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7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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@Dark Light: On day 5 ^^ Need a post before your counter hits day 8
@mnkee: So there isn't a specific update for Sirena, since she's in "limbo" almost on actions. Tavern description is pretty much the same for the Twelve Daggers. Éd is gone but his men are still there. And of course, she can also try the King's Arm, the Faithful Bride, pretty much any of the taverns in Tortuga. If you have any questions, feel free to hit me up. ^^




@Nallore@BlueSky44@Dark Light@FantasyChic@mnkee
The Port of Tortuga: April 4th, 1719 - 1:30 PM Local Time


Harlianne James

Location: Main Deck of the Bellona - Port of Tortuga Docks


The brunette chuckled slightly at Harlianne's comments, before giving the blonde a bit of a look. It said it all right then and there to Harlianne, interesting the captain so much as to sit on the railing of her ship to get a better look at the pair of them. The longer she observed, the clearer the situation was. Her initial suspicions seemed to be confirmed--the blonde was some unfortunate member of the upper class, disgraced and defiled by the Frenchman.

"That's the chuffin' French for yer, luv. Can't trust them ter pull out," Harlianne said bluntly, picking at her nails as she attempted to remove some grime from underneath them. The shy noblewoman below turned as red as an apple at Harlianne's words, while her elder looked to be grimly in agreement with Harlianne.

"Miss, it's as we suspected," the brunette said, yet the younger woman wasn't listening. She was staring in shock and horror at one of the slave sales going on nearby. The horrible appearance of the man took the young woman's breath away, her eyes widening even more as she overheard Millicent's story. It was ghastly and awful and she turned to her minder at once.

"We are going to help!" the young woman said determinedly, taking her coin purse in her hand and marching over towards the slaver. The man had straight out laughed in Millicent's face, wiping away a tear before crudely informing her that he wasn't running a charity, that he was running a business and needed to turn a profit. As if to somehow emphasize his point, he gave Jon another good kick to the back.

"Come back when yer have some coin, lass," the captain said haughtily, turning abruptly to face the young blonde as soon as he heard the jingling of coins.

"I'll purchase him," the young woman said boldly, handing over easily double what the man was asking for. "This should suffice." The captain could hardly believe what was happening, but he didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and motioned for Jon to be released. Neither Jon nor Millicent would recognize the woman by appearance, given the lack of decent portraits in the day, but they would recognize her name.

"And who be ye, miss?" the captain asked, pocketing his profits.

"The Honorable Miss Alice Blackwood," the young blonde replied, her minder shaking her head slightly behind her. So much for privacy...


Aravis Zacharia

Location: the King's Arm - Port of Tortuga


The veins in the men's heads practically burst as Anastasia asked if she could join them. It was bad enough that she wanted them to join her crew--now she wanted them to play cards with her? Cards were games of chance and women were never good luck. No matter how they dressed or carried themselves. Hell, some even rumored that Teach had only been caught because he allowed a woman on his ship, and Calico Jack hadn't faired much better.

"Get lost, miss," one of the men sneered, holding onto his cards a bit tighter as if to make a point. The others weren't nearly so kind, replacing miss with just about every swear in the book. "Why not go sit with the other women, aye?" There was another round of cackling, before suddenly, one of them kicked Anastasia's chair out from underneath her. This, of course, merited another round of laughter.

"Pigs," Aravis sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment before returning her attention to Elissa. "The woman was recruiting--but those men don't look like ones I'd want to go to sea with." She kept an eye on Anastasia, with one hand on the hilt of her sword. If the men did one more thing, Aravis wouldn't hesitate to get into a brawl with them. Their actions disgusted her, to say the very least.

"They probably couldn't load a cannon to save their lives," Aravis added with a snort, recalling one story Elissa told her ages back about a certain crew member who somehow though it best to replace the powder with rum.


Édouard Riviere

Location: Misty Mire - Port of Tortuga


After he left the Twelve Daggers, Édouard hadn't quite felt like returning to his own ship and discussing the plans for the week with his men. They wouldn't be able to give him any useful input--he was in charge for a reason, after all! The notion that they could do any better, those men with foul and unimportant blood, was silly. They hadn't been able to snatch up the daughter of an English viscount for marriage, after all. Most of them married women of the night, women who were so stretched out as to give no more pleasure.

He pitied them, really. They would never know the true joys of conquest. And of course, most of them were gross and disfigured. None of them possessed his boyish good looks, his rugged sense of fashion, and his winning personality. Their association with him likely improved their mating prospects, even! He chuckled smugly to himself as he made his way to the outskirts of the Port Town, reaching the area known as the Misty Mire.

Its name was quite appropriate. A marshland filled with all sorts of nasty creatures, such as alligators and flytraps, not many dared to settle here. Shacks were put up on stilts and often left abandoned, after the inhabitants wizened up and moved to the main drag of Tortuga. Some of them were now inhabited by petty thieves, unable to find housing in town and unwilling to risk their lives in the jungle. A few of them kept supplies of booze hidden, yet not even alcohol had prompted Édouard to wander out into the marsh.

His feet sloshed slightly as he muddled on through, heading for the furthest stilted shack in the marsh. Sirena's line of questioning had only inspired more questions of Édouard's own, questions that he doubted Mr. Alucard would answer for him. After all, he was working against the man. He had no intention of giving him the flask--he intended to seize the flask for his own cause, for the betterment of La Fraternité du Sang and France itself.

No, he had another contact to speak with--an individual most on the island only sought out in the most dire of circumstances. And as stupid as he was, he hadn't told Sirena everything. He hadn't mentioned the witch's name to her, as he couldn't even understand the scroll himself. It was in French, yes, but that did not guarantee comprehension. It had been months since he even looked at the damn thing--long before he met the beautiful Sirena Ikaria.

"Sorcière!" Édouard called out, standing outside of the shack. "C'est moi, Édouard! C'est le chou!"
@Pundii: Day 5 :P




Location: The Fuddle-Verse (Teriny Inn)


Maeve's eyes snapped open, as she found herself in a luxurious country estate. The walls were a clean white, showing no signs of discoloration, a practically perfect paint job in each and every way. Gorgeous and undoubtedly expensive portraits decorated the walls, with the stern lady of the estate captured perfectly. Maeve found herself staring a bit, unnerved by the way the eyes appeared to follow her.

"Demented auld 'ag," Maeve muttered to herself, having not even realized that she was in a dream. She turned around as she felt a hand on her shoulder, only to be taken aback slightly as she spotted Calum. There was a bit of sugar on his cheek, suggesting that the man had been indulging himself recently. "What de 'ell do yer tink you're doin'?" Maeve hissed, grabbing the parson's arm to remove from her shoulder. But just as she touched the man's hand, he seemed to sprout and grow like a giant, growing larger and larger and larger until Maeve could hardly even see his eyes.

She took a step back, grabbing onto her shillelagh for support. Looking around the room, she attempted to look for an escape route, knowing that the parson was capable of knocking houses down with his clumsiness at a normal size when something odd struck her. Not only had the parson grown to a giant's height, but so had everything else in the estate! Or rather, she herself had shrunk.

"I'm de size av a bug," Maeve muttered, her heart beating rapidly. The parson's feet were almost wobbling as she looked at them in horror, knowing that with his track record, he'd squish her to death in just a few seconds. She was hardly any larger than a fly--why, she was practically an ant-man...or an ant-woman, rather. Darkness fell over her as the parson's foot blocked out some of the light, casting her into shadows, and Maeve took off sprinting towards a small hole in the wall. It looked to have been made by vermin, but she hardly cared.

"Ah lord save me from this lad," Maeve begged, doing the sign of the cross quickly with her free hand as she just barely managed to slide into the mouse hole, escaping the parson's foot. The sound of several crashes soon followed and she peeked her head out, only to see the entire estate engulfed in flames. The smoke was above her, thankfully, allowing the little ant-woman to breathe.

Maeve continued to watch, her eyes wide, as a bayonet appeared in the parson's hands. An exclamation of fuddle later and she felt the foundations of the burning estate shake, the portraits falling to the ground. Suddenly, the mouse hole she was hidden in had vanished entirely, leaving her in the middle of the room, right at the epicenter of the parson's chaos. He lurched forward. The bayonet fell down, heading right towards her and...

***
Maeve gasped, opening her eyes in her bed in the Teriny Inn. She ran her hands up and down her arms, assuring herself that she wasn't the size of a bug. The fiery catastrophe caused by the parson in her dreams hadn't happened in reality while she slept. Letting out a sigh of relief, she wondered if it was all the sugar before bed, causing her to have such odd dreams...


Cecily & Iris

Location: Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building


Marc's comment elicited a bit of anger in Cecily, though she kept it from outwardly showing. She was performing a job she was hardly qualified for, despite graduating college a year early. She only had a bachelor's degree, after all, and she never took any of the courses required for coroners. But yet, she was doing her best to perform her job and stick to protocol. That was one thing, thankfully, that hadn't changed. Managing a crime scene still went the same way: secure and isolate the scene, record the scene (notes, photos, videos, sketches), search for evidence, bag and tag evidence in a bindle, and maintain a chain of custody.

And while she had set the forensic techs on task at scene documentation and bagging and tagging, there were other tasks demanding her attention. She'd need to head to the administrative building to get those tapes, but she figured the FBI would probably end up seizing them for their investigation. She'd need to head to the morgue to go through the various procedures she could perform without Dr. Brinne--making notes on the state of the body, jotting down injuries, ruling the death as a homicide, and so forth. The orderlies had already been spoken with, but no other witnesses had been interviewed. The two other witnesses were busy with the kidnapping, after all.

"Yes, thank you Keystone," Cecily nodded, having warmed up to Keystone by now. Having become comfortable around Caesar, it was a shorter process for her to trust and feel comfortable around the British Hulk. "We'll need to swing by the administrative building before heading to the morgue, need to grab the security tapes," Cecily added. She'd need to eat something as well. It was getting late and if she was going to be working all night on closing the orderly's case, she couldn't be running on fumes.

"I can't release the originals, but I can make you some copies," Iris replied to Marc, after he asked if he could keep the documents or have copies made. She took the documents back from the agent, as it was a point of protocol. Even though the FBI Agent was investigating Cynthia's case, they still needed to keep their patient records. Especially if any internal investigation was going to happen. "Give me a moment," Iris then added, before hurrying to the nurse's station. There would be a copier nearby.

"If you need a statement, I'll be at either the scene, the administrative building, or the morgue," Cecily added to Agent Tinder. It'd be a late night and she needed to get this done, in order to get on the plane and head for Mexico the next day. But most of this was just following through protocol at this point. The detectives could take over, once she had given the orderly's death a ruling and finished with the evidence. But with the witnesses to the crime and the tapes, not much forensics were really needed.

Cecily then made her way towards the scene of the murder, the original crime scene at the asylum, hoping that the forensic techs were just about done. Her stomach growled slightly in agreement. And almost just after Cecily left with Caesar and Keystone, Iris made her way back to Agent Tinder, with copies of Cynthia's file clutched in her hands. As she handed the papers over to Agent Tinder, they were still hot.

"All yours."


Dorothy Pender

Location: Cargo Bay


A smile graced Dorothy's grace as she continued checking the crew's packed items. While there were some little mistakes, none were intentional and took a careful eye. If she hadn't formerly been with the Alliance, even she could have missed a couple of them. No one was intentionally out to spite or disobey the captain, a definite plus with the ragtag crew they had assembled. Not all of them had been with them on the Vengeance and easily could have carried grudges for what happened on Whitefall. They had lost not just their captain, after all, but their ship and perhaps even their dignity.

She removed the little mistakes, muttering a slight bit of thanks underneath her breath. She needed things to go well--hell, the entire crew needed things to go well. They were in a stolen Alliance vessel, after all. They were bound to attract attention until they got off the gorrham ship and into the new vessel. Hopefully with her sister receiving a just and fair punishment, without too much of a scene, in the process.

And while Dorothy could hear Jahosafat and Foy's conversation, she tried her best not to pry. She was already going through personal possessions and belongings, after all. Much more and she'd feel almost like a spy, examining each and every member of the crew. She nodded slightly at the two men as she passed by them, checking as discretely as she could through the remainder of the items packed away. Anisa had asked her to load items into the holding dock that was rented once the check was done and Dorothy had nearly finished. Of course, she'd need to recruit a few more hands to move things.

Still no sign of Daphne. Ta ma duh. Her eyes glanced up towards Foy and Jahosafat. The two of them were standing in the cargo bay and chatting, perhaps they'd be able to help her move things to the holding dock.


Fitz Townsley

Location: Town


Fitz was trying his best to stay cool, but he was becoming hyper aware of everything going on. Each breath he took seemed to him either too big or too small, as if Daphne would judge him for his breathing patterns. He couldn't remember what to do with his hands, trying to look casual and relaxed, but putting so much effort into that did the exact opposite. Little twitches and ticks came out from his nervousness, no matter how much he tried to relax and calm himself down. Daphne's smile did seem to help slightly, but it didn't solve his fidgety and restless behavior, as he continued to focus so hard on acting normal and interacting in a socially acceptable manner that he simply couldn't.

"R-right, sorry, Daphne," Fitz apologized, apologizing for his constant apologies. "W-would you know any ships looking for p-passengers or engineers? I'm tr-trying to get out, see the 'verse and all..." He smiled timidly at her. Despite knocking into her, she easily seemed to be one of the more approachable people on Newhope. If his stuttering seemed bad with the kind and patient seeming Daphne, it would've been much worse with a rougher personality. He might even melt into a puddle.

He scratched his neck a bit, feeling a slight itch. He didn't expect that Daphne's ship herself would have openings--that would be too lucky. But pilots knew other pilots, right? Maybe she'd have an idea of where he should go to look.
Oh it'll be a fuddle alright. Got the basics already thought up :p
@Lady Amalthea Maaaaaaaybe :P
@Lady Amalthea I'll come up with a weird ass dream for Maeve to have ^^
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