We haven't got a plank. Just jump. [LOCKED]

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

Most people thought Lord Arthur Kirkland insane when he decided to give up his life of luxury (for the most part) and live on a stinky smelly ship with a bunch of other men. However, both the sea and the prospect of treasure were a siren song Arthur couldn't resist. Since he was a patriotic Englishman (who obviously enjoyed the thought of beating up the French and the Spanish) he received Letters of Marque from the king himself. These Letters of Marque assured him that he was not just a thief in a ship, he was pirating, no, privateering in the name of his country.

Next on his list was a suitable outfit. He didn't want to ruin any of his current clothes, and he knew they were hardly suitable for scaring up some hardy seamen for his crew. Both money and fear had to do the talking, lest they try a mutiny, which would indeed be less than pleasant. But, back to the outfit. It had to be gentlemanly, and yet seaworthy. He wasn't going to have his men think he was some landlubber lord thinking he could tag along and take all the treasure. No, Arthur looked up to the likes of Sir Francis Drake and Sir Henry Morgan, both excellent privateers who ruled their ship with an iron fist and served their nation (whilst enriching themselves).

After he settled on an outfit with a dashing red coat (it would hide the blood spatters easily), Arthur set off finding a ship and a crew. That wouldn't be too hard, after all, he certainly had enough gold pieces, and the assurance that his band of privateers, not pirates, would be welcomed home after all the carousing and plundering. After all, what could be more patriotic than beating up the French and Spanish?

If things went well, Arthur would be rich. If things didn't go so well, he would probably be torn apart by grapeshot, what a lovely thought.

[Guest]

Maybe it was that London, so rich in history on land so ancient and storied, was so vastly different than bustling little Boston on the bay; but Alfred was more disheartened than he'd been since Queen Anne had started her little party in North America. At least then he'd had a steady source of employment, though the Indian attacks from the west and the damned French from the north had given him plenty of cause for concern.

But he'd had something to do, at least, and he'd emerged unscathed save for minor injuries. And now that the war had come to an end, Alfred Jones - who had enjoyed a busy if hard life aboard a New England fishing vessel before being press-ganged onto a British sloop - had received his final handful of coins and a dismissive farewell.

Which meant that until further notice he was stranded in London, his resources dwindling and his tolerance of the smoky, thick-aired city shrinking along with his coin.

Shifting his satchel over his shoulder, Alfred wrinkled his nose as he passed a particularly aromatic fishwife - god, Alfred hoped that was the fish and not the woman - and raked a hand through his blond hair in an effort to get the mussed locks presentable. If he'd just had enough to buy passage back home...

Which was why he'd jumped at the news that had gone around the boarding-house, something about one Lord Kirkland outfitting a privateer to wreck havoc among the Spanish and the French. Well, Alfred knew his way above- and below-deck, and he was still harboring a grudge against the Gauls for their treatment of the colonies; while he didn't have any personal feelings for the Spanish one way or another, Alfred was a loyal scion of the Empire so he was willing to dislike them on principle.

Even if it didn't go so well and the captain was more English admiral than colonial fisherman, Alfred was confident that he could still jump ship anywhere along the route and be that much closer to Massachusetts.

After all, there were still hawks chasing merchant ships up and down the North-American Eastern Seaboard; it was just that he might have to do a tour or so 'round the Indian sea before he got it there.

Boots splattered with the mud of London's uneven backstreets, Alfred tilted his head back and let blue eyes roam across the ship at anchor.

'Hopefully,' he thought, making his way up the gangplank, 'the Captain doesn't mind colonials.'


((OOC: Also, I <3 the title of this thread. Also, lolz. <3))

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

Lord Arthur Kirkland was a very impatient man. While he didn't expect a crew to suddenly appear shortly after his acquisition of a ship and necessary materials, Lord Kirkland did not like waiting. He quickly found himself pacing the decks of his new ship, a schooner that he had christened "Royal Fortune". She was a lovely ship, and Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't already grown fond of her. Though, the ship had yet to prove herself in battle, so Lord, and soon to be Captain, Kirkland had to try not to get too attached, lest the ship turn out to be faulty and send him and his men to a watery grave, providing the men would show up. More often than not, Arthur found his sentimentality to be quite the handicap, and thus to be kept a secret.

His pacing suddenly stopped when he heard another set of footsteps approaching. Another crewmember? Hopefully that would be the case, though the young lord had managed to scrounge up some men, the amount of crewmembers was still too few for a voyage. After all, with the future battles and various diseases such as scurvy, dysentery, and the like, Lord Kirkland needed every man he could get.

The newcomer happened to be a young man, though obviously more of a sailor than the various street urchins who had tried to filch Arthur's purse. Lord Kirkland observed the young man a bit more as he approached, seeing what he could gather from the lad's appearance. Not much, unfortunately, but enough to tell him that the other man could be of use. He'd just have to converse with the commoner, since the worst that could come of it was that he'd gain a new cabin boy. Frankly, that seemed like the most viable option, after all, Arthur was still a nobleman who needed his servants. Otherwise, he'd just turn the young man out so he could scrounge on the streets like the other street rats. Arthur had to admit a distaste for such commoners.

"Ahoy there, lad! What brings you to this ship?"

[Guest]

Alfred started slightly at that, eyes lifting from where they'd been examining the seams of the plankwood-shod deck, testing the caulking and evaluating the ship for seaworthiness. It certainly cut a fine figure in the harbor, floating there with sails as rest, but he'd seen pretty ships before who couldn't make it out of a crescent bay-- If this was supposed to get him back home, it had better be able to make the trip.

So far he'd liked what he'd seen, but it would be impossible to tell without a look belowdeck.

Upon being addressed, Alfred drew himself up into the straight-backed posture that had been drilled into him during the war, head dutifully lowered in respect. Ignoring the blond strands that fell into his face - somewhat longer than a soldier's but shorter than the average man's, a tell-tale mark of the recent sailor - Alfred promptly replied "Devotion to the Empire and a hatred of the damnable French, Captain."

A pause, as Alfred risked a blue-eyed glance at the green-eyed man who was obviously in charge; the brilliant crimson was hard to miss, and only an officer or a lord would be willing to make himself such a target on deck. He hoped he'd used the right title; some nobles insisted on their noble title even on the sea.

After a moment or two, Alfred truthfully added "I'm hoping to get back to the American colonies at some point in the future; t'would be a blessing if I could return with something more in my pockets than that I left with.

"I heard tell you were looking for a few men to round out the crew-- If it's so, Captain, I'm your man."

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

The young man had respect and a good hatred of the French, the damnable French no less, Arthur quite liked that. A colonial? Odd, but certainly not unwelcome to Arthur. Hopefully this colonial would prove a useful hand on his ship. Otherwise, Arthur would leave him in London, he didn't want to waste the food, after all. When the young man finally looked up, Arthur smirked, after all, he had to make sure the other could handle all of Arthur's... eccentricities.

"So you think you're worthy to join my crew? Well then, I'll need to know your name and any skills you have. Once that has been established, we'll see what we can do with you, and what lay you'll receive."

Lord Arthur walked around the young man, examining him from head to toe. The colonial looked strong, tan, and definitely had spent time sailing, all good things from Arthur's perspective. Not to mention, the lad had excellent posture and knew when to bow his head to superiors. Arthur had to resist the urge to poke and prod at the boy; it certainly wouldn't be proper for a noble like him to touch a commoner. Plus, Arthur would rather not get his hands dirty.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Lord Arthur Kirkland, though perhaps the correct title would be Captain Kirkland now. I suggest you take care to remember my name, though you needn't call me Captain Kirkland all the time. Lord, or Captain will do just fine. Now then, onto other important details. How much experience with ships do you have? Do you have any skills with cooking or carpentry? Or is there something else you can manage to do?"

Arthur glared intensely at the young man, hoping to catch any lie that might slip through the other's lips. After all, there was the adage that one couldn't trust commoners, though Arthur tended to take it a step further and say that one couldn't trust anyone. It was much safer that way, in his opinion. If he was always expecting lies and betrayal, then it wouldn't be nearly as much of an unpleasant surprise when the inevitable did occur.

[Guest]

Careful to hold his ramrod-straight posture - he'd have time to relax later, if and when he was out of the Captain's sight - Alfred maintained his balance without a conscious effort as the harbor's small waves set the ship to gently rolling; it hadn't been so long that he'd need to earn his sea-legs all over again. Instead, Alfred focused on retaining the respectful tone more common among British naval vessels than aboard the trawlers he'd grown up on, rendering his credentials in the distinctive clipped drawl of the northern American colonies.

"Grew up in Boston, m'lord, of Massachusetts colony-- We all made a living off the sea one way or another, as I'm sure your Lordship knows. My father owned a fishing trawler, which he put me to work on soon as I could stay upright on sea; halibut and cod, so we were out for most of the seasons. Cut my teeth on a winter squall that blew us clear down to Virginia's Jamestown, which was my first experience with a storm at sea but unfortunately not the last.

"When the war of Her Majesty, Queen Anne, broke out on the American continent, I volunteered in order to support British dominion over the Gauls; my reasoning, I'm sorry to say, was not completely patriotic. I had... family... in the northern colonies, which were decimated by savages paid with French gold." Alfred didn't pause in his retelling of the past, but his eyes momentarily darkened-- Surely just the recollection of loss, and at any rate nothing he cared to detail.

"At any rate, I found myself aboard the H.M.S. Dame Fortuna, during which I boarded three separate vessels - all French - and was in Toulon when the French fleet burned at their moorings. I had little to do with it, of course-- The credit goes to the valiant admiral who ordered the attack. I was only one of many with the torches.

"And that brings me here, Captain. Though I've most often served as mate and rigger, I have training as a shipboard carpenter and experience in seaborne navigation-- I would dare cook only for myself, as my skills in that area are rudimentary at best."

Another pause. It felt odd to keep himself from smiling, to stifle the natural laugh that would have accompanied his last words, but a somber face seemed to receive better welcome from the Englishmen he'd met thus far. ... The reputable ones, at any rate.

"Wherever work m'lord chooses to put me to, I will complete to the best of my abilities. I ask only the chance to earn my keep."

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

Lord Arthur listened intently to the other's story, evaluating it as much as he could. The young man didn't seem to be lying, and if he was, the lack of experience would be evident, and would probably not survive for very long. Then again, Arthur didn't have much experience when it came to ships. Sure, Arthur could hold himself in a fight, but that was quite a different matter than surviving a violent storm without being swept overboard. One couldn't use speed or brute force against nature, when it came down to it, the only thing between Arthur and a watery grave was luck, and hopefully lots of it.

"Alright then, Jones, I'll let you on this voyage with a decent share. As for your role, do you believe you could handle being Boatswain? If you prove yourself unworthy, you'll be the cabin boy. However, if you prove yourself more than capable, I will not be disinclined to promote you, perhaps even to first mate. I will need capable men, and I hope you will be one of them."

Arthur hoped his decision would prove to be the right one, after all, it might mean the difference between life and death when it came to Arthur and the crew, so everything had to go well.

"If you have any issues, address the first mate before talking to me. I'd rather not bother with useless nonsense. As for your quarters, they're below the deck with all the other men. Do not enter the Captain's quarters unless I give you permission, however, I doubt that such an event will occur during this voyage. Again, provided that you're competent, you shall earn your keep and get back to your home in due time. Though if you're too good, I'll be loathe to rid myself of you." Arthur chuckled a bit at the last comment he made.

Arthur smirked a bit before leaning in close, trying to intimidate the taller man and emphasize the seriousness of the situation. "Does this arrangement seem fair to you, lad?"

(( So sorry this is late, I had an exam, and it ate up my time. orz ))

[Guest]

"Ah-- Very fair, sir!"

The faint stammer was present, no matter how hard Alfred tried to pretend that it hadn't been; caught up in his own thoughts, and assuming that the English love of protocol (and personal space) would hold no surprises for him, Alfred had been caught off-guard at the Captain's sudden step forward. His hastily-assembled thoughts consisted of several jumbled impressions - his eyes are very green and his eyebrows are kind of and he's not that much taller than me, maybe his boots... ? - and he hastened to clear them from his head; they were definitely not appropriate, all things considered.

The dynamics, Alfred had previously discovered, were very different from what he'd been used to back on the New England schooners; he might become friends with the common crewmen, but he'd been advised against attracting the attention of the officers for better or for ill. Boatswain he could handle well enough, he was certain... But better to think of Lord Kirkland as exactly that, the distant figure of an English lord who was now his Captain, rather than as a somewhat slight human being with almost paradoxical brows and almost startlingly vivid eyes.

To Alfred's credit he did remain mostly still regardless of proximity, though he did tense almost imperceptibly in response. Cursing himself for his slip, Alfred felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment and hoped the Captain would miss the faint rouge against Alfred's sun-swept tan. Kit bag at his feet, Alfred quickly ventured, "Permission to go belowdecks and conference with the first mate, Captain?"


(( Pshaw, you don't have to apologize for that! IRL comes first, obviously-- Good wishes your way, BTW. ^_~ ))

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

It was hard not to notice that the other was startled by his sudden step forward. The new Boatswain was obviously flustered by his proximity. Lord Arthur guessed that he was used to nobles and officers ignoring his presence. While that was often a good strategy in Arthur's opinion, he knew he had to make sure that his men knew who was in charge, and the only way was to intimidate them, not ignore them. However, Arthur had to admit a certain fondness for flustering poor Alfred, though he reminded himself it was for business purposes only. A noble like him should have nothing to do with simple commoners.

Arthur examined the other once more. Alfred was tanned, though a blush upon the other's cheeks was quite visible from where Arthur stood. The young man seemed to be fit and (aggravatingly) a bit larger than Arthur. Lord Arthur had to scold himself, he was not to think of his crew on human terms. Yes, he was supposed to make sure their needs were taken care of, but they were servants, and his underlings. Nevertheless, Lord Arthur did admit that perhaps a good past time would be to see if he can get this young American flustered. But that was only if things proved dull, after all, it was certainly going to be a long voyage and not every minute could be spent harassing the French and Spanish.

"Permission granted. He will show you around the ship and give you the necessary information. If there is trouble, report to him before reporting to me. I do not want to be disturbed unless it is a true emergency."

After all, Arthur had to fill out paperwork pertaining to his new boatswain. Though he was also looking forward to some lovely alone time with a good book. Hopefully there wouldn't be any troublemakers or disturbances...

(( =A= I got sick, so I'm sorry if the quality of my posts drops a bit. ))

[Guest]

"Of course, sir!" Snapping off a textbook mariner's salute - well, a little more quickly that protocol dictated he hold it, but still - Alfred scooped up his kit from the ship's deck and slung it across his back; it was relatively sparse on his own belongings, but had gained considerable weight since he'd shipped out with little more than the clothes on his back. Souvenirs and trophies, mostly...

"Ah... Thank you again, sir!"

Though his embarrassment still lingered, visible in the faint color still clinging to the curve of his cheeks, it was overcome with a significant relief: Things had gone much more smoothly than he'd dared to hope, and he was already optimistic about the adventure ahead. Thoughts of failure or hardship failed to cross his mind at all-- Others had chastised him for that trait, but Alfred had found that it cost nothing to think well of the future.

And surely his duties would keep him busy, so he probably wouldn't have to worry much about running into Captain Kirkland again. Alfred had to keep his mind on his tasks and on his duty, which would be much easier without the Captain at hand. The man, somehow, struck a chord in him...

But he'd also given Alfred a chance to get home, no matter if it was just practicality, so Alfred couldn't help but smile; a brilliant white crescent that, to Alfred's continued bewilderment, tended to elicit attention.

"I promise, I won't disappoint!"

And with that impulsive vow, Alfred spun on his heel and half dashed 'crossdeck, disappearing below as if eager to inspect the ship that would - for the next tour, at least - be his home.



(( Aw, don't worry about that-- Your posts are fine, and you need to concentrate on getting better! Your quality of post hasn't suffered, and quantity doesn't matter so long as the first part's there. X3 ))

[Lord Arthur Kirkland]

The young seaman seemed so joyous and energetic; it almost brought a smile to Arthur's face (key word being almost). Though the vow was rather surprising, the rest of the crew had seemed to just nod and move on, rather than promise him. Nobody had ever seemed so eager to please Arthur, it was... rather nice, he had to admit (but only to himself).

"I shall hold you to that promise, then."

Arthur watched Alfred run off, before turning his attention to other matters. With Alfred, his crew was full, so it was time to make sure things were set up. However, seeing as the first mate had to get Alfred set up and informed before checking the rest, Arthur decided to wait. After all, he could be a patient man, when it suited him- yelling at the first mate to get everything done would merely exacerbate things. So, Arthur retired to his quarters so he could rest and relax in privacy.

After a while, Arthur began to think himself insane. He couldn't get the image of the colonial sailor out of his head. It was embarrassing, to say the least. However- Arthur reused to let that bother him. A commoner had no right to be so intriguing! Lord Arthur rationalized that he was stressed out. This was his first voyage as captain, after all. He just had to sit down with a bottle of rum and a good book, and everything would be fine. So, that's exactly what Arthur did. Now all that was left was to wait. Then Arthur would give the orders to set sail the next day.

He just hoped nobody (other than the first mate) would bother him in his quarters.

[Sponsored content]