Post by Katara on Jun 7, 2007 13:26:28 GMT -5
The rum was gone, the men were sober, the women were bored and restless, and apparently, the captain was ready for a new adventure. Finally, after all these weeks they were heading for land! Specifically, the port city of Kyoshi, one of the many trading ports that dealt in the black market. You could buy anything from Kyoshi- and that was no exaggeration. The Slave Trade was alive and well within its wall, and you often came across very strange examples of chicken/panther crosses...
Captain John Guillmore (whilst going through his newly sorted room) had come across a few odd trinkets he'd bought a few years back, when he thought them of very high value. Back on board and miles out to sea, he discovered they were cheap, made to look good, but cheap, worthless garbage.
Now he wanted his money back.
It was common knowledge that you could not only buy anything in Kyoshi- you could sell anything. Of course, the bothersome Navy kept their tabs, but as it was, Kyoshi was a very low-key security area. Crime thrived- petty theft alongside fully organised asassination teams (MI25 sprang to mind as a leading agency) swarmed to it.
Not to mention, it was a great hiding place.
For anything... or anyone...
Captain Guillmore had assembled his crew before the shining Ship's Bell. This was the meeting place. The Captain rang the bell once, and the whole crew was assembled in five minutes flat. And if they didn't, there were dire consequences...
The Captain stood looking down at them now, his wild blue eyes dancing with a sort of feverish excitement. Soon he would be clutching fistfuls of money in his greedy hands... soon he would be just that little bit richer, and those who stood before him now... his pawns if you like, were help him get there.
"Crew!" he barked, in his usual abrupt and direct manner. "As a select few of you already know, we will be pulling into Kyoshi as soon as tomorrow if the weather is in our favour. There, I will be selling some old... ah... posessions of mine. You!" he suddenly snapped, pointing ferociously at a small girl at the front of the crowd.
She immediately jumped to attention. "Captain?"
"That's Captain Guillmore," he growled. "That, sir, or master may be better suited to the likes of you. I wish for you to clean up my possessions. Make 'em gleam. Make some real rich fella' fall over in shock at just how shiny they are."
"Yes... master."
He arched an eyebrow. "Don't make a bollocks of this, lass, or I swear you'll be at the bottom of Davy Jone's Locker within a week from now."
The girl hung her head, silent once more.
"You, lad," he said suddenly, turning on a boy at the back of the crowd. "Ye've got a good crop of hair, don't you?"
"Aye, sir," said the lad, standing up tall at being addressed directly. "Me mam always said- "
"Cut it off."
"Wh- what...?"
"Cut it off," repeated the Captain, his lip curling. "You'll make a fine wig for some poor balding chap."
The boy paled slightly, but nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."
For who dared disagree with the Captain?
"Ye do too," he muttered, looking over at another lad, "and you," he now turned his attention on a girl with thick red hair. "Cut it off. Cut it all off."
The response was simultaneous.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, sir."
"My pleasure, sir."
"Good," he smiled. "Now... Dr Phillips?"
Phil stepped out of the crowd, facing up to the Captain. "Sir?"
"Some of your medical supplies," decided the Captain. "Stuff we ain't got no use for. Get rid of it."
"Yes, sir."
"And as for the rest of ye," muttered the Captain, his eyes swivelling around the crew. "You know how to act when we pull into port. Get me money, and ye'll get yer reward. Dismissed!"
Captain John Guillmore (whilst going through his newly sorted room) had come across a few odd trinkets he'd bought a few years back, when he thought them of very high value. Back on board and miles out to sea, he discovered they were cheap, made to look good, but cheap, worthless garbage.
Now he wanted his money back.
It was common knowledge that you could not only buy anything in Kyoshi- you could sell anything. Of course, the bothersome Navy kept their tabs, but as it was, Kyoshi was a very low-key security area. Crime thrived- petty theft alongside fully organised asassination teams (MI25 sprang to mind as a leading agency) swarmed to it.
Not to mention, it was a great hiding place.
For anything... or anyone...
Captain Guillmore had assembled his crew before the shining Ship's Bell. This was the meeting place. The Captain rang the bell once, and the whole crew was assembled in five minutes flat. And if they didn't, there were dire consequences...
The Captain stood looking down at them now, his wild blue eyes dancing with a sort of feverish excitement. Soon he would be clutching fistfuls of money in his greedy hands... soon he would be just that little bit richer, and those who stood before him now... his pawns if you like, were help him get there.
"Crew!" he barked, in his usual abrupt and direct manner. "As a select few of you already know, we will be pulling into Kyoshi as soon as tomorrow if the weather is in our favour. There, I will be selling some old... ah... posessions of mine. You!" he suddenly snapped, pointing ferociously at a small girl at the front of the crowd.
She immediately jumped to attention. "Captain?"
"That's Captain Guillmore," he growled. "That, sir, or master may be better suited to the likes of you. I wish for you to clean up my possessions. Make 'em gleam. Make some real rich fella' fall over in shock at just how shiny they are."
"Yes... master."
He arched an eyebrow. "Don't make a bollocks of this, lass, or I swear you'll be at the bottom of Davy Jone's Locker within a week from now."
The girl hung her head, silent once more.
"You, lad," he said suddenly, turning on a boy at the back of the crowd. "Ye've got a good crop of hair, don't you?"
"Aye, sir," said the lad, standing up tall at being addressed directly. "Me mam always said- "
"Cut it off."
"Wh- what...?"
"Cut it off," repeated the Captain, his lip curling. "You'll make a fine wig for some poor balding chap."
The boy paled slightly, but nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."
For who dared disagree with the Captain?
"Ye do too," he muttered, looking over at another lad, "and you," he now turned his attention on a girl with thick red hair. "Cut it off. Cut it all off."
The response was simultaneous.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, sir."
"My pleasure, sir."
"Good," he smiled. "Now... Dr Phillips?"
Phil stepped out of the crowd, facing up to the Captain. "Sir?"
"Some of your medical supplies," decided the Captain. "Stuff we ain't got no use for. Get rid of it."
"Yes, sir."
"And as for the rest of ye," muttered the Captain, his eyes swivelling around the crew. "You know how to act when we pull into port. Get me money, and ye'll get yer reward. Dismissed!"
