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 Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 9:36 pm
cabbage...witchcraft? "Cap'n, we seem to'ave gotten sommat odd in th'last shipment o'groceries we took on."
Captain Katrina Chandler of the pirate ship Ghost didn't even bother to look up from her cartography at the sound of the voice of the ship's cook. She simply made a vague 'ah' noise and tapped her compass idly against the half-drawn map, frowning as she considered the placement of the islands she had just charted. They were right in relation to each other, but it was possible that their relation to the coastline to the south was slightly off. Cook, undaunted by Katrina's silence, went on unabashed.
"We've got everything we wan'ed, aye, but looks like someone thought they'd slip us a trick, as well." Striding into the cabin unasked, he thunked what appeared to be a rather large, potted cabbage down directly atop the islands Katrina was so carefully pondering. Katrina, who had been completely unready for anything of the sort, leapt up and turned to face the man.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped, glaring at the man and silently relishing the fact that he took a step back, looking alarmed. He blinked at her, and Katrina continued to scowl, waiting patiently for him to look away and mutter an apology. After about another fifteen seconds, he did just that. Clasping his hands nervously behind his back, he took another step away from his irate captain and stared at his feet.
"S'ry, Cap'n," he murmured, shuffling slowly toward the exit. "It's just 'at, I've never in me life seen a cabbage come in a pot when y'buy veggies, an' we din't order no bleedin' cabbage." He paused, looked up at Katrina, and then shrugged. "Jus'.....don' seem right. An' you try cuttin' it," he added, then turned and fled. Scowling after him, Katrina slammed the door shut and returned to her map. Shoving the cabbage plant off it, she scowled at the plant as well for a while, then down at her maps, which were stained with a faint sprinkling of dirt, no doubt from the base of the pot. Growling, Katrina swept the entire plant, pot and all, off her desk.
The sound of terra cotta shattering was satisfying, but when Katrina looked over the edge of the desk, expecting to see a decimated cabbage lying in a wreckage of pottery and dirt, she was surprised. The cabbage had...rolled, or something, and lay a foot away from the remainder of the mess, trailing roots but otherwise looking completely intact. Katrina blinked at it, frowned at the mess, and then picked up the cabbage and dropped it back on the already-ruined map. It sat there and did nothing much at all. Frowning, Katrina tilted her head and pulled a small knife from her belt. Testing it first on her thumb, she moved in to cut a leaf off the cabbage.
It didn't cut.
"That's......unusual," Katrina murmured, frowning at the plant and shifting so she could plunge the knife directly into the cabbage's center. She was subconsciously ready for the rebound, but the shock of plunging a knife at what felt like a brick wall still jarred her elbow and sent her swearing across her stateroom.
Twenty minutes and a great deal of profanity later, a harassed-looking Katrina Chandler threw open the door to her stateroom, cabbage in her arms.
"I don't know what sort of bloody nonsense this is, but until I find out, I'm going to keep it under careful observation. I need someone half-decent at carpentry in here with enough wood to make a box into th'wall. Don't know if this damn thing is witchcraft or some clever prank, but damned if I don't find it out."
Storming back into her room and kicking the door shut, she threw the cabbage back down on the desk and scowled at it. "Don't know what in the seven bloody hells you think you're accomplishing, but let me make this perfectly clear. I don't truck with this sort of idiocy, you hear me?"
Realizing that she was talking to a cabbage, she scowled and turned away from it, moving to her liquor cabinet, where she turned her glare on the brandy decanter, as if daring it to move or do something as odd as what the cabbage had accomplished.
The cabbage didn't respond, simply sat quietly on her desk and did nothing much at all.
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Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:30 pm
katrina chandler…knows about ships, not cabbages “Go down you blood red roses, go down…”
“Cap’n, what are you doing?”
Katrina jerked back from where she had been leaning over her windowsill, glaring guiltily at the teenager framed in her doorway. He took a step back rather than face the full brunt of her wrath. Katrina smiled in spite of her self, filled with a familiar egotism as she exerted her power over the youngest of her crew. She shook her bangs out of her eyes and looked him full in the face.
“Caring for the cabbage,” she answered, indicating the plant with a flourishing wave of her hand. The lad frowned.
“Sounded like you was singin’ to it, Cap’n,” he said hesitantly. Katrina looked at the vegetable, at her favourite powder monkey, back at the cabbage, and then shrugged.
“Gardeners say that the best way to make plants grow is to talk to them,” she said dismissively. The boy frowned a little bit, looking hard at the cabbage instead of his captain.
“But you was—” he started. Katrina snorted and cut him off with a wave of her hand.
“It doesn’t matter what I was or was not doing, Spence. What I say to my vegetables is my business, not yours. You are dismissed.”
Spence shook his head slowly, obviously bewildered, but he didn’t say anything more. He left still shaking his head, looking like he had gone diving too deep and had water lodged in his ear. Katrina shrugged and turned back to the cabbage.
She was growing rather fond of the plant. It was a bit like a pet, although it was much less annoying and infinitely easier to care for. It couldn’t run about or bite, for one thing, and it didn’t leave messes in the galley, for another. And it didn’t bloody bark. All Katrina needed to do was keep it in the sun, make sure it was watered, and talk to it occasionally. Or, in her case, sing to it.
Humming the same old sea shanty she had begun earlier, Katrina reached for the small kettle that sat on the table beside her. She began to sing under her breath as she poured a measure of water into the compacted soil around the plant’s base, keeping it moist. Even an old sea dog knew that much about raising a plant, especially a hardy one. Katrina got the feeling she would be hard-pressed to ever kill the cabbage. It was quite possible that it would thrive even if she did stop watering it, which she didn't plan on doing anytime soon. So much the consternation of her crew.
A goodly number of her men disapproved of the waste of fresh water, and they made it plain to Katrina. Even Hawkiss, her first mate, eschewed loyalty to his captain in this case. Katrina frowned as she remembered the man’s words the other night: ‘Cap’n, ‘t’ain’t right, your spendin’ our cutter on water f’r a plant.’ It wasn’t as if they didn’t have cutter to spend. The last raid had left them all rich as kings. And besides, they would make berth in two days. It wasn’t like a few cupfuls of water, maybe a pint every few days, was such a waste. Less than a dog or cat would drink.
“Oh, you pinks and posies,
Go down you blood red roses, go down.”
Outside, a few of the men paused to listen to their captain’s voice.
“She’s singin’ to the cabbage again,” Hawkiss remarked conversationally.
“Well, ‘s’better than if she were singin’ to us,” Spence answered, grunting with the effort of hauling a thick line.
There could be no arguing with that.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2007 3:35 pm
dealing with offensive vegetables in five easy steps “We need to do something about that cabbage, Cap’n.”
“Aye.”
Fifteen voices rose in agreement to the first mate’s statement. Katrina frowned and followed Hawkiss’s pointing hand to the cabbage in question. The crew was eyeing it like it was some sort of a monster, like it would suddenly open up into a mouth full of leafy teeth and devour them, digesting them and sending them to a warm, sauerkraut-scented end.
It sat, quietly photosynthesizing. Katrina steepled her fingers under her chin and looked back at her crew.
“Does anyone care to explain to me why this cabbage is such an urgent matter?” she asked lightly, raising her eyebrows and looking each man in the eye. All fifteen of her underlings looked away, but when she looked at Hawkiss, he glared right back at her.
There was a tense moment where angry brown battled almost expressionless blue, each gaze trying to force the other away, each combatant in the staring contest trying to force the other to blink. Hawkiss was a strong man, arguably the best pirate on the ship. But he was only a first mate to Katrina’s captain. He couldn’t win against a woman who had years of practice with dryly amused stares. He gave way after half a minute, and Katrina laughed quietly before turning back to her vegetable.
It continued to sit and photosynthesize, in a non-threateningly green sort of manner.
“It doesn’t seem to do much, does it?” she said aloud, letting the rhetorical question hang dangerously in the already charged air of her stateroom. The bulk of her crew continued to stare at the floor. Hawkiss had changed the object of his glare from captain to cabbage. He found, after a few minutes, that it was incredibly difficult to stare down a plant three times the size of his head. He glared at it all the same until Katrina spoke again.
“So what exactly are we afraid of, men? Why is this cabbage such a problem?” This time, the guilt that flickered from face to face was completely tangible; Katrina watched it ripple across her crew with interest. She had never seen her men so upset before. It was a cabbage for gods’ sake! It wasn’t even like the time the cat fell overboard. She had thought, when the Tempest hadn’t claimed them, that she had eliminated superstition amongst her crew. Apparently not.
“It uses our water,” Hawkiss answered eventually. Katrina looked at the cabbage, at her men, and at the table between the two.
“You dogs drink more rum than water,” she pointed out. “And wine when the rum’s run out.” She raised her eyebrows as the guilt returned full force. “And we haven’t a ship’s cat or a dog to drink the water the cabbage uses. It’s not like we’re cheated.”
They couldn’t disagree with that. Katrina pressed onward.
“Has the cabbage threatened any of you? Caused any of you grief?”
“No,” her men mumbled in unison.
“Has it ever hurt any of you?”
“…no.”
“Are any of you more unlucky since its arrival?”
“…no.”
“Then that settles it.” Katrina clapped her hands briskly. “The cabbage stays.” She turned her back on the men.
“Dismissed.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 4:38 pm
on cabbages, disappearing
…and children, appearing Katrina stood, gaping in despair at the withered remains of her cabbage. As far as she could tell, it had split from the inside, some time during the night. The cabbage was limp and withered and brown…and generally dead.
“Calypso, goddess of the sea,” she invoked softly, poking once again at the brown leaves. How could she have managed to kill the cabbage? Especially since, for the past two weeks, nothing bad had managed to happen to it. The thing had braved a gale, for gods’ sake! How could it go dying on her now?!
Of course, there was the fact that it looked like something had split the cabbage. That puzzled Katrina. Perhaps it had had some sort of nest of parasitic insects inside it, and they had finally eaten their way out of the cabbage and were now burrowing into the woodwork. Katrina shot a furtive glance at the crown molding and decided that was silly.
But all the same, it looked like something had split her cabbage. She wondered briefly if her crew had sabotaged it overnight, but no. None of her men were that willing to court death over an oversized vegetable.
So what had happened to it? Katrina scowled, looking around for something with which to loosen the bolts that held up the box. She didn’t remember what she had used to screw it in, but she got the feeling that it was still lying around somewhere. They hadn’t needed to do any major repairs; in any case, no one invaded Katrina’s quarters—on pain of death. She gave up the search and stopped, staring absently out the window. There were clouds on the horizon.
Something that wasn’t part of the boat went ‘bump’ and squeaked softly. Katrina froze. There were soft scrabbling sounds and another soft squeak. Katrina’s eyes narrowed. Either the ships’ rats had filed their claws, or something else had invaded her cabin. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out, but…
The scrabbling continued and was again followed by a squeaky sound, not unlike a very young cat. Katrina frowned; there were no cats on her ship at the moment. Cats were nice, but their last one had disembarked of his own accord, and the men hadn’t wanted to tempt Fate by adopting a new one.
Against her better judgment, Katrina knelt down to peer under her table. Nothing. She shifted her attentions to her bunk. Nothing beneath that either. Frown deepening, she turned and peered into the space between her liquor cabinet and her sideboard.
There was a baby.
Katrina jerked back, falling most undignifiedly on her behind and swallowing a yelp of surprise. Blinking and rubbing her eyes, she looked again.
The child was still there. Katrina’s frown turned to a scowl, and she crept forward on hands and knees.
It was definitely a child, though. Young, tan, and completely naked. And obviously male. It blinked at her with bright green eyes and made a squeaky meow.
Children didn’t meow. Katrina, for all her limited experience with them, knew that much. She looked at the baby again, and scrubbed at her eyes like she had gotten resin in them. Then she looked again. Her bewildered imaginings were confirmed.
The child had cats’ eyes. And cats’ ears…and a cat’s tail. It squeaked at her again, and Katrina snapped into action. She scooped the child up. It yowled but otherwise didn’t do anything; Katrina imagined that it was just as surprised as she was. Scowling, she stormed out onto the deck.
“Who knows the meaning of this?” she called out. All motion ceased. Hawkiss looked up from swabbing the deck.
“…where’d we get a baby?” he asked. Katrina snorted.
“That’s what I’m asking! Whose is this?” she demanded. There was utter stillness. “Is it none of yours?”
“…no, Cap’n…” The mumble was in unison.
“Does anyone know where it could’ve come from?”
“…no, Cap’n.”
Katrina pressed her free hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut until stars burst behind her lids. She needed answers, and apparently nobody could give them to her.
The child gurgled happily and curled up against her chest.
After a moment, Katrina opened her eyes. “Bosun! Chart our course to mainland! I need answers!”
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 4:44 pm
open roleplay i
Katrina brings her boy to the city to get answers, only to get sidetracked by children and chaos in a costume shop.
DEAD
imaginative plunder
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 5:11 pm
don’t ask questions…you might get answers “So you mean to tell me that my cabbage is gone and this child is the result of it?” Katrina asked carefully, watching Ariko’s expression. She couldn’t understand how this could ever possibly happen, but when she had come to the lab, she had been tactfully deferred to the ‘administrative assistant’. Since Katrina had heard that term used from everyone janitor and up, she wasn’t willing to give anyone her respect…yet. Although this woman’s bearing suggested that first-mate wouldn’t be a bad approximation of her job. Her manners certainly weren’t…what Katrina was used to receiving.
“Yes,” Ariko said simply. Katrina frowned deeply, looking at the small child asleep in her lap. In the past few days, the boy—she had named him Melchizedek at an impulse and ended up partial to it—had started to really grow on her. She stroked one coal-black ear absently, and her expression softened as the baby almost started to purr. Then she looked back up.
“But why?” she asked. “’Twas a bloody cabbage, and now it’s…” she gestured emphatically at the slumbering Melchizedek. Ariko shrugged.
“Call it an anomaly,” she said simply. “The child is your responsibility.”
“But—” Katrina sputtered. Ariko simply held up her hand.
“If you’ll excuse me, there are other matters to attend to.” And the woman stood and swept off, leaving Katrina bewildered and sitting on a chair in the lab entry, with a lightly purring baby in her lap.
It wasn’t the most unusual of situations she had been in, but it was on the list. Katrina stared after the woman, torn between admiring her clinical manners and resenting that she could be so easily disregarded. She eventually settled on mild annoyance, scooped up the baby, and stood, trying her hardest not to wake him. He didn’t bite when he was asleep.
“Well, fella-me-lad,” she said softly, looking at Melchizedek and trying hard not to get soppy, “it looks like we’re stuck together. Shipmates whether we like it or not.”
Shipmates…
Katrina was getting the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be returning to the sea anytime soon. She needed to stock up for a baby, if nothing else. Children were a bit like dogs or cats: they needed supplies different from those of typical pirates. Which meant that…
As soon as she stepped out of the lab, Katrina looked around for a payphone. Her crew weren’t barbarians, per se; they knew that the city offered hotels. She was pretty sure that all fifteen of them were still where she had left them. Pulling a slip of paper and a few coins out of her pocket, she fed the coins into the phone and dialed the number and extension scrawled on the paper.
“Hawkiss? Don’t get too ready to pack up. I think we’ll be staying here for a bit longer than I expected.”
She paused, listening on the other end. The baby stirred in her arms and opened his shocking green eyes.
“Nah, I couldn’t unload it. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a two-legged ships’ cat, boys.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 6:22 pm
private roleplay i
Melchy meets Keres, who teaches him a lesson, and Katrina finds her equal in child-rearing.
COMPLETE
an afternoon stroll...
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2007 5:59 pm
private roleplay ii
Katrina looks into an apartment and meets all sorts of colourful people. Melchy meets Riley and Harper, makes beatiful music (of a sort) with them…and gets into trouble.
COMPLETE
bambi in 207 says hello
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2007 6:44 pm
private roleplay iii
Katrina meets up with Calder for a look at the past and a bit of a social meeting for the cat-children. Naturally, it all ends in utter disaster.
COMPLETE
history appreciation for dummies
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 2:17 pm
private roleplay iv
Harper comes to visit Melchy, and Soloman and Eliot get to know Katrina and their other piratey new neighbors.
DEAD
neighbors sing the doom song
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 9:00 pm
private roleplay v
Katrina takes Melchy to the pool and meets Shade and Antony. Melchy meets the water, mostly, and Antony learns to swim.
COMPLTETE
pirates, princes, and pool parties
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2007 9:58 am
returning to the sea “Melchy!” Katrina shook the boy gently, pulling him out of his nap and almost startling him enough to knock him out of his hammock. He squalled furiously, ears and tail poofing out as he reached to claw at whoever had disturbed him. Katrina had woken the boy often enough to know his habits, though, and she dodged out of the way, waiting until Melchizedek had slashed, missed, fallen out of his hammock, shrieked his rage, and violently attacked the nearest object (a pillow strategically placed to cushion the boy’s daily fall from the hammock) to say anything else. She walked over to the seething cat, picked him up, and scratched at the tip of his ear until he started to purr, vibrating against her chest. After a minute or two, he had relaxed enough to listen when Katrina talked, and so she did.
“Melchy, what do you think about going on a little trip?” she asked. The pirates were going stir-crazy in their three-bedroom apartment, and Katrina had realized that the only way to keep everyone from killing everyone else was to get them out into fresh air and a change of scenery.
If they had been on a boat, it would have meant changing course. But they weren’t on a boat, so the easiest solution was simply to get on a boat. Problem solved!
Of course, Melchy didn’t know that yet. Which was what Katrina was trying to get at.
The boy looked up curiously at Katrina when she asked him the question, flicking his ears and tail while he thought about it. “What’s trip?” he asked. Katrina started to roll her eyes but stopped. The only way the boy was going to learn was if she was a patient teacher, whether she liked it or not. She didn’t like it.
“It’s when you go someplace. Like when we went to the park and you met Keres, or when we went to the museum.”
Melchy’s eyes lit up and he sat bolt upright in Katrina’s arms. “Go see friends?” he asked excitedly, tail already twitching in anticipation of pouncing on Keres or some poor exhibit at the museum. Katrina shifted Melchy into one arm so she had a free hand with which to smack her forehead.
“No, this one’s just with me and the crew,” she answered. Melchy’s excitement faded a little, but his look became intensely thoughtful, and then he nodded very slowly.
“Where we go?” he asked. Katrina smiled at the question, ruffling his hair a little bit.
“We’re going to take a cruise on the ship.” Melchy’s eyes widened even more. Ever since the museum, he had gotten very intense about pirates. Taki had made him realize how cool they were, and he had plied Katrina for pirate picture books and pirate stories, and everything else pirate. He knew all about ships.
“So we go ship then?” he asked. Katrina nodded and smiled. Melchy looked thrilled for a moment, but then he dampened again.
“With water?”
“Yes, with water. But that’s okay, Melchizedek. It’s not going to be such a big deal. You won’t have to swim.”
Melchy looked up at Katrina. “Promise?”
“Promise,” Katrina answered, nodding sagely. Melchy smiled again.
“When we leave?”
“This afternoon.”
The boy’s gleeful whoop undoubtedly disturbed the neighbors.
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2007 6:28 pm
spontaneous tempests cause havoc in the south seas "I can't imagine how this could get worse," Katrina growled, scowling at her feet and haphazardly toeing off one of her boots. Melchizedek sat a few feet away, legs crossed Indian-style and eyes downcast. The rest of the crew milled like geese nearby, noisy and a little bit bewildered.
Ghost had limped into port only thanks to the generous aid of another ship. A freak gale had crippled her, leaving Katrina no choice but to run up a request for help and sit with a broken mast until she caught someone's attention. The indignity of that had almost killed her.
And thanking Alexander Vega, captain of The Devil's Advocate for his help had left her bitter, while Ghost's crippling had left her furious. "I don't understand it!" she snarled, slamming her fist into her thigh. Melchy put his ears back and narrowed his vivid green eyes. Cap'n wasn't pleased, and he got the feeling that she'd be even less so in a moment or two. Katrina kept up her rant. "It was cloudless! Cloudless! There were no warning signs! None! I know the sea, and I've never seen a gale blow up like that!"
"Cap'n," one of the men--Hawkiss--began tentatively. "The sea surprises everyone, sometimes."
"Not like that," Katrina snapped. "That wasn't natural.
Melchy's ears twitched, and he frowned a little bit. His skin had tingled and his fur stood on end before the winds had started. He had thought it was weird. Maybe Cap'n would know if it was. He saluted smartly to get Katrina's attention, and then spoke.
"Make you feel like, shivery?" he asked. Katrina looked at him and frowned deeply. Melchy gulped; he hadn't meant to upset Cap'n! But he pressed on valiantly anyway. "Felt weird before. Fluffed up," he added, pointing to his tail. Katrina's eyebrows shot up.
"Black cat," someone mumbled behind Katrina. She turned to glare at her crew.
"I need time with Melchy," she said. "You lot, shoo." The crew scattered, and Katrina frowned at Melchy.
"Did you call a gale?" she asked gently. Melchy's eyes went wide, and he shook his head. Katrina sighed. "Were you running about abovedecks before you got the weird feeling?" she asked. Melchy screwed up his face and thought.
"Maybe?" he said eventually. Katrina hised softly and shook her head.
"Melchy, this isn't good. If you're calling the weather, then I need to do something about it," she whispered. Melchy blinked and whined. He didn't understand! Katrina sighed heavily.
"What are you, Melchy?" she asked. The boy frowned at her sudden change of subject.
"Cat," he answered tentatively. "Black cat..."
"Right." Katrina nodded and continued in an attempt to explain the unexplainable. "Pirates say a lot of things about cats, don't they?" Melchy nodded.
"Like how I can't swim with the crew 'cos of drowning an' the Tempest?" he offered. Katrina nodded again.
"Well, one other thing pirates say is that black cats bring storms," she said. She put her hand on the boy's shoulder. "If you run arond abovedecks, there could be another gale. The crew would want to maroon you, and I can't let that happen."
"So what do I do?" Melchy asked. Katrina shook her head.
"You'll need to run aorund only belowdecks," and you'll need to control yourself, I suppose." Melchy sighed, frowned, and then thought about it. After a moment, he nodded.
He could do it. Probably.
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2007 6:29 pm
well, it doesn't quite deserve a chorus of "hail the conquering hero"... “Well.”
Katrina’s voice was flat, what Melchy thought he had heard someone call ‘dry’ once, as she held up the piece of paper. It had messy scribbles across it, like something the boy would do in his spare time, and he wondered if a friend had left him a message.
“What is it, Cap’n?”
He asked at the same time as Hawkiss did, and the pair exchanged a brief glance before both looking at Katrina. She was glaring at the piece of paper like it had bitten her, or like it had called her a name. After a moment, she snarled, crumpled it up, and threw it away. “Evicted,” she snapped. Catching Melchy’s bewildered expression, she softened a bit and said, “It means we need a new place to live. All our effects are in storage. We’ll have to go get it.” The last words returned with vicious force, and she punched the door, neatly earning a low groan from the wood and a bitten-back curse from the bitter captain. Snarling again, she turned and stomped off. Melchy looked at Hawkiss helplessly, until the man took pity on him and picked him up.
“Where’re we goin’ now, Hawkiss?” he asked. The man shrugged and petted his hair absently, making Melchy half-close his eyes and start purring. He had noticed recently that purring made the tension go away, and that people were less mad at him when his throat made the strange noises. So he always remembered to let himself do it. If he tried to stop it, he got a sore throat, anyways.
“We’re prolly gonna go lookin’ f’r’a new place t’live,” Hawkiss answered with a shrug. “Cap’n’s cert’nly not gonna let us on th’boat anytime soon, not with alla this nonsense cropping up.” He snorted and shook his head. “We’ll fin’ someplace t’dump ye, little monster, no worries about that.” Melchy closed his eyes and cuddled against the man’s chest. He smelled funny, like the bottles Captain wouldn’t let him touch, and like the ocean, too. It was a familiar smell, and it made him feel better in the face of the bewildering anger and upset that seemed to be going on.
“Kay,” he murmured, tail flicking. Hawkiss started humming something Melchy could hear through his chest, vibrating in his lungs. It was a song he didn’t know any of the words to, yet, but the crew promised they’d teach him the next time Captain was away. So he just hummed along with the quiet melody and pretended he was still at sea, where people didn’t hate him as much...or where he could hide from the anger.
After a few minutes, Hawkiss resettled the boy only to find out that he was curled up, sound asleep. When Katrina returned, face stormy, he merely gestured at the child and she silenced. Nodding, jaw set, she refrained from screaming for the hour it took to book a motel room and stash the child away in a hammock in the closet—door open, of course.
Then all hell broke loose.
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Posted: Wed Nov 21, 2007 6:07 pm
private roleplay vi
Katrina meets a peculiar sort of fellow just before she leaves for a cruise. Melchy discovers that despite his upbringing, he's not quite living up to pop culture's pirate standard.
COMPLETE
down at the docks
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