Recap

[Alzella]

Dot, dot, dot.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Here, Alze, want me to post my stuff so they don't get confused as to who I play, da?

[Alzella]

Oh, I would love it if you did Yami! It would also make this insanely easier! Seeing as I'm too lazy to post more than my own posts.

[Alzella]

I love our OOC talk (on RotSS), but I'm skipping it to conserve energy.

[C H E Y E N N E]

You did post two of my posts, though--remember, I roleplay Matthews and Cenhelm and... a variety of other minor characters? xD
Why don't you take a break and we do this tomorrow, da?

[Alzella]

Mmm~ okay.
*deletes all the posts they did* *reposts their first one* There, fixed! ;D

[Alzella]

Ellsworth leaned against the wood railing, looking out at the vast sea. It was a perfect day by seaman standards: sunny, clear, not a cloud in the sky. Closing his eyes, he welcomed the salty scent, the near violent ripple of wind, the sway of the ship, the—
“Loki!”
Ellsworth nearly toppled into the ocean, Leif’s deft arm the only thing saving him. Ellsworth felt a tick mark form as Leif spoke French.
“I can see you’re not completely with us today. I know how much you love daydreaming about me, but perhaps we could keep it to a minimal for the safety and wellbeing of the crew?”
Ellsworth didn’t understand a word and for the thousandth time he wished he knew enough of French to insult the ass. Instead, he could only retort in Spanish.
“Whenever you’re ready to let go of my butt, Captain.”
Technically, Leif held Ellsworth by the belt, but Ellsworth chose to ignore the minor detail.
“You’re undermining my wonderful authority, Loki, and daydreaming my death to boot. I would very much appreciate it if such wasted time was used to find our next treasure—”
“Boat.” Ellsworth commented.
Leif halted mid-rant. “No, I don’t want a boot.”
“Captain, luxury ship off the starboard side. Requesting permission to board.”
Leif paused. Ellsworth took the moment to physically remove Leif’s hand from his belt and get a safe distance away from the railing. Almost thoughtfully, Leif rummaged in his coat to find a telescope. He zoomed in on the distant – and closing – ship.
“Well what do you know,” Leif murmured, “Treasure has come to us.”
Ellsworth prepared himself for the inevitable order.
“Crew! We attack at—Loki, is it noon yet?”
“…” Ellsworth waited two minutes, “Yes Captain, it is.”
“We attack at noon! That means now!” Leif repeated this in French, seeing as some of the crew spoke only French.

[C H E Y E N N E]

"Captain, your stupidity simply astounds me. Why would they approach us if they didn't mean to board?" The strong breeze ruffled the sails above them as the schooner cut its way through the waves of the ocean, spraying salty droplets of water both over the deck and the people on board. Farther ahead, near the bow, stood a man with pale blonde hair--so light that people often just said "white" and that was it. His longer dark coat swirled around his feet, and he reached up to quickly tie his aforementioned hair into a loose ponytail. His back was turned and his hands remained clasped behind his back as a wry smile tugged on his lips. Behind him were two other men, one older and one younger.
The two were currently fighting over a gold-inlaid telescope, the younger one spewing profanities and other various insults as the older one huffed and tried to yank the spyglass away.
"They're flying our colors, young Lord," the older man hissed, his cheeks puffing red. "We have no reason to fear them."
"What reason would they have to approach us, then?" The younger man's hair was dark and shaggy, and it fell across his eyes as he lowered his head angrily, eyes sparking. Cenhelm Dagur, first mate of Hinrik Kolur's ship the Queen Mary, was noticeably pissed. "If they were on our side, then they would go about their business, right?"
The rather incensed man he was fighting with didn't respond. Instead, Hinrik Kolur, Captain, wrenched the telescope from his young cousin's hands, smirking as he fell to the deck with a thump. From up at the bow, the white-haired man, all of twenty-one years, flinched.
But Cenhelm had been doomed to lose from the beginning, anyway.
Sighing as Cenhelm screamed something along the lines of stupidity, Frey Matthews brought his hands up to his temples before quickly thrusting them down at his side. Decision made, he glided over to where Cenhelm was still huffing on the ground before offering a hand with one raised eyebrow.
"Don't rub it in, mate," Cenhelm said in forlorn Spanish. Matthews allowed a small smile to flicker across his face.
"I wouldn't." He then inclined his head, looking towards the door that led to the Captain's cabin. "Your cousin asked me to rearranged his office again. I could use some help."
Cenhelm grinned, seeing the offer for what it was. "He lost all the medicines?"
"What gave you that idea?"
Matthews watched as Cenhelm rolled his eyes before laughing. "Come on, it'll stop you from committing mutiny, at the very least."
Cenhelm sighed as he watched Hinrik watching the other Spanish ship.
"All right," he said at last. "But you owe me."

[Alzella]

Leif grinned wickedly as the ship made no move to, well, move. It just sat there like a nice little sitting duck.
“Captain, you’re scaring the crew again.” Ellsworth lightly remarked. Leif scowled, mock-hurt.
“You wound me, my dear member of said ‘crew.’ Crew! Do I frighten you?” Leif barked. Immediate response:
“Yes, M’Lord!”
Ellsworth grinned, but said nothing. Leif decided not to comment further on the matter.
(I’ve decided Chloelia will be the Quartermaster, so yes she is on the ship.)
“Leif,” Chloelia’s voice, speaking Latin, drew Leif’s immediate attention.
“Hm?”
“I think that ships—”
“We’re close enough to board, Captain!” A crewmember announced, various others already prepared with the planks and rope.
“Then board, Crew, we don’t have all day. The faster we move, the quicker the surrender! Attack!” Leif turned to Chloelia after waving a violin bow in the air. “You were saying?”
“It has a nobleman’s flag. Our flag.” Her soothing voice, completely calm and nonchalant, if it were a spear, would’ve killed Leif.
The crew surged for the unsuspecting vessel, Queen Mary, with the full intent of capture. Ellsworth surged with them, being a crewmember, using one of the hanging ropes to swing safely across. Upon landing, he immediately drew his sword.
The Captain, Leif Ó Nualláin, of the still unnamed vessel felt a slight migraine coming on. His mind raced quickly with a plausible explanation to the “misunderstanding.” Ó Nualláin was a Noble Family known best in France, but Leif had no idea where the name might have traveled – and currently he sailed a ship with a Spanish flag.
An idea dawned upon him. Leif, the oddball of the Ó Nualláin Noble Family, greeted fellow ships by “attacking” them and inviting them for the experience of a lifetime aboard the Ó Nualláin’s only nameless vessel!
Yes, Leif was still having issues getting Bloody Murderer passed by his father. For some reason, his father had the delusion that it would “frighten other ships” and give the Ó Nualláin name a “bad reputation.”
Psh to it all!
“Tell me when they surrender. I will be in my cabin preparing.” Leif swept off to said cabin. In his wake, Chloelia murmured in Latin.
“You mean: changing.”
Leif had a tendency to go overboard with the pirate clothing.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Matthews let out a stunned yelp as the ship suddenly rocked, causing him to stumble and fall back into an adjoining cabin--his own--and straight into on of his shelves, which was currently filled with glass bottles. He let out a disbelieving hiss as three or four of the bottles tumbled onto the floor, shattering and spilling their contents almost immediately. On his desk his navigational instruments trembled lightly, but they stayed on the table, undisturbed.
Back in the main cabin, Cenhelm had managed to hold himself upright by clutching onto a globe, and was currently trying to stop himself from laughing. His pistol, which had been holstered at his side, was immediately whipped out as the Dagur heir inched over to the shut door of the cabin. He raised the pistol in the air, holding it by the barrel. He intended to use it as a quick but effective club.
Matthews, still stunned from the fall, stared at the pooling liquid. "I paid thirteen pesetas for that!" He cursed. Cenhelm chuckled from his spot by the door.

On the deck, Hinrik was watching everything with the expression of someone who had been clubbed in the stomach by an angry Cenhelm or sea fury. "What is the meaning of this?!" He boomed, trying to puff up his chest in an effort to remain in control and Captain-like. "I order you off my ship immediately, pirates!" He continued, ignoring his crew as they clashed blades with the invaders.

[Alzella]

Ellsworth clashed with a random crewmember. He hated this part. He hated fighting. What if he hurt someone? Ellsworth chose not the think about it, pulling the sword out of his opponent. His sea blue-green orbs deftly trailed across the deck, noting how Queen Mary fought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man – seemingly the Captain – order the attackers off the ship. Ellsworth had to laugh at that.
A sword nearly speared him; another crewmember’s flying body hitting the attacker being the only stop. Ellsworth decided now was not a good time to laugh. He went straight for the Captain – fastest way to secure a surrender – and held his sword to his throat.
“Surrender now and no one gets hurt.”
A random crewmember dropped beside him, side bloody. Ellsworth didn’t move, didn’t let his eyes so much as get a glimpse of the blood, focusing solely, fiercely, intently, on the supposed Captain.
“No one else gets hurt.”

Chloelia watched idly from the nameless ship, her legs dangling over the side of the railing as she seated herself comfortably on it. This ship did not seem like it belonged to a nobleman, she thought. Perhaps she was too hasty in frightening Leif? Ah well, no harm no foul. Except to those wounded.
Chloelia pulled off her hat to reveal Mr. Fox, the rat, in all his furry glory. He sat up, chattering angrily at being awoke, to see what he had been forced into the daylight for.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Hinrik sputted, but his eyes were wide and looking like they were trying to jump out of his head and flee the scene. "You can't do this! Do you know who I am? I am Hinrik Kolur, relative of the Dagur family!" He squealed, almost like a pig, and his face was turning bright red as he brow became wet with the product of his trepidation. But he saw the carnage of his crew around him, and once again he enemy's sword caught his eye. "Don't hurt me," he tried then, gulping audibly. "Don't hurt me, and you can have the ship!"

"I wonder what's happening," Cenhelm whispered as Matthews picked himself off the floor, white hair falling across his face and over his eyes lightly, shadowing his face as he moved to steady and ensure the remaining medicines were going to stay put. That meant closing the cabinet that contained them before exhaling lightly, his eyes shutting.
"We need to stay here," he said then. "Grab what we can; hide the rest." He had started rolling up the navigational chart as he spoke, slender hands shaking lightly as Cenhelm tossed his head in the other direction, eyes scanning the richly decorated cabin of his rather pompous cousin.
"Sweet. I've always wanted a pair of silk undergarments."
"You have a trunk full of them back at your mansion, idiot!"
"Yeah, but these ones are big enough to hold my--"
"Enough! Please, I'd rather not know."
"I was going to say--"
"Cenhelm!"
"What do you have against pistols, anyway?"
"..." Matthews gave his friend a withering glare as his body stilled. "Go fuck yourself."
"Only if you help me."
The compass only missed his head by two centimetres.

[Alzella]

Ellsworth nodded briefly. Waving his sword languidly through the air, Ellsworth relaxed just a fraction.
“Queen Mary has surrender. All crew belonging to her shall not be harmed. You will move yourselves to the port side of the ship.” The words came automatically, familiar and comforting in their familiarity.
Taking care not to look anywhere but straight ahead – he really hated the fighting part, did he mention that already? – Ellsworth walked back across the plank towards Chloelia. Belatedly, he noticed Leif appear dressed in casual, yet well-made and overtly decorative, nobleman clothing.
“What happened to him?” He didn’t expect a response from Chloelia, one rarely got one, and if any not one he would understand. Ellsworth’s expectations were not disappointed. Chloelia did not answer.
Leif waltzed over.
“They surrendered?”
“Of course. We’re pira—”
“I would not be so hasty in rushing to conclusions. We are of peace, are we not?” Leif smoothly incurred. Ellsworth gave him a weird look.
“Uh, yeeesss?” He answered unsurely. If Leif meant that the Queen Mary crew would not be harmed, sure. If not, what? Chloelia choose that moment to speak, for once in Spanish.
“The scared man. Noble, yes?”
“No.” Ellsworth answered, noting a sudden change in Leif’s demeanor, albeit minor. “Claims he is related to the Dagur family, though.”
Chloelia put her hat back on, hiding Mr. Fox. She gave a slight nod to Leif, which Ellsworth understood, from experience, to mean her admitting a wrong, and then flounced off into the cabin.
Leif sighed. “And here I am without my hat.”
Ellsworth quirked a brow. “Well, Captain, you’re certainly not underdressed.”
“Look!” Leif snapped a finger towards Queen Mary, “Blood!”
Ellsworth nearly followed the movement, but jerked and halted at the last moment. He hissed an unintelligible English insult, one of the few words he knew, before swerving and –not– stomping across the plank. Leif grinned.
Sauntering over and boarding Queen Mary, Leif inclined his head just barely to the Captain.
“I understand you have a doctor aboard?” He immediately asked, carefully implying he already knew they did. He didn’t know, but asking outright if they had one at all usually led to no doctor being supplied. Subtly, Leif surveyed the damage done to both his crew and Queen Mary. Only two, thankfully, of his had been wounded: one a mere flesh wound on the arm, the other lost a pinky. He held it in the opposite hand.
Ellsworth avoided the deck, blood, and people. He went on into the cabin, sword held loosely in hand, to see what the ship might hold.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Cenhelm had turned to watch Matthews. His friend was slumped over his head, mumbling something unintelligible, and the younger Dagur's brow creased in a small frown. "Matthews, come on, we need to get out of here before--" he gave a start as the door to the cabin jostled, as if someone was turning the handle, and his mind flew into a panic. He turned the safety on his pistol off, eyes narrowing.
"Matthews," he hissed. "Someone's coming in."
He saw Matthews stiffen. They had, quite obviously, heard the sounds of combat, but they still didn't know who had won the battle.
"Identify yourself!" Cenhelm snarled. "Or I'll blow your goddamned brains out as soon as you step through that door!"

Hinrik watched, still livid as his crew obeyed the pirates' command, their eyes either filled with fear, malice, or a mixture of both. When the pirate who had threatened him moved to the cabin, however, his eyes mimicked the saucers he often liked taking his tea on. He had sent Matthews and Cenhelm down there! Well, to hell with Cenhelm, but he couldn't lose his treasures, his dignity, and his ship's doctor in more than one day! "See here, sir, I don't think--" he started, just as one of the pirates held a blade to his neck and directed him to the port, effectively cutting off his speech.

[Alzella]

Ellsworth froze at the door. He’d heard the sound of a pistol’s safety clicking off. Ellsworth did not feel like getting shot today.
“Queen Mary surrendered. I suggest you do the same.” Out of the crack of the door, he could see a medicine cabinet. Ah, perfect! “A doctor is needed above.” Ellsworth added, “Queen Mary has some injured.”

Leif did not like being ignored. Shooing the crewmember away, Leif dragged the frightened Captain back.
“I understand your feeble mind is incapable of conjuring the simplest of thoughts, but I assure you, even you are capable of answering this question: Is. Your. Doctor. Dead?” Leif paused to let the words sink in, “And if he is, rest assured, he will not wait long for your dear company.”