On Stormy Seas [open for the crew of the Black Rose]

((At Matthew's suggestion, I agreed that it would be a good idea to make an open thread for the Black Rose's crew~ This takes place after both Matthew and Gilbert are already on the ship, and before Alfred is taken. Any other questions can be directed to your Captain via PM~ ^^/ ))



Captain Arthur Kirkland stood on the bow of his ship, gazing boredly at the white-capped sea that seemed to mock him with its eternity. A glance at the clouded sky told him a storm was brewing, and he quickly barked an order to his crew to batten hatches and tie the sails lest his mast be destroyed by a wild gust. The Black Rose was a strong sea-bird, but even she wouldn't stand up to the wicked sea-winds of the Atlantic's storms unless they played it safe and made use of every hand to ensure her weathering the gale. It'd been awhile since they'd last hit land, after all, and awhile till they would again. Sinking out in the middle of the ocean was simply not an option, especially when many of Arthur's men couldn't swim, including (though he outright refused to admit it) the Captain himself.

He strode to the fo'c's'le, taking hold of the polished brass spyglass kept there, and held it to his eye. Ahh, yes. Storm clouds indeed, nigh two degrees off starboard bow. "Two marks off starboard bow!" he shouted, and distantly heard it repeated towards the stern. The sails would need to be tied; with the storm so close, there was no time to sail around it, and they couldn't risk being blown back or worse, having their mast broken. Blasted weather. But his crew had been through many a storm, and most had survived. Arthur had confidence in his crew to pass through this one mostly unscathed. He was surprised the man in the crow's nest hadn't spotted it first, but a glance upward told him the man was nowhere to be found. Lazy arse.

A voice regained his attention deckward, and Kirkland turned to look at the crewman who had called his name. The boy was scrawny, but spry, and the Captain barked at him to secure leaks in the hold; they didn't want anything springing open during the squall. The young man nodded and ran off below deck. Arthur watched him go for a moment, then returned his attention to the dark clouds moving in. He braced himself, and seemed to count... then all at once, the skies opened and steely rain slashed through the sky to shoot the deck.



((This text is recycled with a few changes from an old rp I was in.... It is mine, though.))

Matthew always hated storms. They were bad enough on the land but on ship, it was pure torture and he could never, ever understand how some people found them exciting and claimed that sailing on the stormy, rough sea was the true essence of real piracy, battling against nature, laughing in her face as you emerge victorious from each and every peril...

If this was the true essence of piracy, Matthew was not impressed.

Currently, the ship was swaying roughly, tossing him around in his tiny cabin, scattering old maps, all of his equipment and generally making a giant mess out of everything. Water was sneaking in through under the door and through the small cracks in the wooden walls and he long ago gave up trying to block it; it was useless. He stacked whatever he could as far away from the water as possible, the precious maps very fragile (ink and paper were not very water-proof and with all the innovations in sailing, no one actually thought of updating that), going as far as to give them his bed and cover with blankets, tying it all with ropes and belts and clothes just so it would stay still.

He could hear the captain barking orders to change navigation and groaned. It was hard enough to keep up with navigating with the winds tossing the ship all around, he didnt need people messing with it. And who would take the blame if things went wrong? He would, of course. 'Oh, Navigator, we were supposed to hit land two days ago, whats up?', 'Oh, navigator, this isnt the island we were looking for'.

The box with his navigation equipment fell off the shelf, the contents spilling all over him and Matthew stood up, annoyed, swaying towards the door. He was useless on the deck but by Dieu, at least he would let the arrogant arse of a captain know if he was going to change the course like that, he could navigate himself. "No, not two marks off!" he yelled, marching towards the figure with the largest hat. "We're not supposed to go two marks off! I told you we need to stay on the course!"


(( Since Al left, Im just gonna ignore the post above ^^"