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 Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2012 5:53 pm
On the eve of war in New London...
Christopher McPowell, the Baron of Stoneybrook, was on his way to a meeting with Lord Fatherton, Governor of New London and the colony of Pennsylvania. Upon returning from another successful hunt, McPowell was summoned to receive his new orders.
It was odd, the summoning. McPowell was tasked as a pirate hunter and he was good at it. But rumors of war with the Rebels were sweeping the colonies and the Baron was worried he would be dragged into the conflict. It wasn't that he wouldn't fight for England but he didn't harbor anger at the Rebels like his compatriots did. As a Scot, he could understand why they yearned for freedom.
My lord Baron is the best pirate hunter there is!
McPowell grimaced. He recognized the voice and he could guess why the boy was yelling.
If your b*****d lord is so good then why hasn't he caught Cassie the bloody Red? Captain High and Mighty probably too busy drinking tea and crumpets to find the b***h.
I'll thrash you for that!
McPowell watched his cabin boy rush a corporal from the Royal Marines. The Marine easily threw the boy to the ground. The corporal and his fellow Marines formed a circle around the boy.
A mistake that, boy. A fatal mistake.
Time to intervene. McPowell grabbed the corporal's wrist as he was about to lay into the Baron's cabin boy.
Lay off, corporal, this fish is a wee too small for ye.
The Marine corporal's eyes blazed in anger. McPowell let the man's wrist go and he reached back for the claymore strapped to his back.
Unless ye would like to fight me?
The Marine eyed the sword and slunk off without responding. His fellow Marines gave the Baron a wide berth and they all disappeared into a tavern. McPowell shook his head and looked at the boy,
Sean, what I am to do with ye?
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Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2012 8:39 pm
Somewhere of the coast of North Carolina
A large pirate ship known as 'The Red Robin' was attacking a merchant vessel. On top the ship a beautiful and deadly pirate captain 'Cassie the Red' also known as 'Captain Cass' by her men or by her enemies as 'Bloody Red Cass' or 'Cassie the Bloody Red'. She had a cocky grin on her face as her red parrot Bart sat on her shoulder, Cassie lifted up her cutlass in the air.
" Take all the cargo you find! Kill all who oppose us!Go! FIGHT!"
The pirates made quick work of the ship stealing food, clothes, and yes they even found some gold and jewelry. Although some of the biggest prizes were sugar and rum that were to be brought into the harbor from the West Indies. Cassie smiled, they brought in a good haul. The naval units around the area tried to come after her and the pirates... Cassie fought them, even though it was mostly defensive. The pirate captain got away, with her loot. She laughed as shouted over the naval officers left floating the sea..
"Mess with Cassie the Red you'll wind up dead!".
Indeed the naval boat as well as the merchant boat were painted red with the blood of their slauttered crews. Other crewmen were thrown over board, fish food for the sea monsters. Cassie smirked as she commanded her crew.
" Back to Paradise Island. To Eat! To Drink! To PARTY!"
The crew cheered as they headed down south... No one knew where Paradise Island was except other pirates. Paradise Island was considered a wonderful haven for pirates.
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Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2012 8:37 am
New Amsterdam was the second-largest city in the British Colonies, and that very fact was the city's main badge of pride. It was proclaimed in stone above the Lord's Manor in the town square, and in the warmer months, banners hung from every lantern-pole proclaiming the city's second-greatestness.
Still yet, the city seemed ready to burst with the vast number of travelers coming into town for the celebration happening in town. Carts loaded with opulent travelers, weighed heavy in fancy dress and jewelry, passed by the posted guards that greeted anyone entering a marquee British town by it's main roads. Carts full of people coming to eat, drink, and make merry on the tab of New Amsterdam's richest magnate...and Lord.
All of the carts made their way through the crowded streets, paved in the trademark white cobblestone of the cities most allied with the King, heading towards the largest structure in the entire city-the Lord's mansion. It was here that Johnathan Smythe, war hero, took residence, looming over his lands like a mother bird looming over hatchlings.
"Blimey!" Smythe beamed at the cart that drew close to the stables that sprawled off to the side of his mansion. "William Harrison! From the 5th Battalion!" The cart was ornately decorated, though it's common wheels prevented it from rightly being called a chariot. The cart paled in comparison, though, to the man who disembarked from it as his servant brought the vehicle into the stables. Harrison was not a small man, and his rotund nature was brought more to the forefront by the acre of moss-green velvet wrapped around his personage. Every step he took jingled with the medals and ornaments adorning his chest.
"Smythe, you old stodge, how long has it been?"
Smythe smiled, and turned to cause the medals on his chest to jingle furiously as well.
"Since last year of course. My lovely wife deserves to be placed on the highest pedestal every year on her birthday!"
"Too true, too true. Quite a lovely lady you found yourself, Smythe. How old is she this year?"
"Nineteen, though don't spread it around too much. She gets sensitive when anyone mentions how she's getting on in years." Smythe laughed coyly at the eccentricities of women and curled a finger around his white moustache. He hustled his guest inside, and Harrison nearly gasped.
"How many people are here this year, Smythe?"
Smythe smiled.
"Oh, must be nearly three hundred. I posted notice far and wide to the old crew. From the First battalion to the Eighth is here, at least, and I've seen several of the Special Forces too."
"Ah yes, ah yes, those were the days, weren't they, Smythe? Fighting the good fight, fighting for what's right, fighting to glorify the King!" Harrison pumped a fat fist into the air, reciting the old army chant with pomp as Smythe nodded, grinning widely.
"Yes, those truly were the good days. Warms my heart to hear that the Good Fight may be starting up again. Have you heard anything?"
Harrison looked up at the hanging gilded curtains separating the rooms in Smythe's mansion, and at the jewel-encrusted vases filled with the rare native plants Smythe had transplanted North from the battlelands of the Southern Colony Wars. His hand curled around a ring on his third left finger, depicting a curled serpent-a symbol that held importance in the Southern lands, but was nothing but ornamentation here.
"Very little. It comes of the need for secrecy, you know. The pirates. And there are spies everywhere..."
"INDEED INDEED!" The two men were whipped from their nostalgic reverie by hands clamping heavily on their shoulders, and a smiling head jutting in between them. "LOOSE LIPS SINK AIRSHIPS! I must say! The floors, Smythey! You should give your floor-mopping servant a congratulatory lash with the whip. It's so shiny I can see my smile all the way from here!"
Smythe stretched his mouth wide to show off his teeth, in what was not quite a smile though obviously intended to be taken as such, and removed the hand from his shoulder. "Ah, yes. Mister Quentaine. William, this is Quentaine. He was in our Covert Forces. He has, er, he has been celebrating with us here right since the beginning of the party."
Harrison hopped back as Quentaine stuck his face right in the pudgy man's own, grinning widely and blowing red locks out of his eyes.
"Try the whiskey, it's great. I'll be toasting the little tart's birthday for another year if the drinks are as good as this!"
"Er...yes....?" He glanced over to Smythe, who just shrugged. Quentaine craned his neck back to it's proper position, and raised a mug with a wink.
"Drink up now, for tomorrow we may all be sleeping in the gutter. Right lads?"
He toasted the pair and wandered off on his own. Smythe cleared his throat.
"A-hurm, yes, sorry about that. When you have events like this, sometimes they tend to, er, come out of the woodwork, you know. So to speak."
"I don't remember him."
"Well, everyone went their separate ways after the cease-fire. He ran down his history to me last night. Unfortunately. Apparently he's been spending the money he made on the whole thing by traveling. Myself, I'm quite happy where I am. One thing is quite true though, Willy, and that is that the whiskey IS excellent. Come now. I have other guests to greet, but you must help yourself to some. The Modesty Tax I passed on the city has afforded us some of the finest Irish import money can buy for this party."
The two men passed by Quentaine as he chattered vivaciously with a potted plant, and whispered a bit behind their hands after passing him. He watched them vanish into the throngs of people, and then turned back to the plant.
"Tomorrow we could all be sleeping in a gutter."
He turned his mug over, pouring out it's contents into the thirsty soil.
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Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2012 6:12 pm
The city of New London was beautiful as it was proud, while the men where both rich and powerful. It was the perfect city. It lived for love, lust and passion. It was her city. And she ruled it through love that was not, secretes as lies and lies as truths. This was a fantastic game they play and she played best of all. When she first became a courtesan, she'd studied and learned the art of seduction, of reading poetry, singing, dancing. But more then anything she'd leaned to study her clients. Their needs, wants and desires dreams and wishes. And she'd do everything she could to help them achieve them.
But then that was the reason they chose her. To know secrets that no one else would or could. To persuade men to do do her bidding. Just as she did now.
She had made the Baron a happy man tonight. And she hoped that he would do the same for her. It was she who'd persuaded the Baron to take her to the party New Amsterdam, for a rich and powerful person like the Barron the trip didn't take long at all on his own personal Airship. And Ethani love to fly most of all! She made sure to tell this to the Barron, as he took her to the party, and repeatedly thanking him. Over and over again.
"Oh Barron. Why do you always toy with me? You simply must tell me more!" She giggles batting her eye lashes, as they climb out form under the sheets.
"More of the glory days? I've never met anyone so interested in the art of war. Pretty soon you'll be telling me you like to read book in your fee time." The Baron chucked loudly taking another drink from his goblet of wine, as he fumbled to put his clothes on properly not wanting to put down the goblet.
Ethani had already finished with her own attire and patiently waited for him. She walked over the the mirror and powdered her nose, recoloring her lips to a plump pink color.
"I want to know more about war and it's secrets, I fear we will soon be at war once again."
"Oh no, Little Bird" He chuckled, taking another swig of his cup. "War is not meant forth e eyes and ears of young things such as your self. You are meant for only the more delicate pleasures in life. Come now the host and hostess are waiting for our arrival."
It wasn't before long they'd into the party. Back to drinking, singing and dancing the night away. At least that's the role she played. While she made her rounds among the men, chattering and entertaining them for a few moments here and there. Truly she'd look about the massive party to people she'd not recognized wondering just who the Black Wolf was.
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Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2012 7:22 pm
x
x
"So, what's wrong with it?"
"I...I don't know quite yet sir."
"What do you mean you don't know yet? You've been fiddling with it all morning, and you still don't know?"
"I-it's a rather large ship sir, and it may have taken extra damage in that last landing."
Jack sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He scowled at his first mate, Gary. He was truly pathetic. "Your title should be Last Mate," he grumbled, "Because if you were a woman, you'd be the last one I'd mate with."
Gary didn't say that the mating in this situation was not the kind Jack had in mind. He had found over time and through many trials and errors that it was pointless to contradict him because he never really had any idea what he was talking about in the first place. He just thought he did.
Watching Gary work was incredibly dull and confusing, and it was a waste of his perfectly good time. He had better things to do.
A giggle grew progressively louder, coming up from behind him. In his mind he could imagine how her bodice jiggled, her cups runneth over for him. "Mandy."
She laughed, "No silly, I'm Julie."
Mandy. Julie. Same difference. Both ended with an "ee" sound.
"I think I need some repairs myself," she said.
"What's wrong with you? Did you hurt yourself?"
"No," he said, "I just need you to check below my decks." And here, to drive the point home, she ruffled her skirts.
"Oh. Well, I'll be in my cabin in a second. Take off your clothes before I get there. All those laces on your corset are frustrating." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, heading down to the kitchens. He was hungry, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to eat before he fixed Mandy's problems.
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Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2012 6:51 pm
McPowell continued towards the governor's mansion with his cabin boy in tow. He figured he could keep the boy out of trouble that way. McPowell picked Sean up in Boston. The boy had been starving to death in an alley when the Baron took him in. Sean had been McPowell's most outspoken defender ever since.
Cap'n?
Yes?
Why didn't you draw the sword on your back?
Have ye ever seen me draw it?
No. Never. Not even when we boarded Malcom Fillion's Serenity last month.
That's because I cannae properly wield the bloody thing. I only use that monstrosity to intimidate people. British soldiers are born with a fear of the Scottish claymore.
Why, Cap'n?
Would ye want to be cut in half?
Sean chuckled at that and before long, the pair were before a large gated building sheathed in white marble. Two guards stood at the gate, attempting to look serious and important.
Fancy, eh Sean? Good evening, gentlemen. Captain Christoper McPowell to meet Governor Fatherton.
*The guards snorted in unison.*
You? You're the baron? You dress like a bloody 'ship rat.
Go on, ya b*****d, get back to your cargo hauler before we toss ya.
The Baron placed a hand on Sean's shoulder as the boy started forward.
Gentlemen, and now I use that term loosely, fetch one yer betters and we'll sort me out.
Fine. But when you're tossed, we're going to pound you.
McPowell smiled at the pair and one of them disappeared inside the gate. Minutes later, the guard returned with the governor's secretary.
Here his is, sir. A dirty 'ship rat claiming to be the Baron Stoneybrook.
It is the Baron Stoneybrook, you ninny! Come along, milord, the governor is expecting you.
The guards stammered apologies as McPowell swept through the gates. As they headed towards the house, a smiling Sean bowed to the guards.
Lovely meeting you gents! I'll put in a good word for you so the Baron doesn't cut you in half with that great sword he carries!
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Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2012 7:58 pm
Cassie and her crew made it back to Paradise Island where she walked into the Bistro with her men behind her. The Bistro was a large bar with martinis flying around thanks to tiny motor engines on them. Behind the bar was a handsome blonde man named Lucifer Morningstar. Cassie had a large smile on her face..
"Lucifer! Your finest rum!"
The men drank and ate while Cassie the Red went over to the bar looking at Lucifer. Who quirked up an eyebrow towards her and Cassie just smiled back.
" We got in quite a haul.."
" You should be careful Cassie I heard that Baron McPowell may be looking for you.."
"Pfft! That damn Baron's nuthing but a bloody fool if he thinks he can catch me."
Cassie drank some rum and took out a piece of jewelry examining it carefully..
" Damn... I really should go after Spanish ships ... they got more gold on them"
" You know... there are rumors about a revolution going on?"
"Yeah? Why the bloody hell should I care?"
" War often means money..."
" Hmm... I suppose I could rob some of the armories. Cause a bit of trouble...of course someone will have to pay me for it."
Cassie leaned on the bar a bit flipping a piece of silver in the air as she was bored and thinking. Should she get involved? Would it be profitable? And what about that blasted Baron... last time when she held him off it was cause for whatever reason he tensed up on her ship when her pannie drawer was destroyed and pannies went everywhere... She didn't understand why a man would become so nervous around a bunch of soft pannies. Cassie sighed and looked over a Lucifer twirling her hair a bit clearly flirting with him as she leaned over and whispered in his ear, kissing his earlobe and neck.
" And you Mr. Morningstar... What do you know of this...skirmish between the British and the Colonists?"
Lucifer gave Cassie a devious smirk.
"Me? Why I'm just a humble businessman... "
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2012 4:51 pm
"A common ruffian, just a highwayman, nothing worth even discussing."
"No, I heard that he's the face of a rebel network that's seeking to undermine the throne!"
"Oh, that's just propaganda. The Black Wolf is just an urban myth, propagated by the hierarchy to keep us inside after curfews." Quentaine, flanked by two lovely blondes, spilled gin on his cravat as he grinned at Constable Idle.
"Harumph." It wasn't often that Idle, head of his Lordship's police force, attended these functions, and Quentaine was reminding him acutely as to why that was the case. "I don't open myself to baseless speculation, Mr. Quentaine. All I know is that he was in the area last night. Robbed two very affluent Counts in their carriages on the way to this party."
"Oh, so you believe he'll make another appearance? How dashedly exciting!" Quentaine sloppily finished off his tankard, spilling the majority of it on the bosom of his closest blonde arm decoration.
"I wouldn't count against it. He's staged public attacks before." Idle replied, looking over Quentaine's shoulder at one of the many uniformed officers who were scattered around the perimeter of the celebration. "It's why the bounty on his head is two thousand pounds right now."
"Mm hm. Mm hm." Quentaine nodded vigorously. "Well, if you see him, run 'im through and hoist the body up for the celebration. I'd like to see that." Quentaine unhooked himself from his busty blondes and hooked them onto the constable. "Now if you will excuse me, if I had anymore piss in me my hair would turn blond."
And he staggered away.
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Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2012 3:21 pm
Quentaine, a deeply drunk man Ethani had just met, and quickly lashed on to, seemed the best way to get information. He had connections to Constable Idle. It was easy enough to get them talking about the Black Wolf. She simply mentioned him in passing.
"Who is this Black wolf I hear so much about?"
He was almost something of a notorious celebrity among these parts. And he was close. He could have very well been at the party. But Where?! She looked around, she didn't know everyone, but so far nothing out of the ordinary.
She frowns slightly at the mention of a bounty and killing The Black Wolf. She would make sure that didn't happen. She needed him. Even if he was a ruffian. America needed him too. And If he was as skilled as they all said he was. then he may need them as well.
"EP!" Ethani yelps slightly when, Mr. Quentaine spilled his drink on her then passed her off to the Constable. She needed to get closer to the Constable, and find some way to change him mind on capturing The Black Wolf. Or having hi release the Black wolf to her if he was captured. And she would. Soon. But right now she needed to clean herself up. No one wants a dirty courtesan, not in public anyway.
"Please excuse me, Constable. I'll just have to go clean myself up. I'll only be a moment, Then perhaps we could speak more of this Black Wolf. He sounds dangerously exciting."
She wiped more on her chest, turing away and walking towards the washroom.
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Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 10:09 am
"Sir! Sir!" Lord Smythe was interrupted in his conversation with Baron Cleese by a handservant. Smythe scowled at the skinny blond man.
"Excuse me, Baron. We'll have to continue our discussion of the Modesty Tax in a moment. What is it?" He glared at the servant, who shriveled under Smythe's glare.
"I-i-it's one of the guests, sir! He's, er...passed out. In the salad." The servant pointed timidly towards the table where the night's opulent dinner was being prepared. A bright, blood-red spot in the middle of the salad indicated where Quentaine had chosen to lay his head. Smythe groaned.
"Take him up to one of the guest rooms on the third floor. Lock the door." Smythe reflected. "Throw the salad away."
Smythe shook his head and turned back to the Baron, who smiled with a lightly amused expression. "Ah, I recognize that chap. That's Mr. Quentaine, isn't it? He was at the reception for my daughter's communion."
"Yes, it is. The hair's a dead giveaway, isn't it? I haven't seen a mop that bright red since my trip to Ireland three years ago. What branch of His Majesty's service was that pitiful lout in, anyways?"
"Mmm, infantry, wasn't it? No, wait. I heard rumours...He may have been part of His Majesty's Secret Service. You know..." Cleese tapped the side of his nose knowingly. "That kind of work would make a drunk of any honest man."
"Did he get as drunk at your daughter's communion?"
"I don't recall. There was a bit of excitement that went down in the middle of the party. You heard what happened to Admiral Yune."
"Ah yes, he was robbed, wasn't he? By that highwayman, the Black Wolf. And the same night, his mansion burned down. And his wife divorced him."
"Don't forget about his children disowning him and the arrest for all of those taxes he witheld from the King."
"Amazing how that all happened at once."
"Well, better him than me, that's what I say..."
As the conversation moved towards more provincial things, two manservants hoisted up the inert form of Mr. Quentaine and heaved him up the stairs. He snorted and mumbled something about scones as the servants dropped him on the floor in a room.
"Bloody pathetic, that is. He's the reason they're talking about temperance and an alcohol Sin Tax."
"His type ruin it for the rest of us." The servant aimed a kick straight for Quentaine's ribs.
"Cor, knock it off, Graham! You'll get us both turned out!"
"Ah, he won't remember it in the morning, the bloody sot." The two servants turned and left the room. The unmistakeable 'click' of the key turning in the lock rang out.
One dark eye shot open and looked around.
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Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 2:49 pm
McPowell and Sean were led to a brightly lit dining room. Dinner was being served to two men who were deep in conversation. One was an overweight man in a velvet court uniform and the other was an officer dressed in a military uniform.
Ah, Governor Fatherton. Good evening to ye. And to ye also Captain Brightwater.
The governor nodded and smiled at McPowell. Captain William Brightwater gave him a much less friendly greeting.
Evening, my Lord Baron. Please pull up a chair!
McPowell, what is that urchin that is following you?
McPowell let Sean pull a chair out for him and he took a seat at the large table that dominated the room. Sean stood behind the Baron, waiting for an order.
Thank ye, Governor. And the young man behind me, Captain Brightwater, is my cabin servant.
Send him away. He offends the eyes.
Don't be silly, Captain. The boy can stay. After all, we're all friends here.
The Baron smiled at both men. Fatherton is in a good mood, McPowell thought to himself. Be careful, Christopher. A servant poured him some wine.
I believe ye had some orders for me, Governor?
Ah, yes! Fresh from the Royal Dispatches! How would like to return to jolly old England?
McPowell blinked in surprise. He had beem banished here two years ago for his illicit affair with the daughter of Duke Ferguson, the Duke of Manchester. The Duke was a good friend of King George and he despised the upstart Scottish Baron who "seduced" his daughter, Clarice Ferguson.
Clarice Ferguson, called the Purple Lady due to her penchant for that color, and McPowell had fallen madly in love after meeting at several parties. Unfortunately for them, the Duke had other plans for his daughter and demanded the head of McPowell. King George, not wanting to kill a useful Baron needlessly, banished McPowell to the colonies instead. He was assigned a war sloop and ordered to hunt pirates preying on British shipping.
I dinnae think this would be possible, Governor. What do I have to do?
Captain Brightwater sneered.
One is something you haven't been able to do yet, McPowell. Catch Cassie the Bloody Red.
I don't believe I was talking to ye, Brightwater. But I can catch Bloody Cassie. In fact, I've come closer than ye.
Brightwater flushed with anger.
And you missed the b***h, didn't you?
McPowell rolled his eyes and looked back to Fatherton.
Is that all Governor?
Not quite, my lord Baron. You're to catch Cassie the Red and...
Fatherton looked embarrassed and cleared his throat before continuing.
And...the Razor. You have to capture or destroy the Razor.
Brightwater grinned in triumph and Sean let out a gasp behind him.
Cap'n, no!
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 5:29 pm
Cassie was had enjoyed her drink as her men were drinking and playing a few instruments enjoying themselves. Some of the men were hooking up,each trying to find, a lady for the evening, also affectionately known as whores. Cassie was still flirting with Lucifer...
"Hmm.. more chaos would be good for me. Lucifer you really should join us in a raid some time..Tomorrow we'll be hitting a shipment coming into New Amsterdam."
Lucifer lifted up an eyebrow as he was holding Cassie and whispered in her ear..
"It's not my style, my dear.."
He kissed her neck a bit and Cassie smirked...
"Lucifer I swear your the devil in disguise."
"You have no idea my dear... What about that Conner MacKent guy you were engaged to... He's a decent man, well off to from what I understand."
" MacKent? Oh Lucifer don't make me laugh. The man is such a goody-goody I can't stand it! He annoys me... besides every girl wants a bad boy at heart."
Lucifer lifted up an eyebrow...
"Oh is that right?"
Cassie slapped Lucifer on the behind and smirked...
"Oh you know it is.. "
The two went into the back private quarters of the bar... Tomorrow was another day. There were some valuable merchant ships that were suppose to be headed from the West Indies to New Amsterdam and Cassie the Red intended on robbing them blind. But for now she would amuse herself Lucifer... then catch some sleep. Being up late wasn't good for a pirate.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 3:27 pm
McPowell looked grim.
Be quiet, Sean.
But, Cap'n....
QUIET!
McPowell gritted his teeth and got his temper under control. To have the idea of returning home and to Lady Clarice...only to have ripped away by such a stupid idea. Find and stop the Razor? Ridiculous. The Razor was a ghost, a legend.
The Razor was supposedly a ship manned by the minions of Lucifer or the spirits of criminals or skeleton pirates or any number of things depending on who you listened to. Black hull. black sails, black souls aboard it, the ship was a mishmash of every ghost story from the colonies and the Spanish Main. The typical stories surrounded it. You couldn't catch it, destroy it, or kill it's sailors. No one survived an encounter with it. How was he to catch a story/
Pardon my outburst, Governor Fatherton, but the Razor is story told to young men so they won't take up a life of piracy. I cannae stop a story.
Nevertheless, that is what the King wants. He believes the stories of the ship and the trail of destruction it has left behind. The stories told-
Excuse me, Governor, but the Razor supposedly leaves no survivors so how are there stories? Simple, it's a myth.
I am just a messenger, my lord Baron. Stop Cassie the Red and put an end to the Razor, Only then can you return to England.
McPowell stood up and inclined his head.
With that, I'll take my leave. Cassie the Red isn't about to turn herself in and God knows that Brightwater couldn't catch a cold.
HOW DARE-
Good evening, gentlemen.
McPowell and Sean were escorted to the gates by the governor's secretary and then they were making their way back to The Purple Lady. Sean looked back over his shoulder at the governor's house.
Mark that one, Cap'n. He had murder in his eyes.
Don't worry ye about him, Sean. Worry about Cassie the Red.
And the Razor, Sean thought to himself.
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Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 6:06 pm
x
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With his steak skewered on his fork and a bottle of booze in the other, Jack was pretty satisfied. This was the life you know, taking it easy, sitting back and stuffing your face with things that would later clog your arteries or damage your liver (but who cares, seriously?) . Later, he'd go flop around on a bed with some floozie then kick her out of his room because the only long blonde hairs on his pillows were going to come from his head.
He didn't care that his airship wasn't flying, because he really didn't feel like doing any work anyway, and later, he'd just exaggerate how well he had done until everyone thought he was a big hero. The Americans were totally going to win, so he'd just pretend he played a huge role in that happening.
If they didn't win...he'd just flee the country and pretend he had been a poor abused man in the arms of some busty women who just needed a man to play nurse to.
And so, it was to Jack's dismay when his ship started to rise once more, tilting just enough to slide his plate across the table where it landed on the floor with a rattle and settled with a soft thud. So much for his potatoes. Finishing the hunk of meat he had skewered on his fork, he tossed it too on the floor (it's not like whoever cleaned it up would know he had done it intentionally), and headed up onto the deck with the bottle still in his hand. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded to know.
"Well, you see sir," Gary explained as he removed his hat. His fingertips turned around the rim, rotating the hat in his hands as he pinched and fiddled with it. "I fixed it."
"Well, s**t," Jack muttered running over to the wheel, "Now I have to get to work."
Gary took his place at the actual wheel while Jack hung onto the fake one single handedly, steering haphazardly while Gary guided them safely into the sky.
((Whoops. Please imagine this coming from my Jack account.))
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Posted: Tue Aug 28, 2012 2:55 pm
"What a clumsy man... " the young blond repeated in the washroom, still trying to get the drink out of dress. She was muttering and talking lightly to herself, more then annoyed about the rather small mishap.
She was only trying to get close to him because drunk lips spoke more freely then not. She loved information but it seemed that this was just another party and the man she hunted would not appear.
"Black Wolf." She leaned into the mirror in front of her, whispering his name.
"I will find you. For the love of my country. I will find you." She made a promise to herself, putting the handkerchief away, she plastered on that fake smile she used far too often, and walked out the door.
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