A Pirate's Life (For Me) Group RP

The doctor found a room to his liking, not too far from the stairs that went up and out to the deck. He felt safer if he was closer to the exits, that and it wouldn't be the first time he got lost inside a ship, and his pride couldn't let that happen again. After finding a decent room with a window to the outside, for light and views, a desk to work on and a bed that was large enough for him to sleep in more or less comfortably, he put down his bag, he put the large bag on the bed and started searching for something inside it, a smaller bag with fresh mint leaves he had collected recently.

Néstor grabbed a few and walked back to the deck, where he spotted Haytham still clinging to the edge of the ship. Poor man... and he didn't know where the other kid was, not that he looked for him either, he'd bothered lifting his head to look for him. Since the scientist was already there, he just walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Haytham, here." He offered a few of the mint leaves. half of what he'd brought back up.
 
Diego was tired. Even after only half a day of working on the ship, which had quickly bled into night, he wasn't exactly sure how he'll manage living on the ship. He had always been lithe, and unlike Jimmy who had worked for one of the more respectable lords his whole life, he had grown up with no family to feed him as a child. Everything he got, everything he could afford to get, was through his hard work alone.

Because of this, he was skinny. He had always been quick minded, and he knew that not being able to eat while he was younger was going to have a perminent affect on him. He knew he'd never reach his true height, nor fill out as much as he had the potential too. But he was still a teen, which meant he had small room for growth. He would need it though on this ship, as he and Jimmy seemed to be the two in charge of the most jobs. He still wasn't sure what they were thinking, placing him in charge of guns.

Sighing, he paces his hands on his hips and looked around the crow's nest. He was fortunate that whoever had previously owned the ship (because there was no way the old drunk got this legally) had invested more than usual into the nest. It was a square structure, but also had metre high solid, thick walls protecting the inhabitants from the wind.

Having taken one look at the nest, he had decided that he would sleep there. He was used to sleeping on rooftops and figured this would be the same, if not better. During the day he had stolen a few blankets and sleeping rolls and made his way up. Along the way, Jimmy spotted him. After explaining what he was doing, Jimmy had stated he also wanted to sleep up there for who knows why. It would be a tight fit, but Diego was hardly going to refuse his best (and somewhat only) friend.

Just under an hour later and he had set up the small beds. They would be practically sharing, with their feet near the other's head, but it would be warm and snug. The rolling of the ship would help lull them to sleep. Peering over the edge, Diego looked for Jimmy in the moonlight. Last he knew, the stablehand had gone to Doc for something to help with the sea sickness.
 
Twila had already come down from the Roost's Nest for the night. There wasn't much she could do in the dark besides guide them with the stars. As much as Twila loved sleep, she knew being the Sea Artist would take up most of her night. However with somebody she could trust to steer the ship, she would only have to give a few directions and then catch a couple hours of shut-eye. Then when she woke up she could always switch off with whoever was still out there so they could get some sleep. For now though, she sat in her room sorting through her belongings. She had left some on the ship knowing she would be back on it with Victor again. Only when she knew that she wouldn't be on it would she take her items off. There wasn't much, a couple of changes of clothes, quite a few star charts/maps, some wide brimmed captain's hats she had 'stolen' (they were honestly just left lying there), and some pieces of jewelry. There was coin she had stashed away as well, but she would need a lot more in order to buy a small place for herself somewhere. Maybe right on the coast would be good, with a small fishing boat she could take out for a day trip.

After sorting through her things and placing them in the proper spots, Twila headed back above deck. It was peaceful at night up above deck. Twila walked up towards the wheel and up to one of the railings on the sides. She rested her elbows along it and tucked some hair behind her ear. Looking up at the stars and constellations, it didn't take her much to recognize them and their names. There was Orion's Belt, Cassiopeia, Cerberus, and even the infamous Big and Little Dipper. There were many stars and constellations out there Twila didn't know about either. But that's what star charts are for, they hold the constellations and tell you what is what. She smiled a little and waited for somebody to tell her they needed to know which constellations to follow.
 
Haytham took the mint leave and gratefully chewed on them. The queasiness didn't subside entirely, but it brought him away from the rail of the ship. "Thank you, Doc." he mumbled, unable to look the man in the eye. He'd hurried away from him the night before when they met, he'd offended him by using his last name and proper title (because that's normal), and he'd nearly thrown up on the man.

Doctor Néstor likely thought that the scientist was quite rude. He quietly disappeared for a few minutes to put his bag in an empty room and then return to the deck. It was warm and now that he wasn't going to throw up, the sea breeze felt quite nice. By the time darkness fell, he was feeling much better and he lay out looking at the stars. It was a favorite hobby of his and this was the most peaceful way he'd ever experienced looking at them as long as he didn't think too much about the fact that he was on a pirate ship.

By evening Victor would appear to be drunk, as was expected of the old man. He sang quietly to himself for a time before heading to sleep.

Duncan had made enough fried fish to feed the crew dinner and breakfast the following morning. Somewhere in the night, though, the fish that had been prepared for breakfast simply... disappeared.

The storm clouds didn't start rolling in until late in the evening. It was closer to morning at that point, and they were dark with the promise of danger. The waves picked up not long after the clouds and the ship shook from the impact. The rain would come soon.
 
"Mmm..yeah, I guess I can handle that." Carlos replies. And with that he's off below decks. He didn't take long to pick a room, just chose the first seemingly unoccupied room he'd come across. He wasn't very choosy about things like this. Just to make it very clear that this room was indeed taken, he had taken off his dirty socks and left them on the floor.

While he did know the basic workings of vessels of the sea, he'd never actually been put in charge of the maintenance of anything as large as the Obscure. Well, actually he was rarely in charge of maintaining anything at all. It still boggled his mind that he was designated carpenter, of all things, but he might as well try his best. He didn't want to be kicked off the crew (or worse) before even reaching the kraken nest. So he spent the rest of the evening familiarizing himself with the ship, or at least it's overall layout.

Night fell quicker than he had thought it would fall. Or maybe it was just his sense of time that was out of wack. He didn't feel like sleeping just yet thought so he just loitered by the railings, staring into the dark waters below until he eventually dozed off sitting on the floor and back against the railing.
 
The doctor had ended giving the mint leaves to the other kid who was barfing earlier in the day, so he quietly retreated to his cabin, taking his chance to prepare a few things, and write on his sea notebook.

At night time, after dinner, he found himself walking outside to the main deck. He was once again being a victim of his insomnia. He was surprised to find Mr. Haytham there admiring the stars, and sat besides him to enjoy the view quietly, at least at first.
 
Last edited:
Azazel was sprawled out across the deck of the ship, more comfortable in the spray of the sea that cramped in the close quarters of the cabins below. He was still holding onto the charter, surprised no one had noticed its absence. He'd been making subtle changes to the route most of the day, nothing extraordinarily noticeable, just a few degrees difference from the original path. If he could slip it back into the captain's quarters he'd be golden. Or better yet... His teal colored eyes cut towards the seemingly restless pilot still at the helm, effortlessly gliding the ship through the open waters. Vivien hadn't left the helm since they left port, she'd be tiring soon. Someone would need to take over for a couple hours at the very least allowing the irreplaceable member of the crew to rest. Patting at his jacket pocket to ensure the parchment hadn't been dislodged, he sprang to his feet and prowled toward the young woman as he drew the depictment from its hiding place. "Hey, thought you would want to take a look at the charter." He suggested, holding it out to the woman who gave him a surprised glance, but quickly covered it with a suspicious scowl.

"And why do you have the Charter?" She inquired, "if anyone should be offering it to me, it ought to be Victor. Or Haytham. What'chu do to it?" She demanded.

Azazel gave her a scandalized look, "That's rude." He gruffed, "I didn't do nothing. Saw it laying about, and figured the pilot of all people might want to see where we're headed. I'm sure someone meant to bring it to you before, but you look so comfortable up here. Like you know exactly where we're going anyways. I'm sure they just forgot." He rationalized with a shrug. "Guess they were right and I was wrong. My bad. I'll just take this back..." He started, trailing off as he started to turn away but Vivien did exactly what he was hoping.

"Wait- That's not what I meant. Let me see." She hissed, holding her hand out expectantly. With a grin, Azazel obliged.
 
"I'll make sure to ask again, then." Niamh grinned at him, "and I'm sure there's nothing like knowing that you're finally going home." She pushed off from the railing, noticing the sky darkening as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Odd, she didn't think they'd been sailing for so long. "I'm going to head below deck, see you in the morning," she gave him a nod, leaving him to stare off at the now-dark water.

She made her way below deck, prepared for most of the rooms to be taken. And they were, but she managed to find one- a small one, but it would do. She joined most of the others for dinner, but didn't spend much time afterward socializing. Niamh was completely exhausted and as soon as her head touched her bed she was out, completely unaware of the building storm outside.

Jimmy had gotten whatever-it-was that the doctor had wanted to give him after dinner and clambered back up to where Diego had made their beds. He wasn't particularly fond of heights, but he would much rather sleep near Diego than anyone else... and what if someone decided to, like, murder him or something? The thought made him shiver, but he couldn't really be sure if that was from murder or if it was from the wind that cruelly whipped across his skin as he climbed to the crow's nest.

"What if I need to puke?" He mumbled as he pulled himself into the crow's nest and into the little bed that his younger friend had set up for him. "Nestor wouldn't try to poison me, right?" He'd tucked himself under the blankets, but was now peering over the top of them at Diego, his light eyes wide with concern.

​
 
Diego lifted his head in mild annoyance at Jimmy. He had been gazing at the stars, about to fall asleep, before the lad opened his mouth. Sighing, he rubs his eyes for a second before answering. "Why would he poison you? We're in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing by sea. If he poisoned you, he'd have nowhere to run as Niamh and I fed him to whatever's down there." He says before laying his head down with a small thump.

"As for puking, he gave you stuff for that in the first place, remember?" He says, a slightly amused tone in his voice as his toes poke Jimmy's sheet, which were quickly knocked away. "You'll be fine. And on the off chance you aren't, wake me up and I'll go nah some for ya." He adds as he turns his head to look back up at the stars.

He found himself feeling somewhat... sad, as he peered up at the sky and realised that he, for the first time in longer than he could be cared to remember, he didn't recognise the night. Sure, they hadn't been moving long and he could still recognise most of it but... it was different. Out of place.

Diego fell asleep wondering if he would ever get used to that.
 
Luci wouldn't be going to bed tonight. At least, not in his room. This was his first night back out on the waves, and he fully intended to make the most of it. With a lantern, a blanket, his journal, and the bottle of fortified red he bought back on land, the violet-eyed youth had set up a little camp out spot on the prow. Even more so than the sea at daylight, Luci loved the night sky over his head. Taking several large swallows of his wine, the youth would begin to draw in his personal book. The same image he'd been drawing for nearly half a decade, once or twice a week. The same image he saw in his waking dreams and his nightmares.

Another large swig of the cheap red would lift his spirits enough that he'd begin to sing as he sketched. He didn't know what the words he slurred meant, he just remembered his mother singing them to him. Something about the words being the language of the sea and storms, but to him, it just sounded like butchered Russian. "Mat'okean derzhit menya bezopasnost..." He'd mumble, his hand growing steadier on the page. The wings were always the hardest part, after the chains of course. But the eyes were what scared him. The eyes are what drew in his adoration and turned him cold. The eyes are what he loved best.

"Derzhite morskikh demonovs nashikh beregov..." Jingling at his side as he shifted his weight. The keys he'd gotten from Victor, keys to every room except the Captain's quarters and the private rooms of his crew mates, not that those even had locks to begin with. So far he didn't know what to make of them, other than the fact that, minus the captain, this was the most ragtag, inexperienced group he'd ever sailed with. They were lucky to have him along. As quartermaster, Luci knew he would be a firm hand, but fair when needed, and cruel when the situation warranted it.

Pausing a moment, he tore a page from his journal, jotting down a list of rules he would be implementing on the morrow. Rules were everything. People who broke the laws of a ship would be punished, oh yes, they would. From a young age, Luci had learned from his father that rules must be obeyed. And if they weren't, it was more than acceptable to physically remind people what might happen if those sacred rules were broken. Broken like fingers. Like ribs. Skulls. The very souls of those that disobeyed. The string of dark fantasies only grew more intense until Luci felt himself begin to stir.

That sobered him up, just enough for him to think clearly. "No, no, no. No ones done anything yet. No reason to get excited..." He'd whisper, only to himself, taking more wine into his mouth to calm his nerves. He hadn't realized that his hands had begun to shake, and that drool had begun to drip from slightly ajar lips. "You only get to do that stuff if people are Awful. So far, everyone has been Useless at worst. Helpless at best. Except the navigator. And the doctor. Most definitely the Captain. Victor is a good man. He knows much. Must pick his brain later, get every little story we can from him. Maybe he can tell me more about what it is I saw, something more than the legends and myths and horror stories the drunken wretched and dead men I've talked to could tell..."

The bottle was nearly empty, its contents sloshing loudly with every gulp. The sketch was nearly finished, and there were still plenty more hours of moon, and stars, and dark waters to enjoy...
 
The next morning as the winds grew stronger and the clouds grew darker, Victor would storm up to where Vivien was commanding the wheel. "Where is it ya think yer goin'?" He snapped. The winds were loud and he had to raise his voice to be heard. He had spent his whole life on the sea and did not need a compass to chart a course and even less so to know that they were not following the original course.

He appeared to be drunk, often, but he was not a stupid man.

"Why are yer changing course?"

And then came the rains.

Haytham refused to go above deck when it felt like the ship was going to tilt over at the next gust of wind. It was sturdy, he believed, but between the wind and the waves he had a feeling he would be going overboard if he emerged from below deck. Instead, he wandered into the kitchen looking for breakfast. There had been leftover fish the night before and while it wasn't the most appetizing breakfast, it would feed his empty stomach. When he couldn't find the extra fish, anywhere, he went looking for the cook.

How does fifteen extra fried fish just go missing?
 
Diego hung about the in captain's quarters, leaning against the wall of the room with a coat wrapped around his shoulders. His right hand was raised, and on the index finger of it he spun a small brown hairband. To his right, crouched on the floor and huddling over a lantern, was Jimmy. Diego had woken the teen the moment he felt the familiar sense of rain and wind on his face, and together the two had maned to drag their blankets and sleeping rolls down just before te storm began proper.

It took about twenty seconds to pick the lock to the captain's quarters. After that it was simply a matter of quickly piling in, coating each other and unhooking a nearby lantern to get to the heat. Apparently Jimmy knew how to keep one going for as long as possible, so Diego let him get cloesest to it while he kept his blood moving, focusing on the doc's hairband. He had made a shot detour to the cabin the man was sleeping in to get Jimmy a few more of those green leaf things he had described (Said they 'smelled funny and fresh', which was surprisingly accurate). In doing so, he had noted the Doc's prone form as he slept and, well, the temptation was too much.

One gentle caress and amurmerred lullaby later and viola, one hairband. Diego was interested in seeing what Doc looked like with his hair down. Quietly humming to himself, he had slipped out of the room to rejoin Jimmy on the captain's quarters. From there, the two had basically just stuck nearby each other and wondered when the storm would give out. Diego had given some cursory glances at the maps on the table, even considered swiping one, but in a rare display of non greed decided the others could do more with it than he could.
 
Nestor had woken up in the morning, fairly late, and stretched a bit before getting up and off the bed. He yawned, changing into more proper clothes and making his bed.
He didn't notice the absence of his hairband until... until he tried looking for it. He knew where he always left it, and it wasn't there. Besides, someone had gone through his bag and stolen some mint leaves...
He highly doubted Haytham would have sneaked into his cabin and taken mint leaves and a hairband without saying anything, he seemed to ve a decent man so far. Therefore, it was probably the other kid that had been sick the day before. He combed his hair a bit so it wasn't all over the place and left.

After opening the door to the deck and noticing the rain, he didn't go out, heading towards the kitchen only to find it without any leftovers from the day before. He was pissed, pissed off and hungry. That hairtie had been a present from his brother. He needed to find it, and the best way to do so was to find that other kid, Alexander. He wondered if he'd be outside?...

Meeting Haytham through the halls on his way out once again, he greeted the scientist with a moody, "morning" and a growl.
 
Last edited:
Luci stood out in the rain, thanking his lucky stars that he'd woken up before the downpour, saving his precious journal. The book was once again secure, locked in the desk drawer he'd set aside for only it, so now he was free to enjoy the refreshing water coming from the sky. Like a cold shower, it did wonders to help cure the hangover pounding away at his head. Drinking a whole bottle of cheap red wine was a sure fire way to make you feel like you were dying the next day, but the young man wasn't one to break tradition. First night on a new ship always called for a bottle. Still...he was having a hard time remembering what he had talked to himself about last night. Hopefully he hadn't been too loud...they wouldn't understand, anyone who might've heard, that is. There was no point in it, they wouldn't understand his...fascinations. He refused to call them an obsession. Obsessions were for crazy folk, and as far as Luci was concerned, he wasn't crazy...he was blessed.


The captain's shout would break his self reflection, his eyes going wide. Quick as his bare feet would carry him across the rain slick deck, he'd make his way over to Vivien and Victor, taking his place to the side and slightly behind the ship's owner. "Whats going on, Sir? I heard the commotion and came over straight away."
 
When Twila had gone to sleep, they were on the right course. Yet when she woke up she could feel the rough waters tossing the boat around. In a panic she woke up and quickly through on clothes. When she burst out of her room she had her hat in hand and she ran down the hall towards the stairs. Her boots clapped against the floor and to be honest, how Twila didn't fall with the rougher waters was a miracle to her. She skid around the corner, almost falling on her side, and saw the stairs to the deck up ahead. She could see and hear the rain now, when before she couldn't. With her eyes wide and in a panic she rushed out onto the upper deck.

Twila saw then what was going on. It looked as if they had headed directly into the storm, but why? Twila told Vivien to stay to the West. She could've sworn she did. Upon seeing a fuming Victor over by the wheel, Twila rushed that way through the rain, brushing wet strands of hair out of her face as the rain continued to steadily come from the sky. "Oi! What the bloody 'ell is goin' on 'ere! I told ya' to avoid the storm and yet 'ere we are in the midst of it. Can nobody listen to my directions? I am a navigator fer a reason ya' know."
 
Kenn woke up in the morning with his nets in the corner of the cabin. He'd sat them on top of the towel he'd brought, and they'd dried out overnight. Once Niamh had left last night, Kenn had tried to get a little bit of fishing in. However, he wasn't taking it seriously, since last he'd checked they'd had more than enough fish. What he had caught had ended up rather disappointing; little things that could barely even be counted as snacks. He swung out of bed, but as soon as he did he could feel how the waves and the ship were fighting, like two tiger shark cubs in the womb. Except one of the cubs was tiny, and wasn't putting up too good of a fight.

He sat on his bed for a few moments. Had they sailed right into a storm? If they had, the chances of catching much fish were not the best. Nets that moved quick scared fish off. It was a good thing they had a lot of leftovers, then...

When he went to the kitchen to check, he was pretty damn surprised. He had a knack for knowing when there was fish around, and he could just tell they weren't around. He pouted a little and turned to Nestor. "Do you know where those extra fish are?" He asked on the slim hope that he was wrong.
 
Jimmy was sitting cross legged, his blanket hooked over his wet blond hair and draped across his shoulders as he huddled into the warmth of the lantern. The soft orange glow illuminated his gentle features, which were strangely somber.

The rocking of the boat made his stomach churn, and he could hear the rain slapping against the hard wood of the ship. He was lucky Diego had managed to wake him up before the storm really hit, but he still managed to get doused with a good amount of rain while they were running for cover.

"This is awful," he muttered, not even looking up as Diego re-entered the room from wherever he had decided to go. His eyes did finally move away from the lantern when Diego offered him mint leaves, and Jimmy was quite quick to reach up and take them from Diego's awaiting hand. "Thank you." Jimmy couldn't exactly puke in the captain's quarters, and didn't really want to adventure outside either, so he was glad to have something that would settle his stomach. The mint had done wonders the night before, despite Jimmy being slightly concerned that the doctor would try to poison him.

Niamh, on the other hand, was on deck being pelted by the rain. She'd woken up just as the storm was starting, the rocking of the boat having unsettled her normally calm stomach, and had left her cabin to see if walking around would help at all. On her rounds, she caught Victor storming up to above deck, but she waited a minute or two before following up after him. She regretted it when it only took her approximately two seconds to be completely drenched; her dark brown curls flattened against her skin and certainly making her look like some sort of drowned creature.

It wasn't long after that that Twila joined them, and Niamh felt kind of bad that they were both attacking Vivien. The pilot may have had previous experience behind wheel, but most of the people on board had been stuck on Nassau for a long time. "It's too late for that now. We're in the middle of the storm," Niamh tugged on the sleeve of Victor's jacket.
 
Last edited:
Carlos was woken up by the rain and wind bashing into his face. He just sat there for a couple of seconds, disoriented, before scrambling onto his feet and making for the stairs down all the while mumbling unintelligible curses. He'd just fallen into the deepest sleep he'd ever had for as long as he'd remembered.

He retreated to his room, soaked and shivering. He was pretty sure he couldn't go back to sleep even if he tried. The storm clouds outside had made it difficult to determine the time at the moment so he assumed it was sometime in the morning. He didn't have any changes of clothes. So he just removed his shirt spread it out and spread it out on the floor to (hopefully) dry. It was still cold though so he took the blanket off his bed and draped it over himself before heading to the kitchen for something to eat. With how the storm was rocking the ship, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd have to do any repairs anytime soon.

He entered the kitchen to walk into Haytham (or was it Hayman?), the doctor (Nes- something?), and the guy in charge of the fish (Kenn, if he recalled right). He mumbles a "Mornin'.."at the three other men.
 
Duncan got up late the next morning. He had enough fish from the night in the rum sauce to please himself. He had another meal to cook for breakfast. More than likely the crew would be famished by now. Grumbling a little he staggered from his bunk into the galley only to find that there were already grazers in his kitchen. "Yah'll come back fer more." Wading through them he made it to the front of the stove and scowled. There should have been left overs sitting in the pan unless they had already cleaned it up. It was doubtful. There wasn't much to wash the kettle with or the pan so Duncan dumped a little rum into the pan started heating it up.

"Yah'll have rum bread puddin ovah fish. Aye..." Nodding a little to himself he started to make his way back to the store room and pulled out a few crusty pieces of bread. Didn't take much bread to make a pudding and that was the whole point. He would rather ration the food and save some aside for those horrible days that they found themselves longer at sea. Moldy or not the bread would last in a puddin and the boys wouldn't know any different if it came to that. It was part of the reason for using the recipes he did. Looking to one of them he grinned, showing off his crooked, rum stained teeth. "Doc, get me sometin to drink aye? Yah'll want yer cook in his right mind." A raspy laugh came through and he patted his rum flask in the front of his vest. It still had a little, but he would rather a good full mug to start the day. "Naw you two," Pointing to Carlos and the fisher he continued, "Get some fish gutted for me. Me stomach is grumblin much as yers and more help I get the yer meal is done."
 
Alexis froze as the strong, howling winds slapped her now soaking wet hair into her face, the boat rocking violently from side to side. "The one time I decide to come up, the skies decide to go ahead and drop a goddamn bucket on us?" She grumbled, squinting up at the stormy clouds for a moment before trying to get back to the cabins. How did we even get in this storm? It was fine a little while ago, did we sail straight into it? She wondered.

Walking across a boat in the midst of a storm was much easier to think about doing than to actually do. In fact, apparently wet planks on boats were also a lot more slippery than she thought, and it didn't help that the wind continued to slap her own hair into her face. She ended up in the kitchen instead, but at least it was somewhere out of the rain. Someone she hadn't seen before seemed to be working on doing something, but she couldn't quite tell. She glanced over next to her and blinked in surprise as she saw three other men standing around, one of them looking just as soaked as she was. I should let someone else know I exist here, she thought, brushing a sopping wet stand of brown hair out of her face. Yeah, that'd be best. It'd be weird if I didn't talk to anyone anyway, she thought. "Hi," she said, leaning against a wall.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top