Better than Doubloons
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Ramael on 17-02-2010, 02:31:30</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramael</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 02:31:30</strong>
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				<em>In an honest Service, there is thin Commons, low Wages, and hard Labour; in this, Plenty and Satiety, Pleasure and Ease, Liberty and Power; and who would not balance Creditor on this Side, when all the Hazard that is run for it, at worst, is only a sower Look or two at choaking. No, a merry Life and a short one shall be my Motto ” </em><br><br>—Pirate Captain Bartholomew Roberts<br><br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/93/Lowther.jpg)<br><br>As the midday sun beat down upon a port town in Barbados, a furious looking, dark-clad man stormed out of a large building and exclaimed loudly in disgust.<br><br>James Lowther, also known as Redeye, also known as El Cabron de Ingles, also known as Jim, stalked down the planked walkway connecting the town's council house to its small harbour, his thick leather boots striking the wood with hard, hollow noises. He alternately shook his head and rubbed his sprouting facial hair agitatedly.<br><br><em>Take my ship away...what about the boys?!...frigging...bastard...</em><br><br>Jim's thoughts wheeled from anger to disbelief to plots of revenge, then skidded back to anger all over again. He had been privateering on behalf of the British navy for a year now, on board <em>The Black Daisy</em>, a worn but proud vessel boasting eight cannon. The captain had been killed during the last clash with Spanish navy vessels, which left the younger Jim as acting captain to bring the <em>Daisy</em> back to Barbados to repair and restock. Upon arrival, however, Jim and his crew were not given the same "blind eye" as all privateers were used to receiving by the governors of the Carribbean isles. It seemed that the last raid had been one too many, and the <em>Daisy</em> had been recognised as a British vessel, incurring the wrath of the Spaniards.<br><br>After a brief scuffle with British armed officers in Bridgetown, Jim was bought before the governer to explain his actions, or face charges of piracy, an offense hangable in the eyes of British maritime law. Talking quickly was something Jim was used to, and on top of producing his letter of marque, he evaded the harshest of charges, but was forced to relinquish his arms, his letter of marque, and, more importantly, his ship.<br><br><em>Now what...I'm out of a job...my plans of taking the Daisy and the lads out to Tortuga...how can you be a pirate without a ship?!</em><br><br>As he stormed down the plankway towards the nearest inn (Jim didn't know where the nearest inn in Bridgetown was, he just knew he needed a drink), his mind raced. All the things the <em>Daisy</em> and their crew had done, all the people they had encountered...they had arrived in time to spare a few British merchant vessels a thrashing at the hands of French corsairs and Spanish ships, but none of those merchants were in Barbados.<br><br>Jim suddenly stopped in his determined stride. Coming to a halt on the plankway, he squinted his hazel, dark eyes up at the Carribbean sun and stroked his proud jawline in thought. Merchants and other important-looking people in petticoats and wigs walked past, giving Jim concerned looks that ranged from worry to disgust. His long, black overcoat had become wearied in months of sea-faring, not to mention the stains of various sources that littered the hem near his boots. His hair was long and unkempt, rushing down in unruly fashion over one eye after weeks without a haircut, and he couldn't remember the last time he shaved. To all the travellers passing by, he looked like one of the pirates they had heard so many horrible stories about. <br><br>Jim treated a selected few of the well-dressed merchants to his best dazzling smile, cocking his head slightly in a mock-courteous fashion.<br><br>"Good day, my most honoured sirs. If you care to stay longer, maybe I can produce for you a charcoal sketch...?"<br><br>They hurried on, flustered, embarrassed at Jim's forthrightness.<br><br>Watching them go, Jim silently cursed merchants for being the root of privateering, when a thought struck him like a musketball.<br><br>Wheeling on his booted heel in a flash of inspiration, he stormed all the way back up the wooden walkway (scaring his merchant friends again as he pushed past them) and approached the governer's building. <br><br><em>Merchants...of course...now, what was that old man's name? Read?</em><br><br>Striding back in, Jim had a breif scuffle with the two guards at the door. When they recognised him from before, they let him go, but watched his every step with hawk's eyes. Jim loudly demanded pen and paper from a nearby scribe, who begrudgingly produced him with the tools, half surprised that such a common-sounding and dirty-looking man could actually read, let alone write. <br><br>Seizing the quill with fevered hand, Jim scrawled a letter down, addressed to a certain Mr Read.<br>If one could make out the fitted, blotchy writing by peeking over Jim's black-coated shoulder, then one could get the gist of the letter. Something along the lines of calling a favour in...lest certain actions be brought to light...privateering doesn't always cover the smuggling of tobacco out of the Carribbean...and about how it would be an <em>awful</em> shame if the governers were ever to hear about it...<br><br>Jim smirked at his handiwork and imagined the old man reading the letter. He put the feather of the quill to his weathered face, brushing it over his nose as he tried to dream up a sum that would buy him another ship...<br><br><em>Well, that's what you get if you employ a bunch of privateers...no, a bunch of pirates to steal half a plantation of tobacco for you and carry it back to Europe. The doubloons he gave us weren't enough anyway, I told the captain he should have asked for more...now old Read will be paying through his nose! Not like he has anything else I want or need...</em><br><br>That was when another, far subtler thought crept into Jim's sun-heatened head. He remembered the captain taking him to meet the merchant Read...he remembered the old man scooting someone away as the two armed men approached.<br><br>Jim's eyes widened, his rough hand frozen on the quill.<br><br>Helena Read, the merchant's lovely daughter. Jim remembered fading out as his captain and the merchant spoke in double-bluff about the smuggling operation, and finding his eyes locked onto the girl. She was young, with clear blue eyes and golden locks that fell gently over her face. Jim found himself looking at her soft pink lips and the unblemished, creamy looking nape of her neck, following it down to the beginnings of her generous cleavage. He found himself swallowing hard and missing nearly all of the important things were said.<br><br>Looking back down now, he hesitated only a fraction of a second longer before putting the inky quill back to the paper, scratching quickly. <br><br><em>Let's see how far Read will go to keep his secret...allow his beloved daughter to be taken on a trip by a man who is becoming renowned as a pirate?</em><br><br>Jim finished his scrawl with a flourished signature. Standing up straight he was about to look for the scribe again, when he realised his little daydream about Helena had had a somewhat more...pronounced affect on him. Gulping and trying to adjust his breeches without causing a scene, Jim quickly tried to scoop his swelling groin into a more concealed position. He realised that it had been a while...his last visit to a whorehouse had been on Tortuga, and that had been over a week ago. Indifferently, he reminisced that remembered very little of it, in fact. It was Tortuga, after all.<br><br>Jim couldn't help grinning to himself again.<br><br><em>When this letter reaches Read, it will be the start of a very interesting chain of events...</em><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Charity</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 21:51:52</strong>
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				<em>"A true lady, will only show her undergarments in true company."</em><br>~Lady Helena Read.<br><br>(http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l8/Unforgotten-sophie/sf_091907_2_0_0_0x0_300x507.jpg)<br><br>A soft breeze rolled in from the open French doors of the balcony. The rolling and crashing waves on the cliffs below could be seen from where the young girl sat. The young girl would sit there for hours on end at the edge of that grand poster bed her father had given to her and fully furnished with feather pillows and many a blanket. She felt like a true princess and had done all her life. It was something her parents set out to do since the day she was born. She got everything she ever wanted and more. Helena, who was named after some great grandmother who passed away seemed to spend hours in that room of hers. A maid was given to her on her twentieth birthday,&nbsp; and was still with her today, someone she depended on greatly. <br><br>“I hope you know miss, your father wants you in the great hall” she explained, pulling the ribbons tight on the soft velvet corset that hugged her torso tightly.<br><br>Helena simply nodded, casting her way out of her bedroom and into the hallway. Her house was not the biggest in the area, but more of contained the most expensive things. Her father had a business going. Quite a successful one at that, and seemed to own a lot of land that people wanted. He seemed to be the nice guy until something very peculiar happened…<br><br>As a servant opened the mahogany double doors that opened up to the great hall, she saw her father looking worriedly at an old bit of parchment that looked like it had been shipped in this morning. Now, her father wasn’t the softest man on the planet, what with his rugged seadog looks and build, and to see him looking so pale with a hand stuck to his forehead in dismay startled her greatly. She parked her backside in one of the wooden seats located at the main table and waited for the explanation. She gazed around the hall noticing a few paintings off centre and a few golden ornaments needing to be polished. She’d be sure to tell one of the servants to sort it all out after. Then, she finally noticed her father swallowing hard and getting ready to speak up.<br><br>“Sweetheart? There’s something I need to tell you. You have to go away for a few days. Maybe a few weeks. It’ll be fun. You’ll be sent on one of our main ships to Barbados to see some family you haven’t seen before. You’ll be met from the ship by a young man and you must follow him okay? No questions asked. You’re dismissed from the conversation.” He sighed, ripping up the parchment and digging his hand into his pocket and handing her a pouch with she was not to open until she got there. He then clicked a finger for a servant to come and fetch his one and only daughter. <br><br>Helena’s face simple resembled someone that had just been slapped. Sure she’d want to see family she’d never met, but a bit short notice wasn’t it? Making her way back into her room, a Servant passed her an old trunk in which she’d pack for a few weeks. She simply put in a few silk undergarments, petticoats, corsets and overskirts. Waltzing over to a jewellery box she’d been given when she was a little girl from her mother, she opened it to reveal a true treasure cove of gold’s and a whole spectrum of colours of different stones set into the gold. She picked a few sentimental items and closed the case. She sat down in front of her vanity mirror for her wavy blonde hair to be brushed for the last time in a weeks by her servant. A few quick goodbyes led her to being pushed into the cobbled streets and onto one of the boats her family owned. It was small in size, and luckily her father had already arranged for a captain to sail her across the seas. It was someone she was unfamiliar with, so she was expected to stay in her room the whole trip. <br><br>Setting her trunk down onto the pretty basic and hard bed she wasn’t used to, she gazed around the room. It seemed to be claustrophobic and dull in colour. The walls were a shade of brown, and the window seemed to inhabit moss from the mildew built up on the inside. It sure wasn’t going to be a pleasant trip at all, she hoped it wouldn’t be too long at sea, not that she wasn’t used to it due to her past, but because of her surroundings and the excitement of seeing family she’d never met before.<br><br><em>”I’d better be well looked after or I’ll be having words”</em> she demanded to herself.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramael</strong> on <strong>18-02-2010, 12:38:14</strong>
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				Jim sat in an inn with a cool tankard of ale, which was sweating and growing rapidly warm in the Barbados heat. Around the table with him in the smoky room were sat two of his closest companions, men who had shared in his wounds and shared in his plunder. Since losing his ship they had grown glum but not lost their faith in their new captain. They were scarred but honest men, and currently they looked towards Jim with excited leers.<br><br>"Come on Jim lad! Why y'holdin out on us? What is it getting shipped in?"<br><br>Jim smiled at the speaker. Barbary Will, Jim's shaven-headed first mate, an English chap that had allowed himself to tan to a rich brown in the tropical sun. Jim was, as well, although only on his face and hands. He had an odd penchant of wearing his signature black greatcoat even in the midday sun, earning him a reputation as an eccentric. Currently Will squinted with one bleary eye at his younger captain. Jim winked back at his first mate and said nothing. <br><br>Will scoffed loudly and slammed his fist on the table.<br><br>"Well, y'love yer secrets, dontcha cap'n? All we know is that it's not another ship...but it's as <em>good</em> as another ship...!?"<br><br>David Plank, the young cabin boy grinned and lifted his heavy metal tankard with both hands. He had been a legitimate privateer like the rest of Jim's crew when Jim made the decision to "go pirate". The boy had been unsure of this criminal choice, so Jim had taken him to one side. The captain knew the boy had an average life back in London, which meant an awful life. One of servitude to the rich, poor food and worse wages, probably a good smack round the head once in a while, too. Jim had given him a taste of another life, and offered him a chance to stay on that path,forever. He had confided in the young David that he had no better cabin boy to replace him if he left, and what would he do without him?<br>David, admiring the young dashing captain Lowther, had agreed to stay on with the crew of the <em>Daisy</em> as they turned pirate. Jim always made sure to keep him by his side in a boarding action...partially because any man needs a partner to cover him while he reloads or blocks a thrust, but also because he wanted to keep an only slightly protective eye over the boy.<br><br>Currently, David was grinning and piped up.<br><br>"Yeah, good as another ship? Are we going to exchange the <em>Daisy</em> for a narwhal? What will I use to scamper up, its great nose horn?"<br><br>Will smashed his hand on the table again and laughed uproarously, slamming his other hand hard into David's back, causing him to spill his ale over his face, which made Will howl all the more.<br><br>"No, gentlemen, no whales will be expanding our fleet as of yet. I promise you, though, it is something just as exciting. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go meet it, at the docks...and I shall return to you forthwith."<br><br>Pushing himself out from the table, Jim's chair scraped across the sticky floor of the inn. Rising and adjusting his collars, Will sneered.<br><br>"Must be important...he's using them big funny words again and he's even shaved!" The first mate said, nudging David, who slopped more of his ale onto the table.<br><br>With only a grin to his shipmates, Jim exited the tavern into the blinding Caribbean sunshine. Making his way over to the harbour, he tried to make out the time from the position of the lazy, smouldering sun in the cloudless sky and returned his eyes back to the ships as he grew closer to them.<br><br><em>By my timekeeping, her ship should be arriving in only a few minutes. I haven't felt this charged since we took that silver-bearing sloop off the Spanish Main...</em><br><br>Jim grinned again, adjusting his coat collars and hair once more, making sure to cast a wary eye about for Spanish trade officers, before swaggering lazily towards the ports, squinting on the horizon for approaching ships. Harbour workers and officials trotted to and fro, some of them taking a second to squint and raise eyebrows at the black-greatcoat wearing figure approaching.<br><br>Jim licked the ale from his lips, drew in a deep salty breath of the sea, and waited.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Charity</strong> on <strong>18-02-2010, 21:30:47</strong>
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				The smell of the sea air greeted Helena’s nose as she awoke from her slumber. She’d managed to fall asleep on an old bit of parchment she’d been reading and had a word imprinted into her cheek. Stretching her young muscles out and yawning a few times she knelt on the hard bed with an arm propped against the sill of the window to gaze out to sea. She used to do this as a child, she’d wake up every morning, kneel on her bed and gaze out. She’d count how many gulls and how many fish she’d see before it was time to get ready. The sea looked magnificent she had to admit. She was in a part of the world she’s never been before and she woke up hot. The sea was clear in colour and you were able to see right to the seabed. <br><br>It glistened in the sunrise, the pretty colours reflecting from it in the distance as many a tropical fish could be seen. A few gulls had woken her up that morning, but she didn’t mind, she was getting used to all that. She’d soon find her sea legs again. She was one to lose it, especially after being on land for over a year whilst her father had been off at sea running errands and his businesses. She was daddy’s little pirate back in the day. He’d dress her up in little outfits that resembled a good old fashioned pirate by their standards, and even let her take the wheel sometimes if she was good. <br><br>By her estimations she’d be docking soon. Her stomach began to churn at the thought. She hadn’t met these people before and she’d be spending a few weeks even months with them. What if she didn’t like them? What if they didn’t like her? She’d have no way of getting home and she had no money. The worry began to over take her body and she had to sit down. <br><br>“Miss, we will be docking shortly. I suggest you get… Dressed.” A crewman burst in, looking at her up and down just wearing a silk nightdress. <br><br>“Yes, on your way.” <br><br>Picking up her heavy trunk, she opened it, flinging clothes around the room left right and centre. It was hot outside, very hot. Much hotter than London. She began to slip her nightdress off and found a suitable corset. Firstly she placed a airy light blue blouse over her bare breasts, then grabbed the corset which cut underneath her generous breasts and began to tug at the ribbon at the back, making sure her breasts where enhanced as much as possible. After all, she’d be in grand company of family and she had to be looking her best. She then began to file her way through the skirt and petticoats. <br><br>“Too long… Too thick… Ah! There it is” she mumbled to herself with a grin.<br><br>After slipping her petticoat and skirt on slowly over her bare ass, she figured underwear would be a little hot in this climate and if the family were posh she could always change, she packed the rest of her things. Taking a hand to her neck, she pulled out a sentimental locket and began to rub it softly to make sure it was there, she could then hear a hustle and bustle of shore coming in close. With that, a thud of the ship docking caused her to become unbalanced. Lugging her trunk with no help from the crew, the heels on her leather black boot clicked along the ramp. A few market folk could be heard bantering rather loudly in the for ground.<br><br>“I guess this is goodbye then. Tell my father when you get back I love him? I’ll stay in touch by parchment. I’m sure my family won’t mind” she smiled, stepping off from the boat.<br><br>She stood at the docks silently, yet excitedly waiting for her chaperone to come and fetch her. She was rather eager to see people she hadn’t met that shared her blood. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramael</strong> on <strong>19-02-2010, 00:23:18</strong>
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				Jim squinted.<br><br>He squinted more.<br><br>His eyes began to hurt.<br><br><em>Blonde, pretty, looking about, sort of forlorn...has to be.</em><br><br>Sashaying swiftly through the knots of people, Jim smoothed down his greatcoat (a completely unnecessary gesture belying a sort of nervousness Jim would never admit to) and sauntered upto the girl.<br><br>Putting on his best smile, he slowed to a casual trot as he approached her.<br><br>He could see her clearly now, and it was just as well she wasn't looking at&nbsp; James "Redeye" Lowther, as he wouldn't be making the best of impressions with his eyes bulging halfway from their sockets.<br><br>With buttery-hued curls all the more radiant in the golden sunlight, eyes as blue as the sea she had just travelled on, and a corset that...well. Suffice it to say Jim had momentarily lost his infamous cool.<br><br>It was not only that her cleavage was subtlely accentuated. It was not only that her skirt and petticoat seemed to tease the sea breeze with an infuriating ephemeracy, like they could vanish at any given moment and reveal the glowing and obviously vibrantly healthy figure underneath.<br><br>It was that the entire ensemble image of this woman became grafted into Jim's very <em>subconscious</em> and would probably remain for the rest of his rum-drenched life. Feeling sweat gather on his brow that wasn't purely down to the tropical climate, Jim tried to dissuade his mistreated heart from performing an aggressive boarding action on his adam's apple. For a few seconds, the privateer-turned-pirate was wrestling with forces far beyond his ken.<br><br>Jim never fought his impulses before. They were better equipped and usually outnumbered him. He wasn't prepared for this, at all.<br><br>For the first time in his life, Jim, for his own benefit if no one elses, actually forced himself to look in a ladies eye when addressing her. He didn't know if he could look down past the nape of that gentle, soft neck without losing his reason entirely.<br><br>Clearing his throat gently and hoping his internal struggle wasn't painted all over his face, he spoke.<br><br>"Lady Helena Read, is it? Captain James Lowther, at your acquaintance."<br><br>Another problem. Usually in these situations he would grin savagely and grab said wenches' bottom. Even when meeting noble women, he made a point of planting a lingering, wet kiss onto their hand.<br><br>It was just that Jim actually couldn't trust himself not to try and lick this particular hand, should it be presented to him.<br><br>He opted simply for a perfunctory bow. When he rose, he treated her to one of his best smiles, and hoped it did not belay the savage instincts that were hollering at him from the inside.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Charity</strong> on <strong>22-02-2010, 12:38:42</strong>
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				The soft warm breeze accompanied her on that shoreline, as she awaited to be picked up as it were. She’d waited for a few short moments before a rugged, pirate came staggering towards her. Taken a back, she simply took a few steps back, almost stepping back into the sea herself. <br><br>She cocked her head to the side as he began to introduce himself. The introduction wasn’t the most thought out, what with the drunken bow and the slurred speech. Watching him rise back up from his bow, she stood there for a moment, before politely curtsying. She dipped herself as low as she could go, her cleavage now even more on show as she brought herself back up slowly.<br><br>“It’s a pleasure to meet you I’m sure. My father says I must follow you, is that true?” She said with a half smile and a nod.<br><br>The mans physical features were beginning to grow on her, only slightly though. He was meant to be family after all. Or that’s what she thought. The man seemed to be standing a little closer to her than when she last remembered, smiling awkwardly, she took a side step to the side. As the breeze began to blow up the back of her skirt slightly, she smoothed it down with an embarrassed look upon her face and flushed cheeks to show it. <br><br>“Is there somewhere I can rest? The trip really took it out of me, and these heels, well don’t get me started.” She laughed, letting her guard down a little bit. Her father would surely kill her if he caught her doing that in strange company. <br><br>Her trunk was rather large and heavy, heaving it across the way, she stood there and puffed. Wiping her brow she fluttered her eyelashes back at the pirate. She knew exactly how to play people to her advantage when it came to short tasks like these. She then pushed a smile across her face, the need and want to see the rest of her family beginning to excite her. She hoped to the gods that they wouldn’t all look and be like this hopeless chap. <br><br>“My trunk is awfully heavy… Would… You… mind?” The words rolled out of her lips softly as she simply stood by her trunk with a light hand on her hip. <br><br>The heat really beginning to warm up her bones. Something she’d never felt before. After all, all she could remember was the cold air of the British isles. Extremely small beads of sweat formed on her hands as the nervousness began to kick in for her.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramael</strong> on <strong>24-02-2010, 22:11:19</strong>
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				The words had barely left Ms Read's soft and appealing lips when Jim scooped his arm down and hefted the trunk, grasping it firmly by the worn handle with his left hand. He had not missed the quaint fluttering of sultry eyelashes, but had not needed them, either. Straining, but determined not to show the effort, Jim lifted the trunk a couple of inches from the sandy boards and smiled. <br>Although having taken a blistering broadside, Jim prided himself on his recovery. Quickly flicking his free hand through his messy hair, he regained some of his charm and composure. Trying to dredge up his old and only just civilised London accent, Jim reckoned he couldn't quite keep the years of drinking and cabin-talk from creeping back and colouring his present tongue.<br><br>"My dear Lady Helena, your completely straightforward questions will be answered in due time. Follow me...yes...yes it is imperative that you follow me, m'lady. I will show you to yer...<em>your</em> lodgings, I am sure that after your long trip you would like a rest, and maybe a cool glass of water, both of which I will only be too pleased to serve you with."<br><br><em>Old man Read struck this right on the button! I've barely had to do any convincing at all!</em><br><br>Hiding his grin, Jim gestured with his free hand, his eyes darting back and forth across Helena's flimsy dress, fluttering in the sea breeze. <br><br>"Ah yes, m'lady, you should be mindful of your attire...this place isn't as civilised as the clubrooms and halls that you are no doubt used to back home. There are...more predatory members of society at large in Barbados..."<br><br>Jim paused for a second, fighting against his brain. The organ was completely flustered that its owner had spoken to a member of the opposite sex for roughly a minute without the slightest innuendo or flirtation. Jim's brain threatened a strike unless said circumstances were reviewed.<br><br>Jim conceded the point.<br><br>"...of course, for present company, I think your attire is most pleasing...and brings out your eyes."<br><br>Turning away quickly before he caught Helena's reaction, Jim's stomach rushed slightly at his own daring. His rebellious brain settled down, satisfied, and gave only the faintest of kicks to his libido.<br>Licking the sea air from his lips, he inclined his head back towards the lovely Helena.<br><br>"This way, if you please, m'lady."<br><br><em> I can't take her back to the inn with the boys. Bring a creature like this into a den of...no, not a chance. I'll set her up in my...I mean her room. Will and David will just have to work it out themselves...if they aren't already grogged out on the floor.</em><br><br>Jim began walking, lugging Helena's trunk in his right hand, feeling his muscles strain underneath the black sleeve of his greatcoat. <br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Charity</strong> on <strong>25-02-2010, 12:17:26</strong>
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				The warm, humid air was beginning to making her feel a little uncomfortable. Her clothing began to stick to her body. Fluttering her hand by her face, she tried to get some of the heat away. She really wasn’t used to this. This place was nothing like London at all. Luckily she seemed to be in some nice company, for now anyway…<br><br>Jim seemed to be leading her through the hustle and bustle of the market. The array of colours almost creating a rainbow in front of her eyes as she gazed at the wonderful amounts of clothing on sale. The jewellery sparkled in the golden glow of the sun, catching her eyes instantly as she wandered over to one of the stalls. She forgot that Jim was carrying her bag. <br><br>“This is simply divine. I must know the price.” She spoke out to Jim with a soft smile spreading across her full lips.<br><br>The stall owner grinned at the accent, knowing full well she wasn’t from around here. He picked up Helena’s hand and was about to kiss it before she instantly snatched it away. She wasn’t one for people to be rather forward. She was a very shy person on the inside, and someone being as forward as that made her nervous.<br><br>“N-Nevermind. I think I’ll pass.” She nervously smiled back, waiting for Jim to take her back to her living quarters she’d accommodate on her stay there. <br><br>The pair then made their way out from the sandy boards, and onto some cobbled paving. An uproar of laughter and drunken antics filled the air as the pair passed a Inn. Helena stopped in her tracks as she looked up to the sign. It looked like somewhere friendly they could go to rest their feet, especially Jim’s arm as she saw him slightly wincing from the pulling of his biceps and triceps. From the windows she could see smoky figures dancing around on tables and singing drunken sea shanties. <br><br>“Captain James Lowther, this seems like such a fun place to go. May we enter inside?” She asked innocently, smoothing down her skirt and adjusting her soft breasts within their cage of corset.<br><br>A few seadogs exited the Inn and spotted Jim, drunkenly stumbling across the cobbles. They put an arm around him singing a known shanty before having a chat with him, something Helena could not hear from where she was standing. She smiled, waiting for him to reply to her question.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Better than Doubloons</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ramael</strong> on <strong>26-02-2010, 19:58:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Redeye! y' friggin...cuntcher!"<br><br>Jim half-smiled good naturedly as men he only vaguely knew in various states of inebriation stumbled out from the inn, stale, booze-filled breath on his face and gnarled hands slapping his back. Who was this...crew of the <em>Pelican</em>? Maybe.<br><br>"Lads, gents, good day...I trust you have all been working hard?"<br><br>Uproarous whoops and hollering laughter met his tongue-in-cheek remark. One man, a black grinning chap swathed in bandanas, nodded keenly at Jim and then seemed to sober up a little.<br><br>"Say...hear you lost the <em>Daisy</em>, Redeye...you gonna be boarding hotels now?!"<br><br>More bellowing laughter. Jim grimaced and took it on the chin. The bandana'd drunk grabbed him by the shoulder and ushered him down the street suddenly.<br><br>"Come, let's raid some inns on the way...you can teach us how to be a land-pirate! Ha ha!"<br><br>Jim was shrugging off his well-meaning assailant in the nicest possible way when movement caught his eye. One of the lubricated group, a greying, middle-aged sort with tattered shirt, seemed to have sobered up enough to notice Jim's more aesthetically pleasing company, and was lurching towards the onlooking Helena, displaying a toothless grin. Rapidly fluctuating from mildly irate to incensed in a heartbeat, Jim pushed past his new "friend" and stormed over to the lech. Taking a swing with his right arm, he smashed away the outstretched arms, and, with a twist of his wrist, shoved the dribbling drunk back against the alley wall in one movement.<br><br>Clenching his teeth and ignoring the sloppy indignant shouts and lewd hollering that followed them, he grabbed Helena by her slim wrist and pulled her quickly with him away from the inn, luggage in his other hand. <br><br>After a few tense paces, Jim slackened his grip on Helena, but kept his sun-weathered hand softly around her wrist. Talking out of the corner of his mouth, Jim's dark eyes searched out the building he was looking for.<br><br><em>Can't be too far away now...</em><br><br>"You have my most sincere apologies, m'lady. I have warned you about folk here, and I can assure you the group we have just met are not the worst, by far. Let us set you up in your quarters and we can organise leisure activities and frivolities at a later date."<br><br>Jim realised he was mildly sorry about sounding so harsh. He shook his head as contradictory thoughts began filling it.<br><br><em>It doesn't matter how harsh I sound, damn it. She is a faculty, here to serve me and help me get my career back on it's legs...a pleasant looking tool, nontheless, one that I plan to use as is my whim.</em><br><br>Despite the stoic nature of his mental beratings, Jim couldn't help that contradictory voice from creeping in and sabotaging his braggart bluff.<br><br><em>Then why was I so protective over her at the inn just then...!? It wouldn't have mattered if she got roughed up a little, would have got her adjusted well enough to this bloody place...Christ's blood, did the lass hear them call me Redeye?!</em><br><br>Growling and clearing his throat, Jim finally pulled Helena and luggage to a large, white plastered building. One of the better inns in this district, Jim had managed a few weeks prior to secure a decent room complete with horizon-facing window on credit, as it were. He had reserved the spot for his...better-off lady friends, a category of which Helena most definately fell into. Well to-do people milled about the place, chatting in the sun, or pointing luggage at skinny servants. A couple of them looked up at the oddly-dressed and intense seeming Jim as he approached, even more so as they saw he was dragging his company along. Self-conscious, Jim let go of Helena's arm finally, and patted down his greatcoat. Nodding to those still gawking, he stepped up to the entrance and walked through the doors. Cool air and shade greeted the pair as Jim made basic small chat with the inn keeper. Seeing Helena's obvious class, a couple of the shrewder servants scurried up to take Helena's luggage from Jim, in the hopes of a good tipping.<br><br>Jim smiled a crocodile smile, and spoke to them in a very low, purring voice.<br><br>"I will put nothing in your pockets but your own severed fingers if you so much as look at this chest ever again."<br><br>Satisfied at their sudden solitary state, Jim hefted Helena's luggage up the wooden stairs, and made his way across the well-furnished landing to his door, hoping to make best use of it before the owners here got wind that Jim would never actually pay for anything.<br><br><em>French tables eh...must have redecorated. Nice touch.</em><br><br>Reaching the door, Jim looked back at Helena and smiled again.<br><br>"I do hope this is suited to your needs, m'lady. You will notice the fashionably-furnished European fittings here...we do like to keep a touch of class for the better-paying clients on these islands."<br><br>Flashing her his grin again, Jim clunked the heavy iron key into the small lock, and swung open the door with a flourish.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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