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#Post#: 289--------------------------------------------------
The Rare Fully-Clothed Dancing Girls Of The North
By: High Captain Song Date: February 17, 2024, 5:42 pm
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THE SETTING
-=Docks=-
At the docks, where the Thassa meets the land
THE PLAYERS
High Captain Song
Seleme of Vegvisir
Seleme
Just another day in paradise. HA! Another one. The sun was out
and bright, casting such an awesome Ray of Light from Thassa's
waves. Had I stayed in Vegvisir today, I would have been Frozen.
But I decided to just let it goooooo...let it gooooo, boarded
the Rag Doll and decided to Ride, Ride, Ride my life away,
looking for a better way to deal with just another day.
Sometimes I kill myself! A soft laugh would erupt from the
depths of my slender throat, I really should have stayed at home
and gotten some Dirty Laundry done, hold on, wait a minute,
that's what slaves are for, isn't it? A mad dash from the shores
of Vegvisir would find me sailing...Just Sail to take in a bit
of the world that feels like it's closing in sometimes.-
-Enough of that, time to get to the serious parts of this day,
seriously, why should I even try? Laughter is the best medicine
possible in a world filled with doom and gloom, so let's just
keep on smilinggggggggggg. Small black boots take the time to
tap lightly against the gangplank that's been lowered. Do a
little dance make a little.....scratchhhhhhhhhhh, thought I was
gonna say it, didn't ya? HA! Take a spin, just enough of a twirl
to lift the hem off my long leather skirt off the toes of those
black boots. Scandalous! My crew are shaking their heads,
lifting eyes to the sky, oooo, there's an Eye in the Sky! Odin
don't point no finger this way, Loki's always been my favorite
anyway. Took me all this time to finally arrive upon the wooden
planks of this dock. Imagine that, I'm expecting something
amazing to happen from all this!-
Frode
Ah, the Docks. The docks of what, we cannot be certain. It is
somewhere on the Thassa in a non-descript port. Perhaps it is
the nameless village that has been set ablaze by roving panthers
once too often, where there was talk of building a statue to the
famous Captain Song? Or perhaps it is that other crappy town of
no name where some other shiftless layabout with no fixed
address and no real job is a hero? It matters not, for Captain
Song is here now, standing on a corner admist the dockside
taverns and brothels, and showcasing how he came to earn that
name, cittern in hand, song on his lips, and voice in the air.
There are paga-less souls that follow the paths
Where paga never flowed...
Let me drink at a bar in the city of Ko-ra-ba,
And kick off the dust of the road...
Let me drink in a bar in the city of Ko-ra-ba,
While the rest of the cities run dry...
There are men who drink kal-da and men who drink wine,
Yet none who loves paga like I!
I can watch from my bar in the city of Ar
As Initiates scream that I'm cursed,
And the warriors sweat and their needs are not met,
And they cry out and grimace with thirst...
So intent is he upon his song, that the bard does not see his
old friend Selene, dancing to her own tune as she often does,
not too far away. He also does not see the pirates who see the
dancing woman's ankles and, with an unspoken gesture, agree they
wonder about what other wonders might be found under that long
leather skirt.
Seleme
-Sometimes you just gotta....dance. Nothing provocative, nor
none of those down right sensual moves that I used to do way
back when under the sheets! Aye, I've known love in all various
conditions and ways, broken hearts and mended sails. Making a
living and just enjoying life, isn't that what we are supposed
to be doing afterall? With fingers snapping and toes tapping I
would continue on across the docks toward the more active part
of this structure. Hark, what voice is that being carried upon
the wind?!?!? I do believe it is that Roguish Bard, a friend in
need is a friend indeed. There was no mistaking his voice,
having heard is so many times before. Be it in a low whisper, or
in a shout, but most definitely I had heard it often in song. I
smile while putting an end to that ridiculous dance, if you can
even call it one. Tipping my chin as I glance toward the closet
tavern.-
-Drunkards and Pirates. Warriors down on their luck, hoping to
score with one of those tavern whores! The journey that my eyes
take honing in on the music that now makes me grin slow.
Quirking a slender brow. So. The tune is all about the drink.
Hmmm. Pina colada would fit in very well. Lifting a hand into
the air, giving a wave like I just don't care. Hmmmm, I might
need to put my back into it, lifting another hand, giving one of
those two handed waves through the air. Just imagine being among
a crowd we could do one of those wave type things. Giving a
glance back toward the drunkards and pirates, perhaps I'm
drawing way to much attention. Ahem. Lowering my arms, I'd give
a shout into the air, much like the kind that I would let loose
back Home while working at the docks with the men whom work with
me.- "BARD! A little louder, I can't quite hear you down here!"
Frode
Perhaps it is because The Bard is so engrossed in his work? Or
perhaps he refuses to let even an old friend interrupt him at
his play? In either case, he does not respond, but continues his
naughty tune, as the sailors in the crowd gathered around him
slap their shoulders to the beat.
And I know there are taverns in humid Port Kar,
And tankards of glorious height...
And the ka-la-na flows through the long afternoon,
And spills in the gutters at night...
But in Ar I swig paga with others who crave it,
And water does not touch my lips...
And we guzzle it down, there's no reason to save it,
And dribble it out in great drips...
For Initiates don't drink, so why should I serve them?
Or praise the great Priest Kings on high?
Let me live in a bar in the city of Ar,
My slaves and My Paga and I!
No, he does not seem to hear the shouts or see the waving hand
among all the other noises of the docks, including the ones he
is making. Nor does he see the large hand that suddenly clamps
around one of your slender left wrist as the hands come down.
That is followed by the feel of a blade pressed against the ribs
on your right side and a whisper. "Keep smiling, tiny dancer.
and don't try anything funny."
Seleme
-You are ignoring me?!?!?! Either that or you have been paid a
rather large sum of coin to perform. I'm seeing now just where I
am on the totem pole of friendship, and trust me, I shallllll
remember this! I was so disappointed that I'd not gained your
attention, oh I had attracted someone's attention alright.
Fingers tighten around my left wrist, does this fool have a
death wish? Turning my head only slightly as I feel the blade
pressed against my right side. Quirking a slender brow as I hear
the whisper. I would simply reply really low, nearly a whisper
myself.- "Oh I'm going to keep on smiling, on through the day,
you would be wise to let me go, a tiny dancer I'm not."
-Just from the glance I'd taken, he was lean, maybe he was mean,
perhaps he was a fighting ma chine. Either way, I could smell
the paga on his breath, apparently he'd not gotten lucky with
any of the whores at the tavern. Another upward glance would
find me assessing his height, well over 6 feet, he is, but
nothing near the 7 footers that I'm used to. Either way, with me
coming in at only 5 even feet tall, feeling like a molehill next
to a mountain! The way he's dressed, I'd put his location in
Port Kar. By the gods, why does it always have to be a Pirate
from Port Kar? Where's all them ruthless dust eating Warriors,
or those swoon worthy Tarnsmen? Just my luck, there's never
anyone handy when I'm in need of a Hero. What would really be
good right now, is for me to spot a particular black cloak, now
that would make things interesting, to say the least. Apparently
the Bard isn't the only one ignoring me, cause it would appear
that my words have fallen upon deaf ears. Okay, let's say if he
is a Pirate from Port Kar, I'll be able to entice him with a set
of new sails....hopefully! I would look back toward the Bard
that is still singing, starting to feel like I'm between a rock
and a hard place. AHEM!-
Frode
The lean one is standing close enough that you can definitely
feel "the hard place." The rock would be the one grasping your
wrist, who may not be quite so large as the 7 footers you
routinely sell sails by the seaside, is definitely big enough to
be a problem for most men of Port Kar. Compared to you, he might
be able to act as a small sailing vessel outfitted with a decent
sail. Alas, you don't think that's the ride he had in mind for
you.
As for the bard, his eyes do seem to meet yours, as the song
comes to a close and you make yet another silent plea to
whatever gods might be watching that might take pity on a poor
Free Woman who intends to stay that way. He smirks a bit and
sees the fellows standing close to you. It is then he does
something that will probably get him a stern talking to by
someone, be it the Free Woman in question, his Mate, or his long
lost mother, who ran away before he was born but will suddenly
show up so that she can deliver the much-deserved sense-knocking
he should have gotten years ago.
"Oy! You lot! Clear off away from my dancer!" Ah, so he DID see
you earlier....
Seleme
-Inside my mind, I had already starting piecing all of the moves
together that my Brothers had taught me growing up when it comes
to self defense. And then there are the few moves that I've
practiced on my own while burning the midnight oil inside my
warehouse. I was in this scenario once, and I made the mistake
of aiming high instead of low, I would not make that same
mistake again. Just about to perform the execution of said moves
when I hear the sound of your voice. Good thing I wasn't taking
a drink, even so, I still sort of choked. Your dancer? I started
to speak up and say...Have you lost your mind? Luckily the
wheels of my mind were turning quick and I realized what you
were trying to do. Let's face it, you are a Singer, not a
Fighter, the last thing I needed to see upon these wooden planks
is the sight of your blood. I would relax and keep quiet,
electing to let you handle this situation, because I was feeling
those big ole fingers tighten around my left wrist. Okay, this
is going to leave marks, which is NOT a good thing. I do have
friends and family that are going to ask question when and if
they spot the bruises.-
-Pressing my lips tighter tightly, feeling that blood pressure
of mine start to boil. You would think that this man would be
able to find someone that looks a lot better than me to pick on.
I mean, talk about thin, it is all about my work, but let's face
it, a buxon breasted whore, I'm not! I'd give a look around the
crowd, while all along, hoping that you have the situation in
hand, sending up an SOS isn't something that I'm to proud to
do!-
Frode
(02/17/24 02:56:55 pm)
-- High Captain Song --
- Frode of Skull Island -
- Bard of Legend -
Captain of the Crimson Corsair
Malora's Mate
-=Docks=-
At the docks, where the Thassa meets the land
says to ...The §ailmaker... : It's a good thing Frode is not a
mindreader. Or that if he is, he hides that power. For that line
about him being a Singer not a Fighter might make him leave the
woman to the not so tender mercy of the besotten pirates of Kar.
True, he is better known as a lover, not a fighter. But that's
the price you pay when you're a dashing, handsome and articulate
Captain who rules his men through respect rather than fear,
unlike the vast majority of the Captain's Council. But that is a
matter of preference, not practicality. Few remember that he won
his place as a High Captain on the Council of Pirates after
besting the infamous Captain Siward of The Gallows in a duel and
claimed The Gallows for himself, renaming it The Crimson
Corsair. Alas, the Skald turned Captain is more famous for
incidents like his enslaving a Free Woman Physician of the High
Caste after his songs inspired her to throw off her green robes
and kneel before him like the most brazen of tavern whores in a
public square. Yet he can fight when push comes to shove. There
are just other things he'd rather be pushing and shoving. Which
brings us back to Selene.
Yes, he could fight, but that knife could go through the dark
haired woman before he could get to her through the crowd. But
if there is one thing the Skald does well, it is know how to
read a room. Too, he knows how to play a crowd. And in this case
the crowd are a more effective weapon, properly aimed, than the
sword that hangs at his side. For as he shouts his words
regarding a dancer, the crowd turn as one and give your captors
the one thing they did not want.... attention. The Skald, in
that moment, spins around his cittern and begins pounding out a
beat on the back of the instrument, which carries out the noise
hole as well as any drum. The crowd, thinking this is part of a
show, not questioning why a dancer would be dressed so
conservatively (for it is not uncommon for them to strip down as
part of the show in some places) begin to clap. The skinny one
reluctantly pulls the knife back and the big one lets go as they
step back, intent on running. No, they do not want an audience.
Unfortunately, that does leave you with a whole new problem....
Seleme
-Mama told me that there would be days like this!-
-I could have stayed in the warehouse, or even in bed for all
that matter, but noooooo, I had to take a wild hair to get out
about, let the wind fill those notorious Rag Doll sails. It was
a journey that I'd taken more times than my mind can count right
now. There's nobody around here that's a mind reader, but the
one thing that was tweaking all over my last nerve is that you
are misspelling my name...it's SELEME! With an m, that's two
humps, not an n, which only has one hump, Bard, the Singer, not
the Fighter, or the Lover, not the Fighter, or whichever on any
given moment in time. Right now there are more important matters
to attend.-
-What the Hel are you doing?-
-Are you as drunk as some of this crowd, and here I thought I
could depend on you to get me out of this...mess. Well if you
think that I am going to dance, you are smack crazy right out of
your mind. I would look around the crowd as they started to
clap, all of y'all have lost your ever loving minds! There's a
decision to be made, I hate being put on the spot, I truly do.
Then I go back in time to that one on one, little talk that Mama
and I had way back when, the subject being...staying FREE 101,
Mama's voice would enter my mind.- "Whatever you gotta do, to
remain Free, Seleme, ya gotta do it, no matter how tasteless and
beneath you that it seems." -Oh mama, why do I do these things
to myself? I inherited way to much of Father's stubbornness! All
of a sudden a shout would lift in the crowd.- "Hey Bard, I don't
think the tiny dancer belongs to you at all!"
-Never let them see you sweat! I always come prepared, or at
least, I do try to, the wheels of my mind were cranking into
overdrive as I spot an empty crate in the distance. I swear, I'm
going to live to regret this! I would lift my hands up slightly,
now that the sharp pointy object had been removed from my side,
clapping my hands in time with the beat of that makeshift drum,
murmuring without sound, these words toward you.- " This had
better work."
Frode
Part 1 of the plan goes off without a hitch. The captors
released her and she had the sense to put some distance between
her and them even as the crowd cleared the way expecting a
dance. I had thought you would make a break for it. Or maybe
even decide to dance in earnest while working your way to
somewhere you could bolt for it. But you had to hop on a crate
and make yourself a bigger target. Thankfully, the thin one is
too stupid to keep his mouth shut and winds up giving me the
perfect set up to getting Seleme out of this.... if she can
stand to play along a little bit.
"Indeed she is, Sir!" I shout at the skinny man. "But not some
common Southern slut to dance in naught but steel and a smile.
No! I would not waste your time with such platry, common
amusements. Selena here is one of the rare Northern dancing
girls. Because of the cold, they must dance in heavy leather
skirts and upwards of four layers of heavy wool. That requires
much more skill and indeed, strength, than what a common tavern
whore might do."
Somehow, the illogical logic of this seems to sway most of the
crowd, who must admit the novelty of a Northern woman fully
clothed dancing is something they have not seen before. And that
cursed Bard is still tapping out the beat as the people keep
clapping along with you.
(EDITOR'S NOTE: It was at this point that Seleme suffered a RTI
and begged to come spend some time on Skull Island to make
things up to Frode. He instead opted to write something which
left what happened next ambiguous.)
Frode
Stories will be told of that day and what happened. They will
all be confused however. Did Seleme actually dance some exotic
dance while staying fully clothed? Did the High Captain wind up
tracking down two Karnian scoundrels later that night to exact
vengeance? Or did some slave named Selena wind up stripping down
and throwing herself at the Bard's feet, offering herself up to
whatever debauchery he could imagine? All things are possible in
a nameless dockside port.... but the truth of it may only be
known to Seleme and Captain Song.
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