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A Justice for a Piece; 2 July 1751 (Dark Day +1)
Topic Started: 24 Feb 2008, 06:17 PM (481 Views)
Virginia
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This thread may contain adult content, specifically violence, and mature themes. Each post that individually contains such material will have a posted warning, about the exact nature of the adult content. You continue reading at your own discretion.

(OOC- This thread is for PCs and NPCs who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty with a little bit of old-fashioned mob mentality and justice. Anyone is welcome to participate in it, however it is highly advised that you read the Discussion so that you know what you are getting into. It's not going to be a nice thread--it's going to be dark, hence the warning about the rating. Let the plotting begin!)



It was once of those deceptively beautiful days. The ones that were so beautiful, so clear, and so fresh that they just made you happy to be alive. Virginia suspected that that was most likely what everyone was feeling, and perhaps why, today, there were so few customers to attend to. Instead of taking an order, or rolling her eyes every time one of the men tried to pinch her bottom, or suggest a "night out" she was sitting here, bored out of her mind, rewiping the same mug with the same dirty cloth for what felt like the thousandth time.

Catching herself thinking that, she sent up a quick prayer to God, or the gods, or any sort of god or deity who made it their business to sit back and admire their work of creation by paying attention to each person's individual thoughts like some sort of crazy science fiction plot including big brother, that she did not mean to imply that she was ungrateful to be alive. Not at all. She was very much happy with it, especially given the events of yesterday. The effect of yesterday could even be see on Joseph--the owner and proprietor of the establishment where Virginia was working. The normally dour and agnostically-inclined man had somehow managed to procure a Bible and was busy leaning over it, his eyes scanning the words, his fingers tracing imaginary lines under them, then flipping the page, like he was somehow able to grasp a deeper meaning from the book, pull some sort of reason out of it why everyone was spared the end that they were so sure was going to come yesterday. It was enough to cause Virginia to shake her head at the man, and walk out towards the door of the pub to observe what activity was going on the streets. Virginia certainly knew that there was no sort of answer that she, let alone Joe would be finding in that book, if only for the simple fact that she knew she couldn't read, and she knew quite well that Joe read only as well as she could. And by an imaginary transitive property that the author of this post made up on the spot, it meant that Joe was very much illiterate as well.

There was very little activity on the streets for Virginia to see. Most people seemed to be taking a break from the normal pace of things, from the usual, to...somehow reflect on their city's close call. And if Joe was any indication of how they were spending this day to contemplate, then some Bibles were probably seeing a lot more action than they used to.

That was all fine and well with Virginia, aside from the fact that she really didn't care too much about the Bible, she'd been distrustful of a document that she couldn't read and had no way to know if the people who were discussing it even told the truth, but it also was cutting into their business rather badly. Very badly, she thought, not needing to turn around to know that the entire room--normally a hub of loud drunken talking, card games, and heavily spiced food to cover the taste of spoiled meat, was completely empty, aside from herself and Joe. And the Bible. Which was...while not the cause of their problem, certainly a large factor in it.

Make a low growling voice in the back of her throat, which was in fact, actually a very odd version of a uvular trill at a low pitch, Virginia turned around, giving up on the streets and went back into the pub, and threw the towel at Joe. The man started a bit, taking a step back and managing to upset the Bibles precarious perch on the edge of the bar table, sending it spilling to the floor, when his face was all of the sudden covered by the dingy grey towel.

"What do you think you're doing?!?" he said, tossing the towel aside, and dropping to the floor to reverently pick up the Bible and cradle it, like he held the infant Jesus himself, and not a book, "Are you mad? What he giveth he can taketh away!"

Virginia stared at Joe for a moment...this was not the normally dour, pessimistic man she knew, well, the pessimism was staying for the moment, but dour did just not do justice as an adjective at the moment, something more like 'fanatical' and play 'crazy' would have worked to describe him in comparison to his usual state.

"Look, there's no one here, there's nothing to do. What if they don't bother to come back to drink?"

"And if they don't..." Joe countered, "you'll be out of a job, so make yourself look busy, and maybe we'll have people to wait on later. Go sweep the floor or something," he said, once again observing the book silently, completely absorbed in his examination of the meaningless symbols and patterns of spaces and type.

"I've swept three times already, I doubt that it will make much of a difference if I do it a--are you even listening to me?" Virginia asked with a fairly shrill voice, having had practice at it through her years of marriage, and dealing with her formerly living husband.

Joe made a sound that sounded like some sort of assent, even though it was obvious to everyone who was not in the room, and the only other one who was, that he was not paying attention. Virginia fixed him with a glare that could have soured milk, even though all the milk they might have had was no doubt quite sour already. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to look up at her, so that she would know that she did have his attention.

Which didn't happen.

Fine, she thought, I can deal with that.

"I'm going out," she said, and Joe only repeated the same strange consenting sound.

"To see if there are any other places that do have customers. Or if we're all without them."

She waited a few moments, and with no other sounds, or words forthcoming from Joe, she rolled her eyes and headed out the door. The click of the latch closing was enough to make Joe look up for a moment.

"Where are you going?" he asked, while directed at Virginia, ended up being asked to no one in particular.


TBC
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Virginia
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Virginia's wanderings took her through nearly deserted streets, past what she hoped was a nearly deserted whore-house. If men were going to be giving up their drinking on account of being pious, and having been shown "the light" through a day of near and complete total darkness as it were, she sure hoped that they figured that spending time with women who were not their wives would most likely be one of those acts that angered God. But who could really tell the way that men's minds worked? Or God's for that matter.

She was approximately ten minutes away from the Boar's Head Tavern, where she worked, and now standing outside a rather seedy pub, more seedy than the Boar's Head, which was saying quite a bit. She peeked inside one of the wavy distorted panes of glass in the window, and was able to make out some moving forms. The glass was so dirty and smoky that she really could tell who was moving, or what, but she could tell there was movement. Which meant either that they were in the same boat as her and Joseph, or else they managed to have customers. Curses upon the damnable economics of Port Royal. The more "pious" on average had more wealth, and the ones who had "more" wealth were those who frequented her establishment.

She pulled the door open and was assaulted immediately with the sounds of some rowdy patrons. They weren't being noisy compared to what she was used to hearing, but anything after the dead stillness and silence that seemed to still hold the town under its sway was a bit of a shock. She made her way over to where the 'keep was distributing drinks and slid back there to help him out.

"'ey, ya don't work 'ere," he said when he realized that he didn't know the particular woman now assisting him.

"Lookin' for a job," she responded, taking a bunch of filled mugs from him.

"Fine," he said, and pointed to a table over in the corner, "those are for 'em."

"Right," she said, carefully making her way out and carrying the drinks over to them, slopping them down on the table.

The men hardly stopped their conversation for her, when she came with the drinks, only pausing for one or two of them to give her a not too sincere word of thanks.

"I'm parch't," one of them said, "Eleanor don't be wantin' me drinkin' with all that stuff going 'round yesterday. She says that be wot's causin' all that ruckus an' all."

"Well if women knew anythin' we'd all be in right trouble right 'bout now," another one responded, bringing a round of laughter from all the patrons at the table.

One of the quieter ones at the table who had only politely laughed at the joke spoke up.

"Well, I think she knows sumthin'. We've a'had a whole lot a'trouble 'round these parts with pirates before. Not just recently I'm sayin'. I reckon that it is God's will, his justice, and he's punishin' us for the sins before."

"What d'you know about sin, Thomas? You wouldn't notice it if it were tatooed on a pretty woman's fore'ead."

Thomas blushed slightly, stammering as he spoke again, "Thanks for the suppor' George. But I'm serious. Morgan uset'a be big 'round these here parts. Piracy, lawlessness, and all that. You think we have a whole lot of taverns nowadays, there uset'to be more'n back then. We've made strides, but God must think that we're fallin' back an' all. I mean, we all thought we're on the path for the better'n then what happens? We're attacked by that Pearl crew, and ev'rythin' goes all topsy-turvey. Blacksmiths become pirates, ladies do too...and we start pretendin' that it's all right to let pirates walk. Female pirates too! We're right on our way to bein' a pirate col'ny all overs again."

One of the patrons laughed, before his companion sitting next to him hit him, to silence him.

"I agree, wit' Thomas. 'E's right. We're becomin' a colony of pirates again," he said, his words starting to slur slightly--a sign of how much he'd had to drink already.

"I said we're becomin' a colony of pirates again!" he yelled, standing. He slammed his mug on the table repeatedly until he had the attention of all in the room.

"Thomas is right. It's God's retribution for our sins. We're on our way to becomin' a town a'pirates again, and what's bein' done to stop it, huh? Who's doin' anythin' to stop the pirates, who, whenever they want, just come dancin' straight in 'ere. What's the Company doin'? They're making the problem worse--makin' us a tradin' center with prices so high, we've no recourse udder than turnin' to the black market to afford our goods. And who supplies those goods?" he said staring at each man in the room in turn.

"Who supplies those goods?" he yelled.

"Them pirates!" someone shouted from the other side.

"Yes!" He yelled.

"Tell 'em more, Jonathan!"

"I am, if you stop you're yammerin'," Jonathan continued.

"Why else d'you think them pirates are comin'ere? Mayhap it be that there ain't no one who's willin' to stand up to them no more? What's that damned Navy doin' 'sides enforcin' those dictates of the Company? What's the Governor doin' udder than cowrin' to them ev'ry time they want sumthin'? We're becomin' a pirate state, and no good citizen of the King should stand for that, nor any God-fearin' man. We're God-fearing men, ain't we?"

The assembled men shouted their agreement. They were no longer paying nearly as much attention to their drinks as they were now to the man's words.

"And what sins these pirates bring wit' 'em 'sides themselves? Whores! Yes, men, it's whores! Them whores who spread 'round their diseases--a sign of God's displeasure wit' them an' all those who consort wit' them. And what should we do to those who do not follow God's will?"

"Kill them!" a few yelled, and soon the shout was taken up by all in the room, chanting over and over again, "kill them! Kill them! Kill them!"

With one last round of drinks to cement their courage, they took to the streets looking for the quickest and most convenient target they could find.


(Aveline, you're good to post now if you wish.)
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Aveline
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Aveline put a hand up in front of her forehead, making a small shade for her eyes. The sun shone beautifully today, it was almost impossible to imagine that yesterday it had been black! Aveline was no very good Christian - she was the child of a whore, and had become one herself too... but it had frightened her, naturally, like it had frightened everyone. She'd been down towards the docks, trying to find a captain who might take her back to Tortuga, when it happened. Even the men were scared, and other women yelled up about the fury of God or a second round of pirates attacking the town. She faintly remembered it, it wasn't that long ago when the legendary Black Pearl had attacked Port Royal, and the pirates had apparently seemed impossible to kill. Which only added to the story about them being immortal. But the stories also said they never left any survivors, and even as she walked the streets today - there were certainly plenty of people in this town.

Yet that was now an old story, and it hadn't been something Aveline ever paid much attention to. No, she just preferred to survive, live her own life, make money so she could get a meal tomorrow too. And perhaps, once she had that meal, she would sing for someone. Like she'd sung at that tavern not long ago, and that black man - Amrad - had really liked her singing. And she'd felt oddly safe around him, as they'd walked back to his home afterwards. She hadn't seen him for a long time though, and one day seemed to blend into the next. She must have been in Port Royal for at least a month now. What had happened to her room in Tortuga, her belongings? Her shrine with jewellry! She had to get home.

So Aveline turned a corner to make it down towards the docks once more, and that was when she saw them coming. A large group of men, and none of them were smiling. Usually Aveline liked groups of men, because that might lead to work and gold, but today they seemed like ones she wanted to avoid. Would they avoid her? She still wore the red dress, with a low neckline and sewn in a way so men would know her business right away. Aveline made a slow turn on the spot, and walked back in the direction she'd come from, see if she couldn't find another way towards the docks.
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Alexander Hurst
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The streets were even more busy than usual in Port Royal as Alexander Hurst made his way through the marketplace. He was lucky enough to walk around in crowds without being spotted most of the time, and with the sun going black just recently, any attention on crimes he may or may not have committed were nearly forgotten.

His tall, lanky figure strode down the streets, ignoring the talk he heard about divine judgment. He figured, if the Good Lord wanted to punish humanity, he'd just up and kill them. There wasn't any reason to play around with blacking out the sun when he was the all-powerful deity.

He would have continued on like that, roaming the streets for something to do if he had not seen the most extraordinary shade of red fitted tightly on a woman as she passed by him. His eyes widened, for he above everyone he knew, was a lover of women. He adored them, and had no qualms with letting it be known...and that particular woman was one he happened to know very well indeed. She had been lost in Port Royal, and he gave her a place to stay. It was only the night before that he'd seen her, but a beauty like her was never to be passed without a compliment under any circumstance.

Quick as could be, he followed her until he caught up close enough to grasp her bare shoulder with his hand. He got as close as he could to speak softly in her ear, "Aveline, you're looking beautiful today." He smiled, hoping she wouldn't smack him for his surprising her like that.
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Aveline thought she shook the men off - besides the fact that the men didn't look friendly, she didn't feel like working right now - and walked more calmly again. Then a moment later, she was once more certain someone still followed her. Aveline sped up her pace, was she getting paranoid or something? She glanced over her shoulder but saw none of the men whom she'd seen before. Maybe she was just paranoid, and nothing would happen.

Then a hand suddenly touched her shoulder, and she gasped, startled. A moment later though, she heard a soft - and familiar - voice whisper to her ear. "Aveline, you're looking beautiful today." She turned to look into his smiling hopeful face, and wiped the surprised look off her face. She pretended to still be a bit annoyed about it though.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." Aveline said, sounding as if it wasn't anything special at all. But she knew Alex, he had been nice to her. Odd how Port Royal held several men, who apparently liked her for who she was, and not just her body. She wasn't used to it, but Alex had such a way with words, and the way he looked at her, that she believed him. They were friends, and they had done nothing more than people who were just friends should do. Yet, he knew what she was and she knew his business too. Two people of the underworld, befriending each other, able to talk and flirt with each other, but nothing more. She came a little closer to him.

"How have you been? Missing me?" She said sweetly with a sparkle to her blue-green eyes, looking into his.
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Alexander Hurst
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Alex's hand slid down Aveline's shoulder to her arm. She tried so hard to look cross with him, it was actually a bit of a pity he didn't believe her for one moment. "...Missing me?" He lived to hear a woman say that. Then again, he lived for a lot of things. His reply was an indirect answer, but the best one she'd get from him. "You have the sweetest voice," he said softly. Women of the night always were the best companions. They seemed to be the only ones as unashamed of bare skin and human interaction as he was.

"You're leaving me today, aren't you?" He pouted and looked at her with the saddest sort of eyes he could muster. He had enjoyed her company and was genuinely sad to see her go. Especially since he hadn't even had a chance to truly romance her, yet. "I'm not sure how I'll be able to occupy my time without you here." He grinned and took her hand in his, "At least let me give you something before you go." Leading her to a slightly more secluded area, behind the corner of a building, the thief touched her face gently.

"I'll miss you, you know," he leaned down slightly. "You've been brightening my days since you arrived." She was so lovely, he thought. He'd didn't know any other way to tell her, and in a language she could understand, he smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on her soft lips. So beautiful...there was no way he could stop himself from telling her before she left. How wonderful he thought she was. After all, it was a kiss. Not a lusty one, but a passionate one. He didn't care what sort of job she had. Alexander wasn't the sort of person to care about anything but the person's heart...and hers was remarkable.
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"You have the sweetest voice," Aveline closed her eyes briefly at his reply... the sweetest voice. She knew that. She was a singer, after all, and men loved to hear her sing. But to know they loved her singing, was one thing. To have someone tell her was another. She smiled to him, still sweetly. It was a compliment, but they didn't always need replies.

"You're leaving me today, aren't you?"

His pout and those sweet sad eyes made her grin, but then she grew serious again. "This is not my home, Alex... I don't know if I leave today, or tomorrow. But soon." Aveline explained to her with her naturally angelic sounding voice, she didn't even have to try sounding like that. She just did. And Alex said she had the sweetest voice. Perhaps he could come to Tortuga someday, and hear her sing. That would be nice, she thought. This was his home, and she even knew how it looked like from the inside. She should show him her home too.

"I'm not sure how I'll be able to occupy my time without you here." He grinned and took her hand, she smiled back at him but he didn't give her time to reply. "At least let me give you something before you go." He lead her to a more calm area, behind a building, and she came with him, giggling a bit thinking it was fun. It was as if they were hiding. So maybe Port Royal was a very proper city, and the nobles would just hate seeing a couple acting like she and Alex. But she didn't care, why should she? She leaned against the building, suddenly feeling very warm when he touched her face, and her eyes looked up into his again. Give her something before she left? What? She was usually the one giving men something, and usually for a fee.

"I'll miss you, you know," He leaned down towards her, and she unconsciously licked her lips. "You've been brightening my days since you arrived." Aveline tried to smile but suddenly she felt very young again, like she'd never done something like this before. Perhaps because he treated her nicely, and that for once a man wanted to give her something. Then Aveline felt her kiss on her lips, and she closed her eyes again when their lips touched. A gentle sweet kiss, not demanding or asking anything of her, other than that she allowed him to kiss her. Even after the kiss, she felt she'd remember it forever, and she opened her eyes, looking at his face, almost shyly again.

"I'll... miss you too." Aveline whispered, and her small fingers reached up and touched his face now, ran down his cheek and across his lips. "You must come to me, and brighten up Tortuga too." She said with a small grin. Aveline rarely had friends, and Alex was no more just a friend. They kissed, but understood each other. She'd never want payment from him, she thought, and continued, "I'd really like that."
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Alexander Hurst
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When he kissed her, Alexander felt the way he always did. Completely and utterly hers. For one moment, even if it was just for that singular moment, he belonged to her. He never kissed a woman he hadn't fallen in love with. To some it might seem like his love was cheapened, available so freely and without question. He just knew that he had a lot of love to give. He didn't want the kiss to end. Especially not if it was going to be the end, of seeing her, hearing her...it was such a pity.

She said he should come to Tortuga. The thought was tempting, especially if she was there, but he knew he had a job to do there in Port Royal. Her soft hand touched his face, he gave her fingers a quick kiss before they left and went back to her side. With one arm, he leaned on the building behind her, not even noticing how much like a potential client he must seem to anyone other than her. "I'd leave in a half a heartbeat if it weren't for my job, here," he grinned at her, "Someone's got to give all those stuffshirts a bit of trouble, and Tortuga is so lawless, no one would notice all the hard work I go to in order to make a stir."

He winked at her, his lusty, Scottish voice saturated with double meaning, "...'Course I wouldn't be opposed ta a visit now an' then." Alexander wanted to kiss her again, she was so full of life and completely intoxicating, but he refrained. Simply staring at her, hopeful she might find time to stay just a day longer. He was oblivious to the fact that in a moment's notice, everything could take a turn for the worst.
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Aveline didn't really feel she should think this over. Alex was being sweet to her, and she was being it to him - without wanting payment. It was so rare, so special, for more than ten years, life had been different. For more than ten years, she had only been sweet to men who gave her gold, money, jewels. But Alex, he had wanted to give her a kiss, and that's why she felt as if she'd never been touched before. Because she truly hadn't, not like that. Not in such a caring manner. And although she knew she had to leave, she liked Alex.

"I'd leave in a half a heartbeat if it weren't for my job, here," he grinned, a hand leaned on the wall behind her and Aveline felt a bit heated. Forgotten was the odd blockade of the sun yesterday. "Someone's got to give all those stuffshirts a bit of trouble, and Tortuga is so lawless, no one would notice all the hard work I go to in order to make a stir." He was being witty, as Alex was. She didn't say he should come now, Aveline thought, but just... sometime. It would be such a nice break to her daily work. "...'Course I wouldn't be opposed ta a visit now an' then."

The way he stared at her actually made Aveline blush, but then she looked back up into his eyes. "What if it's not your choice to make... what if I'll be very sad, if you don't come to visit me?" She asked, taking her eyes from his and looking away with purpose, as she made her soft voice sound a little sad, "... you wouldn't make a girl sad, would you?"

Then she looked back up into his eyes with a playful glimpse to her eyes. Aveline was skilled at this, and even if she knew Alex first as a friend, and now perhaps more, she still knew how to wrap a man around her and her finger. "I'll just have to give you a reason to come to me, because you can't get enough." She laid her hand around his neck and pulled his face closer and kissed him again, this time not so sweetly and gently as he kissed her before. But she wanted to see Alex, he would brighten up the life that was merely a life of survival in Tortuga. Perhaps... beyond this life that she lived, there was more to it? It was a hope, but she always had hope, and would always have, hopefully. Alex gave it to her.
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Alexander Hurst
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There was nothing as tempting as a confident woman. He loved it. Alex grinned at Aveline's words. He didn't mind being wrapped around her dainty fingers, in fact, he would prefer it. Standing strong against temptation was not Alexander's strength. He was much more talented at giving into temptation. One could say he was a master at it.

She leaned forward to kiss him and he returned it. Things like this were his very favorite. Moments like these were the ones he lived for. No matter that he'd felt this way about many women before her, and odds were, many after...for this moment he was all hers. He smiled to her in between a kisses, "What sort of man d'you take me for?" He kissed her again before whispering, "I could never make a woman like you sad." He'd live an breath to make her smile...and oh so much more.

His hand moved down the wall and he came closer, till there was no space between them. A man like him and a woman like her could hardly be called 'proper'. He didn't owe anyone in this who colony a thing, he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it. Maybe, if he kissed her sweetly enough, she'd stay just a little longer. He wouldn't need all that much time to give her a proper farewell party. The thought of it burned him up inside, the idea that unkind eyes might be watching still failed to occur.
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Virginia
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The mob had had enough sense and ability to plan that they had sent a few of its members ahead to look around. After all, if they were going to go to the trouble of leaving their ales, they'd rather that they accomplished something that day, instead of wandering around aimlessly...though no doubt they would have found some sort of riotous activity to occupy all of it's members as some point or another.

One of the younger lads with the group, son of one of the members, slipped ahead and had followed the young woman in the bright red dress, to when she met with the man. He had jumped behind a barrel and sat there watching the two, not quite able to make out their words, but certainly able when he peeked out to see what they were doing--and it was an activity that should not have been occurring between an unmarried man and woman, as was what he guessed they were. Well...and her dress and loose stays did tend to imply another sort of...disreputable profession all together...

The boy had seen enough that he felt he should return and tell his father. He turned and dashed away, his short legs working twice as hard to make up for their small length, and tiny stride. He dashed around another corner, coming closer to the docks and the mob which had stalled, while a couple of men argued amongst themselves, and the others started to mill about and look bored. One or two members apparently had had enough of the inaction and were quickly increasing the distance between themselves and the rest of the group.

The boy spied his tall father's balding head above the rest of the crowd towards the center, and slipped between two others, darting in and out, occasionally raising his voice to get someone to move out of his way when there was not enough room between the press of bodies to slip through.

"I saws one of them, she's over with some man that way," he said trying to point, but instead only smacking one of the men's legs.

No one bothered to pay attention to the young lad, so absorbed were they in their discussion on which way they should go, that they failed to see that one person had already found a course to take. Finally, by smacking his father's leg repeatedly, and by grabbing his hand tugging on it, was he able to gain anyone's attention, and deliver his message.

Pleased that their gathering and wanderings would not be in vain, the mob continued the way the boy had come from, not bothering to disguise their noisy approach. The low murmur of their talking could be heard. One voice raised slightly over the others to lament the fact that no one had brought any feathers, and that they were fresh out of tar.

Turning the last corner they spied the couple, and a few distinguishable shouts could be heard over the cacophony of sound from the mob. "Whore!" being the most prominent of them.

The group increased their speed as they came around, shouting, resembling some sort of peasant army that looked more like it belonged in the Dark Ages.
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Aveline
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Alex returned her kiss - of course, she thought, why wouldn't he? He had started kissing her, after all, and now she was asking for it, he gave it to her. Alex was like that. He joked, said he'd never make her sad, and it made her sigh between the kisses. It was rare Aveline allowed herself to drift away and actually dream, but right now she did. Dreamt of a man to protect her and take care of her, and never ever hurt her. She knew Alex could not be that man, she didn't imagine him to be the type of man who'd marry and settle down. And that's what made him special, and made her like him, because despite all that he was one of the kindest men she met. She wasn't falling in love, though... just accepting the facts.

The space between them was suddenly gone, he had her pinned against the wall... Aveline had been in alike situations countless times before, but he didn't pay to do this and she let him. Wrapping her delicate hands around his neck, kissing him further but whispering between kisses; "We ought to head somewhere more... private..." Her hands ran down his back, "I want to be entirely alone... with you..." She smiled, and was about to kiss him again when she heard shouts in the distance, shouts that made her return to reality and she broke the kiss, turning her head in direction of the voices while gently pushing him a bit off her to be able to watch better.

A mob was coming their way, seemed like some of the same she had tried to avoid earlier. They came closer and she made out one word in particular, "Whore!" The word stung her, even though they were right. Of course she was a whore, but she didn't like the word. Only men who looked down upon women, and especially women like her, used such a word. And these did, while they were clearly heading for her. Now coming faster, seeming out of their right minds. She felt a shiver by the look of them, this wasn't right.

"We should go, now..." Aveline said quickly looking into his eyes again. "This doesn't look good." She reached down for his hand, and nearly dragged him off down the alley in an attempt to get away from the mob.
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Alexander Hurst
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Able Seaman
[ * ]
Oh, this would be good. Aveline knew how to make him completely hers. He didn't resist, after all, he was perfectly used to falling into temptation with a whole heart. She knew he wasn't the sort to settle down, but he'd love her. For all the women he'd wooed in his day, he knew how to make a woman writhe with pleasure or smile with contentedness. He was a lover and he planned on making that abundantly clear to her.

He'd make love to her right on the ground where they stood if it weren't for the lack of comfort she'd have. He did have a home and he'd take her there...show her what it meant to be adored. That's what he was good at...lost in the reverie of kisses and expectation the word "whore" came at him like a lightning bolt. The look on Aveline's pretty face was enough to make him feel like fighting even though he was very much a pacifist. There was no such thing as a whore in his vocabulary. It was a word used by morons and stuffshirts.

Before he got a chance to open his big mouth and make the situation worse for both of them, Aveline nearly tugged his arm out of it's socket in an attempt to go the other way. He followed at first but quickly was at her side, "We'll lose 'em. The dirty idiots..." He smiled at her, able to smile because this was not the first time he had been chased by a group of violent men. With his hand firmly around hers, he turned a corner. If they were so bent on a chase, he'd give them one. This was his town...he knew it like the back of his hand. The route in his mind began to take shape. He knew just the place to hide...if they could get there in time. If the mob wasn't too big or fast and caught them first, he thought he just might be able to get them out of the mess they were in.
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Virginia
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NPC
[ * ]
(OOC--Okay, I'm not sure there is entirely too much for me to do in response, asides from chasing, so this post is going to be a bit shorter than usual, and I'll be taking a few liberties about the chase, so that I can set it up for Ataa, Amrad, and others to jump into the fray)


The mob surged after the fleeing couple, following them around turn after turn, through streets and alleys--loosing a few of their members as they ran. Some of the younger and smaller members could not keep up, as well as the older members, and as the chase wore on--not for very long, the mob was being reduced to its more physically fit members. A few, despite the difficulties in doing so, continued to keep up yelling and chanting, not quite as loud now as when they were only walking towards their targets, but you could still make out the calls.

A couple of the mobs individuals, still blessed somewhat with the ability to think for themselves, decided that they could take off from the rest of the mob and take an alternative route that would allow them to circle around and cut off the retreating two.

A few others still, stopped at other inns along the way, seeing what they could do in the way of recruitment to get others to join their cause, and help bolster their numbers. A few joined, but for the most part, the men and women were more interested in their drinking to spare a thought, or the time and effort to go after a few other people who did no other thing wrong, than to be at a specific place, at a specific time.

A few of the mobs members were very quick and about to overtake Alex and Aveline when the rest of the mob's shouts, attracted some additional attention.
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Aveline
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Deckhand
[ * ]
Quickly Alex was by her side, and Aveline was thankful he was there - he still knew the city better than she, and it appeared he knew quite a few shortcuts too. He promised they would loose the mob, and she nodded, hoping for that to be true. He held her hand firmly as they turned a corner, and another. Aveline wanted to run faster, which wasn't all that easy when wearing a dress as she did. With her free hand she grabbed a piece of her dress, lifting the skirt just a bit so her legs could be more free, run more easily.

She turned her head every now and again to see who was behind them - the mob seemed thinner now, but there were still people following them, and these were people who actually could follow. If only she wasn't wearing a skirt! It was rare she thought about how annoying it could be to be a woman, but this was one of the times she was reminded. And a woman of her rank too. She still didn't know why they were following her, and Alex, but she knew she wanted to get away. Go home to Tortuga. She heard their calls and shouts behind them... her breath began to run out, she needed a break and that soon.

"Alex... stop..." she said panting as they rounded another corner, and for a moment she let go of his hand while she leaned against another wall. "I don't... understand..." Aveline tried to say, but then she looked up again. No, she didn't understand at all. More people - clearly also on the track of Aveline and Alex - came from the other side too, and she rose, staring at them. Whatever they planned, whatever the reason for why the mob followed her and Alex, it seemed like they were caught... she hoped he had an idea, but didn't dare to count on it.

"Please don't!" she cried out, realizing there was no escape. She couldn't quite tell them she did nothing wrong, because she did. Perhaps not in the eyes of the law, but in the eyes of God. She sold her body to men. She was a whore, no matter how she tried to put it, no matter how much she hated the word. What to do, who could help her now, if not Alex? Should she... oh she probably had to... she rarely played this part, but it seemed the best option. Right now she was a damsel in distress, and so she tried to attract attention with shouting the best possible word for the situation; "Someone... HELP!"
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Amrad Ali Saraad
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Ordinary Seaman
[ * ]
Amrad was drinking in a tavern, like most of the town usually did at this time of day. People went away from their works and decided to spill away the thirst of a day’s work away along with most of their pay. The Moroccan didn’t mind, each man had to make his own choices, or let them be made for him. Amrad wasn’t here to spill away his money, but more to spill his time. Kirke often banished him from the house, mostly when he copulated with women he wasn’t wed to. The fact that Kirke fulfilled his needs outside the wedlock didn’t bother Amrad in the slightest, since it was the brigadiers own choice who he bedded, but the fact that he was banished from the house any time it happened grated his nerves. How was he supposed to protect Kirke if he kept sending him away. Amrad took a deep gulp of his tankard of rum, it wasn’t his job to criticize the man though, he just had to make do with what he got and on overall, drinking to waste time wasn’t that bad…

The room wasn’t too calm though, the entire tavern was buzzing with tales of what had happened yesterday. Amrad wasn’t too worried, just a solar eclipse, Arabian scholars had long since devised what it was and though the big man had never seen one before yesterday, he had read about it. Astronomy was a useful thing to know in a hunter’s profession, just like that of a soldier. These men here didn’t know though and spent their entire evening whispering above their ale-cups, talking about magic and divine wrath. Their stupidity and ignorance would normally been easy to ignore, but for some reason it irritated Amrad too. The big brute was irritable today, probably because he was feeling rather worthless and he didn’t like that. Normally he’d drown that doubt in duty or drink, but he felt no need for the second and had no opportunity for the second. Sighing inwardly he downed the last of the drink and walked over to the bar, silently signalling he’d take his leave and pay his bills. The owner didn’t dally, just told him the amount he owed, took the money and wished him a good evening, something Amrad accepted with a slight nod of the head. He’d really like a good night, with clear skies and silver stars and a musket in his hand to hunt…or a fishing pole to wait for them to bite the bait. Maybe even a woman…He just wanted to really take his mind of things for a while, but things aren’t always that easy to take off one’s mind.

Amrad took a turn to the right when he left the pub, pausing a few steps out as he pulled his pipe and lit the tobacco from a small lantern hanging at the entrance of another pub. He put the silver-studded smoking apparatus on his mouth, taking a soft puff to let the smoke circulate in his mouth before breathing it out in a long relieved sigh. Alone was so much better than in that cramped common room, having to listen to the babble of baboons and small-minded fools. The night had a much softer voice and though it was slightly chilly, it definitely beat the confined warmth of the pub. To be true, the only thing that the pub had to recommend it was drink, but Amrad’s thirst was quenched…His big booted feet made scarcely a sound as he walked through the silent street of the colony, enjoying the peace that seemed so fragile in the places man habited.

Fragile and easily broken it was indeed, and humanity broke it. A sound in the distance, like a low rumbling caught his attention and Amrad cocked his head to the sound. It was like speech, but normal conversations did not carry this far even on silent, dry nights such as these. His curiosity was peaked, especially since the sound seemed to be moving. It wasn’t something like a tavern brawl or a street party. Those things were usually pretty stationary. It might be a procession of drunkards, but it seemed to move too fast for that and as the shouts drew closer, it didn’t sound happy enough. Amrad frowned, his curiosity peeked and took a course that would bring him closer to the sound. He tapped his pipe out in his hand and put it away as he drew ever closer, those shouts, though still incomprehensible in the distance and in their heavily slurred accent didn’t promise much but trouble. Amrad didn’t like to have his pipe in his mouth during trouble, the thing could break and this was his favourite one. He rounded the last corner that separated him from the scene of such noise and saw the backs of quite a few men, gathered around what seemed to be a woman. As far as the Moroccan could make out, they were blaming her and all other whores of being in league with the devil to cause yesterday’s eclipse. Stupidity…

"Please don't!"

He heard the cry over the shouting voices and threatening blustering and he knew that voice. It was that of the little songbird, Aveline, with her French name and soft curves. Normally Amrad would’ve sighed and walked on, but for some reason the breath of that sigh, the feeling of resigned acceptation of what was to happen didn’t come. It was strange to the big Moroccan, but he felt a certain amount of…peevishness, not just irritation but rather an inclination to violence. Something that wasn’t uncommon though, Amrad thought, there was violence on the air. The conformity in the goal of mindless destruction and aggression hung around this mob, the strange thing however was not that Amrad felt it, but that he did not direct it to poor Aveline…Wait…Was that compassion?…

"Someone... HELP!"

For some reason, that did it to Amrad, that plaintive plea for aid, though not directed specifically at him had the same effect as an order. Maybe the need to drown his doubts in observance of orders was great enough to escape the hold of self-preservation or affective flattening. He silently advanced on the men, missing not a beat of step in his measured pace towards them. His face betrayed no outwards emotion as he came near enough to hear a few of these men chuckle in a kind of sick delight, a delight Amrad knew all too well. He stepped up just behind a man near the right edge of the encirclement, the edge were less men stood and raised his boot with a practised easy. His leg zipped up between the man’s legs with tremendous force, impacting solidly into the man’s family jewel with a sound that made men wince. The victim took a wheezing breath in, dropping the cudgel he had been holding and falling to his knees, cradling his wounded pride. Amrad marched up besides the man, not pausing as he kneed him in the face as he passed. The man beside the one now collapsed turned sharply to be met with Amrad’s great fist, swung with an almost careless vehemence. It snapped the head back, sending the man to the floor with a thud. Amrad didn’t pay him too much attention, just kicked the cudgel of is first victim upwards into his grasp. It was a stout stick of wood, probably the handle of a sledgehammer or pickaxe, quickly undone to form a weapon. Amrad’s voice was very soft as he spoke.

”Such greatness of arms against so small an opponent…”

He took the shaft in one hand and looked around him, sliding his centre of gravity down as he bent his knees, ready to strike, his eyes shot fire as he locked eyes with each of them. Amrad normally wouldn’t have bothered, but for some reason he didn’t berate himself for his stupidity…there seemed to be no more doubts…
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James Gray
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Warrant Officer
[ * ]
Jemmy saw people gathering together, they came out of the Boar’s Head Tavern but he didn’t think about it at first. They sounded like they were making a noisy street party, they were shouting different things but it all mixed together so that he didn’t guess what they were up to. He had other things to think about. The black day yesterday had freaked him out in a way that nothing else did in a long time, it was wrong and unnatural and what happened in the blackness was something he didn’t want to remember. Today it was bright out and the air was clear, the wind was enough to make it so that it didn’t feel stifling like so many days were.

He looked up at the bright, bright sun and squinted for a little bit and then he looked down into the road, his eyes were shaded by his hat brim. He wore his uniform on liberty today, everything except for his crossbelts and musket. The Kingston marines that were crawling every where like they owned the anthill made him want to wear the uniform all of the time just to prove that he was what he was. Something about the darkness yesterday made him want to prove it too. In the eerie nightfall he felt like he was slipping away from himself.

He was walking everywhere today because he couldn’t stay still in one place for long. It was like he was trying to catch up with something, but he didn’t know what. Or maybe it was like something in his mind was chasing him out of the places that he went, he left the tavern and the gambling hall earlier in the day after just a few minutes. Walking seemed like it cleared his mind. Maybe he was trying to catch up with what was chasing him.

Walking did clear his mind because it was after he was briskly striding down the street for a few minutes after he first saw the group of people outside the Boar’s Head that he shook his brain out of the confused state it was left in after the horror of everything in the past few days. Why was there a street party at this time of day and actually why was there a group of so many people at all? It was worth finding out. He turned around to follow the men, he sprinted to catch back up with them and make up for the couple of minutes that opened the distance between them, he left his other thoughts behind.

Something was wrong with all of this. He knew as soon as he heard wild yips and yells in the distant streets. Men were shouting and chanting things and one of them came clear through the air. “Kill them! Kill them! Kill them! Kill the whores!” Jemmy raced toward the sound of the mob, his hands felt really empty and he wished he had his musket but even without his weapon he might be able to make a difference. He was in uniform as a soldier and they might think twice about ignoring an order that came from a marine. Whatever was happening it had to be stopped and he had to do what he could to stop it. This was insanity, it was mob violence and it was his duty to protect and serve.

He saw a hoe sitting by a doorway, it might have gotten dropped by one of the men in the mob or maybe the house owner just left it out carelessly. Whatever, it was a weapon and he snatched it up, he set his foot against the metal end and jerked the wood handle with his hands until it snapped close to the metal. He swung the short staff of the handle over his shoulder and he ran on. If it came to the worst he was trained to fight and the men in the mob weren’t, they might break to run if they were faced with somebody who knew what he was doing.

He heard a woman cry “Please don’t!” and Jemmy felt a white rage go through him when he heard her desperate shout, “Someone…HELP!” There was fear in the woman’s voice and he knew that she was the one that was in danger from the mob. God knew what they were going to do to her, rape and lynch her…but Jemmy was not going to stand by without raising a hand to defend her. He could see the backs of the roaring, laughing and chanting mob in a square at the end of the street he was in, they were closing in on their victims. He was running as fast as he could and he closed the distance up fast.

There were two people who were backed up against a wall of a house or a shop, there were a large number of men that were in a half circle around them. Jemmy didn't see yet that it was Aveline, the woman he met a few nights ago. There was one other man that came from another street over from the one Jemmy ran down, he was just ahead of Jemmy. Jemmy thought he was part of the mob until he saw Amrad pounce, he swung his boot up into the crotch of one man from behind and then he crashed another man’s face with a huge fist before he grabbed up a club from one of the fallen men and pulled back. He was an enormous black man that towered over every other man there, and they were on the same side.

“Such greatness of arms against so small an opponent…” he said with a heavy accent. Jemmy stepped forward out of the mouth of the street that he was in, the big man had gotten the mob attention but neither of them were going to do great against that many opponents on their own. He took a station at Amrad’s side, he left enough room for the other man to move but he was ready to close in with Amrad if the big man wanted to protect each other’s backs. Jemmy said in a voice that didn’t have a rumbling growl like Amrad’s soft menace but it was a very clear and sharp order, “Leave the woman and her friend alone.” He held the hoe handle ready and he crouched down like a smaller cat than Amrad the tiger. Maybe a leopard but almost as dangerous. He was ready to strike as well.
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Alexander Hurst
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Able Seaman
[ * ]
They were running, turning corners rapidly to avoid being killed. Alex was used to being chased, but very rarely with a fully clothed woman. It made it harder, and when she needed a small break, he looked at her with eyes wide from the adrenaline pumping through his body. He was about to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, if that would have helped. Sadly, there was no time to do anything. Time began to blur.

He watched in horror as the mob came at them. For no reason...he had not done anything wrong. Neither of them had...even though Alexander rarely used society's definition of 'right and wrong', though even in this case, they had done nothing to provoke a mob. He'd stolen nothing, not even the kiss they shared. It wasn't for money. Stupid mobs.

Aveline was in trouble, hands were grabbing at her. She was screaming for help. Colors and sounds blurred, though Alex was not in any better shape. They were after him as well. "Gerroff me!" He shouted, his normally placid face was the picture of anger. That's what it took to make him truly upset...a murderous mob. "Don't you touch her!" He shouted again and took a swing at a man in the mob, his quickness worked to his advantage and the punch landed right in the man's head and sent him spinning around. Alex managed to dodge a punch aimed at his own head and kicked someone behind him into the mob, trying to keep close to Aveline. The world truly was a twisted place if this was what resulted from two people seeking to share each other's company to escape a lonely night! "No!" Alex's eyes were glued on Aveline, desperate to hold on to her and some how wish themselves away from this.

Reality came with a fist aimed right at him. Alex couldn't escape. He was stuck, unable to weasel himself away even if he tried. There was a blow to his face, and then his back. Before long, his arms were being held and his stomach was receiving a beating. Oh, Aveline. She was worth it. She was a woman...and Alexander loved women more than anything else. Another blow to his face made his lip split open, spitting out blood. "What? That's the best you've got?" Alex's voice was far too confident for his position and the challenge made his attacker's nostril's flare. Bad choice of words...but then again, Alex had never had tact when it came to men.

The man's arm raised and his greasy mob-mates smiled when the punch was stopped in mid air. There were other voices...people answered brilliant Aveline's desperate cry. He couldn't be of much help at the moment, but his mind was already spinning, looking for some way to escape the mob if just for long enough to snatch Aveline and get away.
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Aveline
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Deckhand
[ * ]
The mob was far more close than Aveline liked. They attempted to grab her, their eyes filled with madness… yet some looked her over with hunger, mad hunger, as if they wanted to punish her for being who she was – with taking what she usually offered, but this time unwillingly. She hated Port Royal, why had she not gone home to Tortuga yet? Alex did his best to defend her, trying to fight and Aveline did the same, kicking at them, but she and Alex were cornered against a wall and there was no escape. Noone seemed to have heard her cry for help either, in fact she thought she saw some of the men in the crowd laugh when she had called the word. Telling her noone would help her, but that they would help themselves with her… this was a nightmare!

Aveline saw them hold Alex, beating him up, and then she felt a pull in her own arms and body, tearing her away from Alex. “Please…” she begged them as they tossed her up the same wall, but now further away from Alex. Just then, true chaos seemed to arrive. Like a beast through the crowd, she could hear they were fighting and she heard another voice mix with the rest. A deeper voice, with an accent telling her he wasn’t from around her. She recognized it too… what was his name, Amrad? If it had been any other situation she would have grinned for him coming, after all, she saw him take out another crowd at a tavern once. It had frightened her, but she was at the same time sure he would not harm her. Until he gave her to his master, Kirke, of course. That had not been pleasant, and Amrad had done nothing to protect her. Now he did, though, and she was more thankful than ever.

She heard another voice too, another asking the mob to leave ‘the woman and her friend alone’, and that sounded familiar too. But there was chaos around her, and she could not hold her focus long enough to find out who it was. All she knew was that she was pinned against a wall, and that they apparently wanted to punish her. For what, she had not yet found out… so far she only understood that it was because she was a whore, that they wanted her to pay for her sins. And Aveline’s body was way too fragile to keep the fight up for long yet, although she tried her best. “I’ve done nothing to you!” She spat, but they just laughed again. “Nothin’?” One replied with heavy sarcasm in his voice, and Aveline found herself wishing they’d just kill her now. She was always a survivor, just wanted to live... but now, she didn’t want to live through this, didn’t want to experience what they wanted to do to her only to be killed afterwards.
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Amrad Ali Saraad
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Ordinary Seaman
[ * ]
(OOC: If anything's wrong with the post, give me a PM and I'll change it)

Amrad stood there, at the edge of the circle of seething madness frozen by his own arrival, gazing at the mob with a look of cold, ironclad resolve and a certain level of defiance. His pitch-black eyes were darker than the night itself and showed no insight in the man that used them to see the world. They could’ve just as well been a pair of holes staring into frozen oblivion, with nothing to show but a kind of flatness that was disconcerting to any man. The big Moroccan knew he was badly outnumbered, but he had no doubts about his actions, he would fight as he had been trained and the outcome could only depend on how good he would fight and how well he could play them. From his side appeared a lone man though, dressed in red and armed with a heavy hoe. A marine armed with a weapon convenience and circumstance, his musket probably lying locked up in the barracks. A grievous oversight, but the man could not have predicted he would come face to face with a mob this night. Neither had Amrad known, otherwise he’d have brought his heavy sword and pistols, maybe even some grenades, but what is done is done and his choices were long past. He had his knife for in case things got really ugly and he had a piece of wood to increase his range. He needed little else. The marine tried to order the mob to disperse and leave these people alone, but they didn’t listen of course, such was the nature of crowds that they only listened to their own stupidity and baser instincts.

“Leave the woman and her friend alone.”

In a way it was good that the marine had voiced both their demands in one short sentence, it gave the crowd another alternative then fighting and getting hurt. That wasn’t what most of these men had signed up for, they wanted to see blood and maybe even get a poke at one of the whores they caught, but on overall weren’t willing to risk life or limb in this stupid endeavour. Just as well really. Amrad gave the marine a short look and nodded once.

”Welcome to the fight, sir…”

His eyes once more went over every man in the crowd as a kind of deliberate, slow smile drew across his broad face. There was no mirth in that smile and it was icy, with no change in his eyes evident to show that anything had changed about his will to fight.

”Shall we show these dogs the price of disobedience to the king’s commands?”

The question was asked in the same tone as all things he had said, but delivered with a kind of note of dreadful finality. It wasn’t really a question and it brought up all those nasty little thoughts about mortality and human suffering. Amrad was playing this crowd just as much as he was going to fight it. First he showed them that he found violence a completely valid means to an end, which he had demonstrated on the two poor men lying besides him. Then he had demonstrated his certainty and confidence by waiting so long and speaking in such a way. Now it was time to back it up again with more violence. Most of these men were used to only tavern brawls, where it was every man for himself. Amrad was quite a bit up from the normal brawler and he towered over most of these men like a titan. To their surprise however, he was also very fast. His great body surged forward and the timber struck in a horizontal arc, just at knee-height of the man that had been hammering the blond guy in the face. The crunch when it hit was very satisfying and the screams that followed more so. Amrad rammed the thick wood into the area just below the plexus of one of the men holding on to their captive, and drove his knee into his face as he bent over, then quickly surging back to his original position to avoid being closed in by the surprised group, then lashing out again…
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James Gray
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Warrant Officer
[ * ]
They were all crazy, Jemmy could see it in their eyes that they were crazy, maybe they weren’t always insane but right now they were out of their minds with anger and lust and they wanted to see blood, they weren’t frightened of him and Amrad yet. They ignored Jemmy’s order and the ones on the edges turned to face them but he could see that they still had the woman and her friend, several of them had shoved the woman up against the wall and their hands were tearing at her skirts and he knew what was coming for her. They weren’t going to stop and take the choice that Jemmy gave them, the black man said it all. “Welcome to the fight, sir…”

Jemmy saw the black man smile but Jemmy’s face was not smiling, he had a look of blood intent on his face and he should have frightened the men if they were in their right minds. “Shall we show these dogs the price of disobedience to the king’s commands?” Dogs was right, Jemmy knew more about what was coming for Aveline than anyone could guess and when he heard her spit “I’ve done nothing to you!” Jemmy looked just once over at the black man to make sure that he still had the man beside him and that Amrad wasn’t backing out of the fight now, that was when Amrad moved and also two of the men from the crowd attacked. They went for Jemmy because he looked like he was the smaller and weaker of the two but Jemmy saw them start moving just in time.

One of them was swinging another cudgel at him but Jemmy brought his hoe handle up just in time to block it, he slammed his foot into the mans belly with a hard kick and he sent him staggering backward before he swung his weapon at the other man, the other man had a knife…Jemmy aimed for his hands and smashed the knife right out of his fingers, he knew from the scream that he broke the man’s hands but the other one was getting up and coming back for him and now the rest of the mob was moving. Some of them went for Amrad and he saw one of them had gone around to sneak up behind the black man, Jemmy shouted to warn him but he had too much to worry about for him.

Like Amrad he was retreating back to get out from being encircled by the mob and he bludgeoned another man in the side of the head before he felt something hit his back heavily and he stumbled forward, but it hit him on the wrong part to one side of his spine right where the muscle was thickest and he could recover fast from a blow like that. Jemmy turned around and he choked up on the handle to get himself a faster attack and he swung it at the man behind him but now he was closed in. Jemmy could try to fight his way out of the circle or he could go inward. The blond man that the mob was beating was still there and so was the woman, they might be able to fight as well if they had a chance. He just charged forward toward them swinging the weapon.

Jemmy had a lot of strength in his arms and he could do a lot of damage to men who didn’t really know how to fight and who weren’t expecting this mad charge forward so he broke through the crowd just mostly by surprise to the center by the wall where Alex and Aveline were. He smashed his hoe handle at the back of the knees of the man who was pinning Aveline to the wall but that was a wild attack that was judged bad and the man just dropped Aveline and he turned around to face Jemmy. But the other end of the hoe handle was already in the middle of the swing and it crashed into his face, the sharp splinters ripped up the skin of his cheek. The man reeled away with a loud howl and Aveline was free just for a little bit.

Jemmy didn’t come to the middle like this just to save Aveline and Alex though, he came there because he could put his back to the wall and make sure that noone came close. The lucky thing for them all was that nobody in the crowd seemed to have a pistol. Because now they didn’t want to come near him, just like Amrad had a radius around him that the men were afraid to come into. Amrad really was a terrifying juggernaut! He flattened several men already. There was just a little bit of a pause while everybody figured out the change in the situation and the mob drew back a little way from the fighting they never expected…but it wasn’t over yet…
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Aveline
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Deckhand
[ * ]
Aveline had closed her eyes, as if not being able to see would make it all go away. Of course it wouldn't. They were fighting and roaring, and two other men seemed to fight all those apparently longing to rape her then lynch her - and Alex too, for that matter, she guessed. She heard the two newcomers shout things, but couldn't make out the words. She was pinned, unable to escape, and she felt a pull in her skirts, heard and felt the fabric tear apart and she wished she believed in God - then at least she could have prayed to him. But a prostitute, a woman selling her body to men... it just didn't seem right, that she claimed to believe, so she didn't. Right now though, she wished she did.

Even if it felt like her skirts were shorter than before, she didn't feel any cold there. No, there was a body close to hers, pulling the skirt further upwards, and she felt his heavy breath near her face along with the disgusting smell of it. She had given up the struggle, there seemed to be no point. Today was the day she'd stop dreaming and hoping, today was the day she would not do anything ever again. Just then, she heard the man growl in pain, before letting her go. Aveline's eyes fluttered open, the man was gone. And everywhere there was fighting, men fighting, why did they always fight? She thought of herself, couldn't afford by the moment to think of anyone else, and she snaked herself along the wall, away from the scene, not even taking in why the man turned away. She didn't have time.

Her back hit a doorhandle and she didn't think twice before opening the door, and slid in behind it. When it was closed again, she leaned against the door from the inside, taking in a deep breath. Then suddenly a child showed up in the faintly lit entrance hall she was in, and it stared at her. A small boy. Aveline put a finger in front of her mouth, trying to tell the child to be quiet. "Moooom!" The boy then cried out, and Aveline knew she'd be thrown out the moment said mom got there. So she showed herself out the door before anyone could react, and glared at the mob again. She was a little to the right of it.

Not caring about her looks, the fact that both her dress and shift was torn, she began to run away from it. Someone then caught her from behind, and Aveline fell backwards into a pair of strong arms and closed her eyes once more, not even caring to struggle. She would not get away. She should stop trying, stop hoping - apparently it was no good anyhow.
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Creejak
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Warrant Officer
[ * ]
((Sorry if this is disjointed. I haven’t used these fellows in a good few weeks. Got to try and find them again, eh.))

Something odd and peculiar was not necessarily odd or peculiar to either of the two brothers; after all, ten years of their lives had been spent and the undead and as such mortality was just a touch different. It wasn’t at all exceedingly shocking, though it was a bit of a surprise, to peer outside and discover that the skies weren’t clouding over but rather fading, and that the moon, when she rose full and round, was a horrible ruby red colour, like a drop of blood in the diseased heavens.

Something was clearly amiss.

“Oy,” Mallot called upon noticing the sky had been pitch black, and after receiving no attention for his hollering, hurled a fallen brick from the crumbling wall down the flight of stairs and into another wall, where the plaster crumbled and drew up a cloud of dust.

Eventually, his older brother appeared with a lit lantern and a peculiar look of contentment on his face.

”S’dark!” Mallot chimmed happily as though he had been the first to notice the odd state of things. Grapple merely nodded and went about the abandoned plantation home lighting a few more candles throughout the already darkened mansion.

When all the darkness began to pass and a new, much brighter day dawned, Mallot had braved traveling to the odd half-floor of the home, he crept onto the landing and down it’s eerie hall to find his brother in the old nursery, standing on the small balcony and staring out into the wild forest that cradled the eastern side of the plantation.

”We should go into town. Find out what all that was about.” The gruff voice muttered, Grapple not turning to face his sibling. Silently, they agreed, andafter making themselves look reputable and less obviously desolate, they set off, the small mule Grapple had stolen weeks ago too nervous to move at first and delaying them by a good hour.

Curious as to how the fluke, dark day had affected a recent acquaintance of his, the older of the two brothers kept checking his vision to the east of the island, towards where the grander, more lavished and rich homes and families stood. For a long while as they walked, he seriously contemplated simply going and checking, yet thought better of leaving his brother behind. Who knew what state the town would be in when they got there.

The streets were vacant. Businesses were closed, hitching posts absent of any animals, and the general stillness of the town sent an odd sensation through the two men. Swallowing hard, they proceeded into an area they hoped would be more populated, and yet became wearier as they neared the larger market and found nary a soul about.


”Tavern, then?” Mallot suggested lightly, though there was a detectable note of curiosity in his voice that was hard to miss. Grapple, or rather Maynard as he would tell anyone now that they were in town, nodded silently and they spent their time in and out of taverns, questioning whoever would talk about the incident, sorting out the nonsense from the facts, and ordering the occasional drink. For once, they both agreed that although the beer was tasty enough, they needed their wits about them for some reason. Something had happened to the skies and the moon, and it was going to affect people in unpredictable ways.

At one point, Mallot swore he saw an old ‘friend’ of sorts, a woman who they had helped out walking along the road a few blocks down, but he didn’t pursue it. It was likely she wouldn’t want to see them, let alone have a friendly chat, and Grapple was still a bit sore about his arm getting blasted through by a fragmented bullet. They continued, though perhaps perusing their old acquaintance would have been a better idea.

Large groups of inebriated men were never a good thing, especially when they had a cause in their clouded minds. Grapple, as both an occasional drunk and a bartender, knew this very well, as did his brother. Thus, upon turning a corner and coming up behind a rather intimidating fellowship of angry fellows, the two paused and seriously considering retreating back the way they came. However, the mob picked up the pace, and the brothers felt rather safe for a moment. Moments don’t last long, and their relief was extremely te