A Pirate's Life (For Me) Group RP

BrookeDi

BrookeDi

Well-Known Member
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Haytham left the Navy port irritated. He'd hoped they'd be willing to help him, but they had simply laughed at his proposal. "Fund such a folly mission," The ship Captain had snorted, "unlikely." And they had shooed him away.

Back in his lab, the scientist sat, frustrated. He'd tried everything that he could think of short of sailing a ship of his own to the cave himself. Except he didn't know anything about sailing. Thinking about it, Haytham realized he'd never actually set foot on a ship before.

The idea didn't occur to him until the middle of the night. He woke up, sweating, and he just knew. "Pirates!"

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Finding a ship to sail him to Nassau was easy enough, finding a cheap passage to Nassau, not so much. But there was a cargo ship that was making a stop there to make some trade and they allowed Haytham aboard the ship for just a few coins. It was a two day trip and Haytham was hung over the railing puking the entire time.

Once in Nassau he spent a day recovering and the following afternoon posting parchment around town, begging for a pirate crew. The problem, though, was he wasn't offering enough... and he didn't have much more he could offer the crew.

He'd also need to find a ship.

When he went into the tavern, he wasn't really hopeful, but he had to try. Map in hand, the dark haired scientist pushed his spectacles further up his nose and entered into the tavern. Immediately he felt out of place. There were drunks, whores, maidens, and so much muscle.

Haytham was fairly certain he'd never had a muscle in his life.

He cleared his throat and no one looked in his direction. In the corner and old man, whom Haytham thought was either dead or asleep, raised his head and shouted at the woman behind the bar. "Aye, Niemh, give meh another pint, will ya?" His grin was large and then his head dropped down. Haytham tried again, a little louder this time. Still no one payed attention, but he continued anyway.

"Uh, if I may... I'm looking for a pirate crew," A woman with less clothes than a child smiled at Haytham and waggled her fingers in his direction. He shook his head, "Uh, no thank you. Uh, anyway. I need someone to sail to a cave on Petite Caverne." The small island cupped around a larger, rocky island, was far south of Nassau and known as a home to smugglers, and not many went their willingly. "There will be pay, of course," the scientist continued, nervously, as he moved further into the tavern, bumping into a large man as he did so.

The pirate turned, glaring at the scientist who gulped. The pirate swung and Haytham dropped to the floor causing the pirate to punch another pirate in the back of the head.

Within seconds fighting had broken out, the drunk in the corner was wielding his sword rather expertly for someone who had looked half dead just a second ago. He knocked someone flat on the floor and then idly wandered over to where Haytham was cowering. "I'll go on yer little hunt."

"Great," Haytham muttered weakly, "I'll interview when things have, uh, settled.
 
The Whistling Donkey was a hot spot for pirates, so close to the docks that one could hear the creaking of the older boats as the bobbed in the waves, but that may also just be because the walls are so thin.

A young woman was perched behind the bar, a common place to find her in the afternoon and into the night. It was her mother's place and she'd been helping out around it since she was a little girl, many of the older customers had watched her grow up and many were more than willing to pull out their weapons should anyone threaten to raise a finger against her; of course, growing up around rowdy pirates had left her capable of defending herself. Niamh Ward had smashed many of bottles on the heads of unsuspecting men once they got a bit too aggressive.

That day had seemed almost too peaceful, but Niamh was sure it wouldn't last too long. She'd spent the day pushing pints across the bar to Victor, after all, and once Victor had had one too many to drink (though it would be more than a handful by that point and Niamh was always hoping that he'd pass out instead) all hell seemed to break loose. So when a fight broke out because of some scrawny bespectacled man, she was more than surprised, and a bit pissed off.

Watching Victor pull out his sword and knock someone to the ground did not help the growing anger inside the small woman.

"Oi! You idiot, this is a bar not a fight ring!" She shouted over the clash of weapons and the painful sounds of fists on skin. She was out from behind the bar in a second, large glass mugs clenched in her fists.

Niamh stormed across the tavern to where the scrawny man was hiding behind Victor, smashing the mugs against pirate heads, backs, and anywhere she could hit really.

"What exactly do you think your doing?"



Meanwhile, a young lad who by no means looked like he was supposed to be in that building (much like that man who'd started the fight) was trying to make his way through the commotion. A variety of limbs swung towards him at all times and Jimmy Kidd had never been so agile in all of his seventeen years on the world.

His luck didn't last.

A fist connected with his right cheek and he tumbled to the ground, legs kicking up into the air like some odd sea turtle. The punch wasn't enough to completely knock him out, but Jimmy laid there on the ground completely dazed. Bloody hell.
 
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It wasn't a funny sight to see the Englishman at the bar. It was, however, odd to see him with no lady at his side. He glanced around the tavern, looking lonely, abandoned and glum. For once, his thoughts were somewhere apart from his work or his women; he was wondering about his home. He'd been saving up for years to try and get a boat there, but between a less than ideal pay in his work, and the basic needs of living, he hadn't been able to save up enough to get anywhere near it. There were a lot more fisherman in Nassau than there were where he came from. He wanted rather desperately to return; he was sick and tired of the sun, of the pirates, and of the stinking taverns full of ruffians. He longed for some sort of reasonable temperature, the quiet sea and the familiar food. Not only that, but he knew that he had his parents and his younger siblings, who probably thought he was dead. He imagined his grand return, but chuckled to himself and shook his head. He'd be stuck in Nassau for many more years until he could do that. He returned to his beer - it wasn't his style to get drunk, and he wasn't yet, but maybe tonight, he would do just that.

As he started to fade into the drink, he heard some calls for a pirate crew. What sort of desperate man turned to a tavern full of drunkards for his crew? He may have been offering pay, but it couldn't have been that much if he had to wade through some of the lowest of the low to find someone willing. However, it planted a seed in his mind. If he could pay in gold, maybe he could pay in a boat? The little thought growing in his head, the fight broke out. He wasn't too eager to participate; he might have looked strong, but there wasn't that much to him when you compared him to the other bar patrons.

He knew that if he jumped into the middle of the fight, he would probably be knocked flat to the ground and not wake up for an hour more, and then the odd looking man would be gone with whoever else and he'd never get to know if his faint hope was possibly fulfilled. Bearing in mind the great risk of getting hurt now, he drank the rest of his pint and left the mug on the bar. He kept as close to the wall as he could as he walked to where he could see the scrawny man, and managed to escape with only a little punch to the shoulder, and it hadn't even been aimed at him.
 
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Diego felt he was somewhat to blame for the current situation. Which was pretty awesome. Sitting up on a support above the bar's main floor, legs dangling over the edge, he laughed and clapped as the men fought. Noticing that the old drunk Victor was up and about, he fingered the loop of string that his gold tooth was tied to. Poor bastard never did figure out who took it. Nor who poured his beer over him about a minute ago to wake him up.

Diego quickly switched positions, body hanging in the air as he used his legs to keep him from falling, looping them around the wooden pole. In doing so, he spotted Niamh weaving her way through with her signature technique of using patron's own bottles to knock their lights out.

Aaaand shit. There was Jimmy. Probably the drink affecting him, since the guy was never usually brave enough to try and wade his way through a bar fight. Hrm, he seemed to be doing pretty well. Far more than what he expected from aaaaand there he goes. Reckon that's his cue then.

Bending his body to grab the support, Diego un loops his legs and allows himself to drop to the floor amidst the fight, landing over Jimmy. Drawing his rapier in one fluid action, he enters a stance he had seen those prissy guards use once or twice. One arm extended but not too extended, legs apart and the other arm behind his back. 'Course, the arm behind his back was actually gripping his gun. Seemed everyone knew it too, since they steered clear. Maybe it really was time to get going, if even this lot were wising up.

Looking down at Jimmy, Diego gave him a grin. "Havin' fun?"
 
Haytham scrambled to hide behind the nearest person with a sword, who just happened to be a drunk. The drunk, though, seemed to be holding his own and Haytham shoved his glasses further up his nose.

Victor hadn't had this much fun since the fight that happened last week. Niemh always seemed to blame him, but he never started the fights, he just participated. There wasn't much else to do. "Aye, but it's a pirate bar which makes it both a fight ring and a bar." he winked at the darling barmaid and beamed. She was often stern with him and he flirty with her, but he actually thought very highly of Niemh. Behind Victor, the bespectacled stranger leaned around him and stared at the busty woman and stammered, "W-w-w-ould you come along on the crew?"

If Niemh went, Victor would definitely be going. He knew her parents and wouldn't let any harm come to the girl. 'Course she'd just think he was going to ogle her, which was only a perk.
 
"And who, exactly, is going to be paying for all of the repairs?" Niamh snapped back, shoving her finger into Victor's chest. Her mother already had a hard enough time paying for everything, pirates messing up the join certainly didn't help anything.

The request seemed to come out of the blue and Niamh snatched her hand back from the older pirate, turning her hard gaze onto the man hidden behind Victor, the one that had started the fight. "Join your crew?" She glared at him, but paused. She had always wanted to get away from Nassau, her father used to always tell her that she was destined for greater things than this small island could give her, but she couldn't just leave behind her mum. Plus, she wasn't very interested in being surrounded by a bunch of pirates. They annoyed her enough at the tavern. But didn't pirates equal treasure? And treasure normally meant money.

She shoved Victor out of her way, which wasn't particularly hard considering how much he had drank, sizing up the skittish man that had given her the bizarre request. Why would this man need a crew? She crossed her arms over her chest. "How much will you be paying your crew?"


For Jimmy, Diego was a sight for sore eyes. At least, he was hoping it was Diego, he still had stars twinkling in his eyes from that punch. His voice helped shake him a bit and the blond boy sprawled across the floor responded to him with a loud grunt. No. He was not having fun. He suspected Diego was, though, Diego knew how to throw a punch or two and he always seemed to be around whenever Jimmy was in a pinch.

Embarrassing. He could feel his cheeks bloom a bright crimson.

"Please help."
 
Alexis surveyed the fighting, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Bloody idiots, the lot of them. Couldn't go a minute without fighting, of course, otherwise it really wouldn't be the same place. She winced sympathetically as her gaze traveled to the person on the ground, but she made no move to get up and help him. After all, why should she? Not like I know him or anything, she thought, glancing back to the discussion she'd been eavesdropping on.

Her eyebrows shot up, and she perked a little from her seat in interest as she heard them speak of pirates. Alright, yes, she wasn't really the sort to enjoy long, dreary boat rides, but the life of the pirate had always enticed her. The aspect of the adventure in it all- well, why wouldn't it be appealing? Honestly, she could never understand those who thought being a pirate was a horrible thing. And pirates were associated with treasure, unless she was mistaken, so that would mean money as well- quite an appealing idea, at least to her.

She almost forgot that she was supposed to be looking as if she were just here to drink. Hastily she lifted her mug and took a sip of the beer, almost slamming it back on the table. Hopefully she hadn't stared too long or seemed incredibly shady- that really wouldn't do, would it? Alexis leaned against the counter, took another swig of her drink, and waited for them to continue instead of just glaring. Maybe they'd have something interesting to say eventually.
 
Vivien scowled at the parchment she'd torn from a tree somewhere in town, she'd just been rejected again and it was really pissing her off. She had just enough coin to pay the tavern lady for another night at the inn and the ale she was currently drinking and then she'd be on the street like a common urchin. She'd come to Nassau hoping beyond hope that someone would take her in, but her former crew had done a number on her reputation. "...Guess that's what happens when you bail on a semi-famous ship..." She grumbled, knocking back a hard swig, but coughed it up again when someone slammed into her, pinning her to the bar. "Hey!" She roared as her beverage flew from its container and coated the waist-high counter in a thick liquid substance that was sure to leave a sticky, slippery mess. "Bastards!" She added, spinning around on her stool - or at least she attempted to, it was more of twisting motion - and slammed her fist into someone's face, she didn't particularly care who it was or what they looked like, all she cared about was that they moved. Once they did, she glided from the stool, glared at the poor fool with a gushing bloody nose, and slammed down a couple copper coins onto the counter before storming over to the gathering group; seemingly unconcerned with the bar fight taking place all around her. Or maybe she just didn't care, as she set her sights on the clearly misplaced gentleman and made a beeline for his location. "Hey, you got a ship with this declaration?" She demanded, thrusting the parchment away from her body, completely ignoring the conversation taking place. "You got a ship, you got a sailing master." She added with a jerk of her chin, as her gaze swept briefly over the other patrons in the vicinity. Sizing them up or deciding just how low she'd sunk was a mystery even she wasn't sure about. After a moment, her attention turned to the other maiden and a softer look overturned her frown and she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, girl. I didn't particularly help, did I?" She inquired, her gaze sliding back to the patron still holding his bleeding face. "I'll help clean this up." She decided flatly and proceeded to set a chair that had been knocked over upright before clamoring on top, cupped her hands around her lips, and hollered. "Knock it off, you lightweights! You wanna wreck something so badly, the Barfly needs redecorating!" She suggested with a grin.
 
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The bar scene wasn't normally one that Luci found himself drawn to. Every time he made landfall, the lanky giant youth preferred to stick around the docks, talking to the sailors, trading stories and tall tales, trying his hardest to find out if anyone else had seen one of them yet. Not that it mattered. He hadn't seen one since his first trip out to sea, so the odds of anyone else getting even a glimpse of their majesty was unlikely. It was whispered they only showed themselves to the worthy, or the doomed. At first he'd thought that, for years, he'd been doomed. But every ship he'd even been on seemed to be blessed, and every job he ever took on seemed to impress. By the time he'd become a man, he'd already developed a bit of a reputation around the various docks and ports in the Caribbean. It'd been an additional two years since then, and now quite a few Captains knew his name. He carried their recommendations, and more importantly, he carried the pay he'd saved up over all these years.

Its how he was able to afford his royal purple frock coat, satin and silk, cut deep and long and embroidered with thread-of-silver inlay. Breeches of a similar shade and quality. A wide leather waistband studded with iron and silver. Shin-high boots, beautifully stitched with scenery involving bats and ocean waves and crescent moons, crafted from the finest shark leather he could afford after a year of savings. His hair was oiled with lavender and allspice, and his body was perfumed with many a same scent. Nothing about him screamed "a man of the sea" or "pirate", but the hard, distant look in his eyes, the scars all across his knuckles and face and arms, the very way he walked screamed "Ocean Man".

Alexander carried everything he owned with him. His clothing, a large but not-too large sack slung over his shoulder, a decently heavy coin purse, and a dagger strapped to his outer thigh. The ship he had rode in on wasn't going back out to sea for another six months, and it was time to move on, and, much as he loathed the idea, the tavern seemed the best place to try and find employ. The Whistling Donkey didn't look like much from the outside. Certainly not an establishment the young Alexander wished to enter. And judging from the raucous spilling out from its doors and windows, his estimate couldn't be more spot on. With a half snarl on his lips, Luci would enter the Donkey, one hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of his weapon, the other clamped even harder on the strap to his bag of belongings.
 
Twila sat near Victor, that was before the fight started and he jumped up to join. She sat with a full mug of a rich liquor relaxing. Now, while Twila loved bar fights, all she wanted was to just enjoy her booze. Of course the men getting thrown her way during the fight had to ruin it, in the form of her mug getting knocked out of her hands and spilling all over the table and seat next to her. Throwing her mug viciously against the wall to her right, she stood up and threw her chair out behind her with a growl. "You bloody fools you owe me new mug of booze." In her thick Scottish brogue she growled and narrowed her eyes at the man who laid at her feet. Throwing a kick into his ribs she stepped over the downed man towards Victor.

Approaching the older man she saw Niamh and him having a conversation with a man hidden behind him. "God damn bloody bar fights, just wanted to enjoy some feckin' booze. Can't a girl just enjoy some of it." Twila paused and spit off to the side, after being a pirate for so long her language and manners went out the window. The older man Victor had taken Twila under his wing upon leaving Scotland. It didn't take her long to meet many people during her travels. Twila had over-heard part of the conversation between Niamh, Victor, and the weird man behind Victor when walking over. It was something of interest to her. "Eh? What's this I hear about gathering a crew? Sounds fun. Won't you need a Sea Artist there to guide your crew?" Smirking, Twila shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. "Won't that mean more money for booze? Yeah yeah. Count me in." She elected herself to the crew quite rudely, but she did figure they would need all the help they need.
 
Diego let's out a laugh at that. Seems like he wasn't too affected by the drink, as long as that blush was from embarrassment. Grinning at the guy, he extends his hand, which Jimmy gladly takes. Hoisting the teen up, he pats him on the shoulder and looks at the guy, momentarily checking their heights. Seemed he was still taller. Jimmy always seemed to be taller than him, hell he was taller than most of the people in this bar, the lanky git.

Placing Jimmy's arm around his shoulders, he gets the other teen to walk. "Come on, let's get ya to Niamh. She always knows how to help. That or she can go get yer Ma?" He says as he gets the both of them out of the brawl, only having to mildly stab one man (or woman, some of them were that hairy) who didn't seem to be a local.

As he made his way towards where he spotted Niamh (and Victor, to which he quickly hid the tooth from sight), he got to talking with Jimmy. It had been about a week since the last time the two saw each other and, as he was the only other male teen nearing his age, Diego had to admit he had felt slightly lonely. Hence the bar fight. "Ya know, at some point yer gonna have to let me teach you how to use a sword. Or at least a gun. I know what you say, that you 'don't need it' and that 'you can handle it yourself', but seriously, you don't know the meaning of power when people suddenly respect you because of a blade. Oh, and I'm not letting go of you until you prove you can walk. I remember last time with the pigs."

By that point the two had made their way over to Niamh, who had just shoved Vic (Don't tell anyone he calls him that) out of the way to get a look at a... what was a guy like that doing in a place like this? Listening in on their conversation for a small bit, he did manage to catch the word 'pirate'. Huh. He may have found his way out.

Coughing into his fist, he grabs their attention and gestures towards Jimmy. "Took one to the head. Think he's alright?

[Had meant to post this last night but fell asleep. Whoops.]
 
Haytham was beginning to think that coming to the tavern had been a terrible idea. Still he cowered behind the man with the sword and missing teeth, hoping he wouldn't get knocked down again. Although, now that there was a fight going on, more people seemed interested in his proposal. He covered his ears as one of the women shouted and when he released them, he noticed a man approaching from behind--how Haytham wished he could walk with that confidence--and then several offers to join the crew. "I don't have a ship, yet." he admitted.

In front of him, the old man was laughing. "I'm hardly the one who started it'all, Niemh." Later that evening when the tavern had long closed a messenger will drop off a bag of gold to help with repairs. No name, no idea who it came from, but it would be Victor, just like it was every time. He did lower his sword, though, because it seemed more conversation was happening and those who were left standing after the fight were either no longer interested and had taken back to drinking or leaving, and the rest were now circling him and the spindly guy behind him. "'ve got a ship."

The few there around him looked at him in surprise. How did the old drunk end up having a ship of all things. The guy just grinned mischievously before turning to the Scottish woman. He considered something and then just shook his head. Looks like she'd be coming along, too. He was suddenly very tired.

Haytham cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses for the millionth time. "Uh, alright. Well, I will just be, uh, outside if those of you interested would come speak with me, one at a time, please, and we can get a crew together, uh by tonight."

He tried looking at Niemh, but couldn't seem to look at her so he just avoided eye contact all together and stared at the floor, "Very sorry about the state of things, ma'am." He was eager to find the door, get some air, and speak to these people individually. He had a whole list of questions prepared about their previous pirating experience, any references--though he certainly couldn't afford to go and follow up on any of them.

The second he did make it out into the clear air, he took a deep breath. It was going to be a long journey with these people. One by one, some impatiently, those interested came out. Some were not... exactly what he hoped for but with the pay he was offering and the route that they would be required to take, he supposed he couldn't afford to be picky.
 
At least Niamh had some time before the man wanted an answer, she'd need some time to think about whether or not she wanted to join his crew. She watched as a steady line of patrons trickled out of the tavern after him, silently cussing out each and every one of them as they stepped passed her. However, her attention was drawn by a cough behind her and she turned back to see Diego.

"You know you're too young to be in here," she wrinkled her nose at him, as well as Jimmy. She'd told them to stay out of the tavern god knows how many times and any time they were in there something like this seemed to happen to Jimmy. Poor sod. She reached forwards and gripped onto Jimmy's chin, pushing his face to the side to see the damage that had been done to his cheek. It was blossoming into a nice bruise.

"Aye, he'll be fine, just keep an eye on him." The young woman turned her hard gaze back to Diego, "and don't go starting any more fights unless you want to buy me some more pint glasses." She pointed an accusing finger at the teen and then gave him a light pat on the face, "I also know that you're probably dying to go see that weasel of a man about that pirate crew, get out there, but don't be causing anymore trouble."

Jimmy, however, was certainly not interested in being in some pirate crew, but whenever he tried to struggle away from Diego he swore that his grip tightened. "There's no way in hell I'm joining a crew, Diego," he said once Niamh had walked away to go try and clean up the mess that had been left from the bar fight. "I don't think my mum would let me go anyway."

He grimaced as Diego pulled him toward the door anyway, trying to dig his heels into the wooden flooring to get him to stop.

"And you know Mr. Galloway, he wouldn't be very happy if I just up and left Nassau."
 
Kenn heard the words 'I don't have a ship, yet' leave the glasses-wearing man's voice and froze in his tracks. How the hell was this man expecting to get anywhere if he didn't even have the means to? He considered offering his own boat, but it was a tiny thing and was really only good for what it was meant to do; get fish, and bring them back. If it could take him any farther than the shallows, then he would have been back home years ago! It could hold Kenn (and a light woman) just fine, but if he wanted to bring someone to show them the ropes of fishing there was no chance in hell. From the look of all the people that seemed interested, his boat would do just as well as a toothpick at holding them all.

That was when the old drunkard popped up. His name was Victor, Kenn was sure, and he was the last person on earth he would think to have a boat. Well, he knew the man used to be a pirate, but if he had a boat, then why was he still on the island? He could have gone pirating himself! He wondered for a moment if it was some sort of drunken delusion. Well, it would prove true sooner or later. He followed the man out of the bar as quickly as he could manage, hoping to get in and ask questions before anyone else would intervene and he would have to wait.

He asked as soon as they were outside. "Good evening," he began. "I'm interested, but I was wondering about some form of alternative pay." He ran a hand through his hair as he thought of how to say the next part. "Essentially, instead of paying me in coin, it would be most appreciated if, at the end of the trip, I could be dropped off in England. You see, that's where I originally come from, but an unfortunate fishing accident washed me up on these shores." His face visibly soured as he said that, but lightened again as he turned back to his potential employer, praying in his head that he would agree.
 
Dammit! How had she known? Diego knew she had seen him up in the rafters earlier, as one of the few people who bother to look up, but he could have sworn that she wasn't looking when he started the brawl. Giving Niamh the same cheeky grin he had for years, even when he was a kid and she in her teens, he begins to drag Jimmy out of the pub despite the other teen's protests and frankly weak resistance.

Listening to the teens complaints he gives a small chuckle. "Come on Jimmy, you can't want to be a stablehand for your whole life! What about adventure! Freedom! All that other pirate stuff!" He says cheerfully as he dragged the teen along, Jimmy's boots creating a small squealing sound as they drag across the floor.

Exiting the pub with the fellow teen, Diego looks left and right, trying to spot the 'weasel of a man' as momma Niamh so elegantly put it. "Besides, I've met your mother. She's been wanting you to try and make it by your own for years so that you don't end up a servant like her." He laughs, remembering the rather rough woman. Even he thought twice about stealing around her.

"Not to mention, can you imagine that git Galloway's face when he finds out that one of his servants, even if it was a stable boy, became a pirate? It would tarnish his reputation, people would think he was such a bad boss that those under his... his uh... em... employ! that those under his employ thought piracy was the better option? It would be hilarious!" He talks as he finally spots the small man with... was that Kenn? Huh. Guess he would try and sign up. All the fisherman ever did was talk about wanting to go home.

Making his way over, Jimmy still in tow, he stood in front of the man. Snapping a salute he had seen sailors do before, he grinned. "Names Diego Alvarez, and this here's James Kidd. Heard you're looking for a crew and well let me tell you, you'll find no greater pair to deal with your sails! Up and down we go, quick as a flash. And not just sails! Rooftops, verandas, oddly placed poles on the noble's buildings, we can do the lot! Plus, if you ever need some muscle, James here is the strongest guy in town, and he's not even done growing!" He says cheerily, grabbing Jimmy's arm to flex it and show off his muscle, counting in the fact that this weak looking man has never worked with them a day in his life.
 
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The next to approach Haytham would be Luci, having eagerly followed the man who had made the announcement amid the chaos of the brawl. As he drew near, the lanky giant would shoulder past the fisherman and the pair of show offs both, all the while fumbling with something inside his coat, a piece of crumpled, rolled up parchment.

"Sir," He began, "My name is Alexander, and I humbly request the employ you spoke of moments ago." The paper would end up being a handwritten letter of recommendation from his previous Captain. "I have experience. A lot of it." It might've been surprising, how softly spoken the youth was, especially given his size. "I can see you have a lot of folk who want your attention so I will be brief. If you have any questions for me, I won't be hard to find."

Then, the young man in purple luxury clothes would leave the quickly forming group, slouch-walking his way over towards the nearby docks, making sure to stay in eyesight of Haytham.
 
"Eh... Tch." Vivien scowled as patrons continued to brawl and all around just ignored her outburst. Annoyed even further, she let gravity pull her down from her perch. With one foot planted on the seat of the chair and the other on the back rest, the chair tipped again clattering to the ground as she stepped off as easily as walking down the street, hooking her ankle around the object and tossing it back upright with a jerk of her knee. Following the motion through she spun around to face the same direction as the chair, hands on her hips and the arch of her foot bent over the top of the chair. With a scowl, she shoved the chair forward slamming it into the table it belonged to as she listened to the bickering that had overtaken the drunken shouts. It seemed the fight had shifted to half the tavern patrons trying to join a crew that didn't even have a ship. "Figures." She grumbled, crumpling the parchment she still held for some reason and sauntered back to the bar where she'd slammed down her coins. No surprise the coins were gone, whether picked up by a wench or snatched by an opportunist she wasn't sure. Dejectedly, she slumped back into the chair she always seemed to claim and tried not to listen to the building banter filling the air as patrons returned to their own entertainment and wenches started their rounds again.

Slamming the crumpled ball of parchment on the counter she glared at what she had been hoping would get her out of here. "What's the point in joining a crew without a ship?" She hissed through gritted teeth. Steely eyes then flicked up to the rows of - surprisingly - untouched glass and ale behind the counter. Niameh and her mother had always been kind to Vivien when she was in port and she'd started a kind of friendship with Niameh, or at least she thought of the younger woman as such. It was just as possible that she was imagining it. After all, Niameh was nice to everyone in the tavern. At least until they starting wrecking things. "Wish I had more rum... I'd take myself up on the offer to redecorate the Barfly. That place really does need redecorating. Too bad I ain't drunk enough." She whined to herself. No one else cared, and obviously she wasn't getting anywhere near that wannabe crew. She supposed it was a bad time of year to be trying to get on a crew. A lot of people in port this time of year, most of them switching drafts and looking for new work as their contracts expired. Which meant a lot of desperate people with good references. Even if she tried, she probably wouldn't get hired. "No reason to try then." She decided with a huff.
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A brilliant grin plastered on his face and a woman on either side of him - cooing over his sob story and smothering him with sympathy - Azazel knew he wasn't going home alone. And if he played his cards right, he could probably get them both to join him. Experience told him that wouldn't be difficult to achieve as his grin spread wider. With careful control, he turned the charm up just a little higher. "Oh it was terrible!" He exaggerated, throwing his weight forward and nearly toppling the women practically carrying him between them before abruptly throwing his weight back again. This time they did lose their balance and the three fell backwards. Or rather, he fell backwards and expertly pulled both women on top of him. "Oh my beautiful Jessabelle!" He wailed, burying his face in the nearest woman's shoulder, mostly to hide his smug smirk as her fingers twisted in his hair and she began humming her sympathies while her companion slithered off his lap, came around, and tried to wrap his masculine form in a comforting embrace. "I couldn't save her! I couldn't-!" He choked, forcing a quake in his shoulders that apparently did the precise trick it was meant to. Before he could take his next breath, the two women were suddenly bickering about which of them could better bring him out of his regret.

"Now, now ladies..." He smoothed, all traces of his former bluff gone as he wrapped his arms around them both again, "I think I'll need you both to get over this." He suggested with a wink. It earned him a scathing look from both women before all three of them broke out in laughter and Azazel pushed himself back to his feet before helping his companions as well. They continued on like that for a few more minutes as they traveled down the cobblestone path. Along the way they got a few knowing glances and even more cat-calls, but he didn't particularly care as he answered those with a wolfish grin that showed too many teeth. After a few blocks, he stopped listening to the banter between his companions and quit trying to frighten every drunk that staggered past them with fiercely predatory stares. He was losing interest, again. He could feel it draining out of him with every step he took. He'd been hoping to enjoy his pretty little escorts - in more ways than one - but the farther he walked the more he just wanted to drag them out in the bay and drown them. The sustenance they offer isn't worth the effort. He thought gloomily, trying to force himself to remain pleasant. Not that they would care, if he wanted to keep them enthralled. Unfortunately, he didn't. He was just about to tell his traveling partners to get their meaty fix somewhere else when a delicious smell met his olfactory senses, igniting a new flame of interest, and his attention turned to a gathering of less than respectable folk around a gentlemen who clearly didn't know the difference between an able-bodied crew and a pirate crew. "Sorry ladies," He admonished, retracting his arms and taking two measured strides away, "There's something that requires my attention, I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain-check." He didn't give them the chance to argue and bolted for the tavern, although he somehow made it look casual.
 
Twila stood amongst the gathering group. It looked like it would be a good group on the ship after all. Twila turned to the door as the man Haytham walked out. She followed the group heading where he went and stood waiting for her turn in a line. While she waited she would lean against the wall of the tavern and watch everybody who approached him, taking in their appearances and what they might be good at. Even though she may be on a ship with all these people, eventually, she had to judge for herself whether she may be able to trust them or not. It was finally her turn to approach Haytham and she held out a hand for him to shake. "Twila Deighton, pleased to make your acquaintance. Just call me Twila, or the 'Devil's Grin' that works too. I blame this man ova' 'ere fer helping with that nickname." She thrust her other hand in the general direction of where Victor was. He had adopted her almost, in a way, when she left Scotland at the tender age of 14. It's been almost nine years now and she can say that she definitely doesn't regret her decision to leave Scotland one bit. IT has been one hell of a trip/adventure, but she learned more than she would've staying in the blasted country filled with dreary days.

Twila turned back to Haytham. "I'd like to apply for a position on your crew. I'm gettin' bored just sitting here. I'm a Sea Artist so I study weather patterns and the star charts. I'm assuming you'll need somebody to navigate the ship and you'll need all the help ya' can get." She smiled and bowed her head once in a sign of respect. "I would be honored to help ya' out on this trip if you'd let me." Now Twila may like to cause trouble here and there, but she tried her best to avoid it out at sea with somebody. After all, it was either make nice and stay on the ship, or make enemies and be stuck out to sea with them for who knows how many months. If that happened then she would constantly have to be looking over her shoulder for a sign of an attack. Twila would rather avoid that so she could focus on her job more than anything. She smiled back at the man and snapped the fingers of the hand she didn't have waiting for a handshake.

"That's right yer prob'bly gonna want my application." She laughed and reached into a pocket of her pants, to pull out the said piece of paper. She held it out to him and dropped the hand waiting for a handshake since it was getting a little awkward for her. She guessed if he wanted a handshake he would hold out his hand for one anyways. Pushing her application into his hands she smiled. "Please consider it. I would love to join ya' on this adventure. I'll be back in the tavern if ya' need me." With another smile she finished speaking with the thick Scottish brogue that still followed her around, and betrayed her appearance to this day, and walked back into the tavern. In a dark corner where she could see everything that was going on, and who was coming into the tavern, she waved the barmaid over for another drink and pointed to the still knocked out man; whom she had kicked in the ribs earlier. "Another mug please. And put it on that guy there's tab."
 
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Alexis's eyebrows shot up as she examined the nice little crowd that'd gathered around. Seems like this was much more serious than she'd thought- much better of a crew than she thought he'd compile, anyways. She'd suspected it would be a crew of drunks but apparently, it was really going to be a good pirate crew. She slid off of her stool and snatched the application she'd found lying around, briefly searching her pockets before pulling out a pencil and getting to writing.

When she finished, she slid off the stool, bringing the paper with her and leaving her mug behind to go find the man. She searched for the door for a minute or two, "Looking for a crew, eh?" She said, a single eyebrow raised. "I'd be happy to join the crew here if ya don't mind. I haven't really got the slightest of an idea what on earth you'd do on a boat, neither do I have a shred of experience, but I figure you'll need all the people you can get. Besides, it gets boring just sittin' around here, and I can fight pretty well if you lot needed it. It'd be great to work with everyone." Alexis had half a mind to run away, cringing internally at her statement. Jesus, she sounded like some overexcited little school girl begging to play with the older kids. Granted, it could've gone worse, but that was still pretty bad. She stepped back to hand him the parchment before walking back to the tavern, hoping that she just might have a chance.
 
Haytham was suddenly in over his head. There were all these words he didn't quite understand "Sea Artist" to him sounds like someone who wants to paint the sea, but the woman had explained her role well enough. Some of these had prepared applications and references while others just their word. The scientist had no clue what kind of crew members he'd be needing and they were all eager and some seemed at minimum half qualified.

He shook hands with all of them, took all the documents that were offered over and skimmed through him. These were the pirates he was being offered, he was not going to be choosy with what pay he could offer. Granted, once they made it into the smugglers den, and hopefully back out, they could take whatever the smugglers had hidden in that cave and that would be recompense enough in addition to their pay.

He hoped.

Diego and James... Haytham hesitated welcoming those two aboard, though, because they were young and innocent (yeah, okay) and he didn't want this trip to corrupt them but Diego was a persuasive little shit and soon enough he did admit them. Alexander seemed just as young but his references and preparedness couldn't be argued and Haytham accepted him as well.

Victor he wasn't exactly eager to bring along but the drunk had practically shoved his face in Haytham's and he was the only one who had a ship for the crew to use. He was worth it, if just for that. He'd also said he had worked on the ship The Secret with the Blackburne twins whom even Haytham had heard of (whether he believed Victor's claim was a whole other matter).

Since pay was limited, the bespectacled man who had no business mixing in with pirates determined pay as thus: the more experience, the higher the pay. It seemed fair, in his mind, to compensate the crew for their ability. Having met with just about everyone he thought would be interested, he went back to each of them and offered them a position on the ship.

Lots of sassy women, and a handful of men far more attractive than Haytham could ever dream of being along with a few children. Once he finished following up with each of the individuals who approached him, Haytham sat at the bar of the Whistling Donkey and put his head in his hands. Yes, indeed, he was certainly in way over his head.

As for Victor, he was absolutely thrilled to be going back to sea. Sure, he had a ship and could theoretically leave anytime he wanted, but he had things in Nassau to take care of and lacked the crew to actually work the ship. He was sitting at the bar nursing the same drink he'd had all evening. Everyone just assumed he'd been having different ones and even Niemh didn't realize she hadn't brought him more than one. He knew the girl had considered leaving, but she would never do it without a little encouragement... and she needed to get away from here.

"Ya know, Niemh," the old man slurred. "I heard yer mum talking about trading you to Mr. Galloway as 'is wife fer one o' 'is ugly donkeys. You don't get off this island soon and make a life for yerself, yer gonna end up married to Mr. Galloway." He finished the drink, hoping that was just the push she needed to go speak with Mr. Ilackaspine at the other end of the bar.
 
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