Post by thebountyhunter on Feb 13, 2013 9:05:37 GMT -5
It is a picturesque morning in Bilgewater harbor; the brilliant yellow sun crests softly over the rolling swells in the bay and peeks through the windows of Fortune’s Folly’s captain’s cabin. Sarah groans as she peels her silk blankets away, exposing herself to the new day. She groggily traipses over to her bureau and rummages through the drawers to pull out the clothes she will wear. The Bounty Hunter steps behind her wooden changing screen, even in the harbor, one could never be too careful of peeping toms. Removing her plain white nightshirt, she slips into a pair of skintight brown leather pants, similar to the ones she often wears on the Fields of Justice, buttons them and ties up a white midriff shirt, suitable for the promisingly warm day. Lastly, she laces her kneehigh boots and grabs her trusty pistols and clips the holsters to her waist. She checks her journal for any appointments she may have today, thankfully the page marked with today’s date is empty.
“Well, looks like it’s just you and me today,” she says with a smile to her corvette, which has been gently rolling in the morning tides, virtually unnoticed by the expert sailor. She stares out of the window at the morning sky and stretches, stealing one more tired yawn before making her way outside to face the dawn.
Her crew is on shore leave, and Fortune’s Folly is peacefully quiet. The harbors have yet to start with the everyday bustle of haggling merchants, squashbuckling pirates and any other inhabitants that paraded around the chaotic port. Now, there are only a few dedicated sailors, herself included, pacing around their ships making sure everything is in proper order. Her delicate fingers, which would never betray the amount of work she put into sailing due to her meticulous care of her physical appearance, traced themselves over countless ropes and wooden rails to seek any inconsistencies or damages to be found. The sail ropes, with the exception of one, were unfrayed and knotted correctly and a few of the rails needed sanding. Even a minor injury, a tiny splinter, could be deadly on a long voyage. She made mental notes to mark these imperfections in her journal and have them repaired before the next time Fortune’s Folly cast off.
The wind rustled through her scarlet waves, making them mimic the ocean’s own, and she instinctively reached for her precious tricorne, which belonged to her father before her. It was a family heirloom, said to bring luck on the seas, hence the origin of her surname, Fortune. She was rarely seen without it, but this morning her locks were bare, her headgear nowhere to be found.
She rushed back into her cabin to find it sitting on the mannequin head that acts as its perch when she isn’t wearing it. Snatching it off the wooden head, she flipped it stylishly and it landed square on her head. She giggled and winked, striking a pose with Awe in her right hand. Laughing to herself, she exited the cabin once more to continue her inspection of the ship.
Post by Lissandra Sparrow on Feb 16, 2013 23:52:13 GMT -5
Lissandra woke up.. having been thrown off the bed by the rocking boat.. she walked out onto the deck and stretched, straightening out her long, blonde hair. She blinked and rubbed her eye before climbing the stairs and strolled onto the main deck of the ship
"Hey captain." She said rather sleepily upon seeing Fortune, strolling over to stand beside her.
Post by thebountyhunter on Feb 17, 2013 15:14:16 GMT -5
Fortune’s Folly’s deck creaked in protest of the shifting tides below as the buxom red head strut from barrel to rope, checking various supplies and making mental notes to add to her ledger in her cabin. The sea air buffeted her scarlet waves as she danced along the deck at breakneck pace, her father’s hat grasping her scalp for dear life, praying it would not be swept away by the sea’s winds.
Unbeknownst to the busy captain, her slender blonde woman, Lissandra Sparrow, her first mate surfaced from her cabin below in the hold, and groggily made her way over to Sarah.
“Hey Captain,” came an unexpected voice, Miss Fortune’s racing mind screeched to a halt and she jumped at the surprise, her fingers eagerly reached for one of her pistols out of habit, but she did not draw it when she laid eyes on her first mate.
“Hello, Lissy,” she called her first mate, “You’re up early,” she added with a laugh, trying to cover up the startling reaction she’d had, “just doing some checks to see what we need on board, in case we have to set sail any time soon. Got any plans around Bilgewater today?” the captain asked, genuinely curious.
Post by Lissandra Sparrow on Feb 17, 2013 19:44:12 GMT -5
Lissandra only laughed when she noticed her Captains reaction. "Just tell me not to bother you, no need to shoot me." She said with a teasing tone. The beautiful blonde yawned and stretched, letting out a sigh of relief. Lissy then looked around, aiding in checking out the ship.
"Well.. couldn't really sleep when you're thrown around like a rag-doll." Lissy replied, placing her hands on her hips and smiling. Lissandra scanned the ship one more time with her good eye before looking back to Sarah.
"No.. not really, unless you just wanted to do something." Lissandra said, looking out at the sea
Post by Balthasar Blackboot on Feb 18, 2013 2:55:24 GMT -5
Thump, clank, plop. Thump, clank, plop. Thump, clank, plop. The sound came from downstairs, and no, it was not some horrible sea creature that had crawled into the ship - 'twas just Balthasar, who had been taking care of the cannons. He dusted them off, placed new gunpowder in them, and then loaded them with a cannonball. At high sea, a decent cannon and a good cannon could be the difference between life or death. The ship that shot first and hardest had a clear advantage from the get-go, and Balthasar always ensured said advantage was for his captain.
After he was finished, the man dusted the gunpowder off, tied his bandanna around his head, and then strapped his characteristic leather bag across his back. The leather bag, which usually contained cannonballs, was empty today.
The cannoneer made his way up to the deck with a smile plastered on his face. "Ahoy, lasses. We fresh outta grog, so ah'm gonna get us some. Ya two beauties want somth'n'?
Post by Lissandra Sparrow on Feb 18, 2013 3:18:24 GMT -5
Lissandra walked over and leaned on the side of the ship, letting out another sigh as the saltwater air blew through her hair and filled her nose with that all too familiar smell she loved so much. Her mind went back to her parents.. and that sigh of relief soon turned to sigh of sadness. "Least they're in a better place now.." Lissandra thought, trying to find a silver lightening the despair that was left in her heart.
Only did the voice of one of the other crew snap her from her thoughts. She turned her head to see Balthasar. Lissy raised an eye brow at the man and simply shook her head. "No.. I don't need anything right now.. thanks though." She replied turning her head back to the sea.
She then looked up as she remember something. "On second thought.." Lissandra said, walking over to the hulking man and handing him a small sack of gold. "If you could pick up some bolts for my crossbow, I'd appreciate it"
Post by thebountyhunter on Feb 18, 2013 12:11:04 GMT -5
Fortune smiles at her first mate, “I wouldn’t dream of shooting you, Lissy,” she adds jokingly with a wink, “if you stay out of my way.” She laughs at her own joke slightly. The warm sun and ocean air fuel her joyful mood this morning.
The captain giggles at Lissy’s response; to Sarah the rolling currents of the ocean are the gentle hands that rocked her to sleep every night she spent on her ship. She finds it hard to imagine that they could be responsible for waking someone up.
“Well, I don’t really have any plans either, but I’m sure we could come up with something,” she replies, her fingers flexing, trying to think of something they could do in the city, whether it be for fun or something else.
A loud racket from the depths of her ship’s hold clangs its way from below, it seems to rattle the whole ship as the tall, imposing cannoneer of Fortune’s Folly, Balthasar, appears topside. The burly cannoneer performs all the necessary maintenance on the cannons, something for which Miss Fortune is ever so grateful. He also helped with all of the heavy lifting and is the strong-arm of the group, she was lucky to have such a loyal friend and crewmate.
“No thanks, B.” she replied to him with a giggle at his compliment. She stopped for a second, the salty air tickling her nose, the smell of seafood and rum. Yes, rum. She forgot to check on her brewery last time she was in port, “actually,” she spoke up, “I think I may go into town too to check on Rapture, it’s been far too long since I paid that place a visit, I wanna see if we’re making any money there, since bounty hunting has been drier than low tide lately.”
She struts over to her cabin to get her ledger before leaving, stopping outside the door. She turns to her first mate, “Since we’re both going into town, Lissy, do you want to stay here and watch the ship or come with us?”
Last Edit: Feb 18, 2013 16:47:13 GMT -5 by thebountyhunter
Post by Lissandra Sparrow on Feb 18, 2013 17:12:06 GMT -5
Lissandra looked back her Captain, watching her go fetch her things, raising an eyebrow. The blonde looked around the ship at the remaining crew.. going about their usual duties. Lissy placed a hand on her hip and thought for a moment before shrugging when she was asked if she wanted to come along.
"Eh, what the hell." Lissy replied, heading back to her own cabin and returning with her cross bow on one hip, and a cutlass on the other. "Might as well go out somewhere"
Post by Balthasar Blackboot on Feb 18, 2013 17:43:21 GMT -5
The cannoneer returned the bag containing the gold to its owner while heartily chuckling. "Yarr! Settled, then." He then picked up three empty barrels - one of them he put inside his leather sack, the remaining two he carried each under one of his gargantuan arms.
Balthasar walked towards the edge of the ship, which caused it to shift ever so sightly. He then jumped off Fortune's Folly, which made the petite ship swing a few times to compensate for the weight loss; and the wooden dock creak and tremble when he landed on the floor. Knowing that Lissy and Fortune would have no trouble catching up to him, he started walking towards the town's heart.
Post by thebountyhunter on Feb 20, 2013 20:11:10 GMT -5
Miss Fortune giggled, excited at Lissy’s decision; it had been awhile since she had been to Bilgewater, far longer than Sarah. The Bounty Hunter rifles through her ledger to make sure she has everything she needs and struts around the ship for one last quick inspection for any necessities she may have missed. They were lacking in food, particularly citrus, which is instrumental to preventing scurvy. She made a mental note to pick up some oranges at the market.
“Kay.” she states happily, “Let’s go!” in a agile leap, she bounces off of the ship and lands in a graceful pose, clutching her book in one hand and holding her father’s hat on her head in the other. She begins to stride faster in order to catch up with her cannoneer, the blonde first mate trailing slightly behind them, now sporting her trademark crossbow and cutlass.
“Want me to carry those for you, sweetie?” she says jokingly to Balthasar, and laughs at her own joke. The trio merrily makes their way toward the hustle and bustle of Bilgewater’s town square. Shopkeeps, merchants and all manner of unsavory characters clamor around the busy city streets. The crowd creates a voracious racket in contrast to the peaceful harbor, which would have its turn with the noise once the sailors and traders got done in the market.
Post by scriptsthird on Feb 23, 2013 4:09:23 GMT -5
Bilgewater Market Square - Faust's Treasure Trove
Deep in the heart of the bustling marketplace, there was a little shop. It wasn't too easy on the eyes, having fallen into a state of disrepair as far as the residents could see from outside, but it was still surprisingly well-kept despite its state. It was part of a larger complex, comprised of two floors - the lower floor had been used for business, a humble little store that sold antiques which the proprietor had salvaged and dedicated himself to restoring, while the upper floor had been the living arrangement of the small family that no longer resided there.
The business, unfortunately, had been closed out, as the former owner and operator had died long ago. Nowadays it was simply a building that had been kept in the state it was in at the time of the elder Faust's death, though the exact location of the murder had been thoroughly cleaned. The memory of it still remained deeply planted in the mind of the sole surviving member of the family, the man who had eventually gone on to earn the moniker of Merchant of Death. The place got various odd and curious looks from passersby, as it was, but nobody dared step foot inside or even attempted to approach it. They had their suspicions as to who exactly it was that financed the preservation of such an otherwise unremarkable installation, and they would be right.
A clean, silken glove turned within its grasp a brilliant golden trinket - a pocket watch, which had been hand crafted by the hands of the owner of 'Faust's Treasure Trove'. The glove connected to a long gray sleeve of an overcoat, which in turn connected to a crimson waist coat and brown slacks. This was the left hand, as the right hand was adorned in a rather grim looking black gauntlet with amethyst accents, which seemed to radiate a malevolent aura; the latter firmly held the shaft of a cane which ended in a pearl-colored skull ornament. Striking violet eyes stared deeply, nostalgically, at the very spot that old man Faust had been found dead....
'Master....'The voice, deep and raspy, spoke to the solitary man from the confines of his own mind. The source of the sinister tone was the man's familiar, a creature to whom he'd sworn his soul in exchange for power.'You should cease coming to this place, it only holds misery for you...'The creature didn't speak out of concern for the man whom it was contracted to, merely it did not approve of these times during which the notorious arms dealer would brood and reminisce over irreversible events.
"My soul is yours upon my death," spoke the merchant, his voice tinged with venom at being interrupted in his revelry. "What does it matter to you what I do with my time?" His eyes never moved from that specific place on the wooden floor, where he had seen his beloved grandfather lifelessly lying in a pool of his own blood. He remembered the scene, the imagery, all too vividly. He remembered the horror, the disgust, and the wariness he had felt when he found his kin dead. Most of all, he remembered the parchment that the old man had been gripping tightly in his withered hand, as though it held far more value than his own life.
'Suit yourself.'
{{ Hope you don't mind me setting Faust up in your thread, Fortune! }}
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2013 4:15:14 GMT -5 by thebountyhunter
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