The official Pirate RP

[Ikkin]

((Long post, since I'd been inactive for a family trip))

While the rest of the crew seemed to have gone off to the inns, Ikkin decided to look in to see what the local merchants had to sell. The only thing she really wanted was a new cutlass (the lack of range of her dagger was rather disconcerting, she found, as compared to her old broadsword from her time in Meridell), but she figured she'd take a look around while she was searching for the blacksmith.

The variety of items was certainly interesting, if not the kind of thing that Ikkin would buy. Jewelry and clothing were nice to look at, but they were much too expensive for one on a tight budget. She didn't really have the luxury for looking too long, though, since the local merchants knew the kind of people who came to the island weren't the type one should trust around shiny or expensive items. So, while Ikkin was looking at a nice (and fairly inexpensive) amethyst necklace, the Brown Aisha shopkeeper confronted her about it.

"Ye know, if yer not goin' ta buy nothin', I'd prefer if ye'd step away from the merchandise. Not good policy to let anyone size up yer shop- good way ter get robbed, y'see? And ye have the look of a pirate about ye'..." the Aisha said.

Ikkin took a step backwards. Best to keep low and not make a scene, she thought. Besides, she had that sword business to attend to.

She soon found that there was only one blacksmith in the area that seemed likely to do a respectable job- even if he was an insufferable pig.

"What, more ladies?" he called as she entered. "Yeh'd think there was a convention of Amazons going on, or something." He laughed at his own joke, which only made Ikkin want to smack him even more. But he was the only one who could make her a new sword, so she'd have to put up with him. Not that that made him much more tolerable. "Buisiness is business," he continued, "even if it's to a couple'a girls who're playin' pirate." Ikkin growled, but resolved herself to order a sword anyway.

"Look, no one's playing here. I want a sword, and you seem to be the only one in this town who can provide one to my standards. I'm going to pay for your services." Ikkin put her doubloon down on the table. "Who I am shouldn't concern you in the least. Now are you willing to make me a cutlass or not?"

"Gold is gold," he said. "Even if it comes from the hands of a girl."

"Well, if we have that settled, I expect my cutlass finished by the time I come back tomorrow morning. I expect it to be as fine a weapon as you can make it, and for it to be curved properly to attack while drawing," she said, unsheathing her dagger and stabbing it into the table near his hand. He pulled back sharply, looking far less confident than he had.

"A picky one, are ye? Perhaps ye should pay extra for that, hmm, lassy? A tip for dealing with ye, per'aps?"

"I'll give you a tip," Ikkin said coldly, taking her dagger back from the table. "You'd have a lot more customers if you weren't such a chauvinist pig." And with that, she walked out the door. She knew she'd get her cutlass- the blacksmith didn't seem the type to risk unsatisfactory service, both for the sake of his business and his neck.

Looking at her purse, Ikkin sighed. Thirteen reals... while it was much more than she started with, she didn't want to be wasting it. So, she decided that she could stand a night at less satisfactory lodgings, and made her way over to the Purple Pawkeet, which, she noted, seemed to be the choice of most of her shipmates. Noticing a commotion of some sorts near the east wall, she made her way over to the inn quickly.

[Komori]

((Aw, Huntress is too soft to kill the Tonu. ;D ))

Komori sat herself on a stool at the bar. "Gimme the best ale ye've got," she told the barkeep, "In the biggest mug ye 'ave." Her stomache was still a bit sour, but a beer ought to cure that right up.

The bartender, a grizzled old Kyrii, regarded the Korbat with amusement. "That mug be bigger'n yer head, lass," he laughed.

She smiled politely at the old man. "Well, then this place be better'n I thought." She placed six reals on the counter.

[Huntress]

((Nah, Huntress just doesn't like killing off perfectly good, as in well-developed characters who can make a nice vengeful comeback sometime later. 'Sides, now he has rabies. Worse than a Ghost paintjob if you ask me x3))

Bob jumped down on the table and shouted over the bar: "Hey, get a mug of rum over here while you're at..."

Huntress smacked him and brushed him off the table. Several heads turned, trying to spot the source of the odd little voice. The girl glared back at them. The customers turned away again, deciding that they had had too much to drink by now. Sometimes it's better to think that way rather than to get oneself in some weird trouble.

"A mug o' rum," Huntress said, catching the gaze of the bartender across the room. "And make it fresh."

The Kyrii nodded, turning around. "In a sec, missy, but ye'll have to come get it yerself. We don't have any of 'em fancy waiters."

The girl nodded back and glanced at Bloody Mary, lowering her voice. "Yer sayin' that the ship we saw out thar was the Meteor?"

"Possibly," the meepit shrugged. "How many ghost ships can they have around here? Remind me to buy a tourist guide in the morning and check."

Bob climbed back up onto the table. "Might as well ask the Cap'n in the morning and check," he remarked grimly. "Where's that rum?"

[Tam]

Her eyes watering from the stench of cigar smoke and the sweaty, drunken louts that clung to the bar tables like barnacles to the hull of a ship, Tamia settled herself onto a stool beside the pirates she now knew as Huntress and Komori. It was quieter in here than she had expected, given the commotion that had obviously just occured outside the inn.

She glanced at her two new crewmates with a hint of amusement. "Is that what you do when you reach land? Drink?"

Her hand self-consciously strayed to her coin pouch, hidden beneath the thigh length dusky-coloured vest she wore over her other clothes. She had only 5 reals with her, and three of those were spent already if she wanted to sleep under a roof that night. But she didn't want to miss out on learning more about the Weewoo's crew, so reluctantly, she brought out a single real.

Trying to look as relaxed as she could, she slid it across the counter to the Kyrii. "However much rum that gets me," she mumbled.

"Suit yerself, lass," the Kyrii chortled, taking the real and turning away.

It was at that moment that another pocket on her belt decided to squirm. Heart pounding, she realized that she had left the flap covering the pouches open, and before she could do so much as twist around, she felt a small weight drop from the open pocket.

"Chrr." the small animal trilled, silvery wings pulling herself out of the fall. Without a backward glance, Opal the truffle began to weave her way between the legs of the two pirates next to her. She grit her teeth frantically and hissed at the retreating truffle, but cocking her head and sniffing the air, Opal already seemed distracted by something. With a sinking feeling, Tamia guessed the troublesome creature had scented Huntress's meepits.

[nttryingtogetin]

Amy hurried after the others, and reached into her pouch, only to find nothing. Amy stared down worridley as her finger poked through a hole at the bottom of the pouch - it seemed all her money had fallen out of there. A feeling of dread washed over her, she had no money... However, Amy felt small part of bread that had wedged in the hole. It could've stopped some reals from falling out! Rummaging around the pouch again, Amy's finger slipped across the surface of something... It was a real! It was only one, but it could get her something. Maybe she could trade the bread for some rum, too.

Ambling up to the bar, Amy perched on a bar stool, drawing squiggles with the point of her sharp nails (which were painted scarlet, but slightly chipped) in the ash spilt from the ash trays nearby. Amy took out the bread and the single real and cleared her throat. The Kyrii turned around, giving her a glance before making his way over.

"How much rum would ye give me for these items?" she said, her tounge running over her dry lips, which were yerning for much needed rum. She placed down the real and the small slice of bread. The Kyrii clicked his tounge and scratched his head before saying, "Well, lass, you could have a small amount of rum for the real, but I could add a bit more for the bread?" he questioned her. The girl nodded eagerly and then scraped her dirty blond hair behind her ear and the Kyrii took her bread and real and began to fill a glass with rum. He filled the glass quickly and gave it to her and Amy sipped it quietly, savouring every drop.

[Kengplant]

Afer a week of vacation at a cottage and over an hour of reading through all the posts in this thread she had missed durring that time, Keng finally got off the ship. Scallywag rested on her left shoulder which she kept padded to pretect from the bird's claws. She looked at her currecnt cutlass and noticed that at the handel the blade was begginging to rust off. She was, like her crewmates, due for a new one. So she set off to find the blacksmith.

She had just barefly entered the town's center when she heard the startled yipp of a xweetox. It was standing right beside her and was holding a bleeding paw with a familiar bite mark on it. That of scallywag. And it was quite fresh. "That should teach ya to be pickin me pockets. Now get outa here." she snarled at the blue pet. Some of her underlying wolf showed in the tone of her voice. And with a face, angry of having been caught, the zweetox ran off. "Thanks mate." she said to her bird rubbing it affectionately. "I'll be sure to buy ye some fresh meat fer that."

She continued walking from there and soon found the blaksmith's shop. She walked in, unprepared for the rude smithy.

"Oh, fer cryin out loud! Not another one of ye girlies!" he exclaimed exasperated when he saw her enter. "I suppose ye'll be wantin a cutlass ready by mornin too? Seriously, you all trying ter make an army to invade scervy island or somethin? Well I'm afraid I can't be makin ye one. Ye'd be me 6th order tonight. All of em fer mornin. I haven't got that much time. I've gotta sleep too ye know!"

Keng was stunned at first and was quite, but only for a short moment. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to make one meself. I'll tell ye what snorkle brain, I'll give ye a dubloon and a few reels fer the use o' yer tools and matetrials and make one myself. Ye've got enough extras and enough space. It should only take me two hours at the very most, but more likely less time than 'at. I'll leave the blade overnight ter cool and pick it up in the morn."

The blaksmith was partly outrage and partly stunned. This was the 4th girl to of insulted him that night. But either way, it was still good money and he didn't have to do anywork! "Fine than missy, ye've got yerself a deal. Just don' come cryin ter me if ye can't life the mallet."

"Oh, don't worry about that, I think I'll be fine." She than handed him the money and set to work. She had a friend who was a blacksmith who had taught her a few things about hammering metal into swords and it was something she quite enjoyed from time to time. She preffered making her own weapons anyway.

[Huntress]

((Poor blacksmith x3))

Huntress, who had spent the last few minutes staring at other customers, partly because she had nothing else to do and partly to prevent them from staring at her, leaned forward to look at something small and blue hurrying over the floor. It jumped into the air, whizzed past a surprised Kacheek's ear and landed on the counter, turning out to be Santa the rabid meepit carrying two and a half golden coins.

"All I managed to grab before the people got the rest," she said, pushing the reals over to Amy. "One guy with a pegleg and a linen blue shirt has rabies now, you might wanna avoid him in the future."

Huntress got up and went to the counter, seeing that the bartender had filled her mug with rum. "Thanks matey... mind yer own business and stop starin' at me meepit, will ya? Santa, why do I see half a coin here?"

The meepit grinned sheepisly. "It seemed so tasty..."

The girl rubbed her forehead, sighed and took the mug back to the table where the other two meepits were already curiously gazing at Tamia's little pet.

"Is it edible?" Bob asked. "Haven't had anything to eat since Joe's n00b grog."

"Not much of a n00b grog if you ask me," Bloody Mary agreed. "Joe "Editor" Chef, my butt."

"More of an editor than a chef," the other one grumbled. "Writers..."

"Dive in an' stop complainin'," Huntress suggested, putting the mug down. As the meepits invaded it, the girl took the flat bottle from her belt, uncorked it and took a swig. Then she glanced at Tamia with vague amusement.

"What else should we do when we reach land 'sides drink? True, I sometimes go shoppin' fer clothes if mine get worn out or if goin' to colder places... but generally the sea is far more interesting." She offered the bottle to the co-pirate. "Green tea?"

((Ooh, are we reaching long posts or what?))

[Zylaa]

The weasel continued to glare at her crewmates with moral superiority wrapped around her like a coat.
"Can I get ye something to drink, lass?" the Kyrii said hopefully.
"No thank you," she snapped, though she didn't dare do anything more among all these burly ruffians.

[Deleted]

Pam walked into the tavern and looked around. A few old men were sitting staring into their mugs but they didn't interest her. A meepit ran past her clutching gold in his mouth, but just as she was about to go after it, the raised voices at the bar caught her attention.

"That's more like it," she thought. She made her way over there and ordered a mug of rum from the Kyrii behind the bar. Flicking her payment over to him, she asked; "Know of any ships leavin' here soon that don't ask no questions 'bout ye an' are lookin' for crew?"

[Rider]

The Kyrii shook his head. "Nay, these ships be careful 'bout who they bring aboard. These waters be not friendly, an' the Meridell Royal Navy be steppin' up thier efforts ter catch pirates."

[glow=red,2,300]((Pam, you can still react to that, but I'm going to the next day.))[/glow]

"Everyone all rested?" Rider asks cheerily, eating breakfact in the tavern. Apparently the cap'n is a morning person.

"By the way," she adds, "There's been a bit of a change in plans. We're heading to Geraptiku. I want to be there before noon."

[Huntress]

((Something tells me that we don't have many pirates left here anymore but hey, there's still a gigantic gang of meepits if all else fails... x3))

Huntress, quietly sipping her green tea by the same table, gave her a short half-amused, half-sarcastic glance. "I'm ready to go, Cap'n, but ye'll prolly have to find me a bag first to put those lil buddies o' mine in..."

The three meepits were leaning against each other on the table, all blankly staring at a random point in thin air, hiccuping every now and then and generally looking like three miserable blue little pieces of wet sponge.

"Once you're getting a bag, get me one of those small paper ones, I think I'm gonna hurl," Bloody Mary mumbled through his paw.

Bob made a sound that reminded of a sheep suffering from diarrhoea. "I don't feel so good..."

Santa was just being very, very quiet and squeaking "Mud!" every now and then for some unknown reason. The girl glanced at them with a scowl and sighed.

"I've seen few things more pathetic than a meepit with hangover," she remarked. "Why Geraptiku all of a sudden?"

((*is so gonna make a banner with those meepits when she gets the chance* xD))

[Deleted]

When Pam came down to breakfast she noticed a group of people...pirates, she corrected herself... sitting at a table with some ill-looking Meepits. Thinking they may be the answer to her search for a ship, she took a seat at the next table - close enough to hear the conversation but not so close they would know that was her intention.

As the serving wench brought over her food one of the meepits wobbled over to her, sniffed her food, and promptly threw up all over her plate. Jumping up, she picked up the offending meepit on one hand, drew her daggar in the other and stalked over to the pirates.

"Yer blasted meepit just spilled his guts on me breakfast!" she told them angrily, dropping the queazy meepit in the middle of the table.

[Ikkin]

Ikkin sat at the table, picking at her breakfast. She was still a bit tired- unlike Rider, she wasn't a morning person- but she knew she had to be ready early. Rider wanted to leave by noon, and Ikkin still had to pick up her new cutlass from that chauvenistic blacksmith.

Noticing the hung-over Meepits, she decided that it would be better if she ate quickly and left the tavern before she lost either her appetite or her breakfast. She passed the serving wench a real on her way out, even though she thought that the breakfast was way overpriced, and took to the air so she could get to the blacksmith as quickly as possible.

Flying was always wonderful, and Ikkin no longer wished she was still in bed by the time she landed in front of the blacksmith's door. She greeted him as cheerfully as she could while inwardly smirking at his shocked expression. Apparantly, he'd seen her land. She noted the cutlasses he'd laid out on a table, and asked which was hers.

The blacksmith went over and picked up the one in the middle of the table and handed it to her. He didn't seem able to resist his chauvenistic urges, however. "Here you go, little girl," he said. "Don't see what you need it for, though."

Ikkin took hold of her new cutlass and did a few tests, noting that the balance of the sword was almost perfect, and that the blade was as sharp as one could expect. "Why would a girl need a sword?" she asked with a smirk. "Because of men like you, of course. Though, I must say, I'm impressed with your work, so I'll let you off easy."

She placed the sword in her belt and walked to the door, pausing before walking out entirely. "I can't say it's been a pleasure doing business with you, but I will say your work is worth the cost. Thanks for putting up with me." And with that, she took off into the sky and back to the tavern. Perhaps they'd have something there that she could test her new blade on.

[Huntress]

Huntress slowly raised her head to look at the stranger who had come over to their table. Then she looked down at Bloody Mary. "Comment?"

"Toldya I didn't feel so good," the meepit grumbled.

"Not that... how come she's still standing thar, alive and unharmed, when she grabbed ye in her hand and threatened ye with her dagger?"

The meepit rolled over with a quiet 'barf'. "What I just said. I remembered her face, okay?"

"Yowch." Bob sat up, forgetting his hangover for a moment. "Seriously? The last time you remembered someone's face, the person moved to the other side of the planet, changed his name, had a plastic surgery, became a priest and gave his money to the poor... and you still tracked him down."

"My name," the meepit hiccuped, "is Bloody 'Marik" Mary, ohkay? Nuff said. Barf!"

Huntress poked her breakfast with the absently sleepy expression of someone who always gets up too early for her own liking. She looked up at the stranger again. "Basically I own those meepits, aye. But they'd never admit that themselves, anarchists as thay are. Talk to Bloody Mary once he's okay again."

"That'll be short," Bob remarked.

[Zylaa]

Zylaa's head rested on the table, fast asleep. She was not a morning person. She despised mornings. Mornings were for songbirds. Not weasel girls.
The girl attempted to wake up a few times, enough to catch the words "Geraptiku," "drunk meepits," and "Mr. Banana," though that last one might have been in her dreams...