forum Pirates!! (closed)

Started September 06, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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"Yay!"
Thaddeus eagerly relinquished control of the tiller to Lydia and skipped down the stairs to meet Claude, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Come on, laddy! I'll teach ya how to sponge down the inside of a parrot gun!"

"No thanks." Claude deadpanned, arms crossed. "I'd much rather see your maps." This man, will not take any of your shit, thank you very much.

Thaddeus pulled his revolver and cocked it against Claude's head.
"Now notice, laddy, that I wasn't askin' ya."

Lydia grabbed the tiller from Thaddeus. She saw him put a gun to the kid’s head and snorted. “It’s best to do as he says, kid. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

"Kill me, I dare you." Claude tilted his head, blinking slowly. "From the state of this ship and your materials, you'll need the ransom you're going to put on my head." He stared at the man who had the gun to his head, his eyes cold.

Thaddeus snickered. Taking the revolver, he flipped it so that he was holding the barrel and smashed Claude's temple with the handle. The hostage fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, and the side of his head started to bleed.

"I might not want to kill you, but I can certainly hurt you," the pirate said with much more polish in his voice than before.

Claude winced but just tore off part of his shirt and held it to his head to stop the bleeding a bit. "I've endured worse from my own father." He raised an eyebrow in challenge. He may be more into academics, but he was still the son of a marine. Claude has a high pain tolerance.

"Heh heh HA HAH!" Right-Ear laughed. "Oi, look at this brat! He thinks he's got balls! Ooh, can we keel-haul him, Captain? Flog'im?" Thaddeus gasped at the thought of another idea. "Maybe we can shoot him out of the 42-pounder!"

"Hm, so I obviously know you're not the one with the brains." The young man stated, keeping the cloth firmly on the wound. Fifteen minutes, maybe more for it to stop. He reminded himself.

Thaddeus turned to look down at Claude. "I don't think you should be insultin' my intelligence level when you're on the ground, bleedin'. Besides, weren't you the one that asked for books when you were bein' kidnapped?! No, we're not gonna give you books! This ain't some pleasure cruise where you get a free fuckin' vacation in the Bahamas, you twit!" he roared. Right-Ear placed his boot on Claude's chest, bending down to meet his gaze. "We're here to make your life miserable! And fin'ly, when you can't take it no more, Daddy Dearest is gonna pay a fortune to get his sweet, baby boy back! We're gonna be rich and you can have a story to tell to the tavern whores linin' up to kiss the 'brave son of the Admiral!' What a fuckin' riot!"

Damian walked over and set a hand on Thaddeus' chest, pushing him backward with just enough force to be a warning. They didn't need the kid, but he would be well worth any trouble as long as they kept him alive. And relatively unharmed. His mouth would make that difficult, but Damian was sure he could manage. "Stand down. We'll teach the brat a lesson in time- hell, I'll let you swing the whip- but for now, we'll need all hands on deck. That includes the maggot."

Drew returned to the deck, dressed in a loose but movable shirt, brown trousers, and boots. "What's happen'd here?" He asked as he moved to be with his crew. Claude was on the ground and Thaddeus was being held back. Why am I not surprised?

Thaddeus grumbled, but the message was received.

"Come on, then," the pirate said, grabbing Claude by his shoulder and dragging him to his feet. "I'm gonna teach you a life skill that isn't sitting on a lounge while being fed grapes."

"Brat got talkative, Thaddeus wasn't willing to humor him." Damian's hand drifted back to his side and he nudged the is with his boot, waiting to see his reaction. "He recommended Claude here get keelhauled or shot out of the 42-pounder, but seeing as you're my quartermaster I think punishments are best left up to you."

Claude was silent for a moment. "I was being fucking sarcastic you pillock. Plus, even if 'Daddy Dearest' would pay for a son's ransom. It wouldn't be me." He didn't care that he might be dead in a few minutes, if he was, he would have a hell of debate for it.

"I mean, if we were gonna do that, we'd have to chop 'im up into little pieces," Thaddeus called back. "They might be our biggest guns, but they ain't big enough to shoot a person out of. I remember seein' a bronze replica a decade or to back that Napoleon used, or summ'n like that. Big enough to fit at least two people in the barrel. Never actually saw combat, now that I think about it," the pirate said, stroking his chin.

"Right-Ear, don't waste gunpowder by shooting the kid out of it. Just put him to work before the storm hits." She looked down at Claude doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. "I don't trust that picaroon not to fall off the Whore and straight into the ocean. He doesn't look like he's got very good sea legs." She looked towards the Captain and Drew. "And can someone man the tiller while I put these maps away? They're too expensive to get rained on for Neptune's sake."

"Yes, no good sea legs. The son of a marine admiral." Claude retorted dryly, voice dripping with sarcasm. He looked like he wasn't supprised by anything, but honestly, he was screaming on the inside at how stupid he was for getting himself kidnapped.

Lydia's gaze zeroed in on Claude. "I've worked on a lot of ships, lad, of all different sorts. You know what I know happens to kids like you during storms? The 'children of marine admiral's'? They get locked up below decks or in daddy's office. They get brought peeled grapes while they safely wait out the storm below. Because everyone knows what I know. You would get tossed overboard the minute a wave hit us." It started to gently rain. Lydia looked quickly up. "Now can someone please let me get my maps?"

“I’ll do it,” Drew said, taking over the tiller. He narrowed his eyes at Claude. He didn’t think his father would actually pay the ransom, which wasn’t a good sign. Well if we get the word out through gossip that his son had been kidnapped and wasn’t paying the ransom, that could damage his reputation enough to change his mind, hopefully.

Thaddeus opened the hatch that led to the belly of the ship and sent Claude in first. Coming in after him, he began talking as his feet hit the condensed stairs.
"Awright laddy, first question! Do you know what a cannon is?"

(I love Thaddeus)
"Thanks." Lydia flashed Drew a greatful smiled and practically ran to her maps. Most of them were gifts given to her, and three of them were silk and embroidered. Because they were so expensive, they were also incredibly accurate, the newest ones there were. She rolled them up and took them below-deck to her quarters. There were four pegs on the wall that belonged to her. One of them she hung her coat and her sword on. Two of the others were for maps. On one she hung the maps that didn't mean as much. The bag that held those maps was plain burlap. The other hook held a cylindrical bamboo case lined with layers of silk, making it bulletproof. The last peg was for the rest of her tools, which she put in a silk bag. She hung her maps, her tools, her sword, and her jacket and went back above deck. Every hand would be needed tonight, especially her's. They didn't want to get caught on the edge of the storm and stay there all night. They needed to navigate through.

Thaddeus opened the hatch that led to the belly of the ship and sent Claude in first. Coming in after him, he began talking as his feet hit the condensed stairs.
"Awright laddy, first question! Do you know what a cannon is?"

"Of course I know what a canon is." Claude decided that if he was going to be here, he might as well be nice… As nice as he got. "Do you think map lady will let me look at some of her maps?" He wondered aloud, didn't even realize he had spoken.

"First off, good, at least I don't have to waste my time with that. Second off, absolutely the fuck not! She's had those maps for ages, she barely lets ANYONE touch them. She only lets us even get near them because she trusts us not to make off with 'em."

Leading Claude to a small room belowdecks, he opened the door with a flourish.
"Ta-da!"
Inside, there were gleaming brass shells of all shapes and sizes fitted with iron and lead caps stacked in neat boxes and on shelves.