250 || The Pirates of Tortuga || Topic 1 - Speeltopics

[ bericht aangepast op 17 okt 2015 - 21:18 ]

---

It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just... I don't love them. ~ Loki

"Billy," A soft voice whispered my name. "Billy, come on. Please open your eyes."
"One more minute, my love." I snickered while I could feel her soft skin under my fingers. The warmth was so comforting, I couldn't get enough of it. "One minute, that's all I ask."
"Billy?" Her voice sounded urgent, almost scared. "Billy, help me! Please!" I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't do it. It felt like someone stitched my eyelids together. "Billy! It hurts! Help me!"
"E-Elise? What's going on?" I've never felt so anxious before. My heart was pounding, it felt like it could stop every minute. "Elise?!"
She didn't respond to my shouting, something was very wrong. That's when I realized that the warmth of her soft skin was gone. It felt cold, cold like a corpse. My Elise, my poor Elise was gone. I didn't know how this could happen, but it felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I couldn't see and my throat felt dry, I tried to speak but nothing came out. What was wrong with me?

"Elise!" I tried to sit straight, but couldn't move freely. My hands were tied together. I was out of breath, drops of sweat ran down my face and I felt sick. It was nothing more than a bad dream. A really bad dream. I had lost my precious Elise two years ago during a battle with a scumbag of a captain, who's name I couldn't even say without raging and yet it felt like it was yesterday. My dreams were haunted, not a single night has gone by without Elise in my dreams. Maybe that was for the best, it was the only moment I could feel her. I was scared I might forget what she looked like.
In my thoughts I didn't realize someone came down to see us in our cells. Lynston. I didn't had much time to think about it but before I knew it, I was standing in a corner of a bar with other prisoners.
"Shut the fuck up. I need a crew. All the people who know they are crap, don't volunteer. People looking for something better than being drunk the whole day and going around fucking of girls, please volunteer." It was Lynston. I didn't really like that bastard. Because of him, I lost my ship and a lot of crewmembers. I hated him with whole my heart, or what was left of it anyway. It's true, I'd rather see him dead but he was reasonable and that was a very, very small part I liked about him. I could save a few members of my ship by turning me in. My life for the life of others and it worked. "So, volunteers?"
"Yeah, it's real fun!" It was one of the other prisoners who talked. The one with the dark hare who's name I didn't bother to know.
For the first time, in two years, I laughed. "Aye! You have no idea. We're having a blast, now don't we lass?."

[Sorry for the long wait. I didn't know that we started]

---

Forget the risk and take the fall...If it's what you want, it's worth it all.

A S I L A H • S I N E A D • S A L O M N

In all these years Tortuga hasn't changed much: Loaded bozos, attention-seeking lass's and mayhem. Nothing more than chaos, me mate. If you don't watch your own back here, someone will eventually let you join the pigs.
In the corner of my eyes, I see the bartender being stopped by a scrawny, little boy. There isn't much time I spent on it, he begins to maneuver his way through the crowd towards me. This isn't anything I've been waiting for, to get scolded by a lil' kid. A group of lunatics is blocking my way as I'm only a couple of metres from the door to freedom. The sudden touch at my shoulder makes me grasp the wrist roughly, ready to take this sick pervert to the ground and run for it. Although I hate to admit it, currently I'm not exactly at my best and that's why I need to avoid confrontations as long as possible.
      'Hey, mate. Are you okay?' I'm ready to give this person a spectacle he won't see coming when I notice the kid. In a reflex I let him go and stumble backwards.
      'Don't sneak up on me,' I grumble, 'Bad things happen when you do that.' I roll my eyes, as if it's common knowledge and everyone should know this. As I let my eyes wander over his hand, they shine with a certain dangerous glance. Most likely to let him know I don't like being touched.
      'Please don't mind, little old Ben the bar boy. He's just a cranky and tired.'
      'Well, maybe he should lay off the booze and start hitting on some women. That will lift his spirit.' I tell him as I put my hand on my hip. The men who were blocking my way started having arguments, what turns out in a huge riot. I duck in the nick of time, only to be missed by a bottle and avoid two people bumping into me.
      'Want to get a a pint of juice? We got fresh oranges today.'
      'Listen kid, go back to yerr mommy,' I snicker mischievous. 'I'm only interested if it's blended with a huge amount of booze.'

      'I've gotta get going,' I mutter as I hear whispers, talk of a Captain claiming to be in need for a crew. I don't think much of it, until it hits me: A crew. He is looking for a rotten crew. Well, I be damned. Without paying any further attention to the chap, I turn around and head towards the bar the voices are talking about. If some blockhead is searching for a crew, I must be there!
Walking like dead is on me heels, I —— no, I race —— towards the pub where I can find my destiny. Well, more likely to spend days on the sea. The beautiful sea who swallows anything it likes, the fierce but calm seas that has saved me several times. When I see the scene in the other saloon and note hereby who the so — called Captain is, my mouth drops open. Almost.
      'What a coinkidink,' I purr, as I walk towards him and wrap my slender fingers around his collar. 'I was wondering when evil would rear its ugly head again.' I sigh, a bit dramatically — just to make fun of him. Although we don't have a bad relationship, it isn't good either. 'What arr tho'e rumors I hear about a crew, mate?'

[ bericht aangepast op 14 okt 2015 - 22:53 ]

---

Quiet the mind, and the soul will speak.

Suddenly someone laughs, thus breaking the awkward silent that had followed. It's the obnoxious mystery-man, who never bothered to explain why he's in the position that he's currently in. Not that I've done that, but that doesn't mean I can't hate people who act the same as me. Call it arrogance or self-hate, I couldn't care less.
"Aye! You have no idea. We're having a blast, now don't we lass?." The fact that he answers though, is quite nice - I cannot recall one single moment in the past few years that his face took any other form but a grimace. It's contagious and I laugh sarcastically back at him. "You know it, gentleman. This ship offers nothing else but wonderful experience and well-cleaned cages."
Just a few seconds after I've finished the sentence, a man (obviously very intoxicated), walks over to me in a dramatical matter. "I heave nonever seay a leday widda likes o' you. Hev way met?" In a fast and trained movement, he pushes his head towards me, biting my upper lip and trying to kiss me. His breath smells like alcohol and dead fish. Jesus Christ, I've been in Tortuga before, always pitied or ignored the bitter prisoners and was able to push men like these away myself. Now I realize how horrible it is, especially now that one man starts cheering him up.
Not for long though.
With a smooth movement, I throw my knee deep in his groin, making him stumble backwards. Once he's lost balance and is kneeling in front of me because of the pain, I successfully kick him in the head, whilst exclaiming a wild warrior cry. The man drops to the ground and doesn't stand up anymore- "Good lord!" The friend cries out, completely sober now that he's had the shock of his life, and he carries his friend outside. He's unconscious unfortunately, not dead.
"Used to be my favourite place. Now I can't wait to get out of this shithole." I mutter, not to anyone special.

[ bericht aangepast op 16 okt 2015 - 21:29 ]

---

Tijd voor koffie.

Oliver Hornigold
The woman next to me, clearly didn't want anything to do with me or my attempts on calming her, which became very clear when she twisted my wrist so hard that I had a hard time not to fall to the ground shaking and crying due to the pain. Usually it would have hurt anyways, but it felt like my weak wrist was breaking all over again. I tried as best as I could to ignore the pain and make her a bit less crancky. I tried my best, but it became very clear that she only saw me as a dumb incompetent child. I was in fact a grown man, but my apperance wasn't working in my favour, which caused the fact that I was growing more and more irritated with the lady. My mum had, however, always taught me to be polite inside of the tavern. Fighting was for in the streets and at sea. At this point, when I was about to make a smart remark, more fights broke out, which made me retreat to the bar with my painful wrist hanging limp and useless next to my body. A sudden gunshot made me jump and stare at the man who had fired the gun. He was standing on a table and talking about needing a crew. It was a bit weird and sudden, so sudden that I needed to look at my mum to see if I wasn't dreaming this weirdness all up. She nodded, which both told me I wasn't dreaming, and gave me the strength and courage to walk up to the weird man. "I volunteer, Cap'ain. Oliver. Rigger First Class and apprentice Sailing Master of the late Princess Vic." I tilted my head up to try and look a little more grown-up than people usually thought I was. Suddenly a man next to me bent over and the girl who'd caused it cursed the tavern. I turned to face her. I was always taught not to hit a woman, but she was insulting my home. I pulled my knife and put it to her neck. "Say that again you whore and your head will get a pretty place on the wall." My voice growled low. This wasn't in any way an empty threat. If she said anything wrong now, her head would be severed from her body. No one insulted my home, especially not without a reason. The woman who just tried to walk away had a reason, because Ben was a dick at the end of a shift, and even with her I had to hold myself back. The pain in my wrist only made this side of me worse.

[ bericht aangepast op 14 okt 2015 - 17:53 ]

---

Bowties were never Cooler

Quite exultantly, I watched the man getting dragged out of the bar, sure of the fact that he wouldn't wake up until the light'd reached the copper beaches of Tortuga. 'May've lost my home a long time ago, I haven't lost one bit of fury,' I bragged in my thoughts, but my triumph didn't last for too long.
The two men were only out of sight for some mere, negligible seconds, when suddenly I felt the recognizable cold touch of a kiss from a sharp dagger up on my throat. The smell of the metal, the coldness in a select area that quickly spreads and forms goosebumps of surprise on your arms, had become far more familiar than to my liking in the last few months, and I tried my best to hide my shocked reaction. "Say that again, you whore, and your head will get a pretty place on the wall." A moist, damp breath and a low, growling (beastly) voice filled my ears.
What kind of sober idiot would mind this insult.
Since when is the place filled with honour-digging assholes who can't take a bad word about this place, I wondered. I had never met a fanatic before - and I was too filled with hate to mind any negative result to my actions. Even better/worse, I didn't care wether I got killed or not. My freedom was the love of my life and even though hope was my second lover, the loss of freedom sometimes felt like too much to bear. Maybe I didn't take the boy too serious anyway.
Thus I answered in the boldest way I could manage.
I didn't do it on purpose, I mean,
I was pissed off.
"Since when do the fuckboys of the lowest captains, append so much love to this place, huh? This place is a dumpster and a shithole. The day it's taken back by the sea will be a personal honour to me, everyone here and even Blackbeard the Sorrower. Sorry for Davy Jones an' Calypso who'll have to deal with this place." I spit on his feet.

[ bericht aangepast op 16 okt 2015 - 21:48 ]

---

Tijd voor koffie.

Blade Mahir Lynston

---

Kill them with success and bury them with a smile.

---

As Blade looked around him, he suddenly heard someone shouting: "Yeah, it's real fun!" Soon, he found out who had shouted, although he also could have guessed who did it. A grin appeared on his face.
"Aye! You have no idea. We're having a blast, now don't we lass?" Said the man, as he remembered it good it was Billy, next to Briar. Blade usually did not treat people, or women, like that, but he did not want to leave them on the ship, so he brought them with him.
"Aye, see, even the prisoners think it's fun, mates." He said and quickly after he heard a voice which was all too familiar.
“And any luck, any heroic sea-scabies?” John aka Blackwood made his way towards Blade. Blade looked at him, a grin came on his face when he saw a bottle of rum in one of John's hands.
"Well, we have the prisoners, always good, mate." Blade told the man. He then looked once again in the crowd, only to see a - drunk - woman walking towards him, this person too was someone he knew.
"What a coinkidink," she purred, as she walked towards him and wrapped her slender fingers around his collar. "I was wondering when evil would rear its ugly head again." Asilah sighed and Blade laughed.
"Oh sweeti', it takes evil, to know evil. But I feel flattered that you thought of me, ma'am." He told her, one side of his mouth up.
"What arr tho'e rumors I hear about a crew, mate?" A brow went up and he looked at her, though he could recall that once she had said something about a ship.
"I'm looking for a crew," Blade said. "You want to join, ma'am? Surr you can handle it?" He teased her slightly with the last question, because she looked tougher than most guys. Though now that was not the case, because she looked like she had a glass too many.
"I volunteer, Cap'ain. Oliver. Rigger First Class and apprentice Sailing Master of the late Princess Vic." Blade heard a voice say. He looked at the boy from whom it came. For a moment he doubted his age, but nevertheless he grinned at the boy. Though Oliver then did something Blade didn't really took well.
"Oliver, take that bloody knife off of that woman and leave her alone. Also taking into account that she is already pissed off," the last thing he mumbled more to himself. "She's my prisoner, so back off. It may have gone different on other ships, but on my ship you do not hurt one of the prisoners on purpose." Blade finished, waiting for the reaction of Oliver and the probably smartass, pissed off remark of Briar.

[ bericht aangepast op 19 okt 2015 - 23:23 ]

---

It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just... I don't love them. ~ Loki

Oliver Hornigold
The grin I got from the captain was comforting. It felt like he wasn't going to dismiss me jut because of my age, like a lot of other captains probably would, or give me the job of powdermonkey again. I was a bit sick of that, but everything was better than being landbound for even more years. Suddenly a whore stated talking all kind of nonsence about my home. I know it wasn't the most fabulous plac in the world, but it was still my home and I didn't take insults to it very well, especially concerning the tavern my mum worked so hard in all night and I'slaved away in for years. I wasn't even drunk, then it would have either ended in a decapitation, or nothing because I'd been too drunk to do anything. I pressed the cold metal of my dagger to her throat, just hard enough to let het feel the pressure, but not to brea het skin. What she said next enraged me even further. It was one thing to insult my home, and I knew very well that Tortuga wasn't a very good place in the eyes of many, but she could also watch her mouth, especially in a position like hers. I usually didn'hurt ladies, but she deserved it. It might be a pig's stall, but asking the gods to take it back and leave so many homeless and dead for it just being a dirty place, went way to far. And it was my home and that was a thing I held very dear to my heart, whatever dark hole it might be. I was about to slash her throat when I heard the low voice of the captain again. The low frequencies of his voice took me by surprice, which made me turn on the balls of my feet to him, with my dagger still raised. I might have left a cut on the cheek of the damsel, but I wasn't sure. I was just trying to compute what the man in front of me had said. I slowly lowered my knife, but not very volentarily. It was that he was hopefully willing to take me on board, otherwise I would have at least hurt her pretty badly a few times, or cut out her tongue, to make her pay for the monstrocities she had said about my home. "I'm sorry, cap'ain. I just don't take kindly to strangers insulting my home." My voice trembled a little, which made it clear I was trying my hardest not to do anything and act calm and collected. I wanted this job badly, to go back to sea, and hopefully seeing this nasty lady rot in a ship's jail would help with the unsatisfied feeling of revenge I had running through me at this very moment. I took a step back from the lady, but not after giving her one final deadly glare. It probably wouldn't end well, for neither me nor her, if she made another hatefilled remark about my home at this point. I'd get her, and the captain would get me in turn. I just hoped I'd get space to cool down for a minute, but knowing this place, it probably wouldn't happen any time soon.

---

Bowties were never Cooler