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| Boys Night Out; Horace | |
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| Topic Started: 8 Nov 2008, 11:22 PM (920 Views) | |
| Keegan McAllister | 8 Nov 2008, 11:22 PM Post #1 |
Foot-in-Mouth Disease
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Keegan hated to think he was a coward. After all the things he'd done, and all the things he'd been through, he hated the idea that he was being bested by Tortuga. He found himself more afraid of the town than of Beckett. At least with Beckett Keegan had an idea of what to expect. The town and the people in it were unpredictable lowlifes only out for themselves. It wasn't an atmosphere that Keegan was used to. At least in Port Royal, people might help you if you needed it. Maybe. Well, in Port Royal Keegan had his family and friends, and they would always help him. In Tortuga, he didn't have anybody. He had the tiniest bit of respect for Jack, and still sort of looked up to Norrington, but he didn't know how far he could trust them. Jack was a pirate, and Norrington had become one. The whole bloody island was full of pirates. So Keegan resigned himself to sticking around the Black Pearl. He hardly left the deck of the ship, and tried to weasel his way out of leaving its dock. He became very good friends with his hammock, and actually went looking for work to do on the ship so Jack or Gibbs couldn't make him do work that would take him into town. He hated to admit it, but he was more afraid of Tortuga as a whole than he was of the mishmash of men (and even a woman, God help them) who made up the Pearl's crew. He was also afraid that as soon as he stepped foot on land, Jack would take the ship and leave him behind, stranded there forever. It was a major effort to go through just to get rid of one measly cabin boy, but Keegan wouldn't put it past the louse. But then he was caught. He was napping in his hammock when Gibbs found him and ordered him to get more rum. Keegan tried to get out of it but to no avail. He was kicked off the ship, told to go to a specific tavern, where a crate of rum would be waiting. He lingered along the edge of the town, hovering where the wood of the dock met the cobbles of the street. He was torn between disgust at himself and fear of the town. He had done this before and everything had turned out all right. He still had his dagger with him, tucked in its usual place, and the bandage was tied securely around his right wrist. It didn't matter much in Tortuga if his brand was covered or not, but he had grown used to the feel of linen wrapped around his wrist. If people saw a scar they would stare, but a bandage they didn't care about. He took a deep breath and entered the crowds. Night was coming on, and things were starting to become more active. He hoped once again that no one would notice him, but he suddenly realized he was as tall as some of the grown men and women around him. Had he been that tall before, or did he only just now notice? He walked past a brothel and glanced at the ladies out of the corner of his eyes. They were more disgusting than attractive in his opinion, but some did have a certain appeal...None of them paid him any mind, since he was obviously a child and penniless. He didn't really care. He still remembered the whore he'd talked to during his first visit. He rubbed his cheek and grimaced. Finally he found the right tavern without incident. He glanced around while he hovered near the entrance, then ambled inside. As soon as he did he tripped over a sleeping man, and hurtled right into a table that held a card game. Whatever had been happening was disturbed, and Keegan looked up to find three angry men glaring at him. One pulled out a knife. "Uh...pardon me?" Keegan peeped. ((Anyone, let me know if I've done bad!)) |
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| Horace Tennyson | 20 Nov 2008, 01:34 AM Post #2 |
Apprentice Printer
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Stumbling out of the bar which he had just been kicked out of for making a pass at the barkeep's wife, Horace randomly chose a direction to walk in. His pride smarted a bit at being thrown out of the "establishment" (and Horace found it hard to even refer to it as one of those with air quotes). Honestly, how was he to know that it was his wife? He thought it was his daughter, and he was trying to strategically place himself to inherit a pub. After all, there could be worse things in life to be an heir to. And really, it wasn't all his fault. The woman couldn't keep her hands off him either, so the barkeep should at least hold his wife partially responsible. It was remarkable how much he'd changed in the (barely) two weeks since he had arrived here. He'd like to think he was a bit more independent. That probably was not so much to do with him as it was to do with his change in master. Eddington never would have just cut him loose and let him go out to entertain himself or any ladies, whereas...Master Ruben was pretty great in that way. He'd completely forgiven him for the whole kidnapping incident, in fact, he really preferred Tortuga to the dull civilisation of Port Royale, but he wasn't about to let Ruben know that. This still left the issue of being tossed out of a pub, and his hurt pride, and non drunken state to the forefront. Well, this was Tortuga, and there was no shortage of places where he could remedy this fact. The quickest solution is often the best one, and to that end, there was this lovely little pub right across the street. He headed over to it quickly, like it might disappear at any moment, and was stopped by some sort of jam right inside the door. "Hey," he said tempted to give the lad in front of him a push, "you wanna get a move on?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 23 Nov 2008, 07:42 PM Post #3 |
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Foot-in-Mouth Disease
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Keegan was trying to think of a way to avoid unnecessary castration. The man with the knife seemed all too eager to attempt such an operation, and looked like he had probably done it before. The others at the table weren't any more friendly in appearance. None of them were faces he recognized from the Pearl either. Just peachy. "Hey," he said, "you wanna get a move on?" Keegan looked over his shoulder and saw a boy standing there, or something of a boy. He looked a bit older than Keegan, from what he could tell. There was something a little off with him though. He looked too happy to be there in Tortuga for someone so young, in Keegan's opinion. What reason could there possibly be for someone like him to be there? But at that point in time, Keegan welcomed his rude interruption. He put on a pout and cowered a little before the men at the table, putting on his best puppy-dog-eyes impersonation. He pointed at the older boy. "It wasn't my fault see? This one pushed me in!" He quickly scuffled aside and gave the older boy a push. The man with the knife looked at both of them in puzzlement, his eyes drifting from the weepy lad to the newcomer. Then a horrible grin spread across his face and he pulled another knife from somewhere in his coat. Keegan's puppy-face dropped like a stone. "Dammit! The one pirate who knows how to count!" |
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| Horace Tennyson | 29 Nov 2008, 05:59 PM Post #4 |
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Sometimes the residents of Tortuga were just rude. He would have assumed that there was some sort of unwritten rule that would have prevented one Tortugan from keeping another from their drink, unless there was a direct conflict of interest. He didn't know what this lad's deal was, but he was definitely not moving, and not helping. "It wasn't my fault see? This one pushed me in!" Horace stumbled forward. What? Was the boy aiming for a fight? That could be the only reason for informing people that he'd shoved him, which he didn't, and if he was trying to instigate a fight, so help him...Horace gave a quick look to the men who the lad had directed his comment to, and decided that he'd better diffuse the situation. "I did no such--Oi!" he saw that one of the men on the inside had pulled a second knife out. Oh...this didn't look good. Not good at all. For being a man and all, he figured there was at this moment in time, only one very manly thing to do: run away. Horace turned around quickly, and was ready to dart through the door, but the other lad's reversal of their positions now had him in the way of Horace. And the door. Turnabout was fair play, Horace thought grinning, he shoved the lad through the door, and out of his way, and the moment they were outside, he grabbed the lad's hand, and dragged him behind him as he sprinted down the street. He didn't know why he'd grabbed him and dragged him along, he certainly hadn't made a good first impression on him and all, setting him to get his heart carved out and all, but he didn't really want to leave him there either. Horace saw and alley to his left, where he recalled having met with a very lovely lady who had shown him a...good time...and he darted down there, recalling that the alley had several branches that should enable them to lose the men if they were pursuing. He didn't know--because he wasn't willing to look behind him to see, nor could he really hear a whole lot except for the hammering of his heart. "Di'we'los'em?" he spat out, breathlessly. |
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| Keegan McAllister | 29 Nov 2008, 10:26 PM Post #5 |
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Keegan was edging toward the door as the man pulled out a second knife. He was hoping to make a quiet and nondescript getaway. Instead he was forcefully shoved out of the tavern by the older boy and actually did a backwards somersault over the cobblestones. He wasn't aware he could even do anything like that. At the end of the sault he stumbled to his feet, eager to be away, but suddenly his hand was jerked and he along with it. After initial panic he realized he was being dragged along by the older boy he had framed. This was very odd in Keegan's mind. Was this boy taking him somewhere to be punished or were they escaping? Tortuga couldn't actually have a soul in it who cared, could it? Either way, Keegan was keen to be getting away as soon as he could. As soon as the boy stopped dragging him. He was surprisingly strong for a Tortugan whelp, especially to a scrawny little merchant's son. "Di'we'los'em?" he spat out, breathlessly. Keegan almost tripped as he turned around to look behind them. Far as he could tell as they zipped and zagged through the alleys, they weren't being pursued. "Yes!" he gasped. "Now...stop!" He reached out and grabbed the boy by his shirt and pulled. At the same time he tripped over an empty barrel and fell to the earth with a yelp. He groaned and rolled over on his back, holding his head, hoping he hadn't hurt himself somehow. He also hoped the older boy wouldn't try to exact revenge right then. It wasn't the way Keegan wanted to leave the world. |
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| Horace Tennyson | 1 Dec 2008, 02:39 AM Post #6 |
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"Now...stop!" Horace was relieved to hear that there was no more need to flee, but he was still hesitant about stopping. It wasn't until the other lad grabbed him and they both stumbled and ended on the ground arses over heads that Horace was stopped from his goal. He missed knocking his head or damaging anything vital (Horace checked his goods to make sure they were still there, and planned to hand inspect them later to ensure that they could still preform), and that was keeping him from throttling the other boy right now. Regardless...the other lad had done nothing to further endear himself to Horace, and Horace was beginning to wonder why he hadn't just left the boy behind to be turned into a eunuch. Leave the dirty work to others who clearly had experience in that area. The world could use more tenors and he didn't know why he should have done anything to prevent that vacancy from being filled. Plus...then that way he could go watch the lad sing, and wouldn't that be just desserts? Horace struggled to his knees just in time to see the other lad grip his head and roll over. He glared at him, knowing it probably wouldn't do much except possibly only make him feel better, and at the very least, it did that. The other lad probably didn't even see it, but it acted much the same as sticking one's tongue at someone behind their back. "What are you, a certifiable klutz?" Horace said to him, pulling himself up to his feet, "d'you have a deathwish or sumthin'? What were you thinkin', and why'd the hell you have to include me? D'you know who I am?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 7 Dec 2008, 04:29 AM Post #7 |
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"What are you, a certifiable klutz?" Well, maybe. Keegan wasn't about to voice those thoughts, but he knew he could be a tad clumsy sometimes. It didn't help that on Tortuga he never felt at ease anyway. He was always tense, and tense joints only made for stumbling walks and easy trips. In Port Royal he could strut about quite at ease, but on Tortuga he had to skulk. It wasn't even the same as sneaking, another mode of transportation Keegan had become skilled in. Skulking was not a way of moving he was used to, and no doubt he wasn't at ease with it. Perhaps if he pretended to be sneaking instead of skulking, he'd be able to stop falling over himself. "D'you have a deathwish or sumthin'? What were you thinkin', and why'd the hell you have to include me? D'you know who I am?" Keegan pulled himself into a sitting position and shook the dizziness from his head. He looked at the boy with a cocked brow, tilting his head to the side. The way he spoke, it was like he thought himself someone important. It could not be more obvious to Keegan that he wasn't. "Well, if I had to take a guess, I'd say the village idiot," Keegan smoothly replied. "And of course, village idiots are the best scapegoats." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 21 Dec 2008, 01:32 AM Post #8 |
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Horace stared at Keegan, dumbfounded. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting as an answer from the lad, but that sure as hell was not it. Once the reality of the comment had set in, Horace figured that he had waited too long to pommel the boy. If he had pommeled him immediately it would look like retribution for the comment, which was fine, but waiting as long as he had now, it would look like he was too slow to comprehend what he meant and only just now figured it out. Or even worse, that he still might not have understood and was simply proving the comment true by being brutish and hitting the boy because his words were too many syllables too long. And if Horace wasn't anything, he wasn't a brute, and he wasn't an idiot. And certainly not a village idiot. The nerve! "Okay, Oafy, you have a name?" he finally settled on asking, primarily because his first inclination to threaten him with a painful death wouldn't do much to get an answer, "because we should probably take you back to your parents, because Heaven knows you really shouldn't be out on your own since you're incapable of staying out of trouble." But it did feel good to imply that he was too young to be out on his own. He probably was. Anyone with half a brain would avoid a fight in Tortuga unless you knew you could win, or were incredibly drunk. And those weren't mutually exclusive states, either. |
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| Keegan McAllister | 30 Dec 2008, 09:21 PM Post #9 |
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"Okay, Oafy, you have a name? Because we should probably take you back to your parents, because Heaven knows you really shouldn't be out on your own since you're incapable of staying out of trouble." Keegan gave the boy a glower, but eventually it melted away into a look of melancholy. He knew the lad was only trying to provoke him into some kind of fight, or just make him feel naive and stupid for having just barely gotten out of one. In Port Royal Keegan might have tried to come up with some smart retort (the boy didn't really look that much older than he), but there in Tortuga, he only sighed. He patted dirt from his breeches as he stood up. "I would love nothing more than to go back to my parents," he mumbled. After a moment of contemplative silence he smirked at the boy. "And I'm very aware of my inability to stay out of trouble. I would not be in Tortuga if I could manage it." With an unconscious rub of his right wrist, still wrapped up, he gave the boy the type of look a haughty prince would give a smelly fishmonger. "Who are you?" |
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| Horace Tennyson | 30 Dec 2008, 11:18 PM Post #10 |
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"And I'm very aware of my inability to stay out of trouble. I would not be in Tortuga if I could manage it." Horace shrugged. That was true for himself as well. Initially anyway, but time had a way of changing your mind towards things. Time and the inability for circumstances to change. But at least there were perks to being stuck in Tortuga. Nice perky...perks... If he kept thinking about that, he'd have to take care of a problem soon, and that wasn't one he wanted to try and deal with with annoying trouble-maker boy with him. "Who are you?" Horace rolled his eyes. Oafy did a good job of not answering his question. So either his parents didn't do a good enough job teaching him to answer questions, or he was just one of those people you couldn't teach anything. "Horace," he said, narrowing his eyes at Keegan, "But I notice you didn't bother to answer to me who you were. You're British, clearly. So where are you from?" He thought hard about the next part, "Nearest colony is Kingston or Port Royale, or are you from one of the other colonies?" He wondered if the boy happened to be from his home colony. "You don't happen to come from further north? New York, perhaps? Or are you one of those lads actually born in England?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 31 Dec 2008, 01:11 AM Post #11 |
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"Horace," he said. "But I notice you didn't bother to answer to me who you were. You're British, clearly. So where are you from?" Horace...What a name that was. It reminded Keegan of some great giant ogre-type person. It didn't seem to fit the scrawny young drunkard antagonizing him right that moment. Except that it was stupid, as was the boy. But he wasn't quite so stupid. He noticed Keegan didn't answer him. Perhaps there was something of a brain in there. "You don't happen to come from further north? New York, perhaps? Or are you one of those lads actually born in England?" Keegan shook his head. "Not so far away. I was born and raised in Port Royal. I've never left the Caribbean. And my name is Kee--" He stopped halfway through, wondering if it was wise to give his real name in Tortuga. Should he come up with a pseudonym? It was too late to do it for Horace though. There weren't many common, proper names that began with "Kee." Plus it was so obvious he was second-guessing that if he did come up with another name, Horace would probably see right through it. And it was far too troublesome. Still, he didn't have to give his whole name. "...gan. My name is Keegan." He tilted his head at the other boy. "You know you are really too young to be wandering into such establishments," he admonished in a way that would make his mother proud. "I was there just to pick up a delivery, but you looked full on your way to partaking the beer." He sniffed disdainfully. "Though I don't think you need any more. You reek of it." He frowned then, looking away. "Then again I suppose such a stench is unavoidable. Everyone drinks here." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 31 Dec 2008, 08:08 PM Post #12 |
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"Not so far away. I was born and raised in Port Royal. I've never left the Caribbean. And my name is Kee--" Horace raised his eyebrows waiting for Keegan to finish. He hoped that "Kee" wasn't the poor guy's name. One syllable was far too short for a name in his opinion. It was why he always felt pity for guys who had the name "John" or "George," or "James." Plus they were just way to common. Seemed like every other guy you met was a "John" "George" or "James." "...gan. My name is Keegan." Keegan? Horace tried to stifle a grin. Okay, so clearly the kid's parents had a similar sense of humour to his own. Keegan...boy guy. "You know you are really too young to be wandering into such establishments," Horace narrowed his eyes at Keegan. The lad just did not know when to shut up, did he? Well...come to think of it, he'd also been accused of that of late, but rum was a bit strong for his tastes and interrupted his ability to think before he spoke. "I was there just to pick up a delivery, but you looked full on your way to partaking the beer. Though I don't think you need any more. You reek of it." Okay, the lad was going to die. That was not how you treated someone who saved your life. Or if you valued your own. Maybe he was one of them suicidal types who had a death wish but didn't want to do it themselves. "Then again I suppose such a stench is unavoidable. Everyone drinks here." "I believe that Tortuga is synonymous with drinking," Horace said, still understandably (from his point of view) not too pleased with Keegan. "Can't exactly say it's a pleasure to have saved you, Keegan the Oaf." He held forward his hand to shake, "If you aren't used to the stench yet, you will be soon. Everything here smells like stale beer. There's more of that than non-tepid water to clean with, so you get used to it. So...Port Royale...how is the place? Used to live there myself...until well, you know. Stuff happens. What made you choose Tortuga as your new home, or are you just here for vacation?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 1 Jan 2009, 06:53 PM Post #13 |
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"I believe that Tortuga is synonymous with drinking," Horace said. "Can't exactly say it's a pleasure to have saved you, Keegan the Oaf." Keegan smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm afraid I cannot share your sentiments. Oaf or no, I am saved, whether you like it or not." He went out of his way not to actually thank the older boy, of course. "So...Port Royale...how is the place? Used to live there myself...until well, you know. Stuff happens. What made you choose Tortuga as your new home, or are you just here for vacation?" The boy frowned. "Vacation," he grumbled. "Of course I sailed all the way here just to sunbathe and drink and stare at the ocean." He rolled his eyes at the Tortugan, then stared straight ahead. After a moment he looked at Horace with one brow furrowed and the other raised. Horace wasn't really that much older than Keegan. "If you once lived on Port Royal, what brought you to this dump? Did you come here on your own accord?" Suddenly he remembered the reason he was out there in the middle of town anyway and sighed. "And I don't suppose you know another place to get a crate of rum, do you?" He gave the lad another disdainful glance. "Though I strongly suppose you do." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 4 Jan 2009, 01:03 AM Post #14 |
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. "Vacation. Of course I sailed all the way here just to sunbathe and drink and stare at the ocean." "Oy!" Horace snapped, "no need to be snippy with me, Oafy One. You can never know what brings people to Tortuga. I met a girl who came here to be with a strong man, and that was it, that was her whole purpose," he frowned, "at least that was what she was telling me when she was trying to feel me up for a purse." "If you once lived on Port Royal, what brought you to this dump? Did you come here on your own accord?" Horace laughed uncomfortably. "I erm..." his eyes darted around nervously, "was kidnapped. I used to work for Master Eddington in Port Royale--the printer. I was his apprentice. Anyway, to make a long story short, my current master needed someone who could run a printing press. So here I am. Free man and all." He finished spreading his arms out to indicate the city. "Great place to be your own man in," he said, darkly. "And I don't suppose you know another place to get a crate of rum, do you? Though I strongly suppose you do." Keegan's attitude really was getting to him. Oh, what he would give to see the lad begging him for help. Begging...paying? Horace was going to blame it on Ruben's influence, but an idea of how to do well off of this flashed through his head. "Yeah, I would," Horace answered, looking smug. He was going to get the oaf back all right, "The question is: what is the answer worth to you?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 6 Jan 2009, 01:41 AM Post #15 |
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"I erm...was kidnapped. I used to work for Master Eddington in Port Royale--the printer. Anyway, to make a long story short, my current master needed someone who could run a printing press. So here I am." Keegan blinked at the boy in surprise. Kidnapped? The way he was tottering around then, it was like he was there voluntarily. Well, perhaps he hadn't arrived on his own free will, but he obviously took to Tortuga well enough. Lazy bum. Still, he had a look about him that also said he wasn't entirely happy to be there. When he looked at the town he wasn't happy or optimistic. Perhaps he had just accepted the fact he was going to be there for a while. Keegan wondered if he could accept it so easily. "I've heard of him," Keegan remarked. "Being kidnapped because you're a printer's apprentice is...odd, though." He frowned. "I didn't think pirates could read." "Yeah, I would," Horace answered. "The question is: what is the answer worth to you?" Keegan glared. Of course. What little pity that had grown toward the older boy was instantly wiped away. Perhaps Horace hadn't arrived there by choice, but he was taking to the native ways all too easily. He probably belonged there in Tortuga with the other filth. He didn't seem much different from the other thieves and pirates. He then sighed and tapped his chin. "How about a cookie?" he replied. "Last time I came here I almost got one. Bet I could find that guy again." He tried not to shudder at the memory, which had become distorted and even worse with time. Out of everything that had happened upon his last trip to Tortuga, that had most certainly bothered him the most. At the same time, it was the only thing he could think of now as a response. He grinned at the boy. "Or perhaps you could simply bask in my company. That's worth millions." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 11 Jan 2009, 01:39 AM Post #16 |
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"Being kidnapped because you're a printer's apprentice is...odd, though." "You're telling me," Horace said, shaking his head. Keegan hit the nail right on the head there. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked and acted? Naw, he was. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now. Horace wouldn't be here if he had his way. He'd be in Master Eddington's print shoppe. Or if he had to be in Tortuga, he'd be with that really pretty redhead that he got to kiss him the other day in another alley about three "streets" down. What a bosom she had! "I didn't think pirates could read." Horace snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, "You try telling Ruben that. And I still don't think that most of them can. Which suits me fine. I was considering opening up a side trade to see if maybe they'd be willing to pay me to read and write documents for them. I think the money's there--not with printing on this rock." "How about a cookie? Last time I came here I almost got one. Bet I could find that guy again." Horace blinked. "Like, a real, honest to goodness biscuit? My goodness, I've been dying for one of those! Oh, Elisabeth back in Port Royale, her mum made the best ones." Actually that was the only reason to speak to her. She wasn't that pretty, but her mother could cook. Some of the other lads agreed that as long as your wife could cook, then it was going to be a good reason to marry. Always get a bit of a sidedish elsewhere. Of course, they were all smart enough to not share that conversation around the girls. "Or perhaps you could simply bask in my company. That's worth millions." "Oh, I'm sure that is," Horace said shaking his head, "I want the biscuits. So how much is a crate of rum, and what kind will you be needing? And what for? I doubt someone your size could put away that much rum, no offense." |
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| Keegan McAllister | 17 Jan 2009, 08:14 PM Post #17 |
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"I was considering opening up a side trade to see if maybe they'd be willing to pay me to read and write documents for them. I think the money's there--not with printing on this rock." Keegan made a face. "What sort of documents could you write up? This isn't exactly a lawful town, they won't need bills of sale or marriage licenses. Even if you wrote something, I doubt any pirate would use it." He thought again after a moment and tapped his nose. "Then again, perhaps letters would be the primary document. Letters to and from home, if they have one." He shrugged. "It might have its place but I doubt you'll be cleaning up with a job like that here." He tilted his head to the side a little, looking at Horace with a somewhat sad expression. "You don't have any inclination to find your way home?" "Like, a real, honest to goodness biscuit? My goodness, I've been dying for one of those! Oh, Elisabeth back in Port Royale, her mum made the best ones." Keegan didn't know this Elisabeth (though it was such a common name for all he knew he did) so he couldn't comment on her mother's baking prowess. From what he remembered of the lecherous old man in the alley, the "cookie" in question looked more like a combination of old bread and bird dung and mold. The dubious state of the cookie wasn't what bothered Keegan about that memory anyway. He had no strong desire to find that man and see his eyes again. They had, plain and simple, scared him. "I want the biscuits. So how much is a crate of rum, and what kind will you be needing? And what for? I doubt someone your size could put away that much rum, no offense." Deciding to try and worm the subject away from biscuits, Keegan waved his hand through the air. "Bah, it's not for me, is for the louses on my ship. I'm never going to drink rum again, if I can help it. Bad experience...." He thought a moment and frowned. "In fact that one experience set the ball in motion that ruined my life." He gave Horace a look. "No doubt you have no such inhibitions." He snapped his mouth shut and put his hands in his pockets. It wouldn't do to insult the boy any further, if he wanted his help. "Anyway, I don't know what kind to get. My captain gave me the name of a tavern and just said there would be a crate there waiting for me." Keegan glanced behind him along the alley toward the main street. Maybe it was safe to go back? He was in no hurry...except that as soon as he got the rum he could return to the ship and be out of Tortuga. "Isn't rum just rum?" he said, turning back to Horace. |
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| Horace Tennyson | 19 Jan 2009, 06:32 PM Post #18 |
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"Bah, it's not for me, is for the louses on my ship. I'm never going to drink rum again, if I can help it. Bad experience...." Horace raised his eyebrows, suddenly keenly interested. Bad experiences were no fun. Not unless they were someone else's and supremely embarrassing. Those were the best. And he would love to hear exactly what that bad experience was, because, it would probably help to reinforce (not that it really needed it) his opinion that Keegan was quite good at getting into trouble. Either that or give him a good laugh. Nothing was quite so therapeutic as laughing at another's ills. "In fact that one experience set the ball in motion that ruined my life." "Oh," Horace said, deciding that perhaps not hearing about that bad experience was good. If it was one that ruined Keegan's life, no doubt there was probably some sort of emotional bagage attached, and that was not something Horace dealt with. He was about to raise his hands to ward off any such story that might now come spilling out, but was spared that by Keegan...being Keegan. "No doubt you have no such inhibitions." "Now--" Horace said, pointing at Keegan, hoping he was not going to continue that further. Some way to show your grateful for the help, by insulting your help. It just wasn't helpful. "Anyway, I don't know what kind to get. My captain gave me the name of a tavern and just said there would be a crate there waiting for me. Isn't rum just rum?" Horace laughed, hiding his mouth with his hand, doubling over quickly before he regained control and stood up straight. "No, rum's are of different kinds. You know, like them apples. It's all in the making of the rum, what you do then changes all of it," he paused, choosing to offer as an explanation for his knowledge, "my mate works in a brewery in Port Royale, beer, but he says the process is somewhat similar." "So..." he said, pacing, "the tavern we were at was the one where we needed to pick it up? So, question is, how do we get there, and get the crate without getting seven types of shite kicked out of us?" He looked at Keegan, "How big's a crate anyway?" He looked him up and down, "can't be all that big if they sent you to get it..." though it was many years before electricity was adequately explained, and many more yet until any invention was made that could harness it's light giving power, Horace experienced a light bulb going off. "Hey, you know, you don't look so bad. With those lips and eyes, I bet you'd make a fine girl..." |
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| Keegan McAllister | 21 Jan 2009, 02:27 AM Post #19 |
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The last thing Keegan needed to feel more inadequate about himself was full-frontal guffawing. He couldn't help blushing a bit in embarrassment, along with a scathing frown, as he waited for Horace's laughs to subside. Surely an explanation was forthcoming. Keegan had never been the type of boy to eagerly await the day he could partake of all sorts of adult beverages, such as rum. Now that he'd had a taste, he had no further inclination. Apparently he was very much alone in this. "No, rum's are of different kinds. You know, like them apples. It's all in the making of the rum, what you do then changes all of it." "Ah," Keegan replied, drumming fingers along one of his arms. That did make sense, but he wasn't impressed or interested. Jack had just said to get "rum" at the tavern. Keegan didn't know what sort of rum it might be. It probably didn't matter, as long as it was alcoholic. "So..." he said, "the tavern we were at was the one where we needed to pick it up? So, question is, how do we get there, and get the crate without getting seven types of shite kicked out of us?" Keegan shrugged. By this point he didn't much care where the rum came from. Then again, the tavern probably had some sort of tab for Jack, and Keegan hopefully wouldn't have to worry about payment. If they went to some other place they might have to steal it. He certainly didn't have any money on him. "How big's a crate anyway?" He looked him up and down, "can't be all that big if they sent you to get it..." Keegan wondered if that was supposed to be an insult. He might only be a child, but he was tall enough to maybe pass for an adult. He knew he was taller than his mother now, and probably wasn't far from reaching his father's height. However, for as tall as he was, he was still rather scrawny. Really scrawny, actually. "I don't know," he muttered. "You're probably right though." "Hey, you know, you don't look so bad. With those lips and eyes, I bet you'd make a fine girl..." Keegan's growing disinterest hit a snag. He turned his lidded eyes to stare at Horace for several seconds as he tried to understand what the boy was implying. Of course Keegan understood it from the start, but it wasn't possible that Horace was suggesting he dress up as a girl. It just could not be possible. It. Could. Not. "Excusez-moi?" he replied. |
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| Horace Tennyson | 12 Feb 2009, 03:39 AM Post #20 |
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Horace had to admit, even though this was him thinking his way through a plan, and thus work which was supposed to exclude the possibility of pleasure...he was definitely gaining some pleasure out of suggesting that Keegan might make a fine girl. He wouldn't be the sort of she that Horace would go for himself, but he certainly seemed to have the brains of one. "Excusez-moi?" "What's that?" Horace asked, looking at Keegan like he'd suddenly turned into a frog in front of him. It was probably some sort of thing people said to indicate they were cultured. Crap, all of that. Reading meant you were intelligent, and anything further than that was a complete waste of time. Sums doubly so. "Now, just bear with me on this. We have a crate of rum, to get for you. The rum is at that tavern. That tavern is protected by big hairy men who don't really like us, because of something you did," possibly not, but it worked well enough for his theory anyway, "so they aren't just going to let us dance in there, get it and leave. Not without some broken bones or...erm...less desirable things." Why did his mind always have to go down that dark and scary path? Why? For what reason? It's not a path he liked... "Right, and, so, we need a way to get in. Now most blokes, they won't hit a girl, and with those big, beautiful, and pouty lips you have, and.." he looked down at Keegan's chest which was decidedly lacking, and gestured his hands over it "perhaps some natural enhancements. You'd probably make a pretty good looking girl. Now, since unfortunately, they'll know me as well, I'll probably have to dress up as well, but I don't know." He looked down at himself. "I think my finely turned calves are a bit of a dead give away that I'm not a girl." |
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| Keegan McAllister | 20 Feb 2009, 12:03 AM Post #21 |
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"Now, just bear with me on this. We have a crate of rum, to get for you. The rum is at that tavern. That tavern is protected by big hairy men who don't really like us, because of something you did." Keegan couldn't believe what he was hearing. This boy was insane, and if he expected Keegan to dress up like a girl he had another thing coming! Not to mention the altercation at the tavern was more definitely not his fault, the little bastard. Keegan almost said something but figured it was best to let that lie and just get on with it. That was small compared to what Horace was thinking now. "Right, and, so, we need a way to get in. Now most blokes, they won't hit a girl, and with those big, beautiful, and pouty lips you have, and...perhaps some natural enhancements. You'd probably make a pretty good looking girl." Keegan glowered. "They might not hit a girl but they'd sure as hell drag her into an alley and have their way regardless. And a young one no less! If they found out I dressed up as a girl they'd probably take me anyway!" He thought again of the creepy cookie man and shuddered, his face paling. Keegan considered himself very lucky that he had been spared any sort of rough handling, despite his immersion into worlds where that occurred often enough. He rather wanted to continue with that lucky streak if he could, and dressing up like a girl was not going to help that. "Now, since unfortunately, they'll know me as well, I'll probably have to dress up as well, but I don't know. I think my finely turned calves are a bit of a dead give away that I'm not a girl." "That's not the only thing," Keegan grumbled, gesturing at the boy's face in general. It was obvious Horace was somewhat older than Keegan, and his face wasn't nearly as round and androgynous and Keegan's was (or could be). In short, Horace was too ugly to be a girl. But then again maybe an ugly girl wouldn't attract the attention Keegan worried about. "Can't we just...sneak in the back?" Keegan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Or even wait for them to leave! They can't stay there all ni...." He stopped and closed his eyes. "Well, they have to leave sometime, if only to take a leak outside." He looked at Horace again. "And you seem like a regular customer, don't you know someone there who could just help us out? Free of charge, preferably." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 10 Mar 2009, 07:39 PM Post #22 |
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"They might not hit a girl but they'd sure as hell drag her into an alley and have their way regardless. And a young one no less! If they found out I dressed up as a girl they'd probably take me anyway!" Horace pursed his lips considering it. He was far too handsome himself for anyone to ever mistake him as a girl. He had such finely defined calves and thighs that whoever might make that mistake clearly had not had the proper societal influences for what gender was. "Well...I'm sure it won't come to that..." he said, a bit uncertainly. One could never be completely sure...but then again, perhaps it would be better to have Keegan dress up as the girl, and just pretend to be his-her brother. Something like that. "Can't we just...sneak in the back? Or even wait for them to leave! They can't stay there all ni....Well, they have to leave sometime, if only to take a leak outside." "You think they'll go outside to take a leak? What, you don't think they've got chamberpots in there? We're talking about the place where we like to empty chamberpots from the second story on to people passing by, it's like a national pastime here. A competitive sport almost." He shook his head, "we've got to trick them, not wait for them to abandon stuff, 'cause as long as there's something to drink, they'll probably never leave." "And you seem like a regular customer, don't you know someone there who could just help us out? Free of charge, preferably." Horace laughed, "you really aren't from around here, are you? I doubt that anyone on this rock does anything free of charge. And err...I wouldn't ask that of the ladies," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "they tend to take offense at that, not like they aren't already giving a show anyway, hiking their skirts and stuff." He rubbed his chin and thought. Maybe there might be a better way to get what the other boy needed without dressing up as women. But it would require some sort of cunning plan. And much as he was loathe to admit it, he just wasn't quite as cunning as he wanted to think he was. At least he could recognise that and compensate for it. That was a lot more than some people were able to do. "Well...we could ask Master Ruben, see if he has any ideas, but I think he might like the idea of the dresses, dunno why, just a feeling I got. But maybe we'd be better off enlisting a pirate. They say that one of the cleverest and greatest pirate in the whole world is in Tortuga right now. Maybe we can get 'im to help. Ever heard of Captain Jack Sparrow?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 11 Mar 2009, 12:16 AM Post #23 |
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Keegan was glad to see Horace was beginning to almost see reason. He didn't appreciate being spoken down to by the boy, but most of what Horace said made sense. Keegan was also still trying to get out of dressing as a girl. "Well...we could ask Master Ruben, see if he has any ideas, but I think he might like the idea of the dresses, dunno why, just a feeling I got." Keegan didn't know this "Ruben" person, but if Horace thought he would like the idea of them dressing as girls, he wouldn't mind skipping that introduction. "But maybe we'd be better off enlisting a pirate. They say that one of the cleverest and greatest pirate in the whole world is in Tortuga right now." Keegan looked at Horace in slight surprise. A clever pirate in Tortuga? He must have been rather famous for Horace to know him. And if Horace knew him, perhaps Keegan did too. Though Keegan knew of few pirates besides-- "Ever heard of Captain Jack Sparrow?" Keegan's hand flew up to slap his forehead. No...NO! It couldn't be HIM! Jack Sparrow was the cleverest pirate in the world? If he was so clever he wouldn't have needed Keegan's help for all those times past! And Keegan was sure Jack would agree to the idea of his cabin boy dressing as a girl to get him rum. "Yes," Keegan groaned, rubbing his temples. He sighed and dropped his hands, looking heavenward. "He's my captain...." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 15 Mar 2009, 08:40 PM Post #24 |
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When Keegan slapped his forehead, Horace was not entirely sure what the boy meant. He never slapped his forehead himself, so he didn't really want to guess as to it's meaning, but he usually related that meaning to being akin to saying 'd'oh!' and that had always meant-- "Yes, he's my captain...." Horace's eyes grew wide. He wasn't a big fan of pirates, that was true, and he tolerated some of his peers' incessant obsession with the subject...but even so...he had to say he was a fan of Jack Sparrow. Jack Sparrow was the man. The man. The definite article. "Jack Sparrow is your captain?" he asked Keegan, incredulous, "Jack Sparrow who escaped from under the eyes of the agents of the East India Company, the Jack Sparrow who sacked Nassau port without firing a shot, the Jack Sparrow who escaped his own hanging by jumping and flying from the fort to his ship? The Jack Sparrow?" What sort of luck was that? He could get to meet Jack Sparrow! He managed to stumble into...or rather have stumble into him, the one lad who was his ticket to meeting the famous pirate captain. Horace's expression flashed quickly to one of annoyance. Of course...Jack Sparrow would travel with idiots wouldn't he, then? Keegan was so incompetent and he got to work with the famous person. Life was unfair like that. It was always the people who didn't deserve it who got handed great opportunities like that. He shook his head. "Seriously...you work for him? Maybe he isn't as great as they say....you're not pulling my leg 'ere are you?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 18 Mar 2009, 02:05 PM Post #25 |
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"Jack Sparrow is your captain?" he asked Keegan. "The Jack Sparrow?" Keegan remembered how impressed he had been when he first heard those stories about Jack Sparrow. He had held the same sense of esteem that Horace held for the man, but now things were drastically different. He knew better to believe those stories, and even if they were true, Jack had survived solely on luck or through the help of others. There was no skill in anything he did. "He didn't fly from the fort," Keegan grumbled. "He fell off like a bird hit with a rock. And with only half as much grace." In truth Keegan hadn't seen the man fall, though he had attended the hanging with his father. They were too far back to see anything after Jack left the main courtyard, but Keegan had heard stories and could easily imagine. "Seriously...you work for him? Maybe he isn't as great as they say....you're not pulling my leg 'ere are you?" Keegan grimaced at Horace. He agreed with what the boy said, but not what it implied about him. "I'm sorry to say I'm not kidding at all. And he isn't as great as they say. I've helped him escape death like three times in the last year alone." He sighed and scratched his head with one hand, then both when the itch increased. Moving his hands like that made his bandaged wrist itch to, so he scratched at the linen wrapped there. Keegan would have given anything to find a way to bathe (safely) right then. Well almost anything. He looked at Horace while scratching his wrist. "Were you at Port Royal the day the sun went black?" |
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| Horace Tennyson | 11 Apr 2009, 09:32 PM Post #26 |
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"I'm sorry to say I'm not kidding at all. And he isn't as great as they say. I've helped him escape death like three times in the last year alone." Horace looked in disbelief at Keegan. He helped the great and infamous Jack Sparrow escape death three times? That had to be wrong. Everyone knew in the stories that Jack Sparrow was the type who worked alone, and they never, ever had said anything about others helping him to escape death. Jack Sparrow used his wits and legendary strength to escape (and in one really fascinating story he heard, his legendary prowress as a lover to convince a whole tribe of Amazons to let him go, and then consequently father the entire next generation of the tribe). There was never anything about...well...idiotic sidekicks helping him out. He guessed now that he would have to help Keegan out, if only to try and meet the man and see if he really was the Jack Sparrow. And then ask if Keegan really had been the help that he claimed he was. "Were you at Port Royal the day the sun went black?" "What?" Horace asked, "You're tellin' me that the sun went black? Like...up and disappeared? Gone?" he gestured at himself, "why the hell am I always missing these sorts of things?!" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 19 Apr 2009, 08:10 PM Post #27 |
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"What?" Horace asked, "You're tellin' me that the sun went black? Like...up and disappeared? Gone?" he gestured at himself, "why the hell am I always missing these sorts of things?!" "Be glad you did, it was awful!" Keegan barked, with a scowl. "I dunno what happened to the sun but...it just disappeared. It was like night had come in the middle of the day, it lasted for hours. It was...." He sighed and looked at the ground. Flashes of memory from that night surrounded him. "Terrible." He shook his head to clear himself of the imagery. "Well, Jack was there that day. I helped him escape. Twice. In the span of twenty-four hours." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But I had to leave too. So here I am" He huffed and gave Horace a glower. He could imagine what the boy was thinking, and probably didn't believe him. Keegan didn't really care either way. Horace almost seemed to admire Sparrow.... He raised a brow. "If you help me get the rum and bring it to the ship, I can introduce you to the idiot if you like." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 27 May 2009, 06:49 PM Post #28 |
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"Be glad you did, it was awful! Horace had his doubts that something like that could really happen. It sounded like some sort of eclipse (he'd read about those, thanks very much) and people blowing it way out of proportion. Some sort of mass hallucination coupled with it all, maybe? Not that he'd admit it to Keegan, if he had been in that sort of situation, he was sure he might be a little afraid. A teeny, tiny, bit afraid. "Well, Jack was there that day. I helped him escape. Twice. In the span of twenty-four hours." "Twice?" Horace asked. That just didn't sound a lot like the Jack Sparrow you heard about in stories. The fierce, cunning pirate who was dastardly and all that. The one who didn't sound so...well...grossly incompetent. Maybe you should just never meet your heroes. Or hear stories about them from people who really know them, and are willing to give the truth. If it is the truth. "If you help me get the rum and bring it to the ship, I can introduce you to the idiot if you like." "Um, well..." Horace paused, "I'll help you, but on second thought, perhaps it's best that I don't meet Sparrow. I mean...I kinda had a high opinion of his cleverness...I don't want to risk losing that opinion, I think. "But we're still left with that problem getting the rum. I still say we dress up. Unless you have a better idea?" |
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| Keegan McAllister | 15 Aug 2009, 05:30 PM Post #29 |
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(Holy crap) "Um, well..." Horace paused, "I'll help you, but on second thought, perhaps it's best that I don't meet Sparrow. I mean...I kinda had a high opinion of his cleverness...I don't want to risk losing that opinion, I think." Keegan scoffed as he brushed some hair out of his eyes. He couldn't imagine just how high of an opinion this boy had of Sparrow. He was only a pirate with an extreme streak of good luck and friends who risked their lives for a man who wouldn't do the same for them. Like you? Shaddup. I'm not his friend. But there had been a time when Keegan held a similar opinion of Sparrow, though not in any hero-worshiping sense. He just respected him a bit because of the stories, and he'd always thought there was something a bit noble or moralistic about Sparrow. Of course that image shattered quite drastically after he actually met the man. Now he respected Sparrow only because he was a bit afraid of him and what he might sacrifice Keegan for. "But we're still left with that problem getting the rum. I still say we dress up. Unless you have a better idea?" "I say we forget the whole thing altogether and just part ways," Keegan grumbled, throwing a hand through the air in frustration. He was mostly kidding, since going back without the rum would be a mark against him in case Sparrow weighed the pros and cons of keeping him around. Being with Horace also helped calm his nerves a little, probably because the boy was in a similar situation as he was, and they were near in age. He glanced back the way they had come and scowled. "But I need to return with something. We can dress like maids and sneak in the back, get as many bottles as we can carry--I don't think we can manage a case--and then get out." He looked back at Horace. It was going to be more difficult to make him look like a girl, as much as it pained Keegan's own ego to admit. He was still growing and had gained a few inches over the past year, but his face was still round and youthful, and his hair had grown out so long it wouldn't take as much work for him to appear girlish. "But where do we get those clothes?" |
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| Horace Tennyson | 19 Aug 2009, 11:40 PM Post #30 |
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When Keegan grumbled about abandoning the project, and heading off each on their own, Horace was ready to shrug and do so, and only be mildly disappointed that they didn't have the opportunity to dress up and attempt his plan. Not because he wanted to risk life and limb venturing near those pirates again, but rather because it might have made a rather excellent story to put in a book someday. A book which could earn him money. Although, he'd have to wait until he was free of Ruben to manage that. He wouldn't put it past that dishonest sneak to try and pass off his story as his own. He was about wave bye and head off, no loss there, the kid was an idiot, when he must've changed his mind. "But I need to return with something. We can dress like maids and sneak in the back, get as many bottles as we can carry--I don't think we can manage a case--and then get out." "Oh, so now my plan's worth trying," Horace couldn't resist. "But where do we get those clothes?" Ah, now that was the question, wasn't it? "Well.." he said thinking of a few places where he might be able to procure such necessary items. Ruben's "orphanage" was one such place, and might be most likely to get them clothing of roughly the right size, but he didn't want to involve his master in this. "We could steal them from one of the bordellos," he said. Not the best option in terms of ease, but certainly the one that he was most willing to try out. "They're mad houses," he said, figuring he'd have to explain to Keegan what they were like since he obviously had no such experience in such manly matters, "one of us can lure out a girl about our sizes, the other sneaks in and steals her things. Piece of cake. We'll have all this done in two hours, tops." |
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| Keegan McAllister | 10 Oct 2009, 06:43 PM Post #31 |
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As soon as the word "bordello" entered the conversation, Keegan was ready to change his mind back to "just give up." He didn't want to deal with whores and prostitutes, but he didn't much get what Horace meant when he said "mad houses." Keegan thought bordellos were the same as brothels. Regardless, luring a girl out to steal her things was a very low maneuver, but Keegan wasn't sure what else they could do. "Can't we just steal some laundry?" he muttered to himself, knowing in the end they would do what Horace suggested. He sighed huffily and scratched his head. "Fine. You can do the luring, I'll sneak in and get the clothes." He gestured at the streets. "Lead the way." |
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| Horace Tennyson | 24 Oct 2009, 10:18 PM Post #32 |
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"Fine. You can do the luring, I'll sneak in and get the clothes." Horace was practically aghast. He never would have expected Keegan to just shrug or say fine, or to do anything but stringently object to his suggestions. He'd only known him for a very tiny amount of time, but it had been enough for him to establish that the lad didn't like his own ideas, and the two of them really could not be much different from each other. Despite the things they had in common, such as where they had lived before. "Lead the way." Horace snorted, "you sure you won't regret that?" He started to head out of the alley, keeping an eye out for the goons who they had lost earlier. If they ran into them again, he was guessing their prolonged lives would be much shorter than they hoped they would be. But whether it was luck, chance, human nature, or divine providence, they were fortunate enough to not run into them again. That now left the problem of the nearest bordello. They weren't exactly lacking in Tortuga. Popular knowledge was that there was at least one on every main street, and fortunately enough, rumor and popular knowledge was exactly true. Scarcely had they gotten back onto the street when there was a bordello ahead of them. Taking a quick breath, and mentally steeling himself for the task ahead, as well as realizing that if they pulled this off there was no way he was ever going to be welcomed into here again, he stepped forward, not daring to look back and hoping that Keegan was keeping up with him. He edged past other men and women into a hall which had doors. This was it. He tuned around to Keegan. "Ready?" |
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8:39 PM Sep 3
