a scented rag. "Captain? Captain Robichaux, it's ready-- 5 down and 3 across, sir." Robichaux rose and nodded "Good work thar messmate..here, let's get this over with." Robichaux picked up the chest and lowered it down gingerly into the hole with the crewman supporting the other side. The man wiped his hands and spat in the sand "Allright sir help me up so we can get back to the ship." A clicking sound could be heard from Robichaux's coats as he brought out a flintlock pistol. "S-sir!?" Robichaux aimed at the man's head and let loose the trigger, a thunderous crash echoing through the dark, and stormy night. The man lay crumpled in a heap along the chest, as Robichaux picked up a shovel and filled up the hole, letting out an eerie whistle of a tune as he worked. Robichaux finally came back to the vessel, and tying it off the rock began to sail back to his ship as the sky poured down tears of the man's ancestors in the heavens. Robichaux looked up to the sky, rain rolling down his scarry, rugged face-- as he breathed five words into the salty night air.
"Dead men tell no tales...."
This roleplay will be taking place in the height of pirate history, with some added lore and mysticism like ancient curses and great sea monsters to add excitement to this already rollicking period of time. It follows the british navy, enemy pirate/privateer groups, and the crew under command of Captain Lucas Soloman Robichaux, chronicling their plight to rule the seven seas as the richest and most powerful band of pirates of all time.
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 2:41 pm
Rules:
1. Follow the precedent rules of other rps: swearing, though allowed should be saved for more extreme circumstances. Romance, also allowed, should be kept on the DL in terms of content. (Not that Chaos Order rp's have really ever shown any romance, lol. People get so hung up on it, really it shouldn't be taken personally, it helps further characters and can make things more dramatic when someone dies; if someone's character makes an approach on your character you shouldn't think the person actually digs into you or anything. Imagine it like a school play, the people who play Romeo and Juliet work past the kiss and never really get involved outside of the performance-- it's a maturity thing I guess and-- HOLY CRAP THIS IS NON-SEQUITOR! Man, I just really started ranting there; please excuse me.)
2.Be regular, I'm personally going to be working harder to keep up on this rule faithfully
3. Follow leads, if there's a main direction going in an rp don't try to bring focus on you; an example is in Ashen Blade when Streak started moaning in pain when there was clearly something going on. Don't take it personally, but it was kind of the thing you don't want to do if there is a rising action taking place. Oh! Or in Ashen blade when Streak turned into that one monster dealie when there was DEFINITELY things going on. Ranting again, please excuse. >_<
4. Lengthy posts, again, I'm working on it as well.
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 2:43 pm
Profiles:
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Occupation:
Appearance:
Clothing:
Weapons:
Bio:
Additional notes:
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 3:13 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 3:15 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 3:40 pm
Name: Lucas Soloman Robichaux
Gender: male
Age: 29
Occupation: Captain of the "Rosenrot"
Appearance: 6' 3", a sturdy man abound with muscles and scars. He has long light brown hair to the scruff of his neck, a good layer of untended stubble adorning his chin. His left eye is covered by a black eyepatch, and he has two horizantal slices across the bridge of his nose. His hands are rough, some of his nails black and blue from the rough work of a pirate; he has eyes of jade, with a hint of gold-- people say it's his lust for it that put the color in his eyes.. On his back he has a tatoo of a map, covering all of the winter consollations-- on his right shoulder, a pale blue crescent moon, and on his left hand-- 4 black scratches lined up, they were made during his four years spent in prison.
Clothing: His attire's color scheme is strict, following black, crimson, and gold. A red sash and bandanna, a dull brown vest, red longsleeved shirt with ruffles at the collar, black leather boots to his calfs, black pants, a long black overcoat, and a black hat adorning his head.
Weapons: One cutlass, with an ornate handguard; a flintlock pistol, and a spanish blunderbuss.
Bio: To be revealed.
Additional notes: none
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 6:16 pm
Name: Marcus "Silver" Shawshank
~Gender: Male
~Age: 26
~Occupation: Scout 'Crew member of the Rosenrot'
~Appearance: A fairly short man coming in at only 5'10''. His black hair falls to his shoulders when he lets it hang but he normally has it up in a tail down the center of his back. Build in average tone, not overly muscular but able to lift his own weight and such. Small scars dot his body here and there but no major ones adorn his body.. all but one.. it runs from his left shoulder to the right side of his waste and is about a 1/2'' wide in the middle and tappered on each side.
~Clothing: A long black cloak that trails a little behind him over a rather rough grey shirt with no sleeves and so many rips it might as well not be there. Black wool pants that are actually new cover his legs and for his feet he wears a pair of soft but thick leather boots that are practically silent when he walks.
~Weapons: Four daggers placed at random across his body invisibly.. makes everyone wonder where they come from when he pulls em out. Along with a quarter staff thats always strapped to his back with the leather string. Two rather rusty pistols that he normally just leaves laying somewhere until he remembers to pick them up again.
~Bio: Detailed information to be shown at later times.
~Additional notes: Can't stand being suprised. Has a very very big secret.
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:01 pm
Robichaux let the bottle hit the hard wooden table with a resounding clang and let out a hearty yell to mingle with the smoke and assorted chatter in the bar. He sat with the ship's scout Shawshank, and his first mate-- he has docked in town to restock, grab some maps, and recruit fresh new people for his ship. Standing up, he motioned his group to do the same.
Stepping out into the sunlight he adjusted his hat to block out some of the sun. "We have arrived now, to our final means of business here-- we are to look for new recruits, people who can really get our ship moving..Let's get to it."
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:22 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:24 pm
The smaller man was rarely suprised by the sudden motions and actions the captain would do so his clatter with the bottle failed to phase him.
"Yes.. I heard of the men that left here earlier boasting about some of the men that they had working under them... unhappily. Perhaps if I talked to them.." He said the last of his words quietly with a tinge of acid, his pointed fingers twiddling with one of the hidden daggers that he had drawn from nowhere.
Silver walked out of the building, closely followed the Captain, and cringed at the sudden glare of the bright sun in his eyes.
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:53 pm
"You do...What you do best Marcus, I'll be sending me first mate with you. And I?" Robichaux stumbled a bit at saying this "Will be going down to the inn-- I need some bread, water, and a place to sit down." Robichaux staggered off toward the inn and waved behind him "Good luck to ye, bring me back winners Marcus!"
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 8:14 pm
A raven-haired woman weaved amongst the tables of boisterous men who clanged their mugs down hard on the wood to call for more liquor to fill their thirst. A bottle of rum in one hand and a tray in the other full of refilled mugs of beer, it was purely amazing that she managed to stay standing in the commotion. On her face was a sly yet innocent smile, and a glint of mischief lurked in her now deep blue eyes. Depositing her tray at a table of men who had just come in she winked at one of them, and was rewarded a copper, slipped into the edge of her leggings, a promise for more later should she prove worthy.
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 8:53 pm
Name: Christin Darico
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Occupation: Out of work sailor
Appearance: Chris has a toughness bred into her, and a ruggedness that comes from the sea. Her skin is darkly tanned from exposure, and her short brown hair bleached. 5'10 in height, Chris is very wiry and lithe, without too of a feminine figure. Her eyes are unusual in the fact that they are brown around the outside, and steely blue near the pupil, though many rarely notice. A couple scars from rope-burns, as well as a couple healing cuts across her face from a recent encounter with pirates. One cut should heal without scarring, but the one crossing her face, from her left eyebrow to her right cheek, had been infected slightly, taking longer to heal over. It served as a reminder, to keep a sword arm stiff, or else be boweled over and cut one's self across the face. Her hands are littered with scars, both from before and after she'd joined the ship, and her nails are kept short, though a few are ragged. She has both ears pierced, though only wears a silver earring in one. The only other jewelry she wears is the medallion she took off the captain of the merchant ship.
If she ever cleaned up, she would probably look much more feminine than now, seeing as how she takes extra precautions to remain looking ragged and tough.
Clothing: A front-tie vest overlays a sleeveless white shirt (which is actually more gray than white) The sleeves of the shirt have been put to better use as a headband. Loose legged pants and shoes only when going to shore.
Weapons: Has been trained in all the lighter weaponry, and some in heavier. Prefers lighter swords to other weapons, but always carries a dagger as well. It's sheathed and belted for easy reaching in case a rope has to cut...or a throat.
Bio: Chris is the daughter of some noble or another. She hasn't bothered to remember his name or title, and he thinks that she is dead. Her twin brother is actually the deceased. He was supposed to go off to a second cousin's ship, to learn the ropes before joining His Majesties Navy, but he got sick. He came back, and Chris, as the black sheep of the family and her brother's best friend, nursed him. He, unfortunately, died and Chris, seeing this as a chance to escape, donned her brother's outfit. As her brother, she proclaimed him to be well, but he sickness to have taken herself instead. And, was sent off to the very same ship as her brother. Once there of course, her ruse was found out. But her fate was not to be sent back to her family...no, of course not, she was to play slave to the sailors. So, before they could restrain her, she jumped overboard, and was then proclaimed truly dead after news was sent back to her family.
She was found by a "merchant" ship, who, allowing her to stay under the same stipulations had some interesting changes made soon after. In a duel, Chris killed the captain, taking on his role. In the meantime, she proved that she could both sail and fight, though she relinquished the ship to the First Mate at the next port.
After the duel, Chris decided what she truly wanted to do. She was sick of living by the rules everyone else got to make, and though there had to be rules in the life she was about to choose, they weren't made by any aristocracy. She wanted to be a pirate.
Additional Note: None
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 8:55 pm
Robichaux sauntered into the inn, looking around the place with interest-- a hostess bar, it was pretty spick and span for one; most were seedy places in shaded alleys, but this one seemed well off.
Robichaux sat down by himself in the corner to wait for a hostess, off in the corner he saw Levowitz, a privateer in fierce rivalry with Robichaux. Robichaux looked down immediately to try and make sure he didn't see him, he was obviously flanked by his crew; if things got rough Robichaux would be the one to go down..
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Posted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 9:05 pm
"How that man functions is beyond me," Silver uttered just loud enough for only he and the first mate to hear. He turned away from the stumbling captain and quickly walked towards the blacksmiths forge that was marked by the large cloud of black smoke rising from its three chimneys.
He worked his way through the winding and cramped roads of the sea-port community until he reached the building that the smoke plumes were coming from. The door to the small building swung inward as he pushed but stuck just before he would have had room to squeeze through. A familiar hidden voice said from somewhere within the structure:
"Sorry 'bout tha' , been meanin to ge'i fixed. Come back la'er, we'll be ope' then." His words were slurred and drawn with a heavy accent, alcohol and sleepyness were the obvious culprits. Silver reached through the door and felt the chair that had been placed just so that it would catch on the table behind it and block the door from being opened.
Never one to stand for lying, he took a step back from the wooden frame and twirled midair aiming a kick at the heart of the frame. The force from the blow knocked the table and chair back a foot and allowed the door room to open enough for both Silver and the First mate to enter uninhibited.
A startled blacksmith fell out of a chair he had been half asleep in and rolled over on the floor angrily.
"Don't bother getting up, doing so will get you gutted and fed to the peasants in stew." Silver's voice carried the weight of an intense threat and the effect was immediate. The blacksmith knocked over his bottle of rum in his hasty retreat to the corner of the room. Even though he wasn't huge or always intimidating, the Scout had the ability to become sinister in the blink of an eye.
The First Mate simply stood towards the entrance in watch for any opproaching people. Silver could have his fun now and she would have her fun later, that was just how things worked with the two of them.
Silver walked across the room, winding between the tables carefully until he reached the now terrified smith. Bending down he picked up the chair, righted it and took a seat next to the fire. Grabbing a stirrer from a stand next to the hearth he twirled it lightly and layed the barbed end in the red coals beneath the flames.
"So.. how many sons do you have smith?" He leaned back in the chair and rested his feet on the hearth the way the fat man had before Silver had disturbed him. His arms rested on the chair and his fingers were tented in front of his face, for some reason this relaxed look only added to his dark appeal.
"T-t.. t-two... sir. Eighteen and N-nineteen.'' He responded with a stutter.
''And daughters?"
''T-t..thr-ree..F-four, S-six, and twelve.''
''How quaint.. A large family.. I suppose your wife is healthy then?''
''N-noo.. sir.. she's g-gott.. a bad c-cough..''
''Thats sad.. very very sad. Wouldn't it be even more sad if your poor little girls lost their father and there brothers? Ok.. I'm tired of pleasantries.. lets just get to the threat shall we?''
''S-sir?''
''Here's what you're gonna do. You are going to go home and find your sons.. and tell them that they are to go on a long voyage, thats going to last the rest of their lives. Tell them that they are to go to the harbor and wait in open view holding two packs, two white pieces of cloth to cover their eyes, and a bottle of rum in each hand. Tell them.. that if they fail to show that you, your sick wife, and your three daughters will die in the most dreadfull way I can personally think up. Don't mess this up.. because I will follow you.. and I will make sure that you do as your told.. and then I'm going to follow your sons and if they go anywhere else than to pick up a few supplies and to the harbor.. I will take them to a cave, and knock them out.. when they wake up the five bodies of their family will be sitting in front of them. Make sure they get the message." Silvers face was decieving with a broad smile and a glint in his eyes.
As he got up he took the fire-hot iron rod out of the coals and slung it into the right hand of the terrified man on the floor thus sticking him to the floor. This action was rewarded with a peircing scream.
"Better hurry.. and remember.. I'll be watching you.. tell a soul about me or my buddy here.. and you and yours die." With that Silver and the First Mate left the building and dissapeared into a nearby alley, just in time to avoid being spotted by the now approaching villagers.
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