<hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 20pt;"><strong>Game Master</strong></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/FsSwBxR.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rosette de Courtenay (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=300519.msg14691423#msg14691423)<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Captain<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Esperanza, Port Royal | top deck → Captain’s Quarters<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date:</strong>Day 1, Morning, close to Noon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Lifa | Rachel | Weston | Chiana<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Addressing several crewmembers, moving to her private quarters<br/><hr/><br/>She listened intently to Lifa’s brief introduction of her companion. But more, she watched the subtle evolution of expressions, some isolated solely to the confines of her pale blue irises, that betrayed more of what went on inside the mind of the enigmatic new recruit. Despite all that Lifa was telling her, Rose was left with a feeling of unsatisfaction. Her intuition offered no reason to think the girl was lying to her, but it also, in its perceptive and undeniably spot-on way, suggested to Rose that it was a plain truth. Merely a surface barely being scratched at all.<br/><br/>Rose’s attention was briefly drawn by the sight of a girl approaching, her eyes ever so often resting on the captain and her present company. Her eyes followed Rachel’s movements as she passed, her gaze fixating on the nubile sailor if just for a moment. Even Rosette had to admit that she wasn’t used to having such a plentitude of women aboard; so far it seemed to be working out well though. Whether this would be true once they’d been at sea for several weeks was a thing that remained to be seen.  She audibly exhaled through the nose, and Rose’s posture relaxed, then tensed once more as she pushed herself away from the ship’s bow and, in such, distancing herself from Lifa by a good few feet.<br/><br/>“Your experience will serve us well,” Rose said, with a lightly strained air of diplomacy laced into her words. “Perhaps taking you on as a mere sailor was an inaccuracy on Master Scott’s part.” She angled her head to the side in thought, then, on the heels of her leatherclad boots, spun coyly back to the dark-haired fisherman’s daughter. “I expect much from you, Lifa,” Rosette told her, the words vibrant with barely hidden mischief. “Tomorrow I’ll gladly see your true worth. If your skill is true to the claims you’ve made, then I expect you at the front line. After that…” she continued, and her attention was drawn to the approach of a man who had gone remarkably unnoticed thusfar. A man in whom she had a very special interest. “After that, we will truly talk!” she promised in a conspiring tone.<br/><br/>It would seem that the high-born looking newcomer had no qualm with interrupting the captain in her conversation, but Rose met Weston Beauchamp with open arms - although not quite literally. His attire was everything that Liam had made it out to be, and she could only wonder how he had made it this long aboard the Esperanza unscathed; her fresh crew was of a different calibre, all right, not pouncing the extravagant looking stranger at first chance. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and his speech did nothing to lessen that feeling. Rose found herself listening to Weston’s words with a gradually widening grin; he was going to suit her needs just fine, for sure.<br/><br/>“Weston Beauchamp, yes?”  Rosette said, and perhaps the look of amusement that inevitably accompanied the somewhat redundant question was a little patronising. She pushed the sentiment away, brushing past him just enough to force the man to turn around if he wanted to continue this conversation. “An actual scholar aboard my ship. Are you going to put me to shame, being so<em>learn</em>ed? Follow me, would you.”<br/><br/>She set off with a confident gait, her hips revealing a natural laidback, yet so alluring, sway that no landlubber could ever hope to rival. Rose set a steady course for her own quarters, and it was clear she was leaving Wes little choice but to follow. “No need to fret, Mister Beauchamp,” she said, “You will find your accommodations satisfactory, I’m sure. It has all the amenities you could possibly wish for, and if you should request anything else, just come to me and I’ll be<em>so</em>happy to accommodate you.”<br/><br/>Rose wasn’t certain that Weston would pick up on the sarcastic edge to her words. Spoiled aristocrat sons had a sense of self-worth that often bordered on the delusional. From what she could tell so far, their new<em>scholar</em>could very well be counted among them. It made her wonder how long he would last aboard this ship, but as long as she was able to keep him around for the time it would take him to aid her in her quest of finding a treasure so invaluable, few people had even heard of it, Rosette de Courtenay had no reason to be concerned.<br/><br/>As they walked, she noticed Chiana standing near the barrels. Rose could not help the light sense of relief, although she should probably have felt the contrary. The girl was a wildcard, a liability as well, though for reasons she was probably blissfully unaware of. When she had been caught adrift in stormy waters, not four weeks ago, Rose’s first inclination had been to leave her. Mercy had found the Captain only when she saw the struggling girl, clutching bravely to driftwood, through the eye of her spyglass. The vast sea that surrounded had enhanced a sense of innocence, of helplessness that surrounded the small figure, and while Rose was not one to take pity easily…<em>there had just been something about her that made it impossible to look away.</em>So Chiana had been dragged aboard the Esperanza, and despite soon learning that the girl wasn’t innocent<em>or</em>helpless in the slightest, Rose had taken a shine to her. Enough to let her stay even when they made anchor at Tortuga, or when they arrived at Port Royal not two days ago. If anything, Rosette found that she’d worried the girl wouldn’t return on time - or at all.<br/><br/>She met eyes with the young woman from across the deck, but more than that single moment of acknowledgement was all they shared before Rose returned her attention to Weston. “First, I will be showing you the task I have set out for you though,” she told him, and there was a serious undertone to her words now. They reached the door, and Rose retrieved her key from a place where no pirate would dare reach for it. As she unlocked the door to her private quarters, she paused a moment before pushing it open. “What I’m going to show you does not leave my room. And while you’re working on it, neither do you. Understood?”<br/><br/>