Sailing the Seven Seas 2 - Starting/Accepting

>>Quinn<<

Back on the Calypso, in my own quarters, a yawn stretches my lips as I stretch my body, arching my back slightly so that I roll over and onto the floor. My bed is still bare of pillows and is missing one of my two blankets, so that I'm left with one blanket and a squeaky mattress.

Hopping to my feet, I walk over to the old tin bathtub in a corner of my room. I had never used it once until recently, and even now, not for its original purpose.

I reach into the bathtub, pulling out my other blanket, revealing several pillows, my two and a few extras, as well as... "Morning sleepyhead!" ...the face of a God. Alright it's only a tired Jex, smiling back at me, but that is one godly smile.

In all truth, the sight is ridiculous, the way he's curled up in a bathtub surrounded by pillows. He insisted I didn't give him all my pillows, as, y'know, they're mine, but he has to have a decent sleep. As a non-crew member, he doesn't have his own quarters. So he shares mine. There are a few rumors about what "goes on" in here, but we mostly only talk to each other and everything. What I'd like to know is what the deal with him and the crew is. They seem to have accepted him, but as an extra. It confuses me, I won't lie.

Hey people, we should be writing in third person here, just to make it consistant.
(In other words, we shouldn't use "I" except for in dialogue.)

EloquentDragon wrote:Hey people, we should be writing in third person here, just to make it consistant.
(In other words, we shouldn't use "I" except for in dialogue.)

They can write in whatever POV they want. Stop asking for us to change how we write. Also, further comments like that to the DT please: topic74267.html. Out Of Character posts interrupt the flow.

Gwen | Docks:

I stood back from the guy at the barrel. The one who was recruiting people for his crew. Of course, I wasn't sure if it was his crew or not, but it didn't matter. I was going to kill this man....even if I hated killing. Frowning, I moved up to the barrel. "Where are you headed, hm?"

The guy didn't look up. "The Americas."

I narrowed my gaze. The Americas? I had a feeling he was lying. "I don't think so," I muttered, drawing my sword. I levelled it at him. Startled, he jumped up. And when I looked past him, I noticed more crew members behind him. All were staring at me. Uh oh, I'd just dug myself a hole.

Turtle barked out a laugh, and what seemed to the woman's confusion, the crew started howling with laughter too.
"You want to kill me for that?" Turtle asked, still chuckling merrily. "Go for it."
The people in the line shifted, uneasy, and some people even left. This crew was obviously crazy. Some of the newly-requited crewmembers had drawn their swords and stood with a puzzled frown.
"Wait, don't tell me, you got challenged to by someone in town," Turtle continued.
Turtle sat, still with the sword under his chin, and put on a thoughtful expression.
"Take her away?" asked a crewmember.
"Yes, thank you, 'm boy."

Sorry I'm late. Also, I'm assuming I have rights to Mela, since she was in the original? Just let me know if I don't.

Name: Ryker

Position: Gunman/Rigger

Age: 19, as of a month ago.

Sex: Male.

Personality: He doesn't take much seriously. Deep down, he's rooted to what he knows and cares about, but he's never been one for trust, evil, or seriousness at any percentage. He's easygoing and doesn't hold much against people, but don't think that means he's quick to forgive. When things get down to the wire, though, he's another person- quick, sharp, and precise, like he always is when it counts the most.

Strengths/Weaknesses: S: He's tough, and the only thing that will stop him is a blade or bullet through the heart. (Or something to that effect.) He's a fast runner, especially when motivated, and has a good sense of direction. He's easy to get along with, and not easy to cross.

W: He can get lazy, and doesn't like doing things when he doesn't why. He gets klutzy under pressure, and the cold makes him cranky and sarcastic. He doesn't do well with weapons -give him a cannon and his fists and he'll do fine, but a sword, gun, or any sort of knife renders him just about useless.

Likes/Dislikes: L: Lonely islands, the tropics, dolphins, sleeping, and his little Capuchin. Also doesn't mind cakes or anything sweet, but that's not much of importance, now is it? Cough.

D : Going inland, soldiers, snapping turtles, being woken up, and people who discriminate against Mela. Hates killing and being told to do something without reason.

Appearance: Thick dirty blonde hair that he really doesn't keep up with, and shocking blue eyes. He's tall and broad shouldered, built well, but he doesn't care about his posture a smidge (unless it's Captain), and he honestly doesn't make an effort with anything looks wise. He has a scar that curves all around the side of his neck.

Spoiler

Why they joined the crew: Ryker was looking for an easy way out. He was an orphan boy who lived off what he could swipe in the markets, and one close call with a guard (hence the scar) sent him sprinting for his life. He'd managed, somehow, to unhook the guard's sword, and was halfway to a pawn shop, hunger in his eyes, when the guard caught up, slammed the sword across Ryker's neck, and started to tie him up. Ryker was too fast, though.

He ended up climbing on the ropes of Calypso- and caught the eye of Captain. The way he looked so at home with those ropes, and his knowledge of ropes (he'd been involved in less than legal activities) landed him a spot as a rigger. He has immense respect for Captain Beatrix.

Other: He's Mela's. Don't even try to take him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Mela (mell-uh)

Position: Gunman/Rigger

Age: 18, and Ryker won't let her forget it.

Sex: Female.

Personality: She's a proud, strong girl, who happens to have an extreme soft spot for orphans. She acts incredibly confident, and can come off as arrogant, but as it usually is, she's actually extremely insecure about belonging on the Calypso- about belonging anywhere but home at all. She knows how to defend herself and can get quite... primal sometimes. She lives on instinct- she truly goes where the wind takes her.

Strengths/Weaknesses: S: Light on her feet and nimble, quick witted and footed, and determined. Once she trusts you, she will have your back for the rest of eternity, and she's good at what she does.

W: If she's upset, she develops a harsh tongue, and she's pretty much always inclined to hit things. She doesn't trust quickly and she's so unsure of everything that she can't always be sure of what she's doing right.

Likes/Dislikes: L: Open waters, getting something done, her lineage, stars, and being called Capuchin (even though she'll never admit it). Also likes exotic fruits and visiting port towns.

D: Small spaces, doing something wrong, people who stereotype her, and the entire concept of nobility. Manners, etiquette, arranged marriages and corsets- death to it all.

Appearance: Her hair is silky, though usually messy, and honey blonde, with strips of dark brown that came from who knows what. Her eyes are stormy gray green, and she has a build made for climbing- slim, lanky, and agile. She tends to hold herself with a proud, fierce air; that includes her shoulders always being drawn back, her spine straight. She often looks wind whipped, and her skin tends to look pale, and she's notorious for always needing to borrow clothes from Captain.

Spoiler

Why they joined the crew: Mela is an Irish native, and still carries a hint of a lilt in her voice. Her father was a well known pirate- the Rogue Noble of the Seas, as he's still referred to- but he settled down for the family. He got sucked into politics, as his family was once a band of nobles, and it the night of her family's death came as a shock to everyone. Mela was hidden in a cupboard at the time, hiding from the man who slaughtered her sisters, mother, and father. She wandered for several years -eight, actually- before volunteering for the Calypso when she was seventeen.

Other: She's Ryker's, got it? Nicknamed Capuchin for her constant climbing. Gets horribly homesick. Wears a plain ring with a black, star shaped stone. She and Ryker are the Daredevil Duo- always making twists and turns no one should be able to pull off. They're like two children who've been raised by the crew, really.

Let me know if I need to change anything, Durrie!

Beatrix

I was, more or less, hiding in my apartment. It was brightly lit and sparsely furnished, how I liked it. I could hear muffled conversations, and people walking on and off the Calypso. I didn't much like when he hired new crew members-- it was always hectic and some people had bad temperaments and could become violent. I thought it was much, much safer in my apartment.

I turned back to my large map, focusing on the Americas. I needed a good direct route, preferably with as few tempests as possible. I tried to study the map harder, but the noises from outside were distracting and I soon found myself sitting in a cushion-less chair, a thin book of poetry in hand. It was my only real bound book that I owned and I'd read it a million times. I skimmed through a short narrative about a sailor falling for a girl of nobility and put it down. Nothing was helping me focus and I getting more and more focused instead on the sounds of outside.

With nothing else to do, I rose slowly from my stiff chair and exited my apartment. It was high time that I visited the outside of my ship.

Isabel|Docks

I nervously played with a dagger as I waited. I wondered if it even mattered that I was a girl. I knew what I knew about guns and knives. I didn't know what I'd do if I was reject. Probably go back and marry some boy my mother chose. The line moved up and I found myself closer to the front. I gave the other people a quick once over, then stood on my tip toes to see the man. I wondered if he would care once he saw how in control I was. At least, I hoped. I curled a lock of hair around my finger and bit my tongue as I waited.

Josiah

I smiled at the woman. She looked a little frazzled and glad to see someone harmless looking amongst all the huge, bearded pirates lumbering all over the ship, something I could sympathise with. Part of me wished that I was one of them, a fiersome, ruthless pirate instead of a fresh, clean shaven young lad. But on the other hand, did I really want to turn into a hairy lump of muscle with no teeth? Ideally I would be dashing and handsome and terrifying, but I couldn't see that happening any time soon. After all, I didn't even know how to hold a sword.

"Penicillin? Is that a kind of nut?" I asked. "But no, not that I know of. I'll eat anything, me. Except worms and stuff."

She looked at me a little oddly and then smiled. "Well, I doubt they'll be serving any of them up here!"

"You never know," I said thoughtfully. "This is a pirate ship, after all. There might be maggoty biscuits every day. Crawling with 'em."

Skye shuddered, pulling a horrified face. "I should hope not!"

"Oh yeah," I said, nodding seriously. "From what I've heard it's quite normal to take a bite and then realise that you're chewing on live creatures. Sometimes they're squashy and sometimes they're crunchy."

Her mouth twitched with revulsion reflexively, before she cottoned on and glared at me. "Stop that! I'm not taking any cheek from an apprentice like you."

"Well, sorry," I muttered.

Skye rolled her eyes and beckoned me towards a table laden with herbs and measuring instruments. "Right then. Let's see what you know about basic medicinal care."

Name: James 'Handy' McTravis
Position: Carpenter
Age (17 and older, unless you are the apprentice): 67
Sex: Male
Personality: Handy is smart, he loves puzzles and enjoys solving problems. He likes to joke around make fun of other members of the crew. He's the one people come to when they have problems or just to enjoy one of his riddles (I got lots of riddles and I'm willing to use em).He's also calm.
Strengths/Weaknesses: He was very good with a knife and sword but due to his old age he's lost his touch. He's also good at making tactics. He won't take advice from anyone but the captain, he doesn't trust anyone with his life.
Likes/Dislikes: He likes to solve riddles and to tell them. He hates rain but loves the sea and everything about it. He doesn't like idiotic people but enjoys company no matter who it is.
Appearance (realistic, here, people): Light blue eyes, gray hair. Muscular body since the work he does keeps him in shape. He's a neat man,
Why they joined the crew (be creative ;D ): He joined the crew because he of his love for the sea and that all his life he's been doing the same thing. Carpeting on a ship
Other:

Whooo! Welcome aboard, Liquiddeath!

Turtle sighed. The day was growing shorter and they still hadn’t found very many A.B.Ss. Some of the men wanting to join didn’t even know what an able bodied seaman was.
“Next.” He called out tiredly. A man approached him and began to stutter out an introduction. Turtle sighed. That’s when he spotted someone pushing through the crowd. The only thing he could really observe was a faded, black hat. Turtle watched as a tall, broad shouldered man emerged from the line and shoved the stuttering man aside.
“Is this the Calypso?” he asked. Turtle gave a curt nodd. The man quickly looked up at the ship, studying every detail. “She’s old, but she’ll do.” The man stared at Turtle. He had stony blue eyes which seemed to penetrate one’s deepest thoughts. “I’ve gotta letter here from the Captain, says she’s in need of a quartermaster. Am I right?” The man handed Turtle a small piece of white paper. He quickly gave it a glance over.
“That’s right…and you might be?”
“Declan Cunning. Most people jus’ call me Salter.” Salter spoke with a harsh, Scottish accent. He was old, perhaps maybe forty or fifty. Salter was distracted by a sailor clinging to the rigging far above the deck. He cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Hoy ye lout faced buffoon! The fore and aft’ rigging ties to the left spar, not the right ye ninny!” Turtle smiled. If his haunch was right, they had found their man. Salter turned back to Turtle.
“By the way, where are we headed?”
“The Americas.” He replied. Salter grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.
“In that case, I’d like to speak to yer captain, as soon as possible.”

*Dragon, please refrain in furture from writing from my character's point of view. Your character's is what you're supposed to be writing from and one can never assume how another character would act or think*

"Well, you can move into your cabin right away, if you want. Ask one of the crew on deck for directions. You might meet the captain up there, but if you don't, she'll be in the more impressive housing directly across from you. And don't forget to knock. If you haven't eaten recently, go to the cook for a meal."
Turtle nodded at the ship as a way of showing the man towards it.
"Hey, Mela! Do you know where the captian is?" Turtle yelled behind him.
"She's on deck, Turt!" Mela yelled back.
"Well, there you go."
Turtle turned to address the next in line, a young woman, and eyed the dagger in her hand.
"Position?"

Isabel

"Weapons mistress." I said coolly. I angled the dagger so that the the sun glinted off it, "I think I'm perfectly qualified for the job. I smiled a small, nearly unseen smile, "oh, you aren't scared of it, are you? Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt anyone on this ship. My name's Isabel, by the way." I was about to rant on when I remembered my mothers advice, ranting is unattractive. As if I wanted to be attractive to anyone. I began to play with the dagger again, easily raising an eyebrow.
"So?" I asked, "am I allowed on?" I slid my dagger into my belt and waited for his response.

Handy
“I’ve got to let you go Handy, you’re getting old.” The captain said.
“I’m still working! My work is still one of the finest quality’s out there!” I told him, yet he shook his head.
“We recruited a new carpenter, he’s young and fresh, ready for action.” He told me.
“But I’m better! I know I am, why are you doing this to me? That ship is my life! Forty years I’m lived and worked on that ship, now your asking me to leave? That ship is my home! You’re kicking me out of my home Cap’n?” I argued.
“That ship was never your home handy, it was just the place you worked. I told you, you’re out of my crew, now leave before I have to force you out.”

Those were the last words my ex-captain said to me, those words I will never forget. I now know he was right, that ship was never my home, the sea was my home.

I walk through the thick crowds at the docks, I keep thinking about the captains’ words. No. I must sign up as a carpenter for another ship, the sea is my home. I must return to it. I made my way towards the large ships docking at the port, magnificent there were, standing tall and proud. Though one ship did stand out. That ship, great and magnificent it was, was Calypso.
“I’ll take her.” I whispered to myself.
I boarded her, investigating the material the ship was made of and the strength of its mast.
“You’ll do good, you and me are going to get along. That’s if I get accepted.” I said, still talking to myself.
“Do you normally talk to yourself old man?” Asked a strange person.
“I’m not talking to myself, I discussing things with my brain.” I replied not turning. The strange voice was defiantly feminine.
“Ah, that’s a different matter then. Are you here to audition for a position? If you are I think the line is at the other side of the deck” she said
“Thanks.” I said turning around “Say, wha..” She was already gone.
I made my way to the other side of the deck and stood inline, wondering whom that women was. She spoke with authority, so I’m guessing she’s part of this crew.

Turtle scrutinized the young woman.
"I think you'll fit right in. Do you have much experience with weapons?"
The girl nodded.
"As a test, why don't you go to our armoury and pick out a weapon you would give me for hand-to-hand combat? It's over there," Turtle said, pointing.
"Sure."
The girl went on her way, and a man appeard beside Turtle's barrel.
"Trying out for carpenter position," he said. He looked seasoned.
"Do you have experience?"
"Lots."
"Well, you seem to be strong enough, and we don't have many trying out for carpenter. And most of them are cocky young bucks," Turtle continued. He looked the man over again and said, "Do you have any problem with months, maybe, at sea?"
"None."
"Well, you're hired. Do us proud, boy."
The man looked somehow happy but also had another emotion mixed in, maybe because of the word 'boy'. Turtle swore in his mind, but the man had already walked back onboard and there was no time to fix it.
"It's not like he'll be able to kill me in my sleep," Turtle muttered to himself, and he smiled.