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       #Post#: 257052--------------------------------------------------
       Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Dems Darkfire Date: August 15, 2012, 11:39 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Bars, broken down buildings, and nothing but rowdy souls hell
       bent on making a living as dishonestly as possible. A normal
       walk down the streets of this bustling Pirate town would cause
       all but the most blackhearted of people cringe with displeasure.
       From the crime ridden buildings to the shitty streets, all call
       this home.
       #Post#: 260170--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Dems Darkfire Date: August 20, 2012, 9:34 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The smell around this vast expanse never really changed. The
       stench heavily bore that of Booze, blood, and booty. Alex only
       enjoyed two of three of these strange things, but none of which
       he obtained from the disease ridden populous of this pirate
       port. No, he had already had his fill from one of the outlaying
       villages he just so happened to visit before making his way back
       here. Though, he knew most of his crew did not leave this vile
       place, he was hoping they had heeded his warning and returned
       from their leave. Soon enough they would be setting sail for a
       new adventure. A letter he had received from a mysterious post
       rider, delivering a map to his hands as he walked down the road.
       Something was off about the idea, but his ambition made such a
       mission a godsend to a ported pirate. He needed to remove
       himself from this area before he became just as bad as the rest
       of the riff raff that inhabited Tortuga.
       #Post#: 263338--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Demonreach Date: August 26, 2012, 4:16 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "Watch yerself there... mister..." Came a drunken slur from one
       Brian Jacques, whose blurry vision couldn't quite make out who
       he had bumped into. His red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes squinted to
       look upon the offending person. He stumbled from leaning too far
       forward, his body hitting the person he had bumped into a few
       moments earlier. This man fell over, elbowing a rather brutish
       man; twice the size of any other patron at the tavern. The small
       beady eyes within the brutes dog-like face narrowed with murder
       and lashed out with a fist to the one who elbowed him; that fist
       struck the still falling man in the throat, sending him into
       coughing fits, a few coughs bringing up blood. This man finally
       fell to the floor with a muffled thump and started coughing some
       more. A half dozen other men jumped up from their seats, hands
       on the hilts of blades and guns as they rushed the giant man who
       had struck their fellow comrade. This, in turn, brought the
       brutes own comrades to the fray. A few individuals left at the
       start but those who hadn't joined in the fighting, comrades
       hitting comrades due to the sudden confusion; hired toughs
       moving in and hitting people across their heads with clubs.
       Glass broke, ale and wine and rum was spilled, men were
       screaming with both excitement and terror as they hit and were
       hit, killing and were killed. All the while one man wove himself
       through this small riot, avoiding everything but the spilled
       drinks. This man was Brian Jacques, the one who started this
       whole thing.
       He bashed a fellows head in with his mug before he picked up
       another one and started to drink it, grinning like a madman as
       he started to sing, a few words being slurred from the drunken
       stupor:
       When I come back from a mighty quest
       I have no need for sleep or rest
       I head to a tavern for a drink
       And get so drunk I cannot think
       A wench by my side, a jug of mead
       These are the things that I most need
       So I sit back and sing this song
       And drink and party all night long
       He ducked under a blade, kicking a person in the side of their
       knee, the snapping of bone being drowned out by his screaming,
       before resuming the song:
       I want more wenches
       Hey Hey
       More wenches and mead
       Hey Hey
       I want more wenches
       Lots of wenches is what I need
       As he neared the door, he threw his mug back into the tavern,
       stumbling backwards as he laughed uproariously before continuing
       on with the song:
       When I come back from a mighty quest
       I have no need for sleep or rest
       I head to a tavern for a drink
       And get so drunk I cannot think
       A wench by my side, a jug of mead
       These are the things that I most need
       So I sit back and sing this song
       And drink and party all night long
       The song continuing on like that for a few more minutes until
       his voice stopped being replaced by broken whistling as he
       stumbled down the streets of the pirate town. Eventually, though
       he wouldn't remember it, his legs would carry him towards the
       Hades Serpent with a few bottles of rum surrounding him as he
       slept.
       #Post#: 263488--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Pandora Date: August 26, 2012, 7:34 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The racket of this place. It was almost enough to drive one
       insane. Scarlet hated being here. She'd seen a few awful ports
       in her days abroad, but Tortuga... It was by far one of the
       worst, if not the worst yet. There wasn't one appealing thing
       about it. To her at least. The men on the Serpent seemed to find
       some sort of trouble to get into here. To each their own, she
       guessed. She never understood what was so wonderful about filth
       and foul disease. Even now as she walked through it's streets.
       The captain was already gone. She watched him wind through the
       streets while still aboard ship. She preferred to be up on deck
       waiting, even if it took hours. Her mind decided that today
       could be somewhat different. Maybe a walk through town would be
       so bad. She was wrong. Now she was circling through the rubbish,
       waiting for her legs to reach the dock. Behind her, a muffled
       ruckus broke out. With it being commonplace for a bar fight to
       happen here, it was almost as though she was the only one who
       was staring at the door. Out burst the drunkard as the commotion
       continued inside, laughing and singing as though he hadn't just
       dodged danger. Scarlet simply crossed her arms, semi-watching as
       they both scattered through the streets.
       Scarlet didn't know it at the time, but they were both headed to
       the same destination. One would just make it before the other.
       By the time Scarlet did reach the ship, her legs were aching.
       Being dreadfully tired didn't help. The only thing that would
       make it worse was some poor soul making it so that she couldn't
       at least lie down. Trekking up the treacherous board that led up
       to the deck, Scarlet kept her head down. It would only be a few
       more steps. Then she could lie down. And possibly sleep a
       little. By the time she reached the door to her small room,
       Scarlet was ready to crawl between her sheets and take her forty
       winks. The only thing preventing her from such a thing, was that
       drunken bastard. Passed out on the floor. In front of her door.
       Scarlet strutted over with a haughty huff and her hands placed
       firmly on her hips. With her boot, she reached over and tapped
       him gently in the side. To no avail, he still slept. Growing
       angry, her foot kicked hard into his thigh, her body putting
       maybe a bit too much effort into it. "Hey you! Don'tcha think
       you should pass out in front of your own damn room?"
       #Post#: 264135--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Demonreach Date: August 27, 2012, 7:45 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The man grunted, opening one bloodshot eye to peer at the one
       who woke him up. One of the gauche that had found its way to his
       hand, which had nearly taken out her femoral artery in her leg,
       vanished beneath his shirt. "Aye, lass... Can't seem ta get me
       sea legs just yet... Damned ship won't stop moving..." His
       voice, which was a deep slur --a voice that could lure even the
       most strong willed woman to bed, his tongue just as skilled even
       without the voice, if said voice and tongue weren't always
       slurring words and in a constant drunken stupor-- trailed off
       for a moment as he grumbled beneath his breath. A sun-darkened
       hand, various white lines, jagged and rough, crisscrossing the
       fingers and the back, reached up to grab at a barrel. It missed
       and his upper body fell over, grunting as he fell. "Blast..." He
       hand nudged one of the bottles, grumbling once more, at length,
       about how it was always empty. He squinted up at the woman,
       "`Ey... Go get me some more..." He words were cut off with a
       rather loud belch. "Go get me some more... rum..." He waved her
       off. Then, he waved her back, "Wait... Just help me up. You can
       bunk with me... Room enough for two... Aye." He rubbed his chest
       before bracing his hands against the wooden planks of the ship
       and rising, slowly, to his feet that way. "Like me ma always
       said, ya ain't drunk till ye can't walk. Or maybe that was me
       pa... Bah! Shut yer trap, wench. Makin' me think 'n' shit..." He
       glared at her, rubbing his grainy eyes.
       Said eyes, after being rubbed, looked at the woman again and a
       smile crossed his face, "Oh-ho... What have we here? Capt'n buy
       us all whores? Yippee..." He straightened his hair or made an
       attempt to; his smile becoming toothy. Brian was a rare pirate
       in that he still had all his teeth. All of which were white. His
       green eyes, all the greener for being bloodshot, blinked slowly
       as if afraid of missing something; if one was into watching
       people, they would notice he hardly blinked. He even slept with
       his eyes open. "Now, had I known this... I would've straightened
       up some... Can't be havin' a bad name for meself with tha
       ladies." He wiggled his eyebrows at her before winking, marching
       off, yelling over his shoulder, "Come, wench!"
       And so, he stumbled off, forgetting the woman, as he sang in a
       drunken slur, crashing into walls, barrels, and crates along the
       way. But, Brian would be back, for he is going the wrong way to
       his cabin. Most of the time, he wondered if he had ever slept in
       that place. Either way, someone would find his body collapsed
       topside in the crow's nest.
       #Post#: 264143--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Dems Darkfire Date: August 27, 2012, 8:12 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Alex managed to show up just in time to hear the frenzied shouts
       of one of his new seafarers screaming towards one of his other
       men. The woman's loud voice booming from the open door on deck.
       With a shake of his head, Bird flew off his shoulder and up onto
       the deck, hopping around a moment before slipping into the open
       door to scream at the two people. "AVAST! AVAST! CAPT"N
       APPROACHIN! CAPT'N APROACHIN!" The giant purple bird was
       startling to most, but the rustling in the other bunks of the
       great ship told whole heartedly that the thing was not lying.
       Men funneled out of the rooms and towards the deck as the mighty
       bird flapped it's wings and took off back outside.
       Dropping his pack onto the deck, the loud thud gave testament to
       the arrival of the captain. The thunderous roars of the crew,
       giving praise to their captain, rose high above the gunshots and
       screaming that came from the port just feet away from them. "AYE
       MEN! DID WE HAVE A GOOD LEAVE?" The cries once more arose as
       Bird took his place upon the mast's crossbeam, watching from
       high above as Alex chuckled at his men. "GOOD! Now get these
       damn supplies on board and into the storage deck! MOVE IT YOU
       SWASHBUCKLERS! BEFORE I HAVE ALL YE WALKING THE PLANK!"
       #Post#: 264159--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Demonreach Date: August 27, 2012, 8:40 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       A few feet up the mast where the crow's nest waited for his
       sleeping body, Brian fell down with a grunt. "Damnit all to
       hell! Why'd ya have ta do that, Capt'n? Had me a fine time, I
       had. With that wench..." He peered about, doing a few circles
       around the place he had fallen upon, rubbing his backside. "Oh
       my arse... Now, where did she go? Sod it all. If ya can't rely
       on whores, what can ye rely on?" He brushed back the matted
       brown hair that had fallen into his face; his red-rimmed eyes
       peering about suspiciously. "Damned Bird... Oh, he'll get it, he
       will. Cook'em up nice and good, I will. Teach him to go around,
       waking up the dead..." His muttering grew faint as he left to do
       the task the Capt'n had, his stumbling no longer there; his gait
       more confident and steady. Though, he walked sober, he didn't
       talk it. "... And then, oh yes, and then, I will..." He stopped
       and looked at one of his comrades. "What? N'v'r talked to
       yerself 'fore? Get ta loading, ya cursed fool! Wouldn't want to
       walk the plank in these waters, no sirree. That thur 'ater has
       some mean lil' fishes that'll eat ya own cock before ye have
       time to call fer help.." And so, with this morbid piece, he
       began to tell those around him about how those "lil' fishes"
       would attract other fish, larger and even meaner; some so small
       to swim straight into your own ass! "... but ye don't want to
       start strugglin', oh no! By me me's left tit, don't do that! Ya
       see, that jus' makes it wers... Aye! I know. Ye were all
       thinkin' to yerself that it couldn't but ye's are all wrong,
       ye's are!" He bellowed out a hearty, drunken laugh, which ended
       in a long, loud belch, as a few of the weaker stomached emptied
       their bellies.
       But, Brian's story shifted to a song, that he sang heartily and
       merrily, encouraging others to join in:
       "The time has come, the time for a drink, but I don't want
       whiskey or gin.
       There's only one drink that gets me so drunk, until my head
       starts to spin.
       Far to the west under tropical sun, this mystical drink is
       brewed.
       On our mission to get totally drunk, we have got nothing to
       lose.
       Rum is the power, Rum is the key, Rum is the thing that will set
       us free
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Give me more Rum!
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Give me more Rum!
       The time has come, the time for a drink, but I don't want vodka
       or mead.
       None of these things will quench my thirst, Rum is the drink
       that I need.
       Questing the oceans and questing the seas, searching for
       ultimate booze.
       On our mission to get totally drunk, we have got nothing to
       lose.
       Rum is the power, Rum is the key, Rum is the thing that will set
       us free
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Give me more Rum!
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Give me more Rum!
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum, Ahoy.
       Rum, Rum, Rum, Yaarr, Rum, Rum
       Hey!"
       While he sang, he started to move the crates of supplies,
       swinging his load as he danced around his comrades, singing. At
       the end, he barked, "Alright, lads! Time to start singin' or I
       swear by the Capt'n's purple jacket, I will have ye workin'
       double time on oars!" He stopped in his merry dance to stare at
       those around him.
       "The time has come, the time for a drink, but I don't want
       whiskey or gin. There's only one drink that gets me so drunk,
       until my head starts to spin. Far to the west under tropical
       sun, this mystical drink is brewed. On our mission to get
       totally drunk, we have got nothing to lose..."
       This time, as he sang, the others joined him. He smiled to
       himself as he made his way up to the ship with his first, and
       last, box.
       #Post#: 264348--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Pandora Date: August 28, 2012, 2:48 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Scarlet glared him down, her eyes as cold as ice as her trigger
       happy hand laid on the pistol at her hip. First he passed out in
       front of her door. Now he had the bollocks to almost stab her?
       She should have just ended him there. He was fortunate that she
       was a bit slower today than usual. Her eyes glanced at the ships
       wooden walls as he complained about it's movements. "It's a
       ship. It moves." Fixing the bandana that covered the top of her
       head, her eyes kept to him. "Are you moving, or do I have to
       move you?" Her small hands curved back around her hips as one
       jutted to the side in wait. Green orbs narrowed to mere slits as
       he spoke, his tone and mannerisms toward her now on her last
       nerve. If he didn't notice her here in the three weeks she had
       been, he was more of an idiot than she'd first realized. She
       wasn't a prostitute. And she surely wasn't "bunking" with him.
       He couldn't even see past his own nose. As he stumbled off, she
       hurried up and into her room, before he could remember that she
       was there.
       With everything out of the way, Scarlet flopped on her bed.
       Before long, she was comfortable enough that her eyelids started
       drooping. Darkness overcame the room as the water below rocked
       the wooden vessel. Just as the shadowy spots danced before the
       dark canvas set down for them, a squawk and a ruckus came from
       the higher levels. "So much for a bit of rest..." Scarlet
       sighed. She pushed herself away from the mattress and urged
       herself up onto deck. A good portion of the men were too
       engrossed in a story to be bothered with lugging chests, boxes,
       and barrels on board. Oh well. Their problem, definitely not
       hers. If anything, it gave her a chance to make them look bad as
       she carried box after box and each chest that she humanly could
       on her own. Pulling one up, she glared at them as she passed,
       making carrying a chest that had to weigh at least 80 pounds
       look like air. "Oh please, I've fallen in before." Scoffing, she
       rolled her eyes at the men who actually believed they'd be
       ripped apart by those fish. She just wanted to be able to take a
       nap as soon as time would allow. And if having to pick up the
       work of a few men, and make them look like women themselves,
       then she would do it. Not that she actually had to prove herself
       too much. She'd already done that, for the most part. It wasn't
       long before they were done either. Now all she had to do was
       wait until they were off and completely settled in without
       anymore work to be done. Then, she could rest.
       #Post#: 266221--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Arcelia Date: August 31, 2012, 7:29 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The stench of sweat, blood, booze, and sex wafted into Arcelia's
       nostrils as she took in a breath before entering The Charming
       Harlot. The tavern meets brothel meets armpit, although still
       disgusting in scent, was much like home to Arcelia. This was
       where she'd first bumped into Captain Blackbeard and where her
       life as a pirate had begun. Located on the island of Tortuga,
       where The Unwelcome Stranger makes her birth, it wasn't unusual
       to find the Spanish beauty recruiting here for her latest daft
       treasure hunting scheme. All she had to do was give a nod of her
       head to the barman and two men cleared a table of some
       slobbering drunk pirates and one of the whores brought her a
       bottle of the Spanish rum they kept on hand only for her
       arrival.
       #Post#: 266225--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Home Port: Tortuga, The Shithole
       By: Azriel Date: August 31, 2012, 7:39 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Jasper hadn't known what to expect when he ran away from his
       quiet life to become a pirate. Sure, he was in search of
       adventure, and thrill, But since his arrival on Tortuga, he
       couldn't help but wonder if he had made a grave mistake. Captain
       Arcelia had agreed to take him on, most likely just for his
       skills as a blacksmith, but while she appeared more than
       comfortable in this brothel, he could only feel the taint of
       disgust. The smell was beyond putrid, and the people were even
       worse. Sloppy, drunken and foolish. If Jasper thought he didn't
       fit in on the ship, he was experiencing a whole new level of
       outcast now. He was educated, well spoken, and inexperienced
       with people. But he followed his Captain without objection or
       complaint. He took a seat next to her at the bar, however his
       eyes remained fixed on the wooden table, never once looking up
       at the barkeep or any of the patrons. The thought kept going
       through his head; That he was a runaway amongst savages. But
       what could he do now?
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