A New Arrival 0109.30

Crowe says to the visitor he finds on the ship, "So, tell me about yourself, Charlamagne..." Crowe then sits down on a barrel and begins to fill a small pipe.

Charlamange sits down on a barrel across from you, "It begins a long time ago. My father was a mid ranking noblemen, or so I was told. My mother was into magic, but was cast out of her mage family due to her practicing of the black arts. After a time, to support herself, she became a whore. She would enchant men she met, have sex with them, and rob them."

Charlamange pauses, then says, "She got pregnant with me quite unexpectedly. She died in child-birth, I was cared for by my aunt until I was 3 months. My mother's family was killed in a raid when I was a few months old. I lived with gypsies until they sold me to a pair of brothers when I was five for two sheep and a barrel of ale."

Charlamange brushes his hair back over his shoulder, revealing the scar on the side of his neck, "Those were hard times...one brother was a tutor, he taught some of the warrior's children how to read and write. The other brother, he was a blacksmith, a weapons maker. He was harsh. This scar was my 16th birthday present."

Charlamange says, "I learned to read and write from the tutor, and how to forge weapons from the smith. I was still treated like an animal, and they would let the local warriors have their way sexually with me for a few pennies or a trade of ale."

Charlamange says, "When I was 18, I was finally big and strong enough to fight against the abuse. I took the brothers by surprise, tied them up, stole what I could, and took over."

Charlamange says, "And, I've been on my own since."

Charlamange withdraws a small silver flask from his vestments, and takes a quick swig, offering you some, "It's imported."

Crowe looks up at you with a sad expression, "It sounds like no one on this ship has had a pleasant past..." he muses, looking out over the sea. His mind flashes briefly on the night of his "Initiation" as you mention the sexual abuse. He recalls well what, and how you did him. He does not speak of it however. He looks back over at you as you offer the flask. Cautiously, he takes if from you, giving it a sniff before taking a sip.

Charlamange laughs quietly, "I'm not going to poison you. It's just some aged rum. I developed a taste for it when I was on the northern coast."

Crowe flickers a gaze at you, a soft one, and sips at the rum. It takes bitter and burns, but not as bad as the stuff the Captain fed him last night. He takes a second sip, then hands the flask back to you. "I am still getting used to the drink of humans..." he says without attitude or accusation. "It is quite new to me." he says softly.

Charlamange takes a long pull off the flask, and then slips it back within his clothing, "I'm still getting used to what being around humans in general is like. I lived in the forest for a while. I learned some survival and tracking skills. Granted, not too useful on a ship..." He pauses, looking you over once or twice, "...so whats your 'speciality?'"

Crowe looks at you, lifing a delicate red eyebrow. "Specialty?" he asks quietly. "I am not sure what you mean..." he replies, lighting his pipe with a match, and taking a puff on it, to get it started.

Charlamange says, "Your skill. For example... I learnt the art of repairing and using weapons quite well. Some of the knights that would sodomize me on a regular basis would teach me how to duel with swords, or aiming a crossbow..." He pats the blades tucked into his vest, "I prefer my daggers myself - but I've been known to carry a sword at times."

Crowe KNOWS his current specialty, but it is not one he wishes to brag about, so he falls back on what the Captain tells him he is good at besides behind Quarter Doors. "I am a thief." he says simply, not sounding particularly proud of the fact. "I am swift, and silent and good at tracking." he says pulling on his pipe, then offering it to you. "Have a try?"

Charlamange reaches for it, and gives it a whiff, "No magic elf tobacco in here?"

Crowe grins, a rare thing for him, "No... but it will give you a..." he pauses, looking for the word. "A buzziness in your head. I got it from a Eastern Trader in the last port we were in. He called it Opium.." he says.

Charlamange ahs, "It has been a while since I have tried this..." He slips the slender shaft of the pipe between his red lips, and closes his eyes as he inhales deeply, then puffs out, "Mmmm... quite mellow. So, you're a thief? Well, I'm an ok tracker, but not all that stealthy. I try to make up for it by being limber..." He chuckles a bit, then draws more on the pipe, before handing it back to you, "So what is the captain like? Do you think I'll be able to join the crew?"

Bullet comes up the ladder from Below Deck.

Crowe looks up as the Captain arrives, and a look of concern crosses his face. He hops to his feet, "Captain on Deck!" he announces.

Charlamange hops off the barrel and stands, brushing himself off idly.

Crowe was sitting on a barrel smoking his small pipe it seems, the scent of opium in the air.

Bullet comes to the top side, still rubbing the speed bumps out of his eyes. He's looking very groggy, and even more haphazardly put together than usual. He pulls his coat over himself tightly after finishing washing the sleep out of his eye. "At ease gentleman.." He's still not completely aware of what's going on.

Crowe steps up in front of the Captain, offering a soft smile. "Captain, we have a ... guest here on decks. Mr Charlamange is here to speak with you." he says quietly, indicating the new arrival on the deck near him. "I was just coming down to get you." he offers.

Bullet nods at Crowe, and says in a mocking tone, "I'm sure you were." He looks pver Charlamange, sort of gauging him as if he were about to start a brawl. He then comes to a fix upon Charlamange's eyes, staring right through him as he speaks, "What brings you onto my ship?" He asks, in a not totally friendly tone.

Crowe nods to the Captain and with a last look at the new comer, goes to stand slightly behind Bullet, trying to be as invisible as possible.

Charlamange draws his hair back over his shoulder, nonchalantly revealing the faded yet prominent scar that runs along his neck, and places a hand upon the hilt of his daggers, fingering it lovingly, "Captain Bullet, I am seeking employment in your service. I have knowledge and information that may aid you and your crew in successfully endeavors on land and sea, in the practice of piracy and pillaging. In return for my array of services, which include but are not limited to: weapons expertise, dealing with explosives, murder, assisination, brawling and general skull duggary, I will require a direct share of all rewards and profits taken, as well as a position of first or second mate." He smiles in a comely fashion, as if discussing the weather, or cooking.

Crowe looks no less than gobsmacked at that last commment made by the new arrival, and a smirk crosses his slim face. Mr Blood is currently the first mate, and he would like nothing more than to see him ousted from that position. This could get good...

Bullet places his hand on his chin and grins, "Well well.. this is certainly something interesting to wake up to. Services eh? What makes you think I don't have people that are willing to do that for me already, for less than what you require? Why would I want a tall pasty waif like you on my ship that's demanding a percentage, when I already have others that are privilaged to simply do business around me, let alone get a percentage.." Bullet doesn't seem to care for this fellows approach to him, but his mind is racing, thinking about what sort of cold-hearted fellow this man could be. Such a _killer_. And he has the gall to come up to me in such a way!

Crowe looks back an forth between the two men, trying to guage the Captain's mood. He is obviously distracted from any intent of anger or malice towards him this morning, and for that he is quite thankful.

Charlamange steps closer to the Captain, withdrawing a dagger in a fluid motion from its sheath. You think it may be an assault at the sudden and deliberate movements he makes, but he is holding the weapon by its blade, offering the end of for the Captain to view, "A handle carved of ebony, adorned with a single perfect sapphire, Captain. Could such a pasty waif as myself, if I were as weak and puffed up as you think, come across such a treasure of a weapon by simply stealing it?" He gestures, offering the dagger to the Captain, "You may have a good crew, Captain - those who fear you and must be in your service. I offer you my loyalty, and my services, but not my fear, Captain." The last word seems to be said in a rather disrespectfull manner, as it seems almost spat out.

Crowe tenses as the dagger is drawn, his first urge to defend his Captain with his very life! When the action is not followed through with an attack, he is left to ponder the confusion of emotions inside of him now. Why? Why would he want to SAVE that bastard??? He moves back a step or two, sliding down to sit against the main mast, and looks down at the deck, lost in thought.

Bullet seems to have an odd little 'accidental' yawn as he is shown the knife. He speaks, words dripping with sarcasm says, "Oh I'm sorry, I must still be tired, it's a very lovely knife. I'd like to show you something now if that's alright." He quickly reaches to his belt and pulls out a small, jet black, black powder pistol. And points it right in between Charlamange's eyes. "As I was saying, it's a very nice knife, but what it's made of won't help you out if your lying with your brains on the deck of my ship. I'll take your loyalty, and your services, and I'll see about putting some fear in you, how about that?" Is this a test? The captain has a very disturbing calmness about him. It's too early for this mess, but he seems to be waiting with his finger on the trigger for Charlamange's next move.

Crowe senses the Captain's intent as he makes the draw on his pistol and looks up, he sees him holding the flintlock aimed at the skull of the new comer, and he trembles. He's been there before. Quick to anger, quick to punish. Such is the ways of Captain Bullet. His reputation as a cold blooded killer is well earned. Crowe watches Charlamange for his reaction as well as a shiver courses through his thing frame, and for once, it is not from the wind blowing through his thready clothing.

Charlamange closes one eye, squinting at the Captain, and starts to speak in an even tone, "My adopted father used to allow older men in our village to sodomize me when I was 12 years old, for 5 silver pieces or a pint of ale. One of them, a doctor, told me that when people are killed suddenly, their muscles contract and their bodies flail. So, when you pull that trigger, and end my live, my right hand, with my other dagger, will jerk and flail." He casts his eyes downward briefly, then back up at you, "It won't kill you, surely...but considering it will most likely embed itself below your waist, deep into the area between your legs... Well you tell me, Captain Bullet, is it better to die without a head, or live without your manhood?"

Crowe lets out an audible gasp as Charlamagne makes his threat on the Captain. He glances around, and sees no other crew members to come to the aid of the Captain. He slowly rises to his feet and approaches the two, he is not sure what he is going to do, or even WHY.

Bullet's grin disappears. This a very serious threat, and something that he has seen before. He doesn't like to kill at point blank normally, it's too messy, even for his likes. (Thankfully, he has others normally do it for him.) He removes his finger from the trigger, and moves his thumb to unhook the flintlock back to a resting position. He pulls the gun away from Charlamange, he's passed a test with flying colors. He didn't beg for mercy, he looked death fairly close in the eye, and didn't flinch. "Second mate. You'll get a percentage only smaller than my own, and my first mate BlackBloods..."

Crowe looks GREATLY releived at the outcome of this confrontation, and breathes a sigh of relief. He looks up at the Captain, seeing if he has any instructions for him now, then he turns, hearing boots on the ladder. He sighs as he sees the form of Mr. Blood coming on deck from below.

BlackBlood arrives indeed.. along with a tired yawn. Watch out, even looking like this he's quite alert. He might just be even more dangerous when he's tired.. and probably twice as dangerous when he's bored. He might ave figured out an effective kidnapping plan by now!

Bullet is busy placing his gun back in his holster, "Ah, BlackBlood, I'd like to introduce you to your new assistant.. of sorts. Charlamange..." Once the gun is in his holster, he reaches up, places his hand on his chin and pushes. His neck making three loud cracking noises. "Ahh, he is taking Mr. Bastian's place as second hand, due to Mr. Bastian's recent troubles with the royal guard." A named name, perhaps he may have had something to do with the break ins, of course, he may have known that all along. "I want him along on the upcoming 'mission' I'm sure he will prove most useful."

Turning to survey the new arrival with cold and calculating eyes, Charlamagne looks over the "boy" playing the role of First Mate. His gave moves from the Boy to the Elf, then back again. First Mate is right, he thinks to himself, no doubt the young flesh on this boat works harder behind closed doors than on murders and missions. "Charlamange," he says in a deep, commanding voice to the First Mate. He does not offer a hand or sign of respect with the greeting.

BlackBlood isn't that impressed. What is THAT? A newbie thinking he's a bigshot already? Sheesh... "BlackBlood" he returns in an equal tone to the one supposed to help him in the kidnappings. Well, 'help' is more like 'obey'. Of course Mister Blood doesn't soil his hands! Why can he get this privilege? Because he soiled them a lot in the past. His voice isn't as deep as the other's, but some people might expect a lighter, more high-pitched voice for one so young.

Crowe looks up at the three men, and sniffs, only he can smell all the male tostesterone in the air, and it nauseates him. He turns, and makes his way to go below decks, nothing good can come of staying around here for very long.

Bullet turns around as BlackBlood and Charlemange are busy sniffing each other out. He spots Crowe, the one who he thinks brought Charlemange on. "Crowe! I believe I need to have a few words with you about your choice of bringing people onto my ship..." He immedietely begins walking down towards Crowe. He is very happy with his new second mate, and the potential he has. However, he is not too thrilled about having been in a position where he may have lost his means of sexual pleasure, and guess who he's going to hold resposible for that one?

The new second mate gives a passing glance to the Elf as he is corraled by the Captain. Nice kid, probably going to get flogged or worse for something or other. Well, it is not his fight, so he turns to Mr Blood, and says, "I will return presently with my gear. I only need to collect it from the Inn," and with a sharp turn, he heads toward the gangplank.

Crowe freezes in mid step, turning to look at the Captain with wide, worried eyes. "Y-yes Captain?" he asks quietly, pausing at the top of the stairs leading below decks.

BlackBlood silently sizes the other out.. He could be a definite threat to his position. It doesn't look that good. One good thing: he's the one in the best position now. Besides, if that, Charmawhatchamacallit guy fails to carry out the plan, he will not be held responsible. His plan works. The only failure will come from those who are supposed to carry it out.

Bullet has his fists balled up at his side, his knuckles are bright white. He walks right up to Crowe and stops directly three inches in front of him. He looks down at Crowe with eyes that are not those of someone who's rejoicing. He speaks in a very quiet tone, but he doesn't seem very able to sound calm, he's obviously having to restrain himself from yelling. "I understand you are not the brightest person I've ever known... you seem to lack the common sense that god gave rocks. If there is one thing I do not like, it is being threated. And what's even worse, is being threated to have a knife shoved in my crotch by someone you were responsible for brining onboard" There's a rage in him that's growing very intensely and quickly now, and it's not going to go away easily. He seemed in control of himself as he walked up, but it's slipping away.

Crowe looks up at you eyes wide, and entire body trembling. He brings his hands up in front of him in a pleading manner. "C-captain, please! I didn't let him on! He was on deck when I came up. Honest Captain! I would never allow anyone on deck that was not part of the crew. You KNOW that Captain." he says in a rush. "I just came up here and here he was. I wasn't on watch this morning Captain!" he says, panic in his voice.

BlackBlood rolls his eyes. He really doesn't like that Charles guy's fashion sense. Quite awful..The attitude needs a fix as well. He might just take a while to see the new man's good points.. if he has any.On the bright side, he's another one to put up in the list of those who will carry out his genial plan! He could do kidnappings. He is still up for it and knows he has every and any ability for it.. except that he's not going to risk anything if there's no need for it. The captain needs him on board at all times should anything happen. From now on, he might just have to be extra careful about getting back stabbed...

Bullet really appears to be trying hard to restain himself. He looks as though he's trembiling in anger, "If it weren't for your mission tonight, I would whip you until you could na'ery walk for days you little ungrateful bastard." Crowe's pleas once again fall on deaf ears, they often do. It is a good thing about his mission though, the punishment for an infraction such as this could have lasted for days, and who knows, it could still happen when he gets back. "I didn't see you coming for that knife he had on him either, so it makes you just as guilty. You didn't protect your captain. You didn't protect your savior." Bullet pushes Crowe against a wall and grabs the cloth covering his chest, bunching it up in his fist, he pulls Crowe up against the wall by it. He definately means business.

Crowe lets out a surprised cry as you grab him and slam him hard against the side of the ship. He hears something crack, and cries out a second time. His heart pounds in his chest, and he tries to reason with the unreasonable force holding his life in his hands. "C-captain... please... I was right there, you know I wouldn't have let anything happen to you!" he says in a sob. "I never doubted you could handle the curr, you would have been furious if I would have stepped into your fight.." he cries. "I was there to back you Captain, but you were holding your own.." he says miserably.

BlackBlood glances over at the happenings nearby and shrugs. Seems that.. kid screwed up again. Ah well, good for him to get slapped around once or twice a day!

Bullet lets Crowe down off his feet, for a moment it looks as though he believed him. But in a very swift motion, a learned action, pulled in many cheap fights in bars, and on people trying to pull a fast one on Bullet, he punches Crowe in his right side, right above his hip, right atop his kidney. A very cheap, cruel, and most of all very painful blow. His calm voice is gone, his restraint is gone, "YOU LIE LIKE THE FUCKING COWARD YOU ARE!" He yells at the top of his lungs almost right into Crowe's ears. Bullet takes a long very deep breath, turns around and begins walking back toward BlackBlood.

BlackBlood cringes at the yell and grimaces at the hit. He has a bad memory of being dealt some of those a few times over the course of his pirate career until now. It did hurt like heck! Noticing the captain heading his way, he straightens and stands at the ready. Maybe the Captain's just heading towards the gangplank, but you can never be too sure!

Charlamange hops over the railing, a large pack slung over one shoulder. You notice he looks a bit more disheveled than when he left, and a few spatters of (presumably someone else's) blood on his shirt. Hoisting his pack, he looks around the upper deck, his glance pausing on Crowe before looking at the captain, "I've settled my business here. Where're my quarters?"

Crowe drops to the deck with a sickening "thud". He lands on his hands and knees, then slumps onto his side. He makes the most awful sound of pain, the Captain having no idea that Elf anatomy is different than Humans, and being a bit on the frail side of build, this blow was crippling. Crowe gasps for air, and closes his eyes. He is in such pain he cannot even cry. He instead curls up in fetal position, shuddering from the damage done.

Bullet doesn't even look back to see if Crowe gets up, he just continues walking straight for BlackBlood. He stops when Charlamange all of a sudden comes back onto the boat, and asks for his quarters. He went so quickly, and is already to go. Impressive. "They are downstairs, yours are right next to BlackBlood. Crowe will show them to you when he is able to get up." He goes back to his trip to see Mr. BlackBlood. He looks coldly over BlackBlood, having to seem to have had a massive mood swing, he no longer seems enraged, just calm. "I want to know how your preperations are going, who you have picked for what positions in your assignment, and I want to know what sort of expendiatures you think will occur versus our potential profits."

Charlamange nods to Bullet, and heads towards Crowe, his face impassive to Crowe's suffering. He taps Crowe with the toe of his boot, nudging him, "You awake there, pal?" He leans down, now that the captain is looking away, and lowers his voice, offering the wounded Crowe a small plant coverting. "...Here, chew on this...it'll ease your bleeding and aches..." then he raises his voice, "When you're done bleeding down there, I'd -like- to get set up. Every moment I stay packed is a moment I lose potentional booty."

Crowe somehow manages to rise to a sitting position on the deck, and with a sour expression, he spits out a mouthful of blood onto the deck in the general direction of Bullet and Blood. He looks over at Charlamagne, the expression the same, rising from hurt to hate. He takes hold of the plant, clutching it in his fist, and slowly rises to his feet. "This.... way..." he says in a hiss through clenched teeth. His left hand holds his right side, and he gingerly makes his way down to below the main deck.

BlackBlood taps his chin with a finger. "Hmm.. from what I calculated, our expenses shouldn't be that great. Only enough to feed those kids so they won't die.. also buy papers and ink for ransom letters.... Profits will be high indeed, even if we only ask for 5 crowns a head!" he laughs. "As for positions... I really want that new guy in here.. just to see his potential. RedSea can probably carry out the orders well. I'll need fast men, like..." he frowns and glances at the two over there, then shrugs and goes on, naming a few names.. just because the narrator's not imaginative enough to make up crew names.

Charlamange tosses his bag on the floor, "I don't get private lodgings? I knew I should have looked around the ship before the captain tried to toss his weight around." He gives a slight disapproving gaze and then looks over at you, "Crowe, why don't you take off your shirt? I can have a look at your wound."

Crowe leads you down the corridor, into the Crew's Quarters. "Here... it is..." he says between slow pants of breath. "Until the Captain.... says otherwise..." he says barely above a whisper. He is still holding his side, and turns to look at you, leaning against a wall for support. He looks pretty bad off. He listens to you bitch, then offer to help. Spitting blood onto the floor again, he shakes his head. "I don't need your help ..... or anyone elses..." he hisses, again in staggered breaths. He turns to leave you to settling in, he knows he will not be standing for long. In fact, he makes it to the doorway, and collapses.

Charlamange slips his arms around you and picks you up, carrying you carefully. "Thick headed elf..." he mutters, and puts you down on one of the beds. He pulls open your shirt, and runs a hand along your wound. Pausing, he goes to the wash basin and fills a cup with water, then snaps the plant he gave you, letting its liquid into the water. He splashes some on your side, and hovers the cup above your mouth, slapping your face lightly, "Wake up and drink this... it'll make you feel better."

Crowe does not move to drink or turn away. Either he is out cold, or lost the will to fight for getting better at this point. When you place the cup at his lips, he parts them, allowing your medicine to go down. His eyes remain closed, and his breathing is still rough and irregular.

Charlamange wipes your mouth with his sleeve, "I don't think beating a crewmen is a wise choice. Hurt men work poorly, dead men don't work at all. Bullet has a mean streak in him the size of the equator..." He runs his hand along your side, "You'll probably been in pain for another two days, but that medicine should help. I picked a host of those plants when I was hiding out in the forests of northern Europe." He pulls a rag from the ground and rinses it, then cleans the blood from your face and neck, "...can you hear me, Crowe?"

Crowe feels you hands on him a soft touch, and slowly his lips move. He only whispers, unable to speak, "Let.... me....DIE!" he says with all the strength he can muster. Around you, other members of the crew gather to gawk and heckle you and the fallen Elf. It seems NO one on this ship likes him or would admit to it. They laugh and cajole, making bets on how long he will last, how long til the new guy fucks him, and other such pleasantries.

Charlamange glares at the gawkers, and draws a dagger, standing tall and defiant, "Any of you care to end up in the same shape, by ALL means continue. You may be mercenaries, but that doesn't mean you need to take pleasure in a crew members injuries. On a raid, this man could save your life, or his thieving and stealth skills could garner us info that will prevent one of your sorry, clumsy asses from being sliced and diced. Any man who claims pleasure at his suffering will have his heart cut out by me, and shown to him before he dies so he can see how BLACK it is." Clenching his teeth, he jabs once or twice, his other hand, resting on Crowe's side protectively.

Crowe can only lay there, and pray for death at this point. He thinks he hears you defending him above all the rabble, then suddenly, it is quieter in the room. The rest of the crew has either gone to bunk down, or left the room for other parts of the ship. Opens his eyes after a long moment. They look dull, and sullen, devoid of any sort of will. "You didn't .... have to do that..." he rasps, then winces, clutching at his side. "Bastard... broke a rib with the first shot..." he says, then gasps at the pain, unable to continue.

Charlamange takes this chance to pour more of the drink into your mouth, "I know it tastes bad, but it'll help you heal." His finger traces along your rib cage, "I can set that for you, hold on." He reaches down and pulls a piece of flat wood off the kindling pile, and braces it against your ribs. He takes some salve gum and rubs it on your skin to apply the bark of the kindling, "This will keep it immobile so you can heal properly in the next day or two. I'd take it easy if I were you, but the captain will surely want to beat you some more. I'll talk to him about having you attend to my needs." He looks down at you, "Curious isn't it? A man so deadly as myself knows how to heal. Perhaps I should be a doctor, not someone who murders people in their sleep."

Crowe allows you to set his rib, and apply the medicinal herbs, but as you tell him of your plan, he shakes his head. "He will never... allow it." he says in a shuddering voice. "I belong... to him." he says, then his body shakes with silent sobs. He covers his eyes with the forpart of his arm, and continues to cry silently. After a moment, he says, "put me in my bunk and leave me..." he pauses, catching his breath. "If you want to help me.... leave me be..." he gets out in a sigh.

Charlamange leans down, and whispers into your ear, "I wasn't truthful before. The two brothers who brought me in, they were two men living together. When I left, I killed them both in their sleep. I vowed then and there never to belong to anyone again like that. You may be his property now, but I can help you change that...." He stands and goes to wash his hands, then comes back and stows his gear, letting you rest as he works.

Crowe listens to you, but of course he does not believe you. Why should he trust you, or anyone? It was because of you, and your getting by the nightwatch that got him this latest beating. Sure you are taking care of his now... but what lies ahead from you he can only guess. He closes his eyes, and refuses to speak any further on the matter. His body is afire with pain, but he can feel your medicine working it's way through out his system. Curing him for more abuse.

Charlamange walks by you, stroking a handle along your side, giving the last gawker a glare as he does. "I'll be topside talking to the captain. I'll check on you later."

Crowe does not even answer, or offer thanks, he merely lies in his bunk silent.

Charlamange goes out into the corridor.