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| The Printer and His Apprentice; (Ruben & Horace) | |
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| Topic Started: 22 Dec 2007, 09:29 PM (952 Views) | |
| Ruben Velazquez | 13 Aug 2008, 11:48 PM Post #36 |
Deckhand
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Ruben had a grand few seconds when he watched Horace try the rum. He beamed as the boy coughed and sputtered. Seemed he hadn't had anything that strong before. Ruben had a bit of sympathy for him though. Before he came to Tortuga he'd never had rum either, and that first sip is certainly a doozy. It had actually been the reason he got pressed onto a ship not long after finishing his first bottle. That wasn't so fun. But after a few years he'd grown accustomed to the burn, though not enough to drink it constantly. He would need to find some beer soon enough, and not just for Horace. "I don't. Do. Cute," he said, fixing Ruben with a glare. "And don't touch me!" "My! How rude," Ruben said with a mock frown. He sauntered away from the lad and uncorked his rum bottle, bringing it up to his mouth to drink. "I can't hope to think you'll behave better around the girls. They'd be fawning all over you just like I was." He turned and leaned against the counter, putting out his hands in a helpless gesture. "I should probably spare them the agony of meeting you. No use presenting a mongrel to those attracted to purebreds." He lifted the bottle to his lips again, smiling arrogantly, then paused and looked skyward with a thoughtful expression. "Well, purebred by comparison. Perhaps a horse metaphor would be better...." He cleared his throat and gestured like he was Plato handing out ageless wisdom. "No use presenting a gelding to ladies who like to ride stallions. Hmm...that might not be much better...." |
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| Horace | 17 Aug 2008, 08:01 PM Post #37 |
Apprentice Printer
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Ruben didn't seem to have the same trouble with the rum that he was--he clearly had more experience in that area than Horace. Of course, the advantage of having lived more years could only help. "I can't hope to think you'll behave better around the girls. They'd be fawning all over you just like I was." Ruben fawned over him like girls would fawn over him? Either implication there wasn't good--that girls thought him a cute child (adult, in his opinion), or that Ruben liked him in the way that the girls did. Life just kept getting better and better. Kidnapping, forced labour, and now this? "If you were just fawning over me like girls will end up doing, then I want to make it clear that I'm not interested in that at all from you. I ain't nobody's cabin boy, if you catch my drift. And certainly not yours," he pointed his finger at Ruben as he said that, and took a long draw of the rum, managing this time to keep it down without spluttering. Without much spluttering. "I should probably spare them the agony of meeting you. No use presenting a mongrel to those attracted to purebreds." Horace shook his head. He wasn't quite sure it was worth trying to match wits with his new master. Not that he would admit that he thought his new master was witty or clever or anything even remotely or closely related to that. If asked he'd just have to publicly admit that he was the cleverer one by far, but not to tell Ruben because he was a bit touchy about it. "Well, purebred by comparison. Perhaps a horse metaphor would be better....No use presenting a gelding to ladies who like to ride stallions. Hmm...that might not be much better...." Horace looked up at Ruben confusedly. "What's a gelding?" he asked, not sure what Ruben was on about. |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 24 Aug 2008, 01:56 AM Post #38 |
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"I want to make it clear that I'm not interested in that at all from you. I ain't nobody's cabin boy, if you catch my drift. And certainly not yours." Ruben's face darkened, twitching in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a cabin with Horace in the euphemistic way he intended. Such a thing did happen among ships, especially among pirate ships, but Ruben had never seen the desire to participate. He saw young boys as just children, and if one worked on the same ship as he, he tended to try and protect him. On land he also kept an eye out of the scamps, as his pseudo-orphanage could attest. Sometimes they tried to steal from him, but most of them seemed grateful to at least have a safe roof over their head. Nevertheless, he grinned at Horace. "I'm afraid you're a tad too for my tastes in that regard," he murmured. "What's a gelding?" he asked. Ruben took a moment to swallow the rum in his mouth before answering. "A castrated horse. You didn't know that? It's a good tidbit to keep in mind, for such comparisons." He stared at the ceiling for several moments, lost in his thoughts. Then he looked back down at Horace with a curious face. "What sort of euphemisms do you know? I'm always interested in the imaginative abilities of hormonal youngters." |
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| Horace | 15 Sep 2008, 04:49 PM Post #39 |
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"A castrated horse." Horace grimaced and shifted his position on the floor so that one leg was now protectively lying atop the other. There were some things...so terribly and wrong to contemplate, that even though it were an animal, and not even a fellow man...well, you had to feel pity. "You didn't know that? It's a good tidbit to keep in mind, for such comparisons." "For comparisons?" Horace said, his brows furrowed, "I'm definitely not an, erm...that. I told you--I've been with lasses before. I think I'd have reported on their disappointment if I were...half a man. Well...I mean, some disappointment, but that was entirely not due to that." "What sort of euphemisms do you know? I'm always interested in the imaginative abilities of hormonal youngsters." The question caught the young apprentice by surprise. Euphemisms? Why'd he ask that? He knew lots of euphemisms and for various things. His favorite ones were the ones using printing terms and equipment. He loved his job, really. Perhaps a bit too much. "What? You mean like...'boxing the Jesuit' and all that? I know some pretty well." |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 17 Sep 2008, 11:39 PM Post #40 |
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"I think I'd have reported on their disappointment if I were...half a man. Well...I mean, some disappointment, but that was entirely not due to that." Ruben grinned. At least the boy did admit there was disappointment. He had a hard time believing Horace had gone as far as bedding a girl at such a young age. Ruben didn't think he was as young as Horace his first time, but it wasn't long after arriving on Tortuga that he did it. Whether Horace had or hadn't done it yet, he'd be doing it soon enough. As soon as Ruben let him leave, no doubt. "What? You mean like...'boxing the Jesuit' and all that? I know some pretty well." That was a strange saying. Ruben tilted his head as it went through his ears and processed through his brain. How had that euphemism come about? He felt sorry for anyone that might just be a Jesuit. "That's one I've never heard," he said. "Where does it come from? Sounds awfully strange." ooc: Argh...sucky, I'm sorry! Dunno what to say... |
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| Horace | 22 Sep 2008, 04:47 PM Post #41 |
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"That's one I've never heard. Where does it come from? Sounds awfully strange." "Oh...really?" Horace asked, the meagre amount of alcohol he'd had already loosening his tongue and dulling his wits. He put the bottle down on the ground and screwed up his face as he thought hard about the answer. "I dunno...I guess I heard it from someone. I think my pop might have mentioned it once or twice, 'course I didn't know then what it meant," he said ending that with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle, "I guess some of the other lads used it took, 'course we had other phrases we used, and maybe I equated one of them other phrases with this one and fig'red it out that way." He tilted his head to the side, amused at how it felt like like the world was tilting a bit with it. "Or did you mean like...etymological origins or summat?" |
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| Anamaria | 8 Oct 2008, 03:46 AM Post #42 |
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One of these days, Anamaria would be captain of her own ship. She'd sail the ocean with her own crew and go on whatever venture suited her, whenever it suited her. And she sure as hell wouldn't sail to an island where only a short time ago, the leader of the entire EIC was nosing around looking for pirates. It saddened her as much as the rest of the crew to leave Jack behind, and she even caught herself sending off a little prayer that he would escape again as he had done before. But it was insane to go back for him, especially this soon. For all they knew, Beckett was lying in wait somewhere holding Jack as bait. Afterall, pirates were a predictable lot, weren't they? But no, Gibbs wouldn't have it any other way. He had to go back for Jack, immediately. And what's more, he turned the whole crew against her in this. The only one who didn't argue against her was Mr. Cotton. His bird made an attempt, but he shut up quick when Anamaria threw the bottle of rum at him. Unfortunately, it missed the bird and landed squarely on the map of Jamaica that was spread out near the helm. Now it was her job to go buy a new one. There weren't any decent map-makers in Tortuga. Where the bloody hell was she supposed to find a suitable map? After asking around a bit, several people mentioned a man by the name of Ruben Velazquez. Not only was he supposed the best map-maker on the rock, he may very well be the only one. Ana approached the door of a rickety looking two story building that seemed to match the description given to her by some of the people she had asked. It didn't look like much, but then, it wasn't exactly a brothel intended to entice visitors through the door. But at the same time, she couldn't quite tell if it was a place of business at all. There was nothing to set it apart from the surrounding homes. She gave a good, strong knock at the door to see who would answer. |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 10 Oct 2008, 12:12 AM Post #43 |
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"I guess some of the other lads used it took, 'course we had other phrases we used, and maybe I equated one of them other phrases with this one and fig'red it out that way. Or did you mean like...etymological origins or summat?" Ruben raised a brow at "etymological." He wasn't sure just what that word was. Fluent as he was in English, his mother tongue was still Spanish, and some of the numerous monosyllabic English words were difficult to remember and understand. He had probably read etymological somewhere, but it wasn't a word often used in his writing. It sounded downright scientific. He was spared answering Horace's question when someone knocked on the door. Ruben blinked in slight surprise, then ambled over to open the door. A surly-looking woman stood there, though she was a little attractive. Too bad her clothes were awful. Not like the dresses worn by the ladies by the docks. He grinned at her anyway and leaned against the doorway (to purposefully block her view of his intoxicated apprentice). "How may I help you madam?" |
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| Horace | 11 Oct 2008, 04:24 PM Post #44 |
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Horace managed to miss the knock on the door, and was slightly puzzled as to why Ruben was now going to the door. He wasn't going to kick him out was he? Not after he kidnapped him and all and dragged him off to Tortuga? That would just be really, really, really, really, really, really, really....Horace kept repeating the word in his head like a record player stuck on a loop, and never made it to the end of his thought before Ruben was speaking. "How may I help you madam?" Oh, of all the insults! Horace was no madam, and he managed to pull himself successfully to his feet and teater over to Ruben so he could correct this misinterpretation of his gender (it wasn't like he went around wearing dresses or anything, so it was entirely unforgivable). It wasn't until he was peaking around him that he caught sight of some sort of lad standing there. Lad? But he addressed the him-lad as 'madam' ? He wasn't a eunuch was he? Was that how you addressed eunuchs? Eunuchs were still always masculine. Really. Master Edington had had some primers on Greek and Latin, and in both languages it was considered a masculine noun. He didn't know why he and the other lads had looked it up, but he was quite sure that there was a good reason at the time. Maybe Ruben was so drunk that he couldn't tell if someone was wearing pants they clearly weren't a 'she.' He giggled at that. Ruben was so dru-unk! Drunk! Drunk! Drunk! Drunk! Drunk! "Drunk!" Horace wasn't quite sure when he had switched from saying it in his head, to saying it out loud...but his lips were moving. He thought. He reached up to touch them to make sure that they were moving. Yup, they were moving all right. So was the whole room. "I think I need to sit down," he announced to no one in particular as he sank to the ground. |
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| Anamaria | 14 Oct 2008, 02:26 AM Post #45 |
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Ana didn't have to wait long at the door, but she was growing impatient anyways, especially since this wasn't particularly how she wanted to spend her time in Tortuga. Afterall, if she must be in a place as dangerous as this one was at the moment, she would much rather spend her time drinking rum and listening to some lively music. When the door did finally open, Ana was greeted by a rather striking young man. Instantly, the scowl on her face softened to something a little more lady-like and she straightened her posture. She wasn't even aware that she had done it and would have been disappointed with herself if she had been. She caught herself staring as he leaned against the door frame and smiled at her. Her eyes averted slightly. "How may I help you madam?" It took her a moment to remember why she had come, and before she could tell him, someone else came to the door. He was a lad who appeared to be having a difficult time maintaining his balance. When he arrived at the door, he made it a point to announce his current state to all who were present. Although it was entirely unnecessary. One look at the flush-faced boy told Ana all she needed to know about his condition. When he suddenly raised his hand to his lips and sat down on the floor, she was sure he was going to be sick. "Begging your pardon," she said, suddenly turning her attention back to the man at the door, "I was told I could find a man who sold charts here, a man by the name of Ruben Velazquez. But I clearly have the wrong place. I didn't mean to trouble you men. I'll be on me way now, unless you might know where he is." She certainly hoped he did, since she didn't want to spend all evening looking for this person. |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 26 Oct 2008, 06:06 PM Post #46 |
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((Haha! Ana is so cute.)) Ruben waited for the woman to speak, sizing her up in the meantime. Was she some kind of sailor? If she was trying to pass herself off as a man she wasn't entirely succeeding. He could easily tell her true gender, and so could any other man on the island. Well, probably. Then again many of them were drunk.... Such as the brat. "Drunk!" The printer jumped suddenly at the boy's appearance. He was rather amazed at how quickly the boy became sloshed. In any other circumstance Ruben would have been amused, but he didn't want potential customers to see Horace acting like a moron. "I think I need to sit down," he announced. "Indeed," Ruben grumbled, shoving at the boy with his foot and trying to shuffle him away from the entrance. Horace was no small child though, so he wasn't scooted very far. Instead Ruben shoved the intoxicated youth's shoulder and hoped the boy would just fall asleep on the floor. Or at least lie there quietly. "Begging your pardon," she said. "I was told I could find a man who sold charts here, a man by the name of Ruben Velazquez. But I clearly have the wrong place. I'll be on me way now, unless you might know where he is." Ruben smiled at her. A customer! "Why, you have meandered correctly, m'dear! This very humble abode belongs to one Ruben Velazquez, and that one is I." He reached out and grasped one of her hands, holding it in a gentlemanly way, and gently pecked the back of her hand. "How may I be of service to you milady?" ((Ruben is such a ham.)) |
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| Horace | 28 Oct 2008, 02:08 AM Post #47 |
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(ooc -- ham is delicious  If any of this is way, way too out there, feel free to kick me, and I'll edit)"Woomph," Horace said as he went to the ground, oblivious to Ruben's attempts to get him out of the way. He liked it better on the ground. Things seemed to move less on the ground. And it was so comfortable too! He might be able to just curl up on the floor and sleep, it wasn't so bad... "I was told I could find a man who sold charts here, a man by the name of Ruben Velazquez. But I clearly have the wrong place. I'll be on me way now, unless you might know where he is." Charts? Horace thought that there was something a bit funny about that. He was under the impression that Ruben was an aspiring printer. Not a bloody caro...carro...cartog...person who made maps. He knew what the word was, he just didn't care enough to figure out at the moment. He better set the he-she right, and let him-her be on his-her way. It was only right, since he couldn't trust Ruben to not let him-her be under the wrong impression and attempt to kidnap him-her. Him-her was getting a bit hard to think...there had to be a quicker easy word to use...maybe one that combined all--him, her, and it? But that could work in all situations? Something like 'she-he-it' but shorter? Something like, "she'eit" or... "sheit"? "Why, you have meandered correctly, m'dear! This very humble abode belongs to one Ruben Velazquez, and that one is I. How may I be of service to you milady?" "Whaa?" Horace was finally unable to stay silent, "Ya tol' me you were a prin'ah, I min...thah's th'reason ya kidnepp't me...righ'? I though' I wuhs s'pos't to be yer 'prentice prin'ah, not li' some 'prentic't....pers'n who makes maps," his last were were carefully overexaggerated, "You lied ta me!" He was pouting by the end of his speech, a pout so indicative of his perceived angst that 300 years into the future it could have made John Simm weep with envy. |
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| Anamaria | 1 Nov 2008, 06:13 AM Post #48 |
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"Why, you have meandered correctly, m'dear! This very humble abode belongs to one Ruben Velazquez, and that one is I. How may I be of service to you milady?" Ana wasn't quite sure what to make of this sort of welcome, particularly when he took her hand and kissed the back of it. There were two ways she was used to being address by those who didn't know her. If the stranger was someone of a higher social status than herself (which made up a rather large portion of the population), she was met with contempt due to a combination of her lifestyle, color, and the fact that she wore men's clothes. Even those who were bound by their moral standards to be polite to others had an air about them that made it clear she was a lesser person. If the person was someone from her own walk of life, there was usually some initial confusion over her manner of dress (even Tortugan ladies didn't usually walk around in breeches), but aside from that, there was no special care given to her because she was a woman. Attention, yes. But not care. This Ruben Velazquez appeared to come from a social standing not much different from her own, and yet, his mannerisms were gentlemanly. She liked it but didn't trust it entirely. This man was a charmer, much like Jack Sparrow could be when it was to his advantage. The question was, was he as harmless? "Whaa? Ya tol' me you were a prin'ah, I min...thah's th'reason ya kidnepp't me...righ'? I though' I wuhs s'pos't to be yer 'prentice prin'ah, not li' some 'prentic't....pers'n who makes maps, You lied ta me!" The boy's sudden outburst startled her. She looked at him skeptically for a moment, then addressed Ruben. "Kidnapped, he says? If you're looking to get a ransom for him, I hope you checked to see that his family wants him back. You may be stuck with him." Ana wasn't sure if the boy was serious or not, but even if he was, making her living among known murderers and thieves meant that a small-time child abductor was little to worry about. Besides, aside from being drunk off his pickle, the boy seemed to be unharmed. "I'm assuming what he means is you're a printer of maps. I'm in need of one for the Jamaican Isle and surrounding territory. Do you have one?" |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 2 Nov 2008, 11:05 PM Post #49 |
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((HAHAHA! Sheit. That sounds marvelous.)) "Ya tol' me you were a prin'ah, I min...thah's th'reason ya kidnepp't me...righ'? I though' I wuhs s'pos't to be yer 'prentice prin'ah, not li' some 'prentic't....pers'n who makes maps," his last were were carefully overexaggerated, "You lied ta me!" Ruben turned and scowled at his woe-begotten wunderkind. "I am both, lad. Cannot a person have more than one passion in life?" He gave Horace a sound thump on his forehead with the heel of a hand. "As for lying, you'd do well to remember you are keeping company with pirates, not priests." "Kidnapped, he says? If you're looking to get a ransom for him, I hope you checked to see that his family wants him back. You may be stuck with him." The scowl on Ruben's face vanished when he turned back to the woman. She had a wit! Certainly more than Horace at the moment, who had completely taken leave of his senses. Ruben stepped away from the door and gestured for the woman to enter the little print/map shop. "I wouldn't expect to get a ransom even if I asked for one. I expect his friends are glad to be rid of him." He gave Horace a good flick behind the ear for good measure. "I'm assuming what he means is you're a printer of maps. I'm in need of one for the Jamaican Isle and surrounding territory. Do you have one?" "Ah yes, of course." Ruben ambled into the back room and shuffled around the shelves and things on the walls. There were many other maps in special little spots, some rolled, some folded, some flat. He had made several copies of Jamaica, and even had specific maps of Port Royal and Kingston. Whether or not they were accurate remained to be seen, as he had been to Port Royal only three times, and had never been to Kingston. He pulled out a rolled up map and walked back to the front of the store, tapping the paper against his shoulder. "I seem to have a copy available." He smiled. "Depending upon your offer." |
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| Horace | 5 Nov 2008, 06:20 AM Post #50 |
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"Kidnapped, he says? If you're looking to get a ransom for him, I hope you checked to see that his family wants him back. You may be stuck with him." If Horace had been sober enough to realise that he had been insulted, then he surely would have acted so, but as it was all he could really process of the sentence was that there was a possible ransom...and that he could be stuck here for good. The last bit of news was enough to convince him to continue at the bottle he had been making good friends with. He took another swig from the bottle. It was really remarkable how quickly you could get used to the taste and burn of the alcohol, even when barely a short while ago you had just started drinking it. It was a truly wonderful thing! "I'm assuming what he means is you're a printer of maps. I'm in need of one for the Jamaican Isle and surrounding territory. Do you have one?" Horace sighed...maps again. Dusty, ugly, boring old maps. Why did people find them so fascinating? All they did was collect dust, and make people sick. Oh, sure they allowed people to navigate...but he seriously had his doubts of the effectiveness of their sailing. Personal experience. He watched as Ruben went to assist the customer and turned his attention back to the bottle. He brought the bottle up, and decided that it might be a good idea to try to suck the precious liquid out. Less...of a decision and more of a simple forging ahead and attempting it. It...didn't turn out quite so well. He didn't know how, but suddenly, Horace found his tongue ripped out of his mouth, and stuck...rather securely inside the bottle. "Uhh...laaa...luhhh..." he said, trying to shift so that he could get his tongue out without losing it..and after a few quick moments of struggle, he freed it with a loud pop. |
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| Anamaria | 8 Nov 2008, 04:31 AM Post #51 |
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Ana was beginning to like Ruben, and the patience he exercised with the boy was admirable. Although she had to wonder how he managed to get in that state in the first place. She watched him with interest as he continued drinking from the bottle. This was perhaps the first time Ana had ever felt the urge to intervene in someone else's drinking, but something told her that this kid honestly didn't know what he was setting himself up for. All the same, it was none of her business. She came to purchase a map and leave, not to interfere in other people's affairs. She stood there quietly waiting for Ruben to return with whatever maps he had available and tried not to stare at the boy. When Ruben returned with only one map, she was a little disappointed. But then, she should probably consider herself lucky to have found one at all. Tortuga wasn't known for its master cartographers. She just hoped it was decent. "I seem to have a copy available." He smiled. "Depending upon your offer." "Me offer?!" she asked. So, that's how it was. This man was as crooked as any other business man in this town. She wasn't sure what made her expect any different. Perhaps it was because she thought she was dealing with a somewhat educated, skilled tradesman, rather than some common crook? But truth be told, he probably stole that map from some poorly guarded ship during the night. Suddenly, she didn't like him quite as much as she did only a minute before. She pointed a finger at him and said, "First, you show me the map. How am I to know whether it's worth the paper it's printed on? Then once I've seen it..." "Uhh...laaa...luhhh..." Ana's minor rant was interrupted by a strange noise coming from the boy. She turned around to find him with his tongue stuck in the bottle. She watched as he pulled it out and winced a little at the thought of how that must have felt. Her anger at Ruben was temporarily forgotten as she turned to him and asked, "Do you think he should have that?" |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 8 Nov 2008, 11:34 PM Post #52 |
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"Me offer?!" she asked. Ruben frowned at her, tapping the rolled up map against his shoulder. She was surprised he was asking for payment? What did she expect? It wasn't like he was going to give these things away for free. There were various ways she could pay. Money, her body, supplies for his press, a share of whatever booty she rounded up during her captain's venture. She looked like a sailor, but she didn't look like a captain. Perhaps her real captain had sent her to Ruben in the hopes she might seduce the map away from him. If that was the case, they picked the wrong girl for that job. "First, you show me the map. How am I to know whether it's worth the paper it's printed on? Then once I've seen it..." Ruben was about to remark on her remarks, but saw her attention drawn away yet again by his bloody drunk apprentice. The boy had his tongue stuck in the bottle. Ruben was unconcerned. It wasn't like it was impossible to get the tongue out in the first place. If worse came to worse, they could break the bottle, or cut his tongue. Actually that idea had some appeal... "Do you think he should have that?" "Not anymore," Ruben grumbled. "Though I suppose some practice wouldn't be a bad thing since he wants to make nice with the brothel ladies someday." The pirate stomped over to Horace and snatched the bottle away from him. He held it up over the boy's head like he was going to smash it against his skull, but stopped himself. Behaving thusly would earn him no points toward his customer, since she was a woman. Manlike as she was, she probably had some maternal instincts in her anyway. "Horace," Ruben hissed as he placed the empty bottle on a table. "I think you've had enough rum...." Ruben made a scooting motion with his hand toward the stairs. "Perhaps you should go upstairs and sleep. I don't imagine you can contain yourself much longer, and doubly doubt you could be any help right now." |
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| Horace | 14 Nov 2008, 08:15 PM Post #53 |
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"Do you think he should have that?" Horace had enough presence now to look offended. After all, this was his bottle she was threatening. His, and don't forget it. He loved the bottle, and really...this stuff was really good. Tasty. Fun. It made the room shift...spin. Stuff like that. It truly was special because it granted him such a lovely outlook on life. "Yuh!" He said raising his voice, and simultaneously hugging the bottle close to him. He wouldn't let the mean sheit take it away from him. "Not anymore." Horace was having difficulty turning his head to keep up with the back and forth, for each time he turned it, it felt like his head was going to roll off. So absorbed in this weird sensation was he, that he failed to realise that the true threat to his happiness and the bottle was not Anamaria, but rather Ruben. "Though I suppose some practice wouldn't be a bad thing since he wants to make nice with the brothel ladies someday." "Huh?" had his wits not been so dulled he might have stood a fair chance at understanding what Ruben was implying, however this served to distract him, and the next thing he noticed, Ruben had reached over and tugged the bottle away from his protective embrace. "Mhiiine!" Horace whined. "Horace," Ruben said, as Horace watched, his eyes filling with tears, the bottle was exiled to stand on a cold and unfeeling table, "I think you've had enough rum...." He shook his head vigorously, just before he remembered what happened when you were drunk and that occurred. The weird moving sensation came back again. "Perhaps you should go upstairs and sleep. I don't imagine you can contain yourself much longer, and doubly doubt you could be any help right now." Horace pouted again, for good measure, and teetered unsteadily to his feet. He looked around for where he thought the stairs might be and turned to look at the sheit. He grinned, "I fin' yer blawgin' me way..." |
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| Anamaria | 24 Nov 2008, 04:32 AM Post #54 |
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Ana was actually a little amused by the display that these two were putting on for her. It was difficult to reconcile in her mind the respect that people in Tortuga had given to this man and his operation with what she was now witnessing. But then, it was clearly the boy who was the problem, not Ruben. She was a little disappointed that he decided not to hit him over the head with the bottle. If nothing else, it would have shut him up for a while. But since all he did was take it from him, he only succeeded in making the boy, whose name was Horace, apparently, more troublesome. When Horace started coming straight toward her, she became a little apprehensive. She was vaguely aware that the stairs were located somewhere behind her, but there was plenty of room for him to go around. What could he possibly want from her? "I fin' yer blawgin' me way..." "Come again?" she asked. But as she ran his words over in her mind a few times she realized what he had said. "I am not," she said with some irritation. But she stepped aside none the less. "What sort of a place is this?" she asked and took a closer look at her surroundings. She saw the printing press, but she noticed for the first time that it appeared to be in disrepair. She wasn't sure, since she personally knew nothing about printing, but from the look of it, she doubted anything had been printed on that thing for a long time. This only confirmed her suspicion that the map Ruben was offering her was not his own. At least not originally. "You're not a printer at all, are you? You're just a common thief." Then she motioned at Horace almost dismissively. "One who likes to take in liquored up derelicts from the looks of it. Or was he kidnapped, as he says?" She waited a moment to let that sink in. She knew it wasn't the wisest thing to call out a thief in his own lair, but she had her pistol ready at her side if she needed it, and he didn't look all that threatening anyways. Maybe if he knew she was wise to him, he would be more up front with her concerning this purchase. "No need to worry, if you are. I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I only need a map and you seem the only one who's able to provide one for now. All I ask for is a fair price. What are you selling that one for?" |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 30 Nov 2008, 01:01 AM Post #55 |
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Deckhand
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Ruben glared after Horace as the boy stumbled his way toward the stairs, but his anger toward the lad was disrupted by and eventually moved to the woman. "What sort of a place is this?" He turned to look at her and saw she was looking around the room. Considering the state of the press and the state of his apprentice, Ruben didn't entirely blame her for that piqued remark. All the same, this wasn't the start of a marvelous review. "You're not a printer at all, are you? You're just a common thief. One who likes to take in liquored up derelicts from the looks of it. Or was he kidnapped, as he says?" Ruben's blood boiled. How dare she compare him to a common thief! It wasn't his fault the boy couldn't take his liquor and that the press wasn't working properly! His maps were his own doing, or at least his own copying. Still, it wasn't like he had stolen them from anyone at all! "No need to worry, if you are. I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I only need a map and you seem the only one who's able to provide one for now. All I ask for is a fair price. What are you selling that one for?" Ruben scowled at her and tried not to grip the map too hard. "I'm afraid the price has just increased thanks to your cheeky remarks." He stiffly took a step toward her and pointed at her chest. "I am not a thief. I didn't steal any of these maps. I made them, copied from maps my father made himself." He sneered. "Don't lump me in with your kind." He turned to look at Horace, his scowl dispersing into a pitiful glower. "As for the boy, I did kidnap him. Didn't know he was so easily intoxicated." Grumbling, he turned back to the woman and pointed at her with the rolled up map. "If you still want this, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement of some kind. Once I've received my apology." |
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| Horace | 30 Nov 2008, 03:51 PM Post #56 |
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Apprentice Printer
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Horace shrugged, or rather attempted to, and was relieved to see her step out of his way. Although...that did remove the possibility of him "accidentally" falling into her and grabbing her for support. He didn't normally think like that, he realised. Wondered what it was that got into him. As he took another step he narrowly avoided falling and recalled what it was. Dutch courage. Good stuff. Damn, he thought, my memory on this stuff is worse than a...whoah! He stumbled back to the stairs and lowered himself down on the second step, not quite sure he'd be able to make it up the steps without tripping and falling down, and cracking his head open. He really like his head, he didn't want to break it...his head...he had to stifle a giggle at that. He watched as the two of them bickered back and forth, and found the entire thing to be funny. For a moment he even had hope that the sheit would believe that he was kidnapped, and perhaps sheit might even be moved enough by his plight that sheit would consider helping him out, but it became apparent pretty quickly, since sheit up and out practically said sheit didn't care if he was involved in illegal activities. Bloody pirates! "As for the boy, I did kidnap him. Didn't know he was so easily intoxicated." Horace gave him a huge beaming grin when he looked at him, rather smug for some reason. He mouthed the word "liar" to him, but wasn't sure if his lips managed with enough coordination to get something that resembled that monosyllabic word, but at least he tried. "If you still want this, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement of some kind. Once I've received my apology." Horace laughed, and waved for the sheit's attention. "'pologise to 'is ego," he said giggling, making a crude gesture between his legs. |
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| Anamaria | 7 Dec 2008, 09:14 PM Post #57 |
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Deckhand
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"I'm afraid the price has just increased thanks to your cheeky remarks." "Cheeky remarks? I was simply..." She was going to say she was simply calling it as she saw it, but instead, she began backing away somewhat as Ruben came toward her with his finger pointed at her. Perhaps she had gone a bit too far. "Don't lump me in with your kind." He turned to look at Horace, his scowl dispersing into a pitiful glower. "As for the boy, I did kidnap him. Didn't know he was so easily intoxicated." She turned to the boy who was sitting on a step and looking as daft as ever. Kidnapped or not, he seemed to be having a perfectly wonderful time in all of this. She scowled at him, more as a warning not to interfere than a response to anything he was trying to say (whatever that was). "If you still want this, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement of some kind. Once I've received my apology." She turned back to Ruben suddenly. "Apology, indeed!" she said and placed her hands on her hips. Horace's waving caught her attention, but she didn't turn around just then. She had no patience for him at the moment, which made it all the worse when he spoke up. "'pologise to 'is ego," he said giggling, making a crude gesture between his legs. Now, he had her attention. She started coming toward him with her fists clenched at her side as though she was only one step away from doing something to him, although it was more to make her point than an indication of any action she planned to take. "Listen here, whelp! I don't believe you're in any condition to contend with the likes of me. If you've any doubts, just keep spouting off at the mouth the way you've been doing. I'll put you in your place, believe me you." She wasn't normally in the habit of picking fights with men, but this one seemed young enough, inexperienced enough and drunk enough that he was more likely to cower away than to take her up on it. Her confidence in this was strong enough that she then turned her back on him to deal with Ruben. "And you!" she said while pointing a finger at him much like he did with her, "I'll have you know 'my kind' come from a very respectable line of hard-working fishermen, who make an honest living by selling their catch to your kind, who don't know what hard work is!" She purposely failed to mention that she had broken away from that family tradition recently. "And as far as an apology is concerned, I refuse! Especially if it has anything to do what that boy just implied!" She shot a glare at Horace. "I came here looking for a map, but if you won't sell one to me, or not for some acceptable price," she quickly surveyed Ruben with a look of slight disgust, "I'll just take me business elsewhere." She had no idea where, but that didn't matter right now. She could always try another nearby island, if there weren't anymore map makers in Tortuga. If nothing else, it would make a good excuse to leave this rock and avoid running into Beckett, which was what she wanted to do in the first place. |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 14 Dec 2008, 09:27 PM Post #58 |
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Deckhand
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Ruben stood waiting for the woman's reply, which had better be good if she was really looking for a map, when of course Horace interrupted. "'pologise to 'is ego," he said giggling, making a crude gesture between his legs. A fair bit of blood drained from Ruben's face at the boy's horrible gesture, but since he was quite a tawny man such a reaction wasn't easily noticeable. He couldn't believe how far down the evolutionary chain Horace had fallen simply from one bottle of rum. Ruben was going to be very sure the boy didn't drink anymore, at least not in his house around his customers. If the woman hadn't spoken to the boy, Ruben might have gone over there and strangled him straight. "And you!" And then of course she turned on him. What an ungrateful woman. He frowned at the finger she pointed at his chest, but he probably had it coming. It wasn't quite nice to point at anyone. "I'll have you know 'my kind' come from a very respectable line of hard-working fishermen, who make an honest living by selling their catch to your kind, who don't know what hard work is! And as far as an apology is concerned, I refuse! Especially if it has anything to do what that boy just implied!" I'm going to kill you, Horace, Ruben thought, glaring at the boy when the woman did. "I came here looking for a map, but if you won't sell one to me, or not for some acceptable price," she quickly surveyed Ruben with a look of slight disgust, "I'll just take me business elsewhere." Ruben pressed his lips together and reached out to grip the woman's pointing hand. He squeezed it, perhaps a little too tight, and returned her venomous glare. Ruben knew he was no heavyweight and wasn't as strong as most other men his age and size, but he did know he could overpower a woman. There had been times he'd had to do such a thing. This one in particular looked as skinny and frail as any other. She had a loud bark, but probably a small bite. He turned his head and smiled at her. It wasn't at all friendly. "Miss, if you were truly such a hardworking fisherman, you would have no need of a map of Jamaica," he murmured. "And I will have you know that I was raised on a farm for most of my life, and did such arduous farm work as can be expected. The maps are my father's, my inheritance. I did not steal them." He leaned in closer with the same little mad grin. "Now, if the service does not satisfy you, you are free to leave. Good luck finding a decent map on this rotting isle." He let go of her hand and dropped the smile, then moved away to the counter. He tapped the map against it. "However if you are willing to calm that temper, we could try negotiating once more." He plucked a little mallet from the counter he'd used to put the press together and chucked it at Horace. "Provided we are uninterrupted," he hissed at the boy. |
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| Horace | 21 Dec 2008, 01:46 AM Post #59 |
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Apprentice Printer
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Horace tried to shrink back from the scary sheit, when sheit approached him with what he could only think of as an...nay, the 'aNgRy EXpression of DoOM.' The stair behind him dug into his back as he tried to lean as far away from the sheit as he possibly could, but fortunately for him, he'd had enough to drink that not only was he uncoordinated and not thinking clearly, but his pain receptors weren't working at full now. He was considering telling the sheit that he wasn't afraid of hirs (quite contrary to fact, of course) when he was spared making that unfortunate mistake when sheit turned on Ruben. Horace smirked at that. Finally, that bastard was getting what he deserved. He may be a whelp, but how many apprentices could claim they got to see their master chewed out in front of them? Even if he could think clearly, he wasn't sure he could name anyone who had. When the two of them glared at him, he gave a big grin and shrugged, catching his elbow on his leg, and nearly sent himself sprawling. He had the feeling that tomorrow he would regret all of this...not just the trouble portion, though it did give him a sick and perverse sense of delight to cause Ruben some trouble...but was it really sick and perverse to do that to the person who had kidnapped him? But he would regret the monster hangover. He'd heard enough stories from the other boys to know that he was in store for one hell of a headache. Ruben's bad qualities aside though, he had to marvel at how cool and suave he was being. Or so it seemed. He didn't doubt that many would seem to be cool and suave to him in this state. "Provided we are uninterrupted." Horace shrugged, "I'd go up, but 'ere ain't no way I'm gonna get up 'em stairs without sum'un 'elping me." |
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| Anamaria | 25 Dec 2008, 08:31 PM Post #60 |
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Deckhand
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It took Ana by surprise when Ruben grabbed her hand the way he did, and the look on his face did nothing to make her feel any better. What sort of a situation had her big mouth gotten her into now? This man was not part of Jack's relatively harmless crew, nor did she have any of those crew around to back her up just then. And what was worse, he had grabbed her pistol hand, making her only true means of defense somewhat hindered at the moment. (Sure, she could shoot with her left hand if she had too, but she wasn't nearly as good a shot that way.) Perhaps it was best just to make nice with the man from here forward, just long enough to get out of there. Then she could forget all about him. "Miss, if you were truly such a hardworking fisherman, you would have no need of a map of Jamaica," he murmured. Bugger. He was on to her. "Now, if the service does not satisfy you, you are free to leave. Good luck finding a decent map on this rotting isle." As he let go of her hand, she snatched it away and began rubbing it. It didn't hurt her (much), but she wanted him to know she didn't appreciate him doing that. She followed him to the counter with her seething gaze, but she didn't move from where she stood. Keeping a little distance was probably best right now. "However if you are willing to calm that temper, we could try negotiating once more." He plucked a little mallet from the counter he'd used to put the press together and chucked it at Horace. "Provided we are uninterrupted," he hissed at the boy. Ana fought the urge to flinch when the mallet came flying across the room at Horace, and settled for a slight wince, instead. She admired the boys ability to stay so calm in the face of a flying object heading straight for him, even while intoxicated. But then, maybe he didn't even notice it coming. Horace shrugged, "I'd go up, but 'ere ain't no way I'm gonna get up 'em stairs without sum'un 'elping me." She didn't relish the idea of hauling his drunken arse up that flight of stairs, but seeing how Ruben was still willing to negotiate with her concerning the map, she thought it might be best to get him into a bed somewhere and out of the way. Then, she and Ruben could do business like two civilized people without interruption. She turned to Ruben and nodded toward the boy. "Alright then, what say we get him up there? A bit of sleep would likely do him some good." She approached Horace and grabbed him by one of his hands. "Let's go. On your feet," she said and gave him a tug. "Which way to your room?" |
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| Ruben Velazquez | 30 Dec 2008, 09:31 PM Post #61 |
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Deckhand
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"I'd go up, but 'ere ain't no way I'm gonna get up 'em stairs without sum'un 'elping me." "It'd be more entertaining if you could try it alone regardless," Ruben muttered. "Alright then, what say we get him up there? A bit of sleep would likely do him some good." He gave the woman a look of surprise. Apparently as gruff as she seemed, there was something in her that caused for worry toward the poor, unfortunate fool. Ruben chalked it up to maternal instincts, and he was sure that, no matter how rough and mean a lass might be, all women had them. He gave the woman a rueful smile. "Never would have pegged you for a caring sort. Suppose all women have a streak of pity in them." He glanced at Horace. "No matter how disgusting the object of said pity might be." He sighed dramatically and made an equally dramatic gesture of exhaustion. "Fine then, if we must carry the child, let us get it over with." She approached Horace and grabbed him by one of his hands. "Let's go. On your feet," she said and gave him a tug. "Which way to your room?" Ruben grabbed Horace by his hair and pulled him to his feet, then gripped the lad's upper arm. "Up the stairs and to the right. Second door. The smaller, less comfortable room." He began trudging up the stairs with his burden. "But it has a bed, at least." |
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| Horace | 31 Dec 2008, 07:21 PM Post #62 |
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Apprentice Printer
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"Alright then, what say we get him up there? A bit of sleep would likely do him some good." Horace wanted to point out that they could talk to him, and not above or around him, thank you ever so much, but it was an awful lot of effort. What was it about adults always doing that to kids. He wasn't even a child anymore! If that was how it was going to be though, he'd be quite happy to pass on being an adult. Together the two of them pulled him up, the sheit being a lot gentler with him than Ruben was, grabbing his hair and all, after which he was willing to promise that he'd never tug a girl's braid again because, ow, that was a bit of a sharp pull and not at all that pleasant. He rewarded the sheit's kindness with a big grin. "You're really niiiiiiice," he said to hirs. He was going to complement hirs and tell hirs that sheit looks nice and pretty, especially after all the alcohol, but he was spared making that unfortunate mistake by Ruben telling them where Horace would be staying. "Up the stairs and to the right. Second door. The smaller, less comfortable room. But it has a bed, at least." "Wow," he said, "a real bed that I don'ave ta share...do I? D'I 'ave ta share it? If I do can I no' share i'with summun with shar' elbow' and who hogs all covers? I hate it when people do tha'." He didn't bother to listen or look and see whether or the not were even still bothering to pay attention to his drunken ramblings, but when they made it to the door he tried to push the two of them off of him. "I can manage by meself..." he said, teetering, and reaching for the door frame. |
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| Anamaria | 6 Jan 2009, 06:09 AM Post #63 |
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Deckhand
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Ana noticed how rough Ruben was with the boy, but she couldn't say she blamed him. She took hold of his other arm and helped drag him upstairs. "You're really niiiiiiice," he said to hirs. Ana looked at his fatuous grin and wasn't quite sure how to respond. It was a compliment, afterall, but the boy was soused, and who could say whether he meant it or what he was hoping to gain from it? Almost out of habit, she started to smile back at him, but her uncertainty over the situation made it come out as sort of mix between a half-smile and a face twitch. She decided it might be best if she just ignored him and hurried him to his room. She and Ruben managed to finally get him there when he tore away from them. "I can manage by meself..." he said, teetering, and reaching for the door frame. Ana watched him make his way toward his bed. It was a good thing the room was small. If the bed had been more than a few paces away, she doubted he would have made it. She looked at Ruben with a little bit of a smirk. "Best pray that boy doesn't become ill. It'll be a fine mess for you to clean up in the morning." The two of them left Horace in his room and went downstairs to continue negotiations over the map. "Alright," she said when they returned to the counter, "let's see that map. I want to know what it is I'm paying for. I confess, I'm a little confused, you saying you grew up on a farm, and yet your father was a maker of maps." She knew there had to be a proper name for the profession, but she had no idea what it was. "So, exactly how much sailing does a farmer do in his lifetime?" There was a gleam in her eye as she said this, letting Ruben know that she still doubted his story about these maps belonging to his father, but she wasn't bothered by it. She kind of liked a little dishonesty and roguery in a man, particularly one as gentle on the eyes as this one. |
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