Crews of the Open Breeze RP

[Groddil]

OOC: I was being snarkastic.

BIC:

Verenya sat in her cabin, inspecting the map. It eventually pointed to an island, quite far away from their current location. Reaching it would be difficult, especially if there were others that also knew about the treasure. Suddenly, she felt the need for a victory drink. The vixen rose, shrugging off her belt of weaponry. There were no other ships in sight, she was safe. Or was she? Verenya reached down, making sure she still had a dagger strapped to her leg. Just in case. If anything happened, the first mate would be responsible. She knew that much. The vixen shoved open her door and crossed the deck to the fo'c'sle. She peered through the hatch, which was slightly ajar. The mate was there, drinking and playing some sort of shell game with other crewmembers. Satisfied, she ducked past the fo'c'sle and ducked below decks. Verenya whistled an old pirate tune as she made her way towards the far wall of the bottom deck. She began rolling barrels aside, just a hairs breadth from Mechi's hideaway.
"Grog, grog, ale, grog...Where's that good cask o' red grapejuice wine?"
Verenya's paw reached over Mechi's head, almost touching it.
"Oh, there 'tis!"
The vixen snatched a little cask from a pile of barrels and walked off, whistling again. Then, one of the barrels she had moved fell to the ground.
"'Ang on, what was dat?"
Verenya dropped the cask and drew her dagger.
"Is somebeast 'ere? Hidin' in th' barrels an' waitin' ta stab me in th' back? Come out, or I'll gut ye!"

[Gonff the Mousethief]

OOC: You know, a wet rag. I guess I worded it wrong seeing as how you can't use a wet rag on a tad, but my original meaning for it was just for Coop to grab Marshall a wet rag while he went to polish something up. So sorry about that Galli.

[Aimless Gallivanter]

OOC: thanks Gonff. still not sure what you mean by a tad.

"Aye, Cap'n," Coop went to fetch Marshall the rag. He was
used to his strange requests by now, having been with him in his privateering days as well. He found a pile of rags, amd tried to find the cleanest one. Marshall valued cleanliness. "This one'll 'ave ta do," he muttered to himself. He dunked it in some water and set off to find the captain. "'ere ya are, Cap'n." The rag was dripping wet.

[Eulaliaaa!]

  Little Seadog shot a murderous glance at the back of the retreating Alfonso. She glared challengingly at the rat, kicking the rope towards him. "I ne'er said I was a part o' th'crew, rat. I'm jus' a tag along. So why am I doin' yer work?"

  The rat took a step back. "Er, nah I ne'er said ye was gonna do that, matey. Leave it ter me... er... er..."

  "Th' names Little Seadog," replied the ferret. "Ye can call me Seadog."

  "Lovely name, that is," the rat laughed a little. "Er, I go by th' name Snaggleclaw."

  Seadog turned away. "I ne'er said I cared," she said as she walked away to get some grog. As she went, she saw one of the crewbeasts taking a wet rag to the Captain. She decided to watch and listen from a distance to see what was going on. If was her business after all, she wasn't a crewbeast and didn't have to follow any rules.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

OOC: Basically just for a little bit, like getting a napkin or something.

BIC: "Thank y'Coop! Now, ensure everybeast on 'ere knows we b'leavin' in less than a half hour!"
The Blue Fox took the soaking cloth from his old mates hand and started towards the stern. When he arrived, standing just in front of the wheel was an odd ornament. It was a large clump of iron forged into what looked like a fox tail, with it bending up and curving much like that of the cunning creatures. Marshall leaned over the very back of the boat and began to polish it. Soon enough, it was shining bright in the mid-morning sun.
"Ol' Irony, y'be lookin' fine for a nice lil' voyage t'day!"
He had gotten the odd addition forged by the Badger Lord of Salamandastron only a few months before renaming the ship and setting a sail as a pirate. Marshall could not get over the humorous aspect of it. Or, the Irony of the situation. A blue captain with no tail leading a ship named The Blu Tale with its own tail was just amusing to the "unique" fox.
But after the quick polish up, he tossed the rag in a nearby bucket and stood triumphantly by his silver encrusted wheel. The blue sails looked awfully dashing in the wind. The crew worked all knowing how close their goal now was. The deck below where the fox stood glistened in the sparkling sun rays. The wind even, crashing into everybeast in sight tasted with a glimpse of hope. Oh, how amazing! Within the hour, the The Blu Tail would be off, and on the greatest sail it had ever experienced.

[LT Sandpaw]

Cresting the wheel deck Alfonso ambled over to the captain glancing over the back of the ship curiously. "Ah, a tail. I should have guessed. Still, polishing is grunt work Cap'n, we've talked about this, find somebeast else to do it." Turning back around the blonde ferret leaned against railing watching his captain for orders.
"I don' know where ye wrangled these new crew members from, but they be the biggest load o' lay'abouts I've seen on deck. Lookie there." He pointed out a young weasel who was standing by the prow with an enormously ridiculous grin on his face. "I've punished that blighter two times now, th' bloody idiot is just standing around grinning like a mole at a feast instead o' swabbing the deck. And there, lookie there." He pointed out Little Seadog, "I swears I just gave her the order to hang up that blue rope. An' she sure ain't doing that. I'm telling ye Cap'n, I'm 'bout ready to bring out the cat on these sea scum."

[Gonff the Mousethief]

"What trouble be it t'do some good ol' work like this eh?" Marshal responded. "What be a king if he didn't go t'war with his men, or a Badger Lord trainin' with his hares. Ah, w'bout an Abbot not going on walks with those lil' Dibbuns o' his, hmm? Never 'urts t'do some work for y'own every once and a while Alf."
The blue fox surveyed below and he listened to the complaints of his First Mate.
"Firstly, what be if I didn't get these 'ere greenies, hmm? Well, out crew would be little away from that of a merchant vessel! And don't blame all o' them. See me teeth, don't ye? 'Cause we be going after that treasure Alf! Now, I will gather all of us out tonight near midnight for a good ol' pep talk, how 'bout it?"
But just as he stopped talking, Marshall gazed and saw Little Seadog, while a smile greater than that formed from the hunt came grew on his blue furred face.
"Say Alf, y'know the ol' sayin', "If y'want somethin' done, gotta do it y'self?" Well, I see that Lil' Seadog down there not doing anything. So, 'ow 'bout you go get it hung y'self? Riggin' ain't that bad o' of a job."
Marshall gave his First Mate a good pat on the back and headed back down to the main deck. But as he started down the stairs, he called back out to Alfonso, "Cap'n's orders mate! Gotta get somebody to get the grunt work done!"

[LT Sandpaw]

"Aye Cap'n," Alfonso responded, his face icy enough to freeze ocean water. "Isn't that why we bother brining th' new lads at all? Grunt work." He muttered to himself once Marshall was well out of earshot. Adjusting his sword the First Mate descended the wheel deck crossing the busy ship just looking for an excuses to get angry. He soon had the grinning weasel working again with a few slaps of his paw. Any other pirate who dared not work their hardest Alfonso would stride towards, an angry glint in his eye. It would be enough for said pirate to begin working in earnest.

Finally he passed the prow where the lone rat he had charged with tying up the rope was still trying to work out how he would manage such a thing. "Give that there to me," Alfonso ordered snatching up one frayed end. "Ye crawl out on the prow an' tie that at the very end, I'll climb the mast."

"Aye sir," The rat said shimming out on to the prow.

"What's yer name lad?" Alfonso asked as the rat struggled up the prow.

"Snaggleclaw sir, I-"

"Well move yerself Snagglewotsit!" Alfonso roared looping his end of the rope around his shoulder. "I don' have all day to wait on ye. Time is gold, an' ye are costing me gold by moving one inch at a time! If'n ye fall ye fall in water, so hurry it up 'afore I get me sword out!"

"Aye sir, aye, aye sir!" Snaggleclaw shouted standing up and running to the end of the prow where he proceeded to tie the rope down. Nodding in satisfaction Alfonso turned and scaled the foremast as a squirrel would climb a tree. His claws digging into the wood, as the wind pulled at his fur. He reached the upper spar and sat down, knotting the rope carefully just above the spar. He rested for a moment, breathing the salty air, looking out over the port and sea.

[Hickory]

Longclaw came awake from his headached slumber, to find the ship going into action. Fitting his sword into his belt, the rat hurriedly appeared on deck, rushing over to the first mate. "Reportin' fear duty, sir. What would ye like me t'do?"

[Aimless Gallivanter]

Coop set about his usual setting-sail routine. While not actually being first-mate or having any official authority, being an old friend of Marshall, as well as a surly experienced beast, gave him some authority over most of the crew. That and he flat out scared the newbies. He went about his tasks silently, growling at greenies who got in his way or stood around uselessly. He avoided Alfonso and Aline, since they always aggravated him and he didnt want to get into any fights this early in the voyage. Come to think of it, there were few beasts on this ship who didnt aggravate him to some degree. He finished his work efficiently amd effectively, then went to his bunk. The rat, Longclaw, passed him on the way down. He stank of alcohol too. Looks like it hadnt served him nearly as well as it had Alfonso.

[Eulaliaaa!]

Little Seadog watched Alfonso do the work she had been ordered to do, holding back a smile as he climbed up the foremast. "Good job up there," she called. "Keep up the good work!" She wasn't whether or not she had been heard, but she stood there smiling for several more seconds before she leaned against the railing, silently judging the crew members around her.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

After another brief survey, Marshall headed down towards the main deck. His blue eye landed on Little Seadog. Seeing as how it was one of the crew which Alfonso had complained about, it seemed justified to speak with her. He too leaned up against the rail and stared over at the working crewbeasts.
"Y'name's Lil' Seadog 'ight? Alf over there told me a lil' 'bout ye. Don't 'member actually welcomin' aboard. O' course, I sadly had t'welcome many o' these bumbling scalawags ont'ere. Not t'say you not b'one o' them."
The blue fox quickly stuck out his scarred paw towards her.
"Me name's Marshall Scottsworth. Glad t'welcome ye if y'want t'go a'sailin' with us t'day."

[Fatch of Southsward]

The Stallion's Mane bucked and rolled with the ferocious waves, not unlike an actual stallion. The canvas sails were stretched and taunt, billowing in the gale. Rain battered the deck and crew, as they scrambled around, tending to the ship, urging her on to even greater speeds.

Duncan Ross wiped rain from his face, and swept long auburn hair from his eyes. His slightly tattered clothes flapped in the wind, and his fur was drenched and windswept. He stood at the helm, behind the steersmouse. He looked down with cold blue eyes at the stoat lying wretchedly at his feet.

"Tell me more. How many pirates are after this treasure. How did you find out. Where did you get the map? Surely you must know more!" Demanded Ross.

The stoat below him blubbered - partly from fear and partly because he was half drowning on spray from the storm.

"Told you all I know. On me oath h'I has."

Ross shook his head.

"Well then you are of no further value to me." He bent and made as if to push the stoat into the heaving sea."

The stoat, accepting his fate, went silent. Ross did not push him in.

"Vance, old friend, I think he really has told us all he knows. Take him below deck - the brig if you like."

As the stoat was carried away by Vance the first mate - a tall, well muscled mouse - Ross leaned on the rails. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

If the stoat spoke true, all the powerful pirates would be en route to the treasure. All he had to do was get there first, sink 'em all, and the entire sea and coast would be much less burdened for years.

The treasure itself could also be useful -he pictured, for a moment, an entire fleet under his command. But could he spend pirate gold? Only what was necessary, he thought - the rest would go overboard, to the bottom of the ocean.

[LT Sandpaw]

 Taking hold of a ratline Alfonso swung out over the water sliding down the rope as he did. The ferret landed smoothly on the deck, only a few yards from Little Seadog. Straightening up he cast a weather eye over her, noting the red bandana and sash, much like his.

"Ye know matey, one don' get far on a pirate ship by playin' with th' First Mate." He stroked his scimitar handle, his bright blue eyes shining. "Mayhap we'll keep ye around. Until we aren't so close to shore. If'n a beast isn't pullin' their weight aboard me ship they might just go for a long swim. Say here comes th' Cap'n, make sure ye salute." Nodding to her Alfonso made as if to walk off when Longclaw ran up.

"Aye, there ye are mate." Alfonso clapped the rat on the shoulder digging his claws into his fur. "Your on steering duty, if ye can manage that. An' Longclaw, keep away from th' grog for a bit, ye stink of it."

[Hickory]

The rat nodded. "Yessir, I went a bit overboard las' night in the town."

However the sleep had done him good. Contrary to Alfonso's words, he was ready (mostly) for steering the Blu Tail. Of course, having done the job multiple times before it was a walk in the park.