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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 22, 2013 22:48:45 GMT
Angel smmirked, turning to face James as she stretched and leant back against the side of his ship.
"I'm not sure you fully appreciate how little I plan for things, Captain," she said, her smirk broadening.
Her time on the ship had been good for her. Now her boots were worn in, there was dirt under her fingernails and her hair had fallen back into the ratty waves that she'd always been so fond of. Her skin was hardened by the salt in the air and the sunshine, and she was more like herself than she'd been in fifteen years. In fact, to the casual observer, she was that same Captain who had struck fear into so many hearts in the Caribbean and Spanish Main.
"Find the ship. Take the ship in an act of dashing wonder. Lament how the current Captain has let things go without my iron hand to rule. You know. Standard Captain stuff."
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Post by Taya on Apr 22, 2013 23:02:46 GMT
"And if the current captain objects?" James asked, his signature eyebrow raising as they dropped anchor in port. He moved on from the question knowing the wan he had gotten to know in the past weeks would do anything to get what was hers back. "I have business here in St. Domingue. You might want to ask after your ship." With that he walked away to oversee the final preparations for docking.
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 22, 2013 23:36:54 GMT
Angel sighed, watching as The Spirit docked and dropped the ramp, taking off quickly into Saint-Domingue, almost shivering in the familiarity in this tropical pirate's paradise. She walked the dusty streets; some different, some the same, until she'd wandered for long enough that she was again intimately familiar with the main of the island. Smiling to herself, she placed a hand on the hilt of her cutlass and pushed open the door to a tavern colourfully named The Cutthroat Inn.
The reaction Angel had expected in Liverpool greeted her here, in the home of seasoned pirates, in her formal dress, with her confident gaze. The pub's noise dulled to silence, several openly agape at her presence. The ghost of a former great. She strode forward, feeling pleased with herself but paying them no mind, resting one arm on the bar and glancing up at the balding man with an almost mortified expression.
"Maurice. Do I still have an open tab?" she asked, her trademark grin spreading across her face. Maurice chuckled, almost nervously, shaking his head.
"I don' keep open tabs for the dead. It defuncted to the ship an' was paid by the Captain Sharpe a long time ago."
A flicker of a frown crossed Angel's face, before she smiled.
"Then open a new one for me," she said, barely skipping a beat, and the barkeep shook his head good-naturedly, filling a small wooden tumbler with whiskey and pushing it down the bar as the tavern resumed its speech slowly.
"Speaking of my ship," she said, pointedly ignoring Maurice's raised eyebrow, "Do you know where she is?"
Maurice shook his head as she took a large gulp from her cup and winced accordingly.
"May come as a surprise to ye, Captain, but I don' usually keep tabs on me customers. I can tell ye they haven' been back 'ere for a bit. Hear they normally dock at Puerto. Better prices for trade an' all. This is more a retirement home, these days."
"You don't say."
Angel smirked and shook her head, whilst her heart raced with an excitement she tried to damp with whiskey. Puerto Rico. She was close, if they were here. And the concept made her shake. Downing the rest of the whiskey she slammed the cup back down and gave Maurice a genteel nod before standing.
"I'll see you again."
"Hold ye to it, Cap'n."
She smirked, shook her head and then left, hearing the bar erupt into noisy chatter as the door swung shut behind her. She rolled her eyes and made her way back towards the dock, her feet itching to be moving again.
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Post by Taya on Apr 22, 2013 23:50:27 GMT
One of the sailors met her there to inform her that Captain Blackwell was at Mrs. Staranne's shop and that he wished her to meet him there.
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"Good day, Captain Blackwell." The woman behind the counter said as he entered her spice shop.
"Mrs. Staranne." He said with a nod.
"You will one day tell me what troubles you so." The woman in her early forties said. She stepped into the back and set the kettle on.
"None, but the dead shall know." He said with a shake if his head.
"I'll send Johnny to fill your stores, Captain."
"Thank you, Elizabeth, but I'm looking for more than cargo. I'm looking for information."
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 0:13:02 GMT
Angel took the advice she was given and headed back into the town, glancing around until she caught sight of the small spice shop, pausing briefly and glancing around before she gently opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. Whereas she had walked into the tavern as if she owned it, here she tread carefully, as if not sure of her purpose as she glanced at James from behind.
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Post by Taya on Apr 23, 2013 0:23:14 GMT
"I'll help as best I ..." Elizabeth started to say, but was brought to silence by the woman that had just stepped into her shop. Her hand flew to her the locker around her neck.
James' eyebrow rose of its own accord as he observed the shop owner. He turned to see Angel and assumed Elizabeth was just shocked by the sight of Angel's appearance.
"Perfect timing." James said to Angel. "Mrs. Staranne, this my client I was asking for. It seems she has had some property stolen by some pirates and I was curious if any of your ships had been attacked recently and if you knew by whom." But Elizabeth just stared at Angel.
The shop owner had only seen her face once, but her introduction had been impossible not to remember. She had also questioned everyone at the ball about her. Her sister had been quite informative.
"I... I... Know you." she said shakily.
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 0:41:55 GMT
Angel's mouth hung open as she frowned deeply. She recognised Elizabeth's face, but from where? It stuck in her mind and her memory, and she tried to pull forth images that had lurked at the back of her mind for more than a decade. As the images arranged themselves and she raised her hand to her mouth to cover her sudden gasp.
She stepped forward a few times, keeping her eyes fixed on Elizabeth's with a strange expression on her face. This was the first person she'd encountered who knew her in relation to Jack, rather than her ship, and it left her shaky.
"Do you know where he is?" she asked without pretense in a quiet, desperate voice, almost forgetting James was in the room.
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Post by Taya on Apr 23, 2013 0:53:59 GMT
Disappointment flooded Elizabeth's face. She had been about to ask the same question. The woman he loved. The memory still hurt.
"No. But he lives?" She asked, needing to know.
"You ladies have met?" James asked.
"Once. a very long time ago." Elizabeth said.
"Mama" A boy about 12 with flaming red hair came in from the back room. "Your kettle's done."
"Thank you, Johnny. I need you to see that the Spirit gets her usual shipment." She told her son not taking her eyes from Angel. The boy paused because of the tension. "Now!" Elizabeth snapped and The boy ran to the back of the shop.
"This thing that's been stolen. Is it Johnathan?"
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 1:05:45 GMT
Angel glanced as the young boy left, biting her lip as the name rang significance.
"I..." she paused, still gnawing on her lip. "He captains a ship I own, somewhere out there."
She paused, knowing that suddenly everything she said had a second level of significance, but also aware that Elizabeth seemed as desperate for information as she was.
"He goes by Sharpe now. A ship that likely travels with a child on the crew. Do you know it?"
She tried to keep her voice even, but failed.
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Post by Taya on Apr 23, 2013 1:42:46 GMT
"A child..." Elizabeth said softly. Her heart hurt the same way it had those years ago. So she had married. A good man, but died in a fire shortly after their son had been born. But she had kept the locket. The one Johnathan had given her the day of their betrothal. She thought about having heard the name Sharpe and never knowing it was him. Choking back a sob, Elizabeth said, "A captain by that named raided my last shipment to Puerto Rico."
She looked Angel in the eyes trying to understand why they were no longer together. With trembling hands she reached up to undo the clasp behind her neck, but she seemed to be having trouble. James stepped behind the counter, undid the locket for her and Elizabeth nodded her thanks.
"There was a young girl aboard according to the two men who survived. Give this to.... Johnathan" She had been about to say my Johnathan, but he was never hers. He always belonged to sea. "If she is... His. He should give this to her. Not me." Elizabeth held out the locket to Angel. "It belonged to his mother. She died when he was a child. Drowned. I always wondered if it was her calling him ever away."
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 1:53:14 GMT
Angel pursed her lips, extending a shaking hand and taking the locket from Elizabeth, clasping her hand around it and and drawing it back to herself, trying to regain herself and steeling herself for the possibility of James questioning her motives the moment they left the shop.
"My sources also said Puerto Rico," she said, in a more steady voice, glancing to James for the first time since she entered the little shop.
"How long ago was your last shipment?" she asked, turning back to Elizabeth, her voice softening slightly.
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Post by Taya on Apr 23, 2013 1:59:41 GMT
"About a month. I... I need you to leave, please." Elizabeth said trying not let her voice crack. The tears would fight their way through soon enough and she did not want to cry in front of them.
"Of course, Mrs. Staranne." James said holding the shop door open for Angel.
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 2:03:44 GMT
Angel nodded mutely, bowing her head and turning to leave.
"Thank you," she said, looking over her shoulder, before leaving through the open door and wrapping her fingers tighter around the locket she held.
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Post by Taya on Apr 23, 2013 2:09:17 GMT
"That was interesting." James commented, but didn't ask and didn't say another word until he reached the ship. "We sail on the evening tide. Get the goods loaded or you stay here with them." He shouted to his crew.
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Post by Mr Spock on Apr 23, 2013 2:18:04 GMT
Angel sighed, glancing around as the crew moved before ducking away from the deck and into the body of the ship, heading for the small cabin she kept her effects in, shutting the door behind her and sighing as she opened her fist and glanced at the locket.
She shook her head, looking up suddenly. It would do her no good to dwell on sentiment right now. It was of no use in this instance. Not yet.
She reached under the bunk and drew out the small, plain box, opening it and placing the locket gently in, giving the rest of it only a cursory glance, sighting slips of paper and other small ornaments, before closing the lid and sliding it back.
She was not here to mourn a past. She was here to reclaim it. Setting her jaw into a determined grit, she pushed herself to her feet and went back out onto the deck.
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