Activity Check - October 7-14

[Arthur Kirkland]

Hey everyone! I apologize for the slightly delayed Activity Check!

England: Gentleman Arthur

Sept 30, 2012 19:51:03 GMT -8 Arthur Kirkland said:

Back into the comfortable leather and cotton that made up his everyday ship clothes, Arthur felt perfectly at ease aboard his new Lady. The military uniform he'd been provided - and the certificate that made him technically part of the military enough to be Captain of one of their ships - lay in a crumpled pile at the foot of his bed and would probably remain there until he landed at their next port and had a chance to either sell the clothes for cash or toss them in the ocean. He was thinking Tortuga would be a good place to replace his unwanted crew.

Taking a deep swig of brandy, Arthur plonked heavily into the padded chair that was nailed down in front of his personal desk. It always took a bit of alcohol in him to get his sea legs back and used to the dip and sway of the ship - and even more than that when he went onto land for the first time after weeks at sea so he could still feel that sway on land. He couldn't feel too bitter about his situation (currently indebted to the Navy, captaining a ship run by said aspect of the military and doing their dirty work by hunting his own kind) now that the ship was out to sea and slowly escaping from the influence of direct Royal intervention. Everything felt much more acceptable when he was out on the waters - like he was at home and invincible and he could make anything he want happen so long as there was a sword in one hand, a gun in the other and alcohol in his secret stash.

A sharp rap at his door brought him out of his musings and back to the present. "Sir, all the officers are gathered." His First's voice gloated through the thick wood of the door. Arthur could practically hear the implied 'and waiting on you, you lazy, pathetic excuse for a fake captain'. He grinned, wondering silently how long it would take to get the man to release his pent up aggression. It must burn to be second fiddle to a man who got a piece of paper that put him ahead of years of service and training. Thought Arthur would give the rule-abiding prick some due - he certainly kept his anger at the situation well hidden behind his blank face and polite words.

Tossing back the last of his drink, Arthur carefully stowed the rest of the decanter away in its padded case before getting to his feet, grabbing his coat and heading for the door. The table of the meeting room was bolted to the center of the room and comfortably sat all his officers. Most of the men and women sat with straight-backed precision, crew cuts and stony expressions. It made him stand out like a blue jay amongst a murder of crows. And if that was a sobering thought, it reminded him that they probably would murder him if they found out he was a pirate and fully planned on returning to piracy once the whole privateering act wore out.

Well then. Good evening everyone. Please do not bother to salute, I really don't require that kind of subservience," he said, not-so-privately amused as he caught them halfway standing and about to salute before awkwardly sitting back down, looking perturbed. "We don't have much to talk about - in fact, most of this involves me telling you stuff and you doing it because despite my lack of military training, the Queen of England herself made me Captain of this ship and you will be aiding me or getting the hell off my ship at the next port. Are we clear?" He smiled brightly, awaiting grumbling and injured pride abound.

Macau - GamblingLord

Oct 1, 2012 18:07:19 GMT -8 Arthur Kirkland said:

It took several minutes of uncontrolled shaking and deep choking breaths before Cai was even the slightest bit capable of replying. The image in his head screamed that he was going to be punished at any moment. The face and voice slowly shifted from someone with a European accent to an Asian one as the brief, fevered hallucination stepped back briefly. Long enough for him to catch his breath and realize just how ill he was. Miserably he noted that barring a miracle, he wasn't going to be capable of leaving the bed he was in for a long time, let alone do anything to convince the man sitting before him he had any real value worth keeping.

"I...", he hesitated, choking on his own air as his mind sped feverishly away trying to think of even one way to argue in his favor. "Cai. My name is Cai... Chaves." It sadly took him a moment to remember his own last name, foreign sounding though it was. He'd had no need for it, it had almost slipped away like the faces of his parents and most of his childhood memories.

For a brief moment his mind switched from thoughts of how to save himself to wondering what had happened to his parents. They'd been there when the masked men had dragged him away - were they still alive? Were they looking for him? Had they given up hope - maybe adopted another child? Moved back to their home country of Portugal to live with his grandparents like they'd always talked about doing 'when he was older'? It ate at him, giving him something to worry about aside from his own situation and he clung to it with all the desperation of someone who needed to stop thinking about their present pain and focus on any goal to stay sane. If he survived - if this Captain didn't take him back (claimed that he couldn't bring him back either way? Did he have enough luck that that was even possible?) he would find out what happened to his parents.

Hungary: LadyHedervary

Elizaveta was trying her hardest not to black out though the way the world was fading in and out she was very much afraid she was about to pass out entirely. Only the deep seated knowledge that if she let go now the chances of her living would be drastically reduced and the admittedly horrific pain was keeping her from tipping over that edge. If she'd had the energy to spare, she would have laughed at the irony that the Admiral's obsession with owning her would be her unexpected end when she had been so dead set on ending him in a so-far unplanned gruesome design.

And suddenly there was pink in her vision and for a moment she thought it was a hallucination brought on by blood loss. Blinking hard to clear her vision didn't work but the buzzing in her ears refined itself into a voice and with a sudden realization, she saw the blond hair of the young girl she'd been trying to get to run away. Elizaveta couldn't help it - she laughed wetly, despite how painful she knew it would be.

"Still haven't run away yet?" She asked, her words starting to slur together. "You... should go before they get here. Doubt they'd let you get away, miss." And that would be all her fault too wouldn't it? Her servants had all been arrested or fled, her family harassed for knowing her. Why would anyone showing her concern be allowed to get away?

A fresh wave of pain overtook her, forcing her to relax the pressure on her wound. She'd never felt pain as intense as this before and that was from an extensive history of being stabbed by a sword, breaking her ankle as a child and monthly cramps. Note to self, she thought fuzzily, next time don't get shot.

[Principality Of Wy]

Andorra (microandorra)

Oct 5, 2012 19:01:24 GMT -8 Andorra said:

Eyes bright and wide, she tilted her head as she stared at Afonso wheeling in the large crate. Out of all the plans she came up with (which were few and fantasy based), this one in particular she didn't think of. After initial shock, a small giggle escaped her lips.

"Ahaha, just like in the movies!"

Luckily, Anaïs was rather petite, so fitting in the crate seemed easy. 'Seemed' being the key word. It was true; he had lined the crate with pillows and there was a small blanket; he left one side of the crate clear, for air assumably.

She took a deep breath. "Well, here goes..."

She got on her knees and crawled inside, hitting the wall of the crate sooner than she'd hoped. With half her body still outside, she pulled herself to the corner, hitting her head a couple of times in the process. She folded her legs in, and hugged them as soon as they were awkwardly inside. A bit of fidgeting and rolling over, she managed to get into a somewhat comfortable position. The pillows definitely helped, but it was still cramped and claustrophobic. She turned to lie on her side, keeping her head towards the top where the air was coming from. This was as good as it was going to get.

"O-okay, ready!" she squeaked, and she decided that she should roll onto her back, which proved to be much more comfortable. Afonso gave her a reassuring smile, but perhaps he was also repressing a laugh. She probably looked pretty ridiculous. He closed the opening, and then it went dark for her.

He opened the door and began wheeling the small pirate out of her cell.

Germany (Germanlud)

Jul 22, 2012 14:54:51 GMT -8 Deutschland said:

The red hot rage began to simmer down into a cooler, more painful shame, his laughter dying in his throat. Horrible as he was, Gilbert was his brother, and he had nearly killed him. Heh, a quiet voice in the back of his head said, killing someone you didn't mean to kill. You know all about that, don't you?

He blinked, shuddering at the thought.

He could only glare at Gilbert. He certainly didn't find anything amusing. He rubbed his temples, a new headache blossoming. This is what he had to look forward to, from now on. Waking up every morning to look at walls of wood, being thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by a crew that he didn't know and would never like, and standing beside a brother who took everything from him. That was Ludwig, summed up in his own words. It was pathetic.

He listened to the plan. At least they would be traveling around, something Ludwig had wanted to do for a long time. Although it was a part of his retirement plan, and he wanted to go with his hypothetical wife, not his idiot brother.

"I don't care," he said at last, "I don't care where we go. But you'd best find an actual crew. You can hover over Germany all you like, but you can't man the ship by yourself." He turned, and walked towards the door, only stopping once to turn around. "You are alone. I'll be in my room. Don't bother me." He walked out of the room and shut the door, and stayed in his room for many days without coming out.

Slovenia (slovenianwitch)

Oct 3, 2012 19:23:25 GMT -8 Slovenia said:

Moleman reacted as soon as he felt the syringe inside his neck; he swung his hand as fast as he could towards her face. He did manage contact, but she moved her head away quick enough for his hand to slide off her cheek, minimizing damage. The only thing that hurt was one of Moleman's fingernails managed a small scratch across her cheek. Annoyed, Danica shoved his head towards the floor, and by the time his head cracked against the wood, the sedative had dulled his movements. It wasn't too long before he was out like a light.

She quickly checked his pulse, just to make sure. His heartbeat was slow, but still strong enough.

She rubbed her throbbing cheek. It didn't hurt too much, but there was a tenderness to the scratch. She went to her bag, too distracted to notice the fighting behind her, and rubbed some disinfectant just to be sure. Who knows what was underneath their gunky fingernails.

Noticing the gun Inuk had kicked to her, she picked it up and held it close. Speaking of him, how was he faring?

She heard a crash behind her; Inuk had pinned Gunman down on the table. She turned around and watched, amused at what Inuk growled. She noticed that his usual charm had vanished completely. All that was left was a rigid, icy language that even she would admit to being leery of. Well, as long as she wasn't his target ever. But even so, a cold tundra suited him just as much as his flirtatious tendencies.

How she knew that for a fact without knowing him at all, she did not know.

She walked over, standing beside him. "Under control. He won't be moving for a few hours."

She eyed Gunman, his eyes wide looking back and forth from her to Inuk. His chest was moving up and down rapidly. She smiled at him, but it was not a kind smile. "Your friend will make it, by the way. Provided he takes it easy and, better yet, goes to a proper hospital. Though I cannot say for sure he will be fine after. Addiction tends to be a cruel mistress."

Wy (wytheartist)

Sept 13, 2012 15:20:14 GMT -8 Principality Of Wy said:

She ignored James' cries for her to stop, content on executing her superior youthful athletics. She was better than James in every way; speed, intelligence, and she was way cuter than him too. She could find a job one hundred percent better than him; all adults must have a part of their brain removed when they grow up, because her parents couldn't find jobs either. All you had to do was go to a business and ask for a job, right? Easy.

She took several short cuts through the city; climbing over fences, jumping, crawling through every nook and cranny. She stopped at the town's largest restaurant/bar as she ran by. A lightbulb turned on in her head. She could be a dishwasher or even a potato peeler or something. Bonus was that she could sneak scraps from the kitchen too. See? Easy. And possibly delicious.

Taking a deep breath, she flung the doors open brazenly, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Hey! I needa job! Who wants t' hire me?!"

Silence greeted her, followed by fast whispers. She folded her arms and stood her ground, she wouldn't wuss out like a certain someone. "I'm awesome at workin'! Can do anythin' I put my mind ta! I dun care what I do, s'long as I'm paid some!"

A young waiter nervously hugged his tray to his chest. He extended one arm toward her, "Uh...kid-"

A husky voice interrupted him from the side. "Don't care what ya do? Even if it's hard work?" Sydney twirled towards the source. A scruffy man with long black pointed whiskers and full beard, wearing a long black cloak sat at a table, bemused at the spectacle. He was smoking a pipe and stared at her with dark grey eyes.

"I dun mind how hard it is, s'long as I'm paid," she said confidently.

He barked a laugh. "Good attitude! What do you say girl, I might have somethin' ta offer ya..."

Sydney smiled. See James?

It was the waiter's turn to pipe up, his alarm bells set off. "Now just hold on a minute sir, I don't know what you are offering her, but she's just a child! There will be no shady business here!"

"Hey, shaddup!" Sydney yelled.

The man in the cloak snorted at the waiter, but briskly got up and walked out of the restaurant. The waiter shook his head, then looked at Sydney sympathetically. "Look kid, I'm sorry, but there just isn't any work for you here, or in this town. You are too young to have a job. Just go home."

That hit her hard. Clenching her fists, she walked up and kicked the waiter in the shins. He yelped, but she didn't care. She immediately ran off, intending to follow the man in the black cloak. He was her ticket to a better life.

[Im Yong Soo~!]

ModsOIKYK: -MAKES A DESPERATE DIVE-

Gyeolmal--North Korea

Oct 3, 2012 12:32:41 GMT -8 Im Yong Soo~! said:

Tae Hyun frowned slightly, turning the name over and over in his mind, like a coin of indeterminate worth.

Cai Chaves, Cai Chaves…

No use, it was completely unfamiliar. He’d never heard the name before in his life, and something about it just…didn’t fit. Like it was too small for who this person was supposed to be.

‘Who exactly that is, I can’t even guess,’ he thought irritably. The strong sense of familial affection still had not faded, making Tae Hyun more than a little uneasy, especially since it was still clearly one-sided. The Korean forcibly filed his discomfort for later prying as he turned to regard the maddeningly familiar face. Speculation could wait—right now, there were rules to be laid in place.

“In Libertalia, I am Captain Im Tae Hyun,” he started briskly, “Captain will suffice while you are onboard my vessel. Once you recover, you will be put to work based on what you can handle and what skills you acquire.

“While you’re aboard the Lucky Dragon, you are a member of her crew, and I will treat you as such until you give me reason not to.” Tae Hyun gave the Macanese boy the full weight of his gaze, firm and unyielding. “I have no use for insubordination. Become a problem and you will be dealt with.”

Once he was certain Cai appreciated the warning, Tae Hyun’s expression shifted, more solemn than striking. He spoke again, almost without meaning to: “But if you have a problem, know that I’ll protect you.”

There was that nagging sympathy again, twisting his words. And for what? Cai wouldn’t believe him yet. He had been broken too badly. The Korean’s eyes became inscrutable as he drove the momentary softness away. “When we next make port, you are free to go. If you work hard enough, you will receive pay to keep.”

This was a generous offer, considering the circumstances, and Tae Hyun knew it. He also knew what it was like to be young, alone, and hungry, and if Cai was willing to help himself Tae Hyun would help him.

Tae Hyun stood, tucking his curl back behind his ear. “I’ll go over this again when you recover. For now, focus on that.”

There were still so many questions, so little answers, but the Korean knew he needed to round up his recruitment speech. As it stood, he was lucky if the Macanese youth hadn’t passed out yet. The Captain made to leave, but spared one last glance at the boy’s injuries, catching gazes again.

“Whatever you’re leaving behind, Cai-gun, leave it,” he advised. “Only carry what you need to keep going. That’s something I had to learn when I was your age.”

Before he could implicate himself further, Tae Hyun turned for the door.

Gun: Honorific for young men

Wonsanji--South Korea

Oct 3, 2012 8:58:49 GMT -8 Im Yong Soo~! said:

Yong Soo bit his lip at the heartbroken sound of the brunet’s voice, shaking his head side to side again as he regarded the mess as well. ‘Poor guy,’ he thought, remembering a few nights in the distant past the Korean himself had gone hungry. It was understandable that desperation turned the man into a thief.

Feeling the weight in his sleeve again, Yong Soo remembered that he was actually in a position to help the man. He was just about to offer to buy the guy a meal when the Mediterranean suddenly became a babbling mess of begging, brown eyes imploring and clasped hands flailing.

The Asian blinked, distancing himself slightly from the slightly uncomfortable display, and waved his own sleeves back and forth. “Ai, nulida!” he exclaimed, mouth smiling in an attempt to calm the other down. “It’s alright, da ze, I was going to offer. Now, uh, please get up?”

He offered his sleeve to the tanned man, letting his smile grow. “My name is Yong Soo. Do you know where we could buy something good? Maybe to eat while walking—I need to get back aboard my ship.”

((Honey you got nothing to worry about, promise. -patpat-))

Nulida: Slow down

IsaroqQorsuk--Greenland

Sept 24, 2012 10:07:33 GMT -8 Inuk Rasmussen said:

“This and that, got it,” the Greenlander nodded, placing his hands in his pockets and deliberately not looking at the Gunman. He’d be only too happy to follow up on that.

Inuk didn’t even try to hide his snickering after the Moleman’s alarmed yelp, and even if the Gunman didn’t seem terribly impressed Danica seemed to take it in stride. Inuk smirked at the Moleman as the smaller man shoved the Slovene’s bag forward, daring him to make a fuss. Moleman opted for prudence, unfortunately, and tried his hardest to pretend the Inuit wasn’t there.

Danica set to work, stoically bearing the scrutiny of the room’s other occupants. Moleman winced as the Slovene jabbed the needle in, apparently squeamish at the sight. Gunman was the first to move forward, Moleman following shortly to watch the clinic stitch. Inuk insinuated himself behind both men, seeking both a good vantage point for Danica’s operations and a prime place to be when it came time to deal with “this and that.”

He did spare a moment to inwardly commend the Slovene on her stitching, though. As a leatherworker himself, he could appreciate technical skill when he saw it.

Inuk was already moving past the Gunman’s right before Danica finished her command, mouth quirking slightly at the tacked on nicety. He sat the injured man up with some mercy, even if the guy was too out of it to care, and helped hold down or pull taut the bandages any time Danica prompted. A moment later he snorted, giving voice to a passing thought: “Guess this makes me the nurse, huh?” he joked. “Too bad they don’t have any cute dresses my size.”

Danica didn’t comment, but she didn’t look offended either. Inuk let her take hold of the patient once she was finished wrapping up, standing slowly while discreetly fishing the Military knife from his boot. Palming the blade against his thigh, Inuk’s gaze focused on the Gunman as the Mole moved closer to Danica and her sedative.

Curious, moleman asked, "What is that for?"

"It's a medicine that will make his skin meld together to help him heal faster," she lied. Inuk repressed the urge to snort as Moleman turned to her with a skeptic look.

"Really??"

She frowned. "No." Then she plunged the sedative into his neck.

Not wasting a second after Danica’s strike Inuk grabbed the Gunman’s gun arm and jerked him off balance, disrupting his aim before the other could even gather his wits to shoot. Inuk then wrapped his arm further around the Gunman’s, simultaneously pulling the man further off balance and into the Inuit. Using the disorientation to his advantage, the Greenlander cracked the pommel of his knife hard over the man’s wrist.

The Gunman dropped the gun with a startled shout, allowing the Inuit to quickly kick it aside with the edge of his boot, aiming to slide it toward Danica. Finally, he raised his knife-clenched fist and viciously punched the Gunman’s throat, taking pleasure in the added force the handle drove behind his knuckles.

The Gunman went from startled to wheezing in less than a few seconds, coughing haggardly with eyes bulging. When Inuk abruptly released him he staggered back, hand instinctively to throat. Inuk turned to face him head on, not giving the Gunman time to recover as he grabbed the other’s shoulder and slammed him hard into the nearby table, holding the blade to his throat and nicking past the man’s fingers.

Inuk loomed into the Gunman’s space, eyes glacial, and bared his teeth in a wolf’s grimace. “How’s the metal feel from this end?” he asked quietly, voice oddly casual if cold. The Gunman tried not to gasp too heavily, his face gray and eyes bloodshot as his fingers twitched, too stunned to move.

The Inuit pressed lightly on the blade and clenched his fingers tighter into the other’s shoulder, not taking his eyes off his prey as he called back, “I got this, how are things with that?”

DMadameDoktor--Luxembourg
N/A
We STILL need to fix that.

;;