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| Needle in a Haystack; July 1751 | |
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| Topic Started: 22 Aug 2009, 03:17 AM (632 Views) | |
| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 03:17 AM Post #1 |
Deckhand
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All the good intentions in the world were shortly to mean nothing. Gillette did his best to keep from pacing back and forth in his cabin, hoping that the plan he had so carefully formed over the last few days would work. He had taken every pain to keep the sloop from being recognised as a Navy vessel, even going so far as to repaint her, haul down her masthead pennant, and abandon their distinctive uniforms. Now they were lying as close as he dared to get to Tortuga, and were at the end of this particular leg of their journey. From this point forward, until they weighed anchor again, nearly everything would depend on Midshipman Evans. Gillette would have gone ashore himself if he was not so recognisable. He had sent for the midshipman to outline what the boy's role would be, knowing full well that the chances of Evans doing something stupid were greater than ideal. There was no one else aboard fit to send, however. No other officer, at least. It pained him to no end to realise the neccessity of it, but he would have to send a marine ashore as well, as much to keep Evans focussed as to provide the boy with some small measure of protection if something should go wrong. Sergeant Myles had been his first choice, but Myles had demurred, suggesting the insufferable Corporal Johnson instead. Gillette had not been pleased with the idea of giving such an important mission to Johnson, despite being aware of the man's ability to keep his head in tight spots. That was the deciding factor in the matter, for he was very interested in getting Evans back aboard in one piece. The marine sentry outside the cabin door thumped his musket on the deck and called out "Mister Midshipman Evans, sir!" Gillette breathed out a long sigh. The most important thing here was to firmly impress the lack of margin of error upon the boy. He could only hope that Evans would not regard the mission as the greatest sort of joke, when Gillette explained it to him. Corporal Johnson had also been sent for, but he was taking his damned time in appearing. Typical. "Enter," he called out, and wondered if this whole affair would see a successful end. It was, essentially, a search for a needle in a haystack. He did not even know for sure if Norrington was still on the island. Then he willed himself to relax, just slightly, as the sentry opened the cabin door to let Evans in. No more time for doubt, now. |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 03:36 AM Post #2 |
Norrington, James Norrington
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In contrast to Gillette's serious demeanor, Evans' could not have been more flippant. He had practically cheered upon pronouncement earlier that officers were to lose their stunningly British coats, and to look like they weren't crewmembers of a British Sloop of War. He'd gone so far as to 'forget' to shave, and his cheeks were now a bit fuzzy. Of course, discipline hadn't been relaxed, and while that did seem a bit of a shame as he would have loved to get rip-roaring drunk with a few of the marines and his fellow midshipmen while on deck, he did have to admit that it was in the end for the best. He had seen the marines on leave, and while they were spectacular fun when like that, the vessel was far more likely to stay intact if the men were, for the most part, sober. And since no one save the Captain seemed to know what they were doing, though rumours abounded, he saw no reason to treat this meeting with Gillette as anything special. He figured the Captain would have a few words to say to him regarding not embracing the role too fully, but he would shortly find out. There was probably little to be said about their current situation, what with this being a meeting with only himself and the captain, and Pritchard and other officers of note not being present. "Sir," he said, entering, moving his hand about his head that could only loosely be interpreted as some form of salute, "reporting as ordered." It was at this point, Evans realised Gillette had that sort of look that seemed he may not be in the mood for a bit of fun mockery. Too bad, he thought, his loss. It was almost more fun, and certainly more tempting to test how far he could push the boundaries when the Captain was like this. Sort of like pulling on a thread, trying to exert just the right amount of pressure before it snapped. |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 03:45 AM Post #3 |
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Deckhand
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 The midshipman seemed entirely too cheerful for the circumstances. Gillette frowned, then schooled his expression into a mask of studied neutrality. There was no point in being goaded by Evans' flippant nature. "Sir," Evans said, offering a casual salute, "reporting as ordered." "Have a seat," Gillette told him curtly, choosing to cut directly to the chase. He had waited long enough for Johnson, damn the man. "I have a task for you, but it requires the utmost seriousness. Before I begin to explain it, I must be sure that you can set aside all temptation for levity." And of course it would be at that moment that the sentry would thump his musket on the deck and call out "Corporal Johnson, sir!" Gillette cursed the marine corporal under his breath and snapped, "Get in here, Corporal." "Sorry for bein' late, sir," Johnson said, not sounding sorry at all. At least he didn't look anything like a marine in his grey shirt and tarred hat. The marines, like the officers, had discarded their usual uniforms in favour of more bland slops. "Whatever. Sit down. I was just beginning to explain why you are here." Gillette looked at Evans again, waiting for an answer to his previous question. If the boy did not answer appropriately, he would be dismissed and Gillette would be forced to rely on Johnson alone. He hoped very fervently that Evans could manage to keep his love for levity in check. Otherwise... well, he preferred not to think about that. |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 04:16 AM Post #4 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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From any other officer, except perhaps St Montgomery, Evans would have raised his eyebrow, or scrunched up his nose at the tone used telling him to take a chair. Gillette had this unfortunate habit of not always getting away with such things. Quite unfortunate. "I must be sure that you can set aside all temptation for levity." If Gillette hadn't prefaced it with being an important task, Evans would almost have given into the temptation to laugh in response, but things just weren't adding up. Of course, Gillette would be the sort of person who told you it was direly important that you guard the privies, and be on your best behaviour while doing so. Oh, he would cherish the memory of seeing those two blockhead marines doing that for the rest of his natural life. He was saved from having to try and sound convincing in his answer by one of the marine arriving. Johnson. Evans nodded at him as he entered. There was something almost wrong about seeing them out of their scarlet coats. Of course, there was also something wrong about ever seeing Gillette out of his unifor--Oh no! Mind going bad places! Evans tilted back the chair with his foot, shutting his eyes and trying to think of anything not on the path his mind had very nearly wandered onto. On the plus side, he may have found a way to stop any excitement he felt in inappropriate situations. Like Sunday services. Gillette turned back to him, and it was fortunate that he opened his eyes just in time for that. With a clunking sound he released the chair so that it's weight was back on all its legs. "I shall do my best, sir." He looked over at Johnson. What sort of serious situation calling for dour consideration would requite both him and a marine to meet with the captain? |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 04:26 AM Post #5 |
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Deckhand
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"I shall do my best, sir." At least the midshipman seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, for he did not attempt to make any clever remarks. Gillette took that as a good sign. "Good. The same goes for you, Corporal, though I'm sure I don't have to worry about levity from you." Johnson simply shrugged. Gillette paused for a moment to contain his annoyance at the marine, then turned his attention to the chart that lay unrolled on the table. "Very well. As I'm sure every man aboard has become aware, we are presently lying close to Tortuga. Our purpose for that is simple. Two men are to be sent ashore under cover of darkness, with the goal of sneaking into the village. I am interested in any information about the Black Pearl and her crew, if it can be obtained without arousing suspicion. Here I will pause and ask, again, are both of you equal to this?" He looked both of them in the eye. If Evans was not suited for this mission, he was likely to prove it now. |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 04:37 AM Post #6 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Tortuga? Well, Evans had never been much for navigation, so when one of the other middies suggested they were close, he just nodded and agreed. It was the path of least resistance, since if he called bullshit, he have to do something to prove it. Sneaking into the village for information on the Black Pearl, though? That was it? That was the reason for all the secrecy and covert action? Gathering intel on a pirate ship? This had to be some sort of a joke. If one wanted information on the Black Pearl all one needed to do was go to one of the seedier taverns in Port Royal, get someone who looked like they might know drunk, and ask away. The reliability he wagered would be about the same. Well, unless the Pearl was docked in Tortuga. Then one might actually find the ship herself. He was rather preoccupied with this being the whole reason they'd come so far that he'd completely missed his opportunity to question whether nor arousing suspicion meant that he had to act the part of a pirate on a mating call. "Here I will pause and ask, again, are both of you equal to this?" "Yes," Evans said drawling on the syllable a bit, before looking at Johnson, "but what sort of information are we looking for regarding the Pearl? |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 04:53 AM Post #7 |
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Deckhand
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Johnson was nodding his silent agreement, while Evans looked thoughtful. Whether that was a good sign or not was hard to tell. Having no other alternative, Gillette waited. Fortunately, the midshipman spoke at last, and to the affirmative, which was a relief. Not so much a relief was the question he asked next. This was a question Gillette had been dreading, for he was not sure how much information he was comfortable giving out to answer it. "But what sort of information are we looking for regarding the Pearl? Gillette studied the chart before him, more as a stalling tactic than out of actual interest. Could he really trust these two to be discreet? Stupid. He had to, or else he could not send them ashore. "I am primarily interested in one person," he said slowly. picking over his words with painful care. "There is cause to believe that our former commodore is somewhere on the island. My intent is to learn for certain whether that is true." Unsurprisingly, Johnson gave a start and sat up ramrod straight in his chair, where he had been lounging almost boredly only a second before. Gillette tried to ignore him, keeping his gaze on Evans. Owing to the boy's rank, he would be in nominal charge of the two-man shore party, and it was vitally important that he understand why so much effort was being taken to avoid detection. |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 03:22 PM Post #8 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"There is cause to believe that our former commodore is somewhere on the island. My intent is to learn for certain whether that is true." "What?!" The words were automatic. Evans could not help their popping out, "Norrington's here?" None of the rumours he had heard had come even close to that! It was almost like many of the personnel stationed in Port Royale tried not to think back to when he had been in charge and about, because bringing up how much better things had been compared to now, was a death sentence. At the very least it was a flogging, or some other corporal punishment. This was all a shock, an there were so many questions he had about this. Why did he need them to search for Norrington? What was Norrington doing here (maybe a bit more obvious than others)? And why send him and Johnson to go and try to find Norrington? Why did the captain suspect that Norrington would even be here, anyway? "Why do we need to know if he's here?" he asked and then quickly added, "don't get me wrong, I think he was far better than that bastard now is, but we don't have to bring him back to face a court martial, do we?" |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 04:30 PM Post #9 |
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Deckhand
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"What?!" Evans burst out, rather predictably. "Norrington's here?" Johnson glared at him. "Keep your voice down, sir," the marine hissed, neatly sparing Gillette the trouble of making a similar admonition. For a moment, the midshipman seemed to heed the warning too. But only for a moment. "Why do we need to know if he's here?" Evans asked, then quickly added, "don't get me wrong, I think he was far better than that bastard now is, but we don't have to bring him back to face a court martial, do we?" Gillette pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. It was time to trot out his first carefully-formed lie. "I'm sure you remember Lord Beckett?" He asked. "It should not need to be said that he has spies in many places. Spies who by now have no doubt been given orders to be watching out for a runaway Navy officer, a move I would guess stands to benefit both Beckett and St Montgomery." There was another pause. Gillette let it go on, so what he'd said might sink in. Then he continued, "We will not return him to a court-martial. But more than that I can't say. The less you know the better, in the event you are discovered." That would, hopefully, assure Evans' suspicions. But it was not enough for Johnson. "So we're goin' ashore, just us two, to look for a deserted sea officer, and it's all to keep Buckett from gettin' to him first?" The marine scowled. "Seems a bit fishy to me, sir." |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 05:57 PM Post #10 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Remember Lord Beckett? Was Gillette kidding? Who couldn't remember that useles lout. Evans was in with the marines, and most of the Navy, in regards to his opinions about them. The only thing the East India Company did have going for them was that they were not St Montgomery. In his view they ranked only slightly higher. Not much, though. When he mentioned spies he wondered if he meant that there were spies on board the Intrepid? That could account for all the discresion and keeping one's voice down bits. But...spies on here? That was unbelievable. No one in the Navy should willingly side with those monsters, although, Evans did have to admit that there were right pricks in the Navy. Like those bastards who wanted to string up McIntyre for desertion. He was very thrilled that that didn't work out. "So we're goin' ashore, just us two, to look for a deserted sea officer, and it's all to keep Buckett from gettin' to him first? Seems a bit fishy to me, sir." "Yeah," Evans added, "what Johnson said." He nodded to the marine. "Ah, I mean there were rumours that you were...ah..." he blushed a bit, "rather close, but I'm sure this has nothing to do with that, right?" |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 06:30 PM Post #11 |
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Deckhand
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Johnson's question and apparent suspicion were not especially surprising. The marine was somewhat known for being a devoted sceptic of nearly everything. Gillette prepared to give out his second lie, but was stopped cold when Evans decided to speak up. "Yeah. What Johnson said." The midshipman nodded at Johnson, who looked miffed - which, admittedly, was one of his typical expressions anyway - and then added, "Ah, I mean there were rumours that you were...ah... rather close, but I'm sure this has nothing to do with that, right?" Keelhauling was too good for some people, Gillette decided. He favoured Evans with a furious glare and tried to form a response that was not very loud and very inappropriate. The nerve of the boy. Even Johnson appeared unsettled by Evans' question, as evidenced by his shifting his chair slightly away from him. "Rumours, sir, are not fact, and I would thank you to remember it!" He had to pause again and get a better grip on his temper. In truth, he had not expected such a question, even though he supposed he should have. "I think," Gillette said slowly, his hands curled up into tight, white-knuckled fists, "that perhaps it may be better if you managed this task yourself, Corporal. Mister Evans is more doubtful than is acceptable." |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 10:31 PM Post #12 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"Rumours, sir, are not fact, and I would thank you to remember it!" Evans shrunk back a bit. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected from the captain, but he wasn't quite anticipating this. He thought the reaction would be less...forceful, though. Of course, in retrospect he did bring up the fact that his superiour officer might in fact be having an affair with his superiour officer, in blatant disregard of the Articles of War... Okay, not an entirely out of the question reaction then. But he did need to know! Not details or anything if they were, but Gillette were only doing this because of that, it was his right to know. Not that he's fess up to it... He swallowed. "Mister Evans is more doubtful than is acceptable." Evans shrunk down farther in his chair. "Actually, sir," he said, trying to sound more confident than he was, "perhaps that is why I am the best choice to go on this mission, sir. Tortuga is known for its...well, debauchery. I'm still young enough to pass for a..." he tried to say it, he really did, but he just couldn't, "anyway, best to have someone like that who people don't tend to watch their mouths around. And people might wonder why anyone starts asking after him. Which a younger lad...well, I could hint at.....or be believable enough when I say he killed my father, and I want revenge." |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 11:00 PM Post #13 |
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Deckhand
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"Understood, sir," Johnson replied evenly. It didn't appear to bother him that he might not be accompanying Evans after all. "Actually, sir," Evans said, sounding almost sure of himself despite being slouched halfway down in his chair, "perhaps that is why I am the best choice to go on this mission, sir. Tortuga is known for its...well, debauchery. I'm still young enough to pass for a...anyway, best to have someone like that who people don't tend to watch their mouths around. And people might wonder why anyone starts asking after him. Which a younger lad...well, I could hint at.....or be believable enough when I say he killed my father, and I want revenge." Gillette shook his head, some of his anger cooling. "It is not the ease of disguise that concerns me," he told the midshipman. "It is your willingness to treat anything and everything as a joke, to say nothing of your tendency to question whatever you're told." He glanced at Johnson, hating the fact that he had to use the man as an example. "Corporal Johnson, at least, can be relied upon to accept that he's going to undertake something of vital importance and therefore makes no constant attempt to dispute it!" |
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| James Norrington | 22 Aug 2009, 11:19 PM Post #14 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans blinked rapidly at the accusations. Tendancy to question whatever he was told? Oh that was ripe...he bit back his reply and simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak to the Gillette's criticisms. He still felt though, regardless of whether or not he said it, that taking questioning everything was not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe a bit less of it could be done, but if he were the unquestioning type, just imagine what could be done under St Montgomery, if they did not question, or none tried to reinterpret the man's orders however they could. "I restate my case, sir, that my qualities uniquely qualify me for this mission." He stood from his chair, "if however, you disagree, then I will of course leave so that you may continue planning, and swear to keep all that was said here today in complete confidence." |
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| Gillette | 22 Aug 2009, 11:50 PM Post #15 |
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Deckhand
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"I restate my case, sir, that my qualities uniquely qualify me for this mission." Aside from the traits he had just named, Gillette found that he was inclined to agree. Then Evans stood up and looked resolved. "If however, you disagree, then I will of course leave so that you may continue planning, and swear to keep all that was said here today in complete confidence." It seemed that he had made his point. He felt Johnson's gaze on him but pointedly ignored it. To let the marine see him distracted was entirely undesired. "In point of fact, Mister Evans, two are needed for this, and there are no others suited to be asked." That was, of course, leaving out the fact that Gillette very much preferred to go himself, however impossible that was. "That means sit down, boy," Johnson growled, clearly impatient to get on with the actual mission discussion. Gillette fixed him with an icy glare. "Thank you, Corporal." Marines. Honestly. |
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| James Norrington | 23 Aug 2009, 05:08 PM Post #16 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans didn't need to be told twice to sit back down. He dropped abruptly into it, wincing as the wood smacked against his rear. He resolved next time to sit down a tad more slowly. So that was it, he was going on this mission, provided he didn't get it into his head to ask any more brilliant personal questions. "Will Johnson and I go together? Or are we going to act as though we are not part of a group?" he asked. Personally, the thought that two people standing around and obviously together were far more suspicious especially asking after a former commodore, but there were benefits to doing that. For one thing, when people wouldn't give a second thought to hitting him, they would for the larger marine. "It's also quite a bit to cover, how long do we get to look?" |
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| Gillette | 23 Aug 2009, 06:46 PM Post #17 |
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Deckhand
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Good. Evans had sat down again. With a sigh, Gillette looked down at the chart on the table. That was one obstacle overcome. Now all he had to worry about was how to get the two of them ashore and later back again without arousing too much suspicion. Not to mention how to keep Intrepid from attracting unnecessary attention where she swung at her anchor. "Will Johnson and I go together? Or are we going to act as though we are not part of a group?" He thought about that for a moment. His original plan had been to send them separately, the better to preserve anonymity. Now, however, he was contemplating an alteration to that plan. "Yes," he answered. "I will leave the choosing of cover stories to you, but you will travel together." Then there was another question, equally thoughtful as the first. "It's also quite a bit to cover, how long do we get to look?" "Three days," Gillette told him, having already firmly decided on that. "You are to return to the beach by midnight three days from this evening, where you'll be met by Lowescroft and Sergeant Myles." |
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| James Norrington | 23 Aug 2009, 08:35 PM Post #18 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"I will leave the choosing of cover stories to you, but you will travel together." Evans grinned widely. Now that promised to be much fun. He looked over at Johnson and winked. Oh, he'd come up with something good and clever. Maybe he could be a noble who'd lost his fortune to Norrington's family, and he was out to gain revenge? Perhaps he was a bloodthirsty pirate who enjoyed women...no...he needed a better word for that, one that would fit with that personna..ah, yes! He was a bloodthirsty pirate who enjoyed the "womins" and who didn't do much sailing or terrifying. Or, perhaps better yet, he was a doctor who came to Tortuga to heal people because he was so kind of heart, and that was all he liked to do. And he'd be a blushing virgin, too, so all the ladies would pity him. He shook his head, that wouldn't do. He was to be searching for Norrington, not sampling the local delights. And no one would think a doctor at the age he wanted to portray would actually be that innocent. Men were men after all. "Three days. You are to return to the beach by midnight three days from this evening, where you'll be met by Lowescroft and Sergeant Myles." Three days to sample the--no, no, couldn't. This wasn't shore leave. This was...work. Too bad he was a Royal Navy officer, and not some dashing spy who was out searching for Norrington, one who could mix business and pleasure, and who got to work with all sorts of wonderful and cool gadgets. Pity that wouldn't be a good cover, because it would be quite fun. "No problem, sir," he said, "if there's anything to find, we'll find it." |
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| Gillette | 23 Aug 2009, 08:58 PM Post #19 |
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Deckhand
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The midshipman's face creased into a broad grin, which made Gillette somewhat nervous. It was going to be a fine challenge to not worry about what Evans would ultimately come up with to explain why he and Johnson were on the pirate-infested island. He glanced at Johnson, and was not reassured to see a thoughtful expression on the marine's face. Yes, he thought, he was definitely going to worry about what trouble these two would get themselves into. "No problem, sir," Evans told him, mastering his smirk at last, "if there's anything to find, we'll find it." "Good," Gillette said and tried to contain his sudden doubts. "I'll leave you to your planning, then. It is nearly time I went on deck anyway. Come find me when you are ready." Then he made himself walk casually out, giving orders to the sentry outside that no one was to enter until he returned. |
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| James Norrington | 23 Aug 2009, 11:27 PM Post #20 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans sat in shock. Gillette was leaving him alone, unattended (other than a marines, but Johnson didn't count) in his cabin? Had the captain gone mad? He hopped up from the chair, so excited by the opportunity that he hardly knew what to do. He could try and search every nook and cranny in the cabin, looking for good hiding places to put fish and other dead sea life in an effort to stink of the cabin, or he could rearrange things...although pulling something now would almost be more dangerous as the captain would know exactly who was responsible... Like a child in a candy shop in anticipation of the sugar rush, he was practically bouncing, until his eyes fell upon Gillette's writing desk. There was no amount of self-control in the world, Evans decided, that would be able to keep him from messing with that, and looking for what he could find that would be interesting. Letters to his ladies in other ports? That prospect was so exciting that he skipped to it and ran his hands lovingly up and down it. A letter Gillette wrote to a lover would not only be fascinating to read, but it would fetch a high price in the fort, but he would have to be careful how he advertised it. He couldn't just put it up on the board and go, "Item for sale: one letter, written by W. Gillette, to lover in Tortuga. No less than five casks of rum shall be accepted as payment. Leave note to 'Zorro'." This would have to be a word of mouth thing...and maybe he could illustrate the letter, too, if it were full of sufficiently interesting descriptions... "My god!" he said, stroking the desk still, "this is so huge!" he couldn't help his voice pitching higher an octive as he said it, and the volume raising as well. Edit: for typos Edited by Alia-Hildwyn, 23 Aug 2009, 11:33 PM.
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 24 Aug 2009, 12:10 AM Post #21 |
Master of Puppets
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 When the captain had gone, Johnson got immediately to his feet, glad of the man's departure. He wanted to get on with the planning of their movements ashore, but naturally the midshipman had no interest in that at all. Bloody midshipmen. Evans had gone prancing over to the captain's writing desk and was looking it over as if it was a newly-taken prize. Shaking his head, Johnson tried to concentrate on the chart on the table. He didn't know a great deal about navigation or chart-reading or any of that muck, but he had learned enough here and there to be able to make the barest sense of all the markings and squiggly lines. The marine traced a calloused finger over what he'd figured out to be the island's coastline. It looked like there was a good place to run ashore right there, he thought. But of course the seamen who would be manning the boat taking them ashore would know better where they were likely to be dropped off. Evans was still babbling to himself over near the writing desk and Johnson had had enough of that nonsense. He straighted up from his study of the chart and turned toward the midshipman. "If you're all finished with that, sir," the corporal said shortly. "Maybe we can get to doing something useful." |
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| James Norrington | 24 Aug 2009, 03:44 PM Post #22 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans turned around to regard Johnson, his expression haughty, "this is useful, something that you will one day appreciate fully..." He fave the desk one last long stroke, knowing that he was missing the opportunity of a lifetime right now. But good things would come to those who waited. He pat his pocket, grinning. Just before he left, he promised. "So we need a story," he said, carefully studying the marine. "Something believable if we have to be together. But perhaps first we should have a reason why we are out looking for ol'Norrie. Something that would make people keen to help us. Besides money, somehow I don't think money for bribery is going to be part of what we go ashore with..." he tapped his chin thoughtfullly, "revenge? A piece of the action, bounty hunters..." He grinned at the marine, "Any preferences?" |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 24 Aug 2009, 04:17 PM Post #23 |
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Master of Puppets
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"This is useful," Evans told him snottily as he turned around ."Something that you will one day appreciate fully..." Somehow, Johnson doubted that. He said nothing and looked back at the chart. If the midshipman had no interest in helping, he would just have to live with whatever Johnson managed to come up with. But of course Evans could never be left out of planning something that he considered to be a lark. "So we need a story," the boy said. "Something believable if we have to be together. But perhaps first we should have a reason why we are out looking for ol'Norrie. Something that would make people keen to help us. Besides money, somehow I don't think money for bribery is going to be part of what we go ashore with..." - here, Johnson rolled his eyes - "...revenge? A piece of the action, bounty hunters..." Evans grinned at him. "Any preferences?" "Better to keep it simple," Johnson said. "Revenge'll do. Jack Sparrow cheated your da, my brother, outta half a year's wage and we're both out after him for it. 'Cause where Sparrow's at, that ship of his ain't far off." It wasn't glamorous or dashing, but it was a damn sight more believable than masquerading as bounty hunters or something equally mad. Midshipmen. Honestly. |
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| James Norrington | 22 Sep 2009, 02:43 AM Post #24 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"Revenge," Evans agreed. The two left the cabin, having agreed on their details, but not before Evans gave one last longing glance at Gillette's writing desk. Such promise...but it would have to be for another time. Duty called. A pity that she was a bitch and forced you to obey her. <<><<>><>> The two were rowed ashore away from the main bustling port of Tortuga under the cover of dusk to avoid drawing attention to themselves, and the vessel from which they came. Such precautions meant that Johnson and Evans would have a greater distance to cover to get to the city proper and begin their search, but the secrecy of their true purpose was paramount. Evans swatted at his face when a particularly large horsefly landed on it. There were very many things he missed when serving at sea--decent food, women, steady ground, but the much larger number of bothersome insects that seemed concentrated on land was not one of them. The cover of dusk was gone, and Evans was trying to blink rapidly to clear the tired feeling from his eyes. It wasn't working. Never seemed to when it was important. Going more than a day of sleep wouldn't hurt him, but he was willing to acknowledge that he wasn't at his best when such was the case. Looking around, he couldn't help but think that Tortuga was a curious place. The place was very active--especially for a place that he'd heard had such an active night-life. Perhaps it was rather that they never slept at all? 'cept with whores, he snickered at the thought. "So..." he said, looking around, trying to decide where to start. His roving eye came across a tavern sign, after it had judged a few women and their...acreage, boasting its name to be the Faithful Bride. What a curious name. "Fancy a drink?" he asked Johnson, grinning. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 1 Oct 2009, 03:25 AM Post #25 |
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Master of Puppets
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Tortuga was a wretched place, Johnson thought. It was loud, filthy, and wantonly lecherous. Port Royal was positively tame by comparison. What a disgusting vile place. Perfect for pirates and thieving scum. He felt hopelessly soiled just by being on the island. But Captain Gillette obviously had sent him to babysit Mister Evans, though why a midshipman had to be involved at all was a mystery. Johnson would've preferred to have Martin Bell with him. Bell, at least, knew how to blend into places like this. It was worse in the actual village, if that was even possible. Johnson suppressed a shudder when a visibly poxed woman passed too close by. They had better find the commodore - ex commodore - or any news about him as soon as absolutely possible, so they could get the hell off this island again. He resolved to burn his clothes the instant they were back aboard ship. He'd even go so far as to bathe, if it would get this irrational feeling of dirt off him. "So..." Mister Evans drawled, looking around like a schoolboy in a sweets shop, "Fancy a drink?" A drink, in this place? Johnson felt distinctly ill at the mere thought of it. "Of course," he muttered. If he was to remain beneath suspicion, he had to appear willing to make sacrifices. He was suddenly glad that none of his marines were here after all. He'd never live this venture down if any of them were present. Bad enough there was a bloody midshipman tagging along. "Keep your eyes open for... anything." He'd almost said 'the commodore'. Dammit all. Some habits refused to be broken. |
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| James Norrington | 23 Dec 2009, 02:55 AM Post #26 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"Keep your eyes open for... anything." "Oh trust me," Evans said, barely prying his eyes away from a lady of the night just before her eyes made contact, "I am definitely keeping them open." Without hesitation he stepped through the doorway, past the gathered working girls (and some decidedly over-friendly men) into the smokey and filthy interior. The whole place smelt of stale and spilt alcohol, and of unwashed men. Worse even then being out at sea. And to think, that he had thought the bilges were bad... He looked around realising that he was holding up the way when Johnson brushed against him from behind, and he moved forward, keeping the flow near the door unobstructed. Loud raucous laughter came from one end, while he fancied he could hear an argument from another end of the establishment. The whole thing was a cacophony of noises, sounds, and smells that Evans thought his head might just slide off his shoulders from all the unnaturalness. He used to laugh at how unschooled and innocent O'Brien was, but holy hell, apparently the joke was all on him. "'Erm..." he said hesitating for a minute, "yeah, let's erm....get a drink." He looked up at Johnson expectantly. "D'you think we should go up? Or sit down at a table? Never been in a bar before looking of information. You know...on...and evil blaggard who did bad things that I want to kill..." his voice sounded uncertain. What a wonderful start. He sidestepped just in time to allow a large burly man (truly, he was at least the mass of three men) past him, who made his way to a table set up with several men drinking, with a stack of papers. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 10 Jan 2010, 07:13 PM Post #27 |
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Master of Puppets
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"Oh trust me. I am definitely keeping them open." Johnson rolled his eyes. Leave it to the damn fool middie to be looking everywhere but where he should. It was obvious the boy had never been in a truly seedy tavern before. Equally obvious was the fact that there would be no relying on Evans' vigilance. Lucky for him Johnson was there too. "Erm... yeah, let's erm....get a drink." Evans, predictably, did not seem able to get a grip on his own brain. "D'you think we should go up? Or sit down at a table? Never been in a bar before looking of information. You know...on...and evil blaggard who did bad things that I want to kill..." Yes, Johnson thought, let's just go start blathering on about wanting to kill a man. That would go over great with this lot. "To the bar," he said, giving the midshipman a none-too-gentle push forward. "Better let me do the talkin'." Hopefully the boy would do just that. Johnson elbowed a man aside and leaned against the stained and scarred bar. The barman took his time coming over, but that was only to be expected. "Help you," the man rasped, looking at Evans with undisguised curiosity. "Lookin' for somebody," Johnson said without preamble. " 'Bout a piece of business. Bloke name of Sparrow." The barman stared at him. |
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| James Norrington | 10 Jan 2010, 09:25 PM Post #28 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"Better let me do the talkin'." "Yeah," Evans agreed, and was promptly pushed ahead of the marine, and moved aside to let him take the lead, both figuratively and physically. He smirked as Johnson edged out another man, who gave the disguised marine a drunken considering look, as if he were weighing the chances of being successful on shoving him back, before he finally shrugged and stumbled off to the side. He was moving worse than a drunken sailor just off a ship. He turned his attention back to Johnson, and the barman who finally meandered his way over. "Help you." Evans blinked. He wasn't sure he made out what exactly the man said, it sounded pretty garbled, and also quite unlike any accent he was very sure of. He looked to Johnson to answer. "Lookin' for somebody, 'bout a piece of business. Bloke name of Sparrow." Short, sweet, and to the point. They weren't kidding when they said that marines avoided any sort of superfluous talk, were they? The barkeep continued to look at them and say nothing. Maybe he was mute? No, Evans realised, he had asked them if he could help them. Oooh, something clicked and he looked up at Johnson and tried to push his way in and lean over the bar. As he did that he shoved his hand down his trousers and pulled out a purse where he quickly pulled out a few coins that he hoped would cover this (if not, he was going to be seriously angry), and dropped them in front of the 'keep. "A rum for my friend and I, and a little something for your troubles," he said, quoting some ridiculous novel he's read a few months ago. The hero'd done the same thing in there, and he only hoped that Johnson wasn't really familiar with that, or he'd probably think him much sillier than he already was. The barkeeper, hmphed at them and turned and went to go get them their drinks. Hopefully this tiny bit could be left out of their report to Captain Gillette when they finally had to make it. Even if all things turned out well, he was sure the dour captain could find some fault of his. He fidgeted, careful not to make eye contact with the marine. The 'keep returned and brought them their drinks. "Man over in the corner with the old navy coat. He's one of his crew." |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 10 Jan 2010, 09:45 PM Post #29 |
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Master of Puppets
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"A rum for my friend and I, and a little something for your troubles," Mister Evans piped up, tossing some coins on to the bartop. It was all Johnson could do not to scowl. Didn't the middie have any sense? It worked, at least, but it certainly was not what Johnson would have done. He only nodded at the barman when their tankards were delivered. With luck, the grubby little man wouldn't remember their faces. What he wouldn't give to come here with a regiment of marines... "Man over in the corner with the old navy coat. He's one of his crew." "Thanks," Johnson rumbled, taking his tankard. "Come on, boy." Evans had better follow close, or he'd be left behind - which wasn't hard in the well-crowded tavern. It wasn't hard to spot Norrington either, now that he knew what to look for. Old navy coat indeed... Johnson shook his head slightly. What was it with sea officers and having no brains? "Don't bleedin' move," Johnson said tersely as he helped himself to a chair at Norrington's table. He wasn't about to risk the man trying to run again. Even though the man wasn't an officer anymore, it was all Johnson could do not to add 'sir' to the end of the command. Old habits and all. "Got some questions for you. About this bugger you're workin' for." |
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| James Norrington | 10 Jan 2010, 10:26 PM Post #30 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans grabbed his rum, and took after Johnson. He tried to rush to keep up with him, but had to slow down the first time after some of the rum sloshed over the side. He brought the tankard up to his face and sucked some of the rum out as he walked forward, stopping only to cough and choke as he was unused to it being mixed so that it was this strong. He was more intent upon his rum than he was actually on walking so that he manage to kick the back of Johnson's foot, but fortunately stopped before he walked straight into him and spilt his rum all over the marine. It'd anger the marine, no doubt, not that he'd dare take it out on him, but worse yet, he'd lose his precious rum. So....precious. "Don't bleedin' move." Evans frowned, and wondered why exactly he should have to defer to the marine's command, since, he had the higher rank and he looked up at the man they were told to speak to. Long stringy hair, a beard that looked like the man had been shaving with a rock, and a tattered blue navy coat all right. Funny that looked a bit like a post-cap-- Evans eyes shot back to the man's face and he was able to distinguish the features as familiar. It was Norrington. Good god...he looked awful. Leaving the Navy sure looked like it had taken a toll on him. "Got some questions for you. About this bugger you're workin' for." "Indeed," Norrington sneered. His right hand, which had previously been resting on the table, dropped down and moved over to the left until his eyes had flickered over both the marine and the young man standing near him, and recognition flashed in his eyes. He visibly relaxed, if only for a second before he tensed up again. His had returned to clutching his tankard. Evans shifted uncomfortably. They found what they were here for, didn't they? Shouldn't they be off and leave? Not that he'd complain too much if they were left to finish their drinks. He quickly gulped down some more. He'd paid for it, he wasn't about to lose his opportunity to drink it. "I work for no one," he responded, "my employment was terminated, so if you do not mind," he said standing, "I have places to be." He moved to walk by the two men, lightly brushing Johnson in his chair, and taking Evans by the shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before he pushed him to the side. "Um..." Evans said, looking at Johnson, and then back at Norrington's retreating form. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 11 Jan 2010, 03:14 AM Post #31 |
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Master of Puppets
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Despite his warning, Norrington twitched, but fortunately did not seem inclined toward aggression. A pity, Johnson thought. He was in the mood for a scuffle. "Indeed," the former commodore sneered. "I work for no one. My employment was terminated, so if you do not mind, I have places to be." That was enough for Johnson. He stood up as well and as Norrington moved past him, the marine tossed the contents his full tankard over the sea officer's back. "I didn't say you could leave," Johnson snarled. This was ridiculous. He had not come all this way, dressed like some common labourer no less, only to be brushed aside like so much rubbish in the gutter. "We got some questions. About Sparrow." This could be managed easily or not so easily, in Johnson's view. His leg was still a little sore but he figured he make a decent chase of it if he had to. Or a decent fight, if Norrington wanted to be troublesome. Johnson had never struck an officer before... |
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| James Norrington | 11 Jan 2010, 04:07 AM Post #32 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans gasped and looked on in horror as Johnson threw his rum at Norrington. Was the marine mad? Norrington was a...well, not their commander, not anymore. But still! He was twice the man that bloody St Montgomery was. There was one thing Evans would grant Johnson. The man had stones. Big ones. "I didn't say you could leave." Evans looked back at the former commodore, watching as he stood very still for a moment and finally spoke. "I never asked for your permission." Evans shrunk back. This was getting well out of hand. What were the two playing at? This was absolutely the worst time, and worst place to get into a fight. If anything, it confirmed his opinion that anyone over the age of sixteen was clearly an idiot. A pity people had to continue getting older, because that was definitely not something he wanted to do, if it meant that he'd behave like these two. "We got some questions. About Sparrow," Johnson said. Norrington turned around and took a step towards Johnson, when Evans finally decided that if neither of the two men were capable of acting like men, then it was his job to do so. He stepped between the two of them. I may have just made a very, very big mistake, he thought. He looked up at Johnson giving him a beseeching look, before he turned to Norrington. "Please, it is very important." Norrington gave a sigh. "You both can't take a hint can you? I will not speak with you here," he said, tilting his head back to indicate something to the side of them. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 11 Jan 2010, 04:30 PM Post #33 |
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Master of Puppets
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"I never asked for your permission." Oh really. Johnson put a hand on the hilt of his sword, all but drooling for the chance for a scrap. This fool's errand could have no better outcome than that. What the hell had Captain Gillette been thinking, taking such an enormous risk just for this? "Please, it is very important," Mister Evans whined, much to Johnson's disgust. Why had he been made to take a midshipman with him again? "You both can't take a hint can you? I will not speak with you here." Johnson rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous. "Ain't here to take invisible hints," he replied petulantly. "But if you ain't up for talkin', there's no point in us stayin'." He'd had enough of this. There was never any easy dealings with sea officers. The marine set his tankard down on the table and started for the door. "Dunno what Cap'n Gillette was thinkin', comin' here after you," he muttered in an undertone as he pushed past Norrington. Mister Evans could stay behind if he liked. Johnson wouldn't wait for him. |
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| James Norrington | 11 Jan 2010, 06:11 PM Post #34 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"Dunno what Cap'n Gillette was thinkin', comin' here after you." Evans felt Norrington's eyes upon him as he watched Johnson leave. "Is it true?" "Is what true?" Evans asked. "That he came?" Evans' eyebows practically rose past his hairline. Holy shit! Maybe Norrington and Gillette really were...you know. "Erm, yes," he said quickly, hoping his cheeks weren't colouring. Norrington may no longer be his superiour officer, but that didn't mean he wanted to explain why he was blushing, and what sort of awful mental image was the cause of it. Or his earlier, rather disrepectful and tasteless comments to his captain. "That damned fool! He knew...something important must've come up," He seized Evans by the arm, and pushed him ahead of him. "Follow him, I'll be right behind you." Evans nearly choked, and soon as they were out of the tavern, he grabbed Norrington's sleeve and took off back the way he had come hoping to catch up with the marine. "Johnson!" He shouted. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 12 Jan 2010, 04:31 PM Post #35 |
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Master of Puppets
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He was going to have words with Captain Gillette about this. Johnson pushed his way carelessly through the stinking, drunken maze of people that clogged the street. This venture had been doomed to failure from the start. It had been madness to even leave Port Royal. They were all going to be hanged when the Navy caught up to them. Every last stupid one of them. "Johnson!" Oh lovely, the marine thought. What did Mister Evans want now? Their mission was over. They'd found Norrington. If the man wanted to be an impossible blackguard, Johnson could not be bothered with him. "What." Johnson snapped, barely pausing to glance over his shoulder. The midshipman had better not be asking if they could stay. Johnson would be only too happy to leave him. |
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12:43 PM Mar 12
