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| Needle in a Haystack; July 1751 | |
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| Topic Started: 22 Aug 2009, 03:17 AM (882 Views) | |
| James Norrington | 17 Jan 2010, 03:52 PM Post #36 |
Norrington, James Norrington
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Evans was sorely tempted to yell at Johnson to stop acting like an idiot. If he would just turn around and see that he had Norrington...well, it really wouldn't make much of an improvement, he decided. But at least he could stop acting all sulky-like. Now, that was his *own* job, not the marine's. He released Norrington's sleeve from his grip and gave him a look promising him that if he were to try and sneak away he would take it personally, and challenge him to a duel. And lose. But the threat was still there. He wasn't sure why the former commodore had to chuckle though. He caught up with Johnson, and tried to match his pace, difficult as it was for a significantly shorter lad. Evans was afraid to admit it, but he feared this would be his height for the rest of his life. Until he started shrinking with age. He swallowed. He'd rather die in battle than face old age. "I've got Norrington," He looked at Johnson's face, before turning his attention back to the path, "he's coming with us. Mission accomplished. And I can't believe you wasted that rum. Many times better than the stuff we get on Intrepid, you know. I suppose I could try and get you some of my ration, seeing as how I'll be a bit over today." |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 3 Mar 2010, 04:50 PM Post #37 |
Master of Puppets
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 That nuisance boy had followed him. Wonderful. What the hell did he want? Johnson had no interest in wasting any more time. They'd done what they'd come to do and now it was time to leave. To him, it was that painfully simple. "I've got Norrington," the midshipman said. "He's coming with us. Mission accomplished." Johnson barely listened to the rest of the boy's prattling. The stinking, tattered excuse of a commodore was coming with them? Marvellous. They could now spend the better part of two days with him until the boat was sent for them. "Fine," the corporal grunted, not caring about getting anybody's rum ration as repayment for anything. He just wanted off this island. "If he's comin', he better get movin'," Johnson added. It wasn't worth noting that they wouldn't be leaving anywhere just yet. |
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| Andrea Costa | 6 Mar 2010, 10:40 PM Post #38 |
Pirate
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Andrea had been drinking quietly a glass of rhum in that tavern. Everything had been going strangely from bad to worse for him lately. He had no more ship to be on, no more girlfriend, no more… anything! This time the mandolin, always his good friend, was also on strike and it seemed to have lost its sound a few weeks ago… and this had never happened before! Even when losing his first love, Mireille, he could at least play and sing his sorrow! The thought of Mireille brought a sad expression on his face. It wasn’t hurting as the more recent heartbreak did… but, if at least he understood his Irish fairy’s fascination with a man of her own people, with whom a lovers’ talk wasn’t a continuous struggle to understand each other, he couldn’t ever understand Mireille’s way of thinking… if she still loved him, how she pretended, then why could she marry another, a man who could have been her father? And still claimed that for Andrea nothing would change, that he would be as warmly expected each time when arriving to Marseille. She laughed in his face, at his questions, telling him that he was the sweetest lover, the one to keep forever in her heart, while her fiance was a rich merchant willing to provide for her all his hopefully short life… and let her a good inheritance afterwards. This was indeed a thing he couldn’t understand and couldn’t accept… After telling Mireille he wouldn’t accept to pray for her new husband’s untimely death, neither to sneak on him, he followed his fellows’ advice and tried to drown the sorrow of having lost his first love in brandy or in the English whiskey they captured from the attacked ships… but it did not work, a few attempts leaving him with the strong conviction that getting drunk is one of the most pathetic sight for a person… Now, when he had nothing more to lose, he could repeat the experience, hoping to find an elusive answer to all his misadventures of the latest month at the bottom of the glass… He saw another of the pirates of the “Black Pearl” at one table – of course he knew the fellow, even if they weren’t friends. The two guys who got seated at his table were trying to look friendlier than they were – or was he mistaken? Something was not what it seemed to be… And he was never one to deny a challenge... This evening was beginning to get more interesting! Finishing his glass, he put a coin on the table and left, following the three men. If nothing was wrong, then he’d find another tavern, maybe with some music too… But if he needed him, he’d be close, for a helping hand – or blade… He had no quarrell with him ever, it was the captain who made him leave, after a hot-tempered word exchange which wasn’t missing much to degenerate into a full fight… And, according to the law learnt many years ago, a crewmate, be him a former one, was still one worth to be helped in times of trouble… |
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| James Norrington | 13 Mar 2010, 11:36 PM Post #39 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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Adults! Evans was firmly determined to never be one. He never wanted to grow up. All this, "being serious" and "not playing pranks" was seriously overrated. Not to mention the tizzy fits they could have. He would admit that he didn't always get along with his mates, but he never took an issue as seriously as they seemed to. He conveniently pushed all thoughts of his last argument with O'Brien from his mind. He stopped and turned towards Norrington who was lagging behind again. He waved at him to hurry on, and couldn't help but wonder why he should be bothering to lag. Didn't he want to come back to the Navy? Who'd want to ever willingly spend more time in the company of pirates. They smelled, were dirty, and really...need anyone ever say anymore than "Jack Sparrow"? As Norrington caught up to the two of him, Evans couldn't help but feel rather uncomfortable. It looked like Johnson and Norrington were making a point of not acknowledging each other. Score another for grown up behaviour. "You both may be interested to know that we are being followed," he said in a low voice. |
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| Royal Navy & Marines | 14 Mar 2010, 04:24 PM Post #40 |
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Master of Puppets
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"You both may be interested to know that we are being followed." The statement caused no outward reaction in Johnson, but he was instantly alert. All other thoughts dissolved away in the face of this revelation. He knew enough not to look back or slow his stride, lest he give any warning to whoever was tailing them. "One of your friends, sir?" The corporal asked, his eyes searching the terrain ahead for any good places to step off the path and set a hasty ambush. It could hardly be anybody else, all things considered. Perhaps for the first time since arriving on this cursed island, Johnson gave no sign of his usual thinly-veiled temper. If they were followed back to the spot on the coast where they'd been landed, it would put the whole ship in danger. |
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| James Norrington | 14 Apr 2010, 05:20 PM Post #41 |
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Norrington, James Norrington
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"One of your friends, sir?" Evans' eyes widened and he instinctively looked back over his shoulder before Norrington grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed forward, squeezing him unnecessarily hard. "Ow," he said, not missing Norrington's death glare as he dropped his hand from Evans' shoulder. He brought his own hand up and rubbed at it. "That hurt," he said quietly. "I didn't recognise him," Norrington said, calmly, "However, I would recommend we lose him before coming to the Intrepid, and in a way that may not arouse his suspicions." Evans snorted. "Easier said than done." Norrington fixed the midshipman with another look, before addressing his next question to the marine, clearly fed up with the midshipman. "How far are we off from Intrepid?" "If we're so worried we should just kill him and be done with it, right, Johnson?" Evans asked, noting Norrington's shocked expression. "You're not our superiour anymore, so we should call the shots." |
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| Andrea Costa | 11 May 2010, 10:32 AM Post #42 |
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Pirate
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This night was unusually quieter than the boisterous ones which made Tortuga’s tradition, at least in this part towards the docks. Andrea could hear the discussion between the men, even if not exactly and only at the level of a whisper. However, the calm words his former crewmate had said were carried by the wind to his ears: "I didn't recognise him. However, I would recommend we lose him before coming to the Intrepid, and in a way that may not arouse his suspicions." Andrea wasn’t keen to get involved in anything dangerous just for the sake of it. He had wanted to help a former crewmate because it was right to do so. Who knew when he would have been the one needing help and God would turn His eyes elsewhere, remembering that he didn’t do anything when he could have? But if he wasn’t needed there, this was totally something else. "If he doesn't want to be helped, his business! I don't care anymore if he betrayed his captain or not, and what he wants to do," he thought. "Captain Sparrow deserves anything he'd get, as long as he doesn't get it from me. I have told him my point already, and I am happy that I have remained alive following that quarrell." He headed towards the closest tavern to continue his merry night. Well, merry for the ones who looked from afar. The desert in his heart and mind couldn’t be filled so easily, be it with booze or with songs. |
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4:15 AM Jul 30
